I Still Need You To Lead Me [Closed]

Hunting had been good today, but it had done nothing to improve the flame orange tom's soured mood. Once more sleep had managed to evade him. Not only did the nightmares that constantly troubled him keep him tossing all night, but the new weight of fatherhood that bore upon his shoulders. The only cat's he felt comfortable around were far too busy. Hazeflight was off dealing with her own issues, Littlebrook had now taken on his offspring, and Honeydrop was tied up in her medicine cat duties. So, Flamestrike was left to himself for the day. Having already visited the kits, he threw the couple of catches onto the pile. Then, a thought crossed his mind. There was one cat he needed to see. After a brief moment of debate, Flamestrike gingerly picked up a fattened frog.

The elder's den was fairly empty. Only a couple old cats called the place their den. Off to one side, he spotted the older cat. Flamestrike suppressed a soft smirk. The grouchy old tom would more than likely not take kindly to his peace being disturbed. He threw down the frog at Thrushstripe's food with a grunt, "It's for you. Eat." He preemptively told the former leader. Knowing Thrushstripe, he would find a way to complain about being brought prey. Even being alive for five hundred moons had not stopped the old cat's drive to be self-sufficient; it was part of what had allowed him to be leader for so long. Flamestrike ungracefully flopped to the ground next to the elder. Green eyes darted up to look over the other tom. He looked so old and frail. Thrushstripe had been leader since far before Flamestrike had been born. He had always looked up to the elderly leader and respected him. Flamestrike had been proud to serve underneath him. It was comforting to be with him now. His stomach growled in a complaint for food, but the warrior was not hungry enough to force himself to eat. He simply needed a rest, and what better way than to visit the most ancient Shadowclan cat.

Thrushstripe still hated this place. He'd rather sleep out in the clearing of the camp than sit here all day in the elder's den. However, since Finchpaw cleaned this place, he couldn't lie: it had gotten a little more tolerable. The horrible smell was gone, at least. Now he could sit in here with Mottleclaw and not gag every five minutes. The elder had even started to nap more often now that he could get more comfortable. Of course, his naps weren't much of anything, but they were nice when they weren't full of nightmares.

Today was a nice nap day when his eyes flew open and his ears perked up from the sound of movement in the den. Well, new movement. He knew how Mottleclaw moved around at this point, but who could be visiting them? The apprentices already did their job. Pretty terribly, too. Looking up, Thrushstripe was almost surprised to see Flamestrike padding in, his mouth stuff with a frog that he tossed at the elder's paws. Finally lifting his head up, the elder watched as Flamestrike plopped down next to him even as his own stomach complained about lack of food while offering Thrushstripe the only food. Without even bothering with the fresh-kill, the old tom sighed. "What is... it, Flamestrike?" He asked, trying to hold his tongue about being brought food.

"I'm not too old to come visit my elder's, am I?" He raised a non-existent eyebrow at Thrushstripe, matching the other tom's tone. The warrior settled into the ground with his head rested on his forepaws. For a brief moment, he imagined what it would be like to live here and came to the conclusion it would be utterly boring, albeit restful. Right now it was certainly welcome. Aching muscles welcomed the trodden earth as they would have a pine lined bed. Flamestrike looked up at the old leader without moving his head. Instantly, he noted the untouched prey. Without saying anything, the flame orange cat simply narrowed his eyes in a mild annoyance. He bit back a remark about the prey letting it die on his tongue.

"How is retirement treating you?" Flamestrike pressed casually. Hopefully, the elder would not cast him out. With everything going on, the new father simply needed the presence of another cat. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had come to see Thrushstripe as a father figure at some point. Despite their lack of an actual intimate relationship, he trusted the former leader with his life. Being around him was comfort enough. Even if all Thrushstripe planned on doing was gripe for the rest of the day, the orange warrior would stay with him. It saddened Flamestrike to think that his own kits would only ever see the shell of an old cat; they would never look at Thrushstripe and see what he saw. As he waited for an answer, Flamestrike vowed to tell his children tales of the great Shadowclan leader.

"No..." he muttered about Flamestrike being too old, but his voice trailed off as the warrior continued to speak. Retirement, huh? If Thrushstripe were being honest, he couldn't stand it. Sitting around all day was not what he had ever done. Since he was apprenticed, the poor old tom never stopped. However, he was a little more relaxed than he had ever been. Maybe that was a plus. "Retirement is what it is..." he grumbled. "It was my decision so... I'm dealing with it. Besides, I think it was about time that Leopardstar... got a chance to lead. I've been around far too long if... I do say so myself," he meowed. then finally after a moment, the elder took a heartbeat to sniff the frog in front of him. Suddenly his stomach felt like a hole. However, he couldn't push his pride down far enough to full accept it yet.

The corner of Flamestrike's mouth twitched with amusement at the elder's grumbling. It was plainly obvious how much he hated laying around the den all day. Thrushstripe had been made for leading a clan, at least that was the conclusion the warrior had come to, "Eh, I think you could have made it a few more moons. You've lead Shadowclan well. At least, its still standing." His words became lightly teasing. As they continued to speak, Flamestrike began to feel more at ease. After the moons of stress and numbness becoming his norm, it felt good to simply have a normal conversation with Thrushstripe.

Once more he noticed the elder blatantly not eat the frog. His own stomach protested once more. However, the freshkill was not for him. Flamestrike let out a sigh, "Does it have maggots or something?"

"Maybe... I'm not dwelling on it, though," he grumbled for a moment, watching the warrior relax. Well, that was until he made a snide comment about the fresh kill. Maggots? No, how could he home about that? Suddenly, memories of Finchpaw came to mind but the elder shoved him out of his thoughts. "Flamestrike, you know I taught you better than... to bring your elders crow food. But you also know... that I am fully capable of getting my own meals." Oh how Thrushstripe tried to hold his tongue. Too late now.

"I'm well aware, Thrushstripe. You don't let any cat forget it." Flamestrike muttered back instantly. Of course the stubborn own tabby would be too prideful to eat anything brought to him. The warrior's orange tail flicked in a mild annoyance, "Just eat the stupid frog and let someone be nice to you for once." The tone was both a little exasperated and light, trying not to be disrespectful, but also not putting up with Thrushstripe's whole 'I can do it on my own' routine. His eyes narrowed as he waited for the elder to respond. Part of him expected to get his ears clawed off.

Something else had been prickling in the back of Flamestrike's conscious, though. They had not had any time to talk in, well, ever. But there were so many things that had happened over the moons. Thrushstripe had never seemed like the one for deep conversations, but now he was stuck in the elders den. Maybe Flamestrike could get something out of him. He longed to speak freely with the old cat. For so long, so much had weighed on the warrior. After a brief lull in the conversation, he spoke up again, "Did you ever hear much about the battle with Bear?"

At the warrior's sudden snap, the elder simply stared at Flamestrike, his jaw clenching tight as he stifled a grumble in his throat. Of course, the way that the young tom had said it only made Thrushstripe want the frog less, but after looking at it once more, it did actually look a little appetizing. Plus, it was fairly obvious that something was bothering the tom. Thrushstripe wasn't usually one to try to make others feel better, but he did still care about his clan. If Flamestrike wasn't feeling well, he couldn't do his job. With a heavy and obviously dramatic sigh, the elder finally turned the frog over in his paws and took a bite out of it. He didn't even dare admit that it was rather delicious.

However, when Flamestrike spoke up about the situation with Bear, the elder swallowed what was in his mouth and took a look up at him. He studied the warrior carefully for a moment, his eyes staring deep into him, trying to get a read on him. "What... of it?" He asked. "I heard just what I needed... to hear about it."

A slight smile briefly flitted at the corner of his mouth as Thrushstripe finally took a bite of the freshly caught frog. Knowing the elder, it probably killed him to be eating something caught by another cat. Despite the fact his old joints probably ached, Flamestrike assumed the ancient tom would probably be hunting and fighting for himself until the moment he lay under the dirt. The warrior flicked his tail as he thought about what to say next. It bothered him to be thinking about the battle again. However, he wanted to hear what the elderly cat had to say. He hadn't spoken to anyone about the topic, save for the brief argument in camp with Leopardstar. His fur began to raise at the thought of the new leader. If only Thrushstripe was still in charge.

"Just about all that happened," Flamestrike started, not yet wanting to dive into his real reasons for bringing it up, "I'm just still shocked you weren't there. The great old leader of Shadowclan has probably never missed a battle." There was a bit of hesitation to the words. It wasn't a secret that Flamestrike was avoiding what he really wanted to say. Instead, he picked his words carefully, dancing around the sensitive subject. Do I really want to talk about this?

Another bite of the frog went down as the old tom thought about Flamestrike's words. Of course, the warrior wasn't wrong. Thrushstripe couldn't remember the last time that he missed a battle that involved Shadowclan. In fact, he was almost certain that he had never missed one. His participation was much too important. At least, until now. "I haven't," he responded, trying to ignore what that statement of Flamestrike's might have been implying. "I... had other things that needed to be taken care of. There was a good... force of Shadowclan warriors going. I'm sure that... I wasn't needed." How it killed Thrushstripe that he wasn't there. He would have gone in a heartbeat, but there was no way that he would admit that he didn't go because Leopardstar wouldn't allow it. Well, on top of other things. "I heard that it went well... more or less. Everyone got back safely and the rogue group was... taken care of. I also know about those two kits that... you brought into camp."

A low growl rumbled in the orange tom's throat for a moment. Flamestrike was instantly reminded of how the new Shadowclan leader had sent away his only kin without so much as a warning. His brother's son had been sent off to Starclan knows where without his knowledge. Despite all this, Thrushstripe supported Leopardstar's leadership, so he pushed back the growl. It bothered him to no end that this was the cat he was now supposed to follow; this was the same one that show no care for his warrior, nor any sort of basic respect. Regardless, this was the leader he was bound to serve. Why did you ever have to retire, Thrushstripe? He thought sadly, for what must have been the thousandth time. While he was old and certainly due his rest, as well as a bit of a crazy streak, the ancient tabby had lead like no other. Flamestrike regarded him higher than any other cat he had ever met.

The stream of conscious that flowed through his head caused a delayed response. Unfortunately, the incident with Barkkit was one that bothered him to no end. The warrior brought himself back to attention, looking over Thrushstripe once more. He tried to think of the best way to reply. There were so many endless possibilities of how he could reply that it made his head swim. He wanted to be blunt and directly ask the cat he looked up to some of the questions that plagued him now daily. Yet, there was so much in his own fear and anxiety that made him hold his tongue. After a long moment of careful thought, he finally spoke, picking through the words carefully, "Have you ever regretted killing someone?"

Thank Starclan he had finished that frog on time. As Flamestrike asked the elder about whether or not he regretted killing anyone, the old tom stopped, a little taken aback by the question. Honestly, Thrushstripe had never really thought about it, at least whether or not he regretted his decisions. Now the question had been asked, though, several memories began flooding back to him. Thoughts of Brokenflame admitting her treachery; Shatteredsoul stealing one of the elder's lives in his time as leader; Breezeheart and Saltpelt reveling in their loyalty to the Dark Forest. There wasn't a single one in his mind that he ultimately regretted. They all had it coming. It was their choice. They knew the consequences. "If I am being honest, no. I have not." He stated curtly, thinking hard on the subject. "That... does not mean that I don't think about who I killed. Their names and faces are still very fresh in... my mind everyday. Why do you ask?"

Flamestrike listened quietly as the elder spoke. The old leader had killed a pawful of cats, and regretted none. It made sense, though, as Thrushstripe explained he never forgotten them. More than likely, those cats had gotten what they deserved. Did Bear deserve it? Was his death merely what was due to him? Every cat seems to think so, The orange tom thought to himself. Once more, there was a bit of an internal battle as he thought about what he would say next. He still had yet to speak of how he had killed Bear. The one time he had, it had been from a place of anger, self-hatred, and sadness. But now, he just needed someone to understand. After opening and closing his mouth a couple times in preparation to speak, Flamestrike finally let out a low whisper, "I can't stop thinking about Bear."

Shifting in his nest, Thrushstripe studied the warrior for a moment, listening to him mention Bear. The elder knew that there was an interesting relationship between the two cats, but that was about it. However, when it had come down to it, Flamestrike had killed him in the battle to win it for the clans and rescue those who had been taken. Overall, it was the best choice. Bear was a danger to everyone, especially with his ever-growing group. He could understand why the young tom was so hung up on it, but Thrushstripe also knew that he needed to get out of this funk. "I hate to say that... that won't ever change," he stated simply. "But obviously this is bothering you."

"Everyone sees me as this hero... but I can't feel good about what I did." His whispered to the elder. Suddenly, his resolve snapped. All of the emotions he had pushed away for moons began to surface. There was the majority of his life feeling like he couldn't ever please Shadowclan, serving them and never gaining the whole clan's trust. The shame of being a rogue. The fleeting hope that he had found his kin, someone who shared his origins. All of that hope being torn away by the horror of reality. Numbness as his claws sunk into Bear's throat. There were flashes of anger at Leopardstar ripping away his brother's son. Everything hit him at once. Flamestrike said nothing more, but a swirl of conflicting feeling shone in his eyes. He didn't expect the former leader to say anything. There was nothing he could could bring himself to say either for fear of breaking. His green eyes glazed over as he fixed his stare on the dirt ahead.