A Hopeless Call For Help [Closed]

As Gustpuddle walked slowly through SkyClan's territory, her mood grew worse and worse. Torrents of rain had poured down on the forest earlier that morning, and although it was just a drizzle now, the she-cat was soaked. Unlike her RiverClan counterparts, she despised water. It made her fur ruffle just thinking about how they could possibly enjoy it, and as she shook the droplets from her grey and white fur, she narrowed her eyes, her gaze finally landing on what appeared to be SkyClan camp, surrounded by tall trees and a canopy of leaves overhead. She picked up the three kits she had brought with her, gently lifting them by the scruff and continuing her treck on the unknown territory.

As she finally arrived near the entrance to the camp, she placed her descendants onto the damp ground, taking a deep breath and thinking over the plan she had already repeated in her head a myriad of times. She hated the notion of giving up a single one of her kits, let alone three of them. But it's what Crowstar would have wanted. With one last final thought about what had happened, she picked up the bundles of damp fur and continued her mission. The darkness of the night provided the assurance that most if not all of the Clan were asleep, but she was careful with her steps toward what was clearly the leaders' den. With an outward sigh through the tufts of fur in her muzzle, she carefully placed each kit down in front of the entrance to the den. Her disheveled appearance didn't phase her a bit as she called out to the new SkyClan leader, her tired eyes looking down on her kits, thinking about their futures.

"R-Rippedsky?"

His blue eyes stared unblinkingly into the darkness, fixated on the nothingness that comprised the wall of the den. He was looking at nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Rippedstar's head rested on his paws. There was a certain frustration worming around in his stomach. Although, the exhaustion outweighed any anger at the fact that he was restless once more. Being both a physical and mental affliction, there was nothing that could aid him in this. Therefore, the leader was simply rendered sleepless for another night. Of course, he would still drift in and out in fits, there was only so much the body could handle, so his ear barely twitched at the sound of his name. But, realizing his eyes were open and he was indeed still conscious, the black and white tom arose to his paws with a sigh. Part of him was aggravated by having to get up so late, yet he could not help but rationalize it. He was not asleep anyway.

Thankfully, whoever the soft and indistinguishable voice belonged to seemed sensible enough to stay outside. He had taken to having clanmates call him out rather than inviting them in. The fewer cats who entered, the more the faint smell of Crowstar could be allowed to linger. It scared him that his own scent was beginning to overpower it. The soft and dulling effect of the rain could only make his efforts more futile than before. His tail flickered uncomfortably at the thought of it being his den instead of Crowstar's. That would mean truly accepting the late tom's fate. Even their meeting at the moonstone had done nothing to truly soothe his aching soul. Once Rippedstar noticed the hesitation in his step, lost in thoughts once more, he pushed himself forwards. Without even waiting to see who it was, the question fell from his maw only a matter of pawsteps from the entrance, "What is it?"

The scent of Windclan hit him before he truly realized what was before him. He had been born into the scent, trained to remember it at birth, and even after moons away that still stuck with him. The tom blinked a couple times and wondered if he was dreaming. Before him, there was a queen, young kits lazed sleepily at her paws in a clear state of exhaustion. It was night after all. For a moment, his expression simply remained neutral as he tried to process what was before him. The she-cat was Gustpuddle. He still knew her, mostly from the gatherings, but also from those moons that had comprised his kit and apprenticehood within Windclan. But, why was she here? In the middle of Skyclan's camp? His eyes narrowed as they looked over the kits, softening only slightly now. Under normal circumstances and before the loss of Crowstar and Whiteheart, he likely would have melted almost immediately.

"Why are you here?" Rippedstar asked lowly. His gaze shifted up to meet Gustpuddle's. Given her smaller stature, his head still tilted down. For the most part, his tone gave nothing away. There was confusion within him, yet none of it came through in the mild way in which he spoke. However, there was a certain softness there, one that had all but disappeared as of late. He did not step back or gave any inclination of relaxation. There was a cat from an enemy clan in the middle of his camp. And he was surprised to find that there was no fear within him. Kits rested between them. This was no invasion, clearly. Even so, he felt there should have been something more. Searching for answers, he locked eyes with Gustpuddle, almost silently demanding she provide some explanation of what he was seeing. Was this even real?

Gustpuddle's bright amber eyes didn't move away from her kits as Rippedstar left his den, watching as they tried to settle down and close their sleepy eyes for the night. She felt uncomfortable sitting there in SkyClan's camp, out in the open where any cat could walk out of their den and find her. It struck her funny that she knew Rippedsky would be in Crowstar's den, but her tired state of mind must've compelled her to head that way. It wasn't until Rippedsky walked out of the den that she really realized the den she was standing in front of, and she shook her head, finally looking up to meet Rippedsky's charming blue eyes. "Where... W-Where is Cr-Crowstar?" Her maw was left just slightly ajar, scanning the larger toms features, and praying that the inevitable words would not leave his muzzle.

She knew, as many thoughts swarmed her brain, that the certainty of the situation would not junk trunk that Crowstar was dead until the words came explicitly from Rippedsky's mouth, but the petite she-cat knew, in her heart, that he was gone. A sudden pang coursed through her body, and she began to feel dizzy. It took everything she had not to crumble to bits right then and there, and her tiny legs began to tremble as an appalling headache began to flourish. She choked out a broken sob, tears pricking the back of her eyes and soon pouring over the fur on her cheeks. Her head sunk between her shoulders, the constant sobs that rattled her body visible for any cat to see. She'd lost another mate. Why was StarClan doing this to her? First Hollowfang, he'd been killed right in front of her by those terrible dogs, right in front of her own eyes. Was this StarClan punishing her for falling in love with a SkyClan cat?

An awful silence filled the air as she began to calm down, nothing but a blank stare in her glossy amber eyes. She watched as her kits dozed, practically ignoring Rippedstar's presence. She wanted nothing more but to turn around and go back to her own camp, her own nest. She wanted to forget that it all happened, forget about the heartbreak. She was sick of it. Sick of nothing ever going right for her, and sick of having no one who cared. Going back to the reason she was there in the first place, she shifted her gaze to meet Rippedstar's."I need your help, Rippedsk... Rippedstar." With a dejected sigh, she looked down at her kits again, her focus caught on a particular kit that looked exactly like Crowstar. He had the black, fluffy fur of his father, but yet he had inherited her own amber eyes. She bit back at the edge of her lip, struggling to keep the tears that were pricking the back of her eyes at bay.

His eyes connected with her's as she asked the very question he was not prepared to answer. Because to speak it aloud, to acknowledge it, would make it a real thing. Rippedstar's throat tightened. The sight of her eyes, carrying a certain pain behind them, threatened to cause his stilled heart to beat once again. There was a deafening silence that was only interrupted by the soft patter of the rain and little mews of protest from the young kits. They were far too young for such an arduous journey. Gustpuddle must have had good reason for bringing them here? Was there trouble in Windclan? For a long time, he said nothing. Or, at least, what was a matter of seconds felt like an eternity as the unspoken answer was passed between them. He hoped that she understood Crowstar was gone. Based on her expression, he assumed she did.

The hardened stare that was kept in place to mask the torrent within fell as he glanced down at the kits once more and the tom meowed, "They need to get out of the cold. Come in." Internally, he had wrestled with this idea for a moment. What was the best course of action for such an instant in the middle of the night? None of the lives he had been given or the advice from Starclan had prepared him for this. There was also a conflict with whether or not he should let them into the den. He did not want to lose the fading scent of the former leader. That also would mean admitting to the fact that Crowstar was gone. The debate made him feel like he was being torn in half. As irrational as it was to deny the kits sanctuary for his own kit-like desire to cling onto the mentor he had lost, that still made it difficult. A guttural half-growl of frustration built up behind his lips but as he caught himself, it came out a low sigh. After glancing at the nearest kit and up at its mother, as if asking permission, he bent and gently picked it up by its scruff.

Once deep inside the den, the tom placed the kit gently in its nest in an attempt to keep it warm. Had he more motherly instincts, he might have given into the idea of warming it with his tongue. Instead, he settled for sitting near it to offer whatever warmth his short pelt could offer. Then, he waited for Gustpuddle to nudge the other two along. The young leader could not imagine what it would have taken to get them all here. Still, he could not even imagine why. Despite attempting to keep a neutral expression, the edges of his maw faltered to show the clear confusion of the whole ordeal. Already he was starting an internal debate with himself about the future lives of these little bundles of fur. And he did not even know why they had been brought to him. When it finally came time for him to speak, the leader found it hard to lock eyes with the she-cat for fear of what would come of the conversation. However, he finally held her gaze once more and not bothering to correct her on his name, softly said, "What is going on, Gustpuddle? I want to help in any way I can... for the sake of these kits lives. But, I need to know."

With an inward sigh, Gustpuddle dipped her head to pick up the small, young kittens. She merely nodded at Rippedstar for his help with one of the kits, her eyes flickering back down at her paws.'I'll get through this. Just one paw step at a time, one day at a time. I'll get through it.' After some consideration, she shook her head gently, lost in her own thoughts as she entered Rippedstar's den. 'Hopefully.' As she lay down both of the kits in the large nest, all of them in a straight line, she thought about what Rippedstar would think about what she had to say. 'Did Crowstar tell him... Did Crowstar tell him about me?' The small she-cat had no clue, and she didn't know how she could bring it up to the larger tom. She could always just outright tell him, but would hinting at it be better? She was lost, and as she sat in front of the black and white tom, she made a quick decision on what she would do, abandoning any second thoughts that may have tried to slip their way into her head.

"These are Crowstar's kits, Rippedstar." She looked up into his cool blue gaze, her shoulders shaking slightly just at the thought of Crowstar. She didn't want to think about him, nor about his absence. Her heart ached, her head ached, her paws ached, and she was tired. She just wanted to go home and pretend it had never happened, go back to thinking that Crowstar was still alive and happy. Just an inkling managed to worm its way into her mind, a derogatory thought towards her Clanmates for not telling her about the death of a leader. Even though none of them, barring Mottleheart, knew about her relationship with the fluffy black tom, she figured it an act of decency to at least mention something of such significance. All at once her mind reverted back to the task at hand; explaining to the new SkyClan leader what in StarClan's name was going on. She was sure just by the look on his face of the confusion that riddled his insides, but the words failed to collect in her mouth, even though she was trying to put them in order as fast as she could.

"These... The kits... Crowstar..." She tried in vain to calm herself, to gather her words and confidence. Her eyes were shut tight, and she was lost in concentration. Nothing seemed to be working. She was tripping over her words, and each sentence was a jumbled mess that was hardly understandable. She inhaled deeply, striving to clear her head of anything and everything. As she exhaled, she opened her eyes again, her cold gaze falling, once again, on Rippedstar. "These are three of the kits from... our litter, Rippedstar." She hoped that the tom would be able to discern who she meant by our. I only brought three with me, I.... I couldn't carry the rest. They are back at WindClan camp." She knew it wouldn't be easy, giving up her kits. But she knew it had to be done, that some of them, if not all of them, belonged in SkyClan. As much as she wanted to keep and raise all of them herself, it was just not possible.

With yet another round of slow breathing, the queen was able to put together a string of words that would hopefully help her kits get into SkyClan, where she expected them to grow and strive. "I cannot... I cannot raise these kits on my own, it is just simply not possible. I'm coming to you for help, Rippedstar. Is there any way that they could stay here, in SkyClan? I... It's where... They belong here..." Her words grew jumbled once more, and she shook her head decidedly in hopes that what she said was intelligible enough for Rippedstar to understand. Her legs quivered as she looked at her kits, sleeping soundly in Rippedstar's nest. Her fur had stood on end since she arrived in the foreign camp, but she was on end more than ever now. The silence that lingered between the two of them only intensified the tensions, and the tip of her tail twitched with each wave of anxiety that roiled through her frail frame.

ooc: i am sorry this is no good :( FITE ME -malpe

As he sat near the little kits that writhed in his nest, his blue eyes softened. Only when the she-cat spoke did his gaze flicker to her. These are Crowstar's kits. Immediately, he stopped. The leader's kits? Staring down at them, he could see the resemblance in some of them. The thought of the recently passed tom, and the realization there was a part of him through the kits here made him want to cry out with a mixture of joy and immense sadness. A low breath of wonder left his maw as he pondered over this. Despite his expression only showing hints of the swirling emotion, it was obvious there was some gratitude there. Gustpuddle had brought Crowstar's kits to him. Well, almost all of them. There were more. For a moment he considered what to say as the words struggled to come out. For the first time since the death of his mate and best friend, he was feeling something.

"Thank you." He said finally, "Thank you. You've... done more than you know, Gustpuddle. I swear to you that I will raise these kits, raise all your kits well, here. I can help you retrieve the rest if you need." Rippedstar almost stumbled over his words in a mixture of desperation and a mild-excitement. The leader stood to all four paws as if planning to head straight for Windclan immediately. Then, he stopped. Thinking of Gustpuddle and Crowstar together, of the code-breaking romance that occurred, he was reminded of a similar situation long ago. Kits and families torn apart by divided loyalty. His expression became grim and snapped back into the more serious tone that had become his normal. Rippedstar locked eyes with her when he meowed, "You can't go back, Gustpuddle... you need to stay with your kits." The air seemed to grow thicker as let the words escape from his mouth. Would she understand?

"They need to be raised by both parents. They need Skyclan as much as they need you. I... I have seen kits be torn apart by their split heritage. Nothing good will come of all of them being here without you, nor would it do them go to all stay in Windclan and deny this part of them. If you stay, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to protect all of you. I want the best for Crowstar's kits. I want the best for your kits. And, I think this is it." The black and white tom wasn't sure if she understood the importance of her staying with them. He considered telling the story of Eagleheart and Hazeflight, of the awful mess that ensued, of how their kit was maddened by the thoughts of a father she never knew. None of it had worked. His blue eyes pleaded as he looked down at her and flicked his tail towards the tiny bundles whose fate rested in their paws. He waited in silence for her response, hoping it would be what he waited for. Rippedstar barely knew the warrior who shared his birth clan, but his voice was genuine in longing for what was best for the kits. And if it meant seeing their mother come with, then he hoped that would be so.

'Thank you.' ...What? Gustpuddle had been expecting chastise, to be reprimanded for going against the code that they all held so near and dear to their hearts. The grey and white WindClanner stood up after Rippedstar, confused and a little frightened at what he'd say next. Was he going to retract his previous statement? 'I can help you retrieve the rest, if you need.'"Th-The rest?"Her ears flickered back and forth, the sensations she was feeling evident through every contour of her face. She stopped just as he did, shrinking back as the happy, grateful expression that the SkyClan leader had previously adorned turned into one of seriousness and enormity. Her ears folded back against her skull, her whiskers twitching nervously as her head sunk between her shoulder blades once more. 'You can't go back, Gustpuddle...'

She managed nothing more than what was hardly even considered a squeak, a strange, jumbled version of a gasp."St... Stay?" She suddenly felt light-headed, her vision growing blurry as she tried to comprehend the follow-up that the black and white tom gave. Her blood ran cold, adrenaline coursing through her tiny body. She only caught a few pieces of what Rippedstar was trying to convey to her, but her mind was too busy trying to connect the dots that were strewn out in front of her, a wild crazy mess that she had no intentions of getting into. Did he just expect her to up and leave without any second thoughts? A million emotions flashed before her, all at once. Anger, anxiety, stress, and grief, among the many others that she was both too tired and careless to name.

She'd always been taught to follow the code, stay loyal, be kind. She'd already gone against it with what had happened with Crowstar, and she felt awfully ashamed of what she was doing with her kits, even now. Was this even the right decision? She felt like half the forest had fallen down on her at once, and her shoulders shook once, violently, before she couldn't take it any longer. Her paws slipped from under her, and before either of the cats could blink an eye, she was a heap of mass laying in the middle of a den, in a foreign camp. This time there were no tears, but instead, a broken shell of the strong warrior Gustpuddle usually represented. 'I want the best for your kits.' "My kits..." Her gaze wandered aimlessly over to the soft, feather-lined den that he had placed her kits in gently. He'd shown such subtlety, such gentleness, she couldn't help but believe it. But did he care about her kits, or Crowstar's kits? She shook the feeling, keeping her eyes on the rise and fall of her kits chests as the sudden feelings of surprise slowly faded into one of numbness.

If being loyal was the right thing, she had to make a decision. Would she be loyal to her Clan, WindClan, or her family, her kits? Her gaze shifted downward. She'd always held both of them high on the priority list, but she'd never thought that she'd have to choose which meant more to her. But she was loyal to her family, wouldn't that mean staying with the rest of her family? But then she'd be leaving her kits in SkyClan! She purposefully avoided Rippedstar's gaze, keeping her eyes locked firmly on the ground. She knew good and well this was an important decision, likely the most important decision she'd ever make. Her amber eyes lifted quickly, meeting Rippedstar's pleading glare. She was not the type to abandon her kits. "Rippedstar... I..." She could practically hear her own heartbeat as the words left her mouth. "I'll st-stay, Rippedstar." Her voice was crackly, dried up and showcased just how tired she was. Tears welled up in her eyes. Was she really leaving the life that she had worked so hard to build? Her friends, family, that she had known all her life? It was clear to her that all the kits would be staying in SkyClan, by the tone of the spotted toms words. Gaze remaining secured to Rippedstar's as a single tear rolled off the side of her cheek, she continued. Her words came out clear this time. "For them, and nothing else."

The black and white tom was focused on the kits for a while as they wriggled underneath, finding comfort among the fur-lined nest while older cats discussed their fate. His blue eyes glanced between the three that were there, searching for hints of their father in each coat patterning. It was certainly evident and he had no doubt she was telling the truth. Gustpuddle would not have come otherwise. When he glanced back up, he managed to catch hints of the conflict within her expression. That was no surprise. He knew what it meant to leave behind everything you had known for the unknown. His tail flicked against the side of her flank gently. There was a flicker of compassion in the depths of his stare, something that had been lost for a while, brought to life only by glimpses and memories of the very thing he had lost. Crowstar was still with him in a way, through these kits, as Pansyface had been through her kin.

It seemed like an eternity before she spoke. The answer that came allowed him to let out a long breath. Somewhere inside he felt a certain sadness for the conflict that this she-cat had within her. However, he was far more focused on the task at paw than what this meant for all of them: her, the kits, the clan, and finally him. They had to retrieve the rest of the kits before the night was over. He gave her instructions to wait in the den while he woke Mumblefoot with the order to stay guard outside of his den. Knowing his son's inclination towards always being on edge, he knew he could trust the tailless warrior to keep a close guard and follow what he was told. As soon as that was settled, he returned to the grey and white she-cat and led her back out into the territory after her kits were tucked in safely. As they headed for Windclan territory, his heart pounded. What was happening?

[Time Skip]

The leader had been confused when she returned with only one more kit. He had waited for her a short ways away from the camp for the queen to return. However, Rippedstar said nothing the whole way and merely offered to carry the child when he could. Otherwise, the tom had just stared ahead and kept his ears perked the whole way. As they returned, Rippedstar relieved the warrior standing guard. Mumblefoot obediently padded away to go back to sleep but took the time to spare his father a questioning glance. Rippedstar stepped into the den beside an exhausted Gustpuddle. He nodded towards the decently sized nest for her to join. Once she was settled on one end, the tom curled up at the other end, allowing enough space for the kits and their mother to feel like he was not crowding them. Tomorrow they would worry about other things. For now, he drifted into the first slightly restful sleep he had since that night.