Overdue Father-Son Bonding

Scorchfang padded from the fresh-kill pile over to the elders' den with two plump mice dangling by their tails from his mouth. This would be the first time ever since he was an apprentice that the deputy would be able to spend any amount of quality time with his retired father Rowantalon, and he was very eager to. He always felt bad for the way he treated everyone poorly as a kit and apprentice, and he felt that he was making great progress in changing his reputation, but he felt that he could still do more. Especially for Rowantalon, who truly deserved a far better son than who he used to be.

The large tabby tom placed the mice down on the ground in front of the elders' den and softly meowed in greeting, looking for his father.

Rowantalon had settled into Elder life happily, enjoying the peace and quiet that came with his retirement. Although he would've welcomed company, he liked watching the apprentices and warriors bustle around camp, their movements akin to bees buzzing busily around their hive. He hadn't noticed just how demanding Warrior duties were until they were no longer a requirement. Everyone was always doing something: hunting, training, teaching... The old tom flicked his torn ears, stretching out in his nest lazily. He should really get out of his den soon before he got too weak to walk. The spotted elder slowly got to his feet, about to trot out of the den when he noticed that someone was already standing outside. "Oh! Hello Scorchfang," He mewed cheerfully, sitting down with a smile and wrapping his tail around his paws. "I didn't hear you. What brings you to the Elder's den?" He eyed the mouse. "And were you going to eat that?"

Scorchfang arched his eyes happily, glad to see how content his father seemed to be. He placed the mice down and nudged them towards him. "Nope, I came to give you these. You must be hungry. I can also check your fur for ticks if you'd like. I know that's the apprentices' job, but I like to help in any way I can around the Clan, as you probably already know." He curled up next to Rowantalon, noticing how much larger he seemed to be in comparison -- though to be fair it was mostly because of his bushy fur. "Heh... To think that the last we spent quality time together was when I was an obnoxious brat of a kit. I'm really sorry for all the trouble and embarrassment I may have caused you, Rowantalon."

Rowantalon purred happily, nosing one of the mice towards his son. "I'm glad you didn't forget your poor old father," he mewed jokingly, taking a only few bites of his mouse before pushing it aside. Starclan, he was going soft, wasn't he? When was the last time he had been truly hungry? Still, he'd rather only eat when he had an appetite to; he wasn't going to become a fat, graying elder that easily!
The spotted elder chuckled at Scorchfang's last few words. "Well, you had a rough start, son. Why, you reminded me of how I used to be when I was a kit- all pride and talk. But look at you now! You're nearly twice as big as I am, deputy of the clan, and have a loving family on top of everything. You might've been... less than perfect as a kit and apprentice, but you've learned more than most, son. Self-control is a thing many leaders struggle with." The reddish-brown tom trailed off, smiling to himself. He remembered what he had put poor Silentstorm through when he himself had been an apprentice. The spotted tom nearly laughed out loud; his old friend had had the patience of a Starclan cat. He supposed that was why Leopardstar had made him his mentor in the first place.
Scorchfang didn't have that. His mentor had been perfectly capable, of course, but he didn't have as much of a connection with Violetshine as Rowantalon had had with Silentstorm. Yet Scorchfang had achieved so much, without the guidance of any cat.
Without the guidance of his father.
Stirring slightly, the tom met his son's gaze and held it, his hazel eyes bright. "I'm proud of you, Scorchfang. And not because you're the deputy- although being future leader of Shadowclan certainly isn't a small achievement. I'm proud of who you are, and who you grew to be. It takes determination to make such a change, and it's no small feat either. I'm just sorry I wasn't there to watch you do it." He admitted.

Scorchfang's stomach loudly rumbled as he accepted the offer of one of Rowantalon's mice, biting down into its plump back and humming softly at the juiciness of the meat. He listened to his father's praises, as well as his apologies, and his gaze softened. He affectionately licked the speckled tom's ears. "Just because you weren't there for me physically, that doesn't mean you weren't ever there for me at all. I always knew I had your love and support. I couldn't have asked for a better father than you, Rowantalon, and I'm more than glad and honored to have made you proud."

He took another bite of his mouse. "Though, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but... Wildpaw is definitely in danger of treading down the same path I almost took as an apprentice. You know, the one where he places toms above she-cats and all that nonsense. It would mean so much to me and to him both if, well, you could have a talk with him about that. I don't want him being detested by his own Clanmates like I was in my youth; it was a very lonely and confusing time for me. Would you talk with him please?"

Rowantalon closed his eyes, nodding as Scorchfang spoke. "I know." He mewed quietly. "And I fear that I may have brought this upon him. When Wildpaw was born, I was so scared. Scared that he'd go too soon,like Lilacfall, Wildpaw, Oakpaw... most of my daughters and sons. I fear that, because of the shelter and protection I provided for him, he grew up thinking that he was worthy of much more than his clanmates."
Rowantalon fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. Wildpaw wasn't a kit anymore; Rowantalon knew that- it was the main reason the tom had finally retired, knowing that his youngest son was old enough to protect himself. Rowantalon hadn't been much of a father. He knew that, despite Scorchfang's protests. But maybe...
Finally, the tom stirred and spoke again. "I will try, my son. I will try.
But I can't guarantee my success; I grew up fatherless, and I may only make matters worse for Wildpaw. But you... Wildpaw looks up to you and Crowfur both. He holds you two in the highest regard. Perhaps, if each of us spoke with him, we'd be able to make a greater impact and turn the tide."

OOC: latee

Scorchfang listened to his father's confession, frowning sadly. Of the littermates he had that he could remember, he wished he had treated them kinder, especially Lilacfall. It was still a very heavy regret he held in his heart. He held this regret with many other cats, too: Brownpaw, Foxpaw, Nettlesting, Honeydrop... And even the cats he already made amends with, like Violetshine and Minnowcall. He had done so wrong by all of them, and this seemed to make him all the more determined to make sure Wildpaw didn't follow in his pawsteps he had taken as an apprentice.

He smiled kindly and dipped his head agreeably. "That's a very good idea. I'm glad that I'm Wildpaw's mentor as well as his brother; perhaps that would give him more reason to really take our words to heart."