Hello, My Name Is... Starlord? [Closed]

Instead of the rays of sun greeting the tom as he padded from the den, Starlord was met with a cold wind. The strange skies had robbed the world of all normalcy. Although he rejected the strange thoughts of Gold and her clan, the tom found himself interested in the idea that all their ancestors gathered in the stars to look down on them. In fact, the loner almost longed to come to some solid set of beliefs of the afterlife, yet he drowned in the ideal that such matters were a waste of time. Now, the abnormally crimson-hued sky merely created a strange and unnerving feeling that threatened to set his fur on edge.

Given it was early morning, or at least he assumed it was under the strange conditions, the tom figured it would it would be time to hunt. Usually, he filled his days playing with Goldeneye's kits who were now well on their way to being Jaystar's slaves or assisting in gathering herbs and occasionally hunting. He almost snorted aloud at his own thought. In reality, it made him sad to see such innocent young cats being fed into the same system that had made their mother's life The Dark Forest. The very thing that had torn true kin apart. All because of some absurd beliefs. Shaking away the unpleasantries, Starlord allowed his light foot falls to carry him towards the entrance of the camp. Right before he could leave, there was a soft shadow cast in his path. His eyes settled on the deputy; it was Jaystar's closest follower. Starlord's ears fell back and he could not help as his eyelids half closed in displeasure. Waiting with an enduring patience, the ginger-patched cat allowed the rare opportunity for the Riverclan cat to speak first.

The dawn patrols had been sent out a while ago, and everything was in order for a brand new day to begin. That morning, Scorchclaw was able to catch a rare moment of relaxation. The fluffy tabby sat beneath the cover of the willow tree, silently watching the camp that was beginning to bustle with activity. Carrying out the role of RiverClan's deputy had proven to be more tiring than he had thought it to be. His duties took up much of each day and left him with little free time. Nevertheless, when he thought about it, he found himself not really minding it. Even before Ivystar's death, he had been a diligent cat. The concept of "having fun" had never really occurred to him, and he spent whatever time he had going on patrols and hunting. The only change that had really occurred was the nature of his tasks, a change that he hadn't quite decided whether he liked.

When a flash of ginger-and-white fur crossed his vision, Scorchclaw narrowed his eyes. The cat that emerged from the Medicine(?) Den was Starlord--a peculiar rogue with a peculiar name, who had come to stay in RiverClan under peculiar circumstances. More than a couple of moons had passed since Starlord's arrival in RiverClan camp. The rogue kits that Goldeneye had brought back with her had grown into apprentices, but still he lingered. Jaystar had once instructed Scorchclaw to keep an eye on him. Perhaps it was his own inherent distrust towards outsiders that was then strengthened by his leader's words; the brown tabby did watch him closely. Now, as Starlord ambled towards the camp's exit, Scorchclaw rose and followed him. His long strides carried him to the exit just before the rogue reached it. "Where are you going?" The question came out in a deep rumble. Intense green gaze met with Starlord's bright blue. The ginger tom was visibly displeased to see him, a fact that he noted indifferently. Scorchclaw didn't like him either.

"Ah, Scorch... paw, was it?" A low, dissatisfied breath was let out through his nostrils as he faced the deputy. Another lovely day put off by the fact he was stuck under the watchful eye of these strange-brained fools. Even though he had been here for some time already, Jaystar trusted him about as much as the wind was visible, and it would not be a surprise if this cat had been put up to watching him. Starlord's tail tip twitching ever so slightly was the only sign that he was already done with this conversation. His bright, blue eyes were filled with a forced sense of cheer. He straightened up and stood across from Scorchclaw with a beautifully feigned grin. The other cat was larger, but he did not find it offputting. He had faced foes twice his size before and made it out just fine.

"It's a beautiful day for hunting, so I figured I would head out before Gold or Fallowpaw need me." As long as that's okay with you. He snipped silently in his head, biting the sarcastic words tightly between his teeth before they managed to escape and create more issues than this other cat decided there already were. Starlord was surprised by his own impressively stretched self-control. It was not in his nature to enjoy other cats telling him what to do. Within the imposing camp and territory, the loner's free spirit nature felt like it had been crushed underneath the boulders that comprised what they called sunningrocks. If it were not for Goldeneye and her kits, all of whom he had fallen in love with, Starlord would have bolted out of the confines of the forest long ago. But with nowhere, no one, to go to, he was stuck here for now.

At the mention of the incorrect name, the fluffy deputy twitched one invisible eyebrow. "Scorchclaw." He corrected, in a clipped tone. He had grown past the stage of an apprentice ages ago. Was the rogue trying to provoke him? It was quite possible. Unfamiliar as Starlord was with clan customs, he should have learned the meaning of the 'paw suffix in the few moons he had spent in their camp. Scorchclaw's intense gaze swept over the ginger-and-white tom, his keen eye picking out the nuances in body language. A wide smile was spread over Starlord's maw; as far as first appearances went, he seemed friendly enough. However, careful observation would reveal the traces of feigned cheeriness. Although annoyed, he was taking measures to veil it. Scorchclaw, on the other hand, was a little less cautious with expressing himself. He faced the smaller tom down, a cold flame flickering within the depths of his green eyes.

Gold? It took a second for Scorchclaw to associate the name with RiverClan's medicine cat. Starlord was referring to Goldeneye. At the realization, a twinge of irritation sprung to life within him. She had a proper clan name, and it wasn't "Gold." She wasn't some rogue. While it was a small matter, Scorchclaw couldn't help feeling indignant. As a warrior of the forest's five clans, he held great pride in his name. It was amazing that Goldeneye would let him get away with using such a nickname. His dark-furred tail lashed the air as his rationality struggled to remedy the situation. It would do no good to lose his temper over something like this. That would be a foolish choice, one that would reflect badly on his clan and Jaystar. Somehow, he managed to force his anger back down as quickly as it had arisen. Twitching his tufted ears, he tossed out his own challenge. "I see. In that case, I will go with you. I happen to have some free time right now. You don't have any objections, do you, Star... lord?" He spoke calmly enough, but his tone revealed his refusal to take "no" for an answer.

The urge to flash the white of his eyes was almost impossible to hold back. How Scorchclaw tried to intimidate him made the loner want to scoff. Or snort. Either would accurately describe how little he was impacted by the supposed show of strength from the Riverclan deputy. Unfortunately, it appeared that Scorchclaw was too much like Jaystar. The pair of them likely got along great as Riverclan's leadership. And both made plenty of assumptions of the loner that had taken up a temporary, albeit extended, residency within their camp. They saw him as this uncivilized rat who thrashed among walker rot. And they made that feeling clear. Just because he was not from here. Their shortsightedness aggravated him to no end and he could feel it welling up in his chest now. Starlord had seen more of this world than they ever had, and yet he was the fool.

Sucking in a deep breath before finally bringing himself to answer, Starlord attempted to quell the mounting frustrations and focus on anything else. His blue eyes locked with Scorchclaw's, hints of disdain seemed to die down as he restrained his anger. Eyelids half-closed as he looked over the other cat, it felt like an eternity before he finally let out a mild meow, "Why not, Scorchclaw? Isn't that what you clan cats do? Take a whole army hunting?" What might have come across as a jab was actually a lightness to the loner's tone. It was humorous to him that so many cats would hunt together at once, but it was one of the things they did that was merely strange and not distasteful. He turned to slide through the reeds before the deputy and let out a barely audible sigh of relief as the more open territory greeted him.

"So, deputy sir, how does this work? Is there a special ceremony or something to call the prey?"

"Isn't that what you clan cats do? Take a whole army hunting?"

Merely twitching his whiskers, Scorchclaw let the remark pass him by. Whatever customs this Starlord was used to, they were different here in RiverClan. Of course. That the rogue did not understand was something that didn't surprise him in the least. "The numbers provide protection." He stated coolly. "Perhaps you would bring enough cats to scare the prey away, but we're not that foolish." Tiny sparks seemed to sizzle in the air between the two toms. With each one unable to accept the other's way of life, this patrol would certainly be an interesting one. Neither cat, however, was looking at it from that perspective.

As Starlord departed from the island camp, Scorchclaw strode after him. From the brief interaction that had already taken place, he could already tell that this hunting venture was going to be a troublesome one. A few minutes had been enough to establish that the fluffy deputy didn't get along with Starlord. If only he didn't have to deal with this rogue... There were about a dozen other things he could be doing at that moment--take Sleekpaw out, hold apprentice ceremonies, or even hang out with Adderfeather. Yet this was part his duty, and being the serious tom that he was, he would carry it out diligently. Brushing aside thoughts that would only cause his annoyance to surge, he concentrated his attention on the situation at paw. "Of course not." He retorted sharply, giving the ginger-and-white tom the "what a fishbrain" look. If there really were something that convenient, RiverClan wouldn't have to go to war to feed their warriors. Blood wouldn't need to be spilled. He was well-aware that Starlord was being sarcastic, but that knowledge only furthered his displeasure. "You can choose where we go, as long as it's within RiverClan territory." Gruffly, he waited for Starlord to make his choice.

He trotted ahead, feeling each step become lighter. Behind the loner, a long ginger tail flowed easily from side to side in front of Scorchclaw's nose. How close it came to brushing the deputy's maw was unintentional. But as the other tom finally responded, he could not help the smirk that twitched at the corners of his maw. While seemingly a let down of a morning, the deputy's serious nature was rather humorous to the loner. As he listened to the first words, little more happened than the flick of one ear. There was no point in replying. If Scorchclaw wanted to believe that he would be rot-brained enough to take an army out, then he really must have been as daft as Jaystar. The thought was rather amusing but he pushed it aside for now.

Underneath the scarlet light, the territory looked strange. Starlord's steps slowed before stopping. For a brief second, he mulled over the unnatural state of the world right now. Snapping back to the present task, the tom shot a look back over his shoulder at the other cat along with him. He shrugged away the look that Scorchfang sent his way. Allowed to pick where we go? Keeping himself from snorting with laughter was near impossible. Even harder was holding back the snide remark that he was grateful to be allowed such a magnificent honor. Back in, well, anywhere else, no cat decided where he was able to set his paws or not. Only in the forest did a loner need permission to experience the world. A low, mildly aggravated breath released from his nostrils.

"How about over here?" Starlord's voice broke the silence after a long moment. There was a patch of dying water plants not far from them. It seemed as good as any to try his luck. Not like there were many different places in this forsaken water-logged land. After only a moment, there was a flash of brown fur as the foliage was disturbed. With little more than another flick of his tail, the loner darted away and quickly caught the vole with a flash of his claws. More than satisfied with the display of skill, he returned to the other cat and rested his stomach to the ground before bowing his head and taking a small bite from the supple flesh. Surprisingly, it tasted just fine. He glanced up at the deputy and meowed, "Are you going to catch something, or just stand there all day? Evening... or whatever time it is these days?"

For a minute or two, the two toms padded along in silence. The temporary reprieve from conversation was welcomed by Scorchclaw. Now if only Starlord could speak as little as possible for the rest of the patrol. The less talking the two of them did, the quicker the patrol would go by. That day, the sun was once again a crimson smudge within the grasp of the black sky. Shadows lurked in every direction one turned their gaze to. In the absence of sunlight, Scorchclaw's every sense had grown sharper and more sensitive. As he strolled along behind Starlord, his tufted ears were pricked to detect even the slightest of sounds. At length, the ginger-and-white rogue made a pick. Casting his green gaze in the direction that Starlord had indicated, Scorchclaw huffed softly. "Good enough." He said, tone lacking in emotion. When Starlord dashed off, the RiverClanner merely watched on with narrowed eyes. Admittedly, the brown tabby had some interest in the rogue's hunting skills. He got his answer soon enough, as Starlord soon returned with the vole borne triumphantly in his jaws. Goldeneye's friend was a surprisingly good hunter, if nothing else.

Lowering his head, Starlord proceeded to take a bite out of the fresh-kill. While inwardly startled, Scorchclaw maintained his poker face well enough. Ah, right. Unlike clan cats, rogues and loners did not follow the Warrior Code. His patrolmate wasn't obligated to give his prey up to those back in the camp. He was a... guest. While he had not consciously expected Starlord to follow the Third Rule, the sight was still a surprising one. At the other tom's reminder, Scorchclaw flicked his long tail in response. Stepping a little distance away, he scented the air. A thrush seemed to be lurking in the proximity. While its feathers were rather a pain to eat, it had a light, unique flavor that he enjoyed. It would be a good catch, one that his clanmates would hopefully appreciate. The flutter of delicate wings sounded in the darkness. In a flash, Scorchclaw had leaped forward. The struggle was a quick one, ending with the critter motionless beneath his paws. He regarded his catch with an impassive gaze. Sharp eyes took in the blood that had spattered across its spotted white chest. A clumsy catch, but it had worked. His forte was catching fish, after all. Birds often seemed so full of life, flitting and dancing across the sky. Facing his claws, however, their lives were so easily extinguished. It was curious indeed. Gingerly lifting it up, he carried it back to Starlord.

The thrush was quickly buried. "Shall we continue?" Scorchclaw asked seriously.

"Not going to eat? You'll starve during the hunt. Besides, it won't taste as fresh after being left in the dirt." Through a mouthful of vole, the ginger tom raised an eyebrow at the seemingly innocent question. A naive tone was forced into his voice as he remembered the thrill of aggravating the Riverclan deputy. If they were to be stuck together, the tom might as well enjoy himself a little. And, of course, Starlord was well acquainted with the rules of the warrior code. When Gold spoke, there was seldom a moment that he was no listening to her voice. Whether or not he cared for the laws upheld by the forest cats was another question. It seemed that Scorchclaw was either very controlled when it came to reigning in his temper or missed the blatant lack of respect displayed by the loner. Either way, as soon as Scorchclaw suggested they continue, he scarfed down the last of his catch and sprung back to his feet.

While they padded along, the bicolored tom found himself briefly deep in a multitude of thoughts. And his disdain towards the Riverclan cats was briefly replaced with a growing pity. The very same feeling had been what he had first felt with Goldeneye, and anger that seemed to melt into a twisted sympathy for such misguided cats. While in his time here, Starlord had learned that no every cat was like Jaystar. Unfortunately, they still had the same cotton between their ears that all clan cats seemed to possess, but most were strangely normal in their varied personalities. He had found several companions over the moons. Scorchclaw was one of the few that he had seen little more than a neutral expression cross his face. There seemed to be not even a single ounce of joy contained within his bones. That was when Starlord got an idea. A dangerously reckless idea, one he was sure he would lose his pelt for. But that had never stopped him before.

His bright blue eyes flickered back to look at the deputy. He had sprinted quite a distance as he had been lost in his thoughts, paws quickening unbeknownst to their owner. Off to the left was the endless rushing of the river. However, here it seemed to soften to a babble. Starlord quickly deduced that these were shallows with little more than the sound and a glance. With a flick of his tail, he beckoned the other cat over with his tail. Knowing his hunting companion was a thorough Riverclan cat, there would be no way he would resist the opportunity to fish, especially after the messiness of the previous catch that the loner had certainly not missed. He was almost eerily quiet for a moment as he stared at the waters from about a tail-length away. Goldeneye had attempted to teach him about fishing but he had never found an affinity for it. Muttering something about wanting to watch the technique first he backed away.

From behind the other tom, a grin overtook his face. Scorchclaw's shadow cast over the waters that seemed to flicker red as a reflection of the abnormal sky. A silent count ran down in his head. And then he charged forwards. Starlord's head butted solidly into the middle of Scorchclaw's mass, knocking him off his paws and into the shallow depth of the river. Droplets of water sprayed the loner and he let out a jovial yowl, "All too easy! I really got you there, Scorchy!" Instead of preparing for the boiling rage that was about to rise up from the river, Starlord remembered when he had done a similar thing to his brother in the past. Rocket had been pissed, and thoroughly soaked for half the day. Despite the fight that had ensued, ending with Starlord being tackled to the ground. It had been a perfect day. Bittersweet emotion caused the lopsided smile on his face to falter as he waited unexpectantly for the deputy to resurface.

Expressionless green met with lively blue. Unlike the free-roaming rogue, the fluffy deputy had a whole clan of cats to help feed. If it was for the sake of those who were weaker than he was, he could even get used to the gnawing bite of hunger. Ever since he had been an apprentice, such principles had been instilled within him. On the other paw, Starlord did not have to care for anyone but himself. "There is no need for you to worry about me." Scorchclaw responded coldly. "And, I believe you already know the reason." He paid no heed to the innocent tone that Starlord had used. The other tom had been here long enough to know of the most basic of their customs. From the very start of their interaction that morning, Starlord had been deliberately trying to get on his nerves. What was it that the ginger-and-white rogue wanted? What was he trying to accomplish? A low, almost inaudible rumble of displeasure sounded from the large brown tabby.

Scorchclaw waited with thinly veiled impatience for Starlord to finish up his meal. Once the last scraps of vole were gone, the two set off again. As the seconds ticked by, his reluctant companion seemed to lose himself to thought. Scorchclaw plodded along behind him. His gaze would roam from side to side, occasionally returning itself to the smaller cat ahead. It was good that such times existed. Not too long ago, he and Jaystar had been standing in the Fourtrees clearing, watching with wide eyes as Littlestar's lifeblood gushed out of the massive wound torn in her underside. In comparison to the rapidly approachig war, he supposed that even a patrol with Starlord couldn't be too bad. It was a pity that he could not read minds. Unbeknownst to the deputy, while the very thought flitted across his mind, Starlord had arrived at an exasperating conclusion.

When the other tom beckoned him over to the water, Scorchclaw didn't hesitate to approach. Here, the stream's flowing was a gentle burble--inherently comforting, yet full of life. Silent approval rose up within him. It was a pleasant spot, one that Starlord had chosen well. In addition, he would be able to catch fish. Perhaps he was simply being stubborn, but he refused to display an embarrassing performance before a rogue. Starlord had been watching his earlier catch, and the knowledge was like bitter herbs that refused to slide down his throat. For such reasons, he was feeling particularly critical towards himself. Silently lashing his tail in response to Starlord's request, Scorchclaw peered into the shallows. Completely unsuspecting of the rogue's intentions, he was caught off guard when a sudden force sent him stumbling forward. Having been crouched just a little distance away from the water's edge, there was nowhere to go but in. He landed in the water with a loud splash, throwing up a small wave. For a second, he was overcome by a sensation of déjà vu. Shade's image flashed through his mind, and he remembered the sensation of claws digging into his pelt. Reacting on instinct and partial panic, he lashed out with his paws. They collided with the mucky bottom of the stream, and he suddenly found himself half-submerged. What...?! Eyes wide and coughing wildly, he whirled around to face the shore.

Then Starlord's words registered in his ears. "All too easy! I really got you there, Scorchy!" Was that... was that amusement in his tone? Through the water in his vision, he could make out the rogue's silhouette on the stream bank. At that moment, something within Scorchclaw snapped. A screech of fury tore unbridled from his jaws. Whatever prey there was in the area must have fled immediately. Taking long strides, he emerged from the water. It appeared that Starlord wasn't wise enough to flee. If he had dashed back to camp, where Goldeneye or Jaystar could protect him, there would have been nothing Scorchclaw could do. Instead, Starlord was foolish enough to stay put. In a flash, The RiverClan tom had leaped upon the rogue and held him down. As he gazed down upon that infuriating visage, fire seemed to leap within the depths of his green gaze. "What," He hissed, "do you think you're doing? This whole time, I've been holding myself back because of what you did for Goldeneye. But there are some borders that shouldn't be crossed." Claws, unsheathed, pricked Starlord's flesh. "Did you think that you could do whatever you wanted simply because I was being patient? Don't be so cocky, you filthy rogue!" The sharp words slipped right off his tongue. Most of RiverClan knew what Scorchclaw's tolerance was like. He didn't have much of it.

There was only so much that he could take. Duckpuddle's corpse, overlaid with Shade's snarl, flickered before his eyes.

He had been ready for frustration, aggravation, emotions that Rocket had shown in when the same event had occurred to him. The loner's tail flowed happily behind him. Although it was not the same with Scorchclaw, something about reliving the old memory was almost reassuring to Starlord. It caused a warm feeling in the pit of his chest as he waited excitedly, expectantly, for the deputy to come back. In his mind, one that was now overtaken with reminiscent thoughts, this would end in a mock battle before they continued on. As their group had traveled, the time was usually spent messing around with each other. Having no particular place to be allowed for such leisure quite often. His blue eyes glowed at the idea of finally being on a patrol that would remind him of the old days. Scorchclaw was stiff but he could easily work that out of him.

Perhaps it was merely the memory, the longing for the past, that made Starlord have such an unfortunate choice for such a thing. He could not have prepared for what happened next. As the Riverclan cat thrashed in the water, a barrage of laughter exploded from the loner. Seeing Scorchclaw in such a state was humorous in his own. Starlord was so wrapped up in what he believed would occur that he did not move a muscle as the warrior burst from the water and was on him in a flash. This was far from the first time that he had been pinned to the ground by a cat who wanted to kill him, but in his state, he had not expected it. Nor had he been brilliant enough to expect the unadulterated rage written across the other tom's features. The prickle of claws was lost on him as he stared up at Scorchclaw. It took a moment for everything to register, even the words that had been hissed so vehemently in his face.

"I-I'm sorry." He finally managed to get out. Moments earlier he had found such great joy in pestering the deputy. But he had only meant to have some fun, to relive one of those simple moments that refused to take itself from his mind. Forever he was doomed to remember the ones he had lost. Now, Starlord could not even conjure up an ounce of disdain for the other cat. It was merely a sense of guilt that wormed its way into his belly. Normally, he might have fought off the attacker, bite into them with some snarky words as he did so, but none of that came to his maw. Starlord simply looked at Scorchclaw. After a second passed and a low breath caused his chest to fall. The whole time his eyes never left the deputy. To him, it felt like an eternity before he spoke again in an uncharacteristically small voice, "My brother and I used to do that when we were little. I didn't mean any harm. Just let me up okay? We can finish hunting. Whatever you want."

Starlord hated how pitiful he sounded. Any of the jovial tones of his usual candor seemed to have disappeared. Somewhere deep inside he still resented this tom, still found himself endlessly aggravated with their culture and the leader they followed. But having been brought back into the moment out of his past was something that must have been as shocking as the cold water that dripped from Scorchclaw's coat and onto his fur. It was like being immediately plunged into the depths of a frozen river right after taking solace in the most contenting ray of sunlight. For so long he had fought back the pain of loss that had been scabbed over by his connection with Gold and her kits. It seemed like the wound had never healed, merely festered. Now, he simply wished to be back in his den. Or, rather, Goldeneye's den. There was no place for him to call home.

Scorchclaw had never been one to appreciate a joke, being unable to distinguish them most of the time. Starlord's laughter was humiliating, but the simple prank had also been the trigger for the release of darker memories. On his left cheek, a little beneath his eye, was a scar that Shade had caused. It would be an eternal reminder of the murderous Exile's existence. The experienced of being stabbed in the back and thrown into the water yet again rekindled emotions that had died down.

If Starlord had fought back, Scorchclaw wouldn't have been surprised. It was what he expected to happen. In the spur of the moment, he had put his disdain for the outsider on full display. There was no taking back the venomous words he had spat forth, and he did not intend to do so. Driven by the anger surging through his veins, he had pinned the ginger-and-white tom to the ground. Somehow, Starlord didn't seem like the kind of cat who would be this easily cowed. If Scorchclaw's glare could have been just a little more intense, he could have burnt a hole in the rogue's fur. He found himself almost waiting for the other cat's retaliation. Then he would have an excuse to claw him. What happened, however, was completely different from his expectations.

Starlord stared up at him, bright eyes wide. As the seconds ticked by, he showed no sign of getting angry. When he finally spoke up, his voice was small. Instead of a sharp-witted comment or a rebuttal, what slipped from his jaws was an apology. He almost seemed to shrink beneath the RiverClan deputy. He was like one that had just woken up from a daydream. Upon awakening to reality, it took a moment for that cat to react. This startling response threw Scorchclaw for a loop, so that he froze. Had Starlord finally realized that he had messed with the wrong cat? That... didn't really seem to be the case. Rather than fear, a certain hollowness seemed to inhabit the rogue's tone. The change from who he had been just half-a-minute ago was drastic. Much of Scorchclaw's fury couldn't help but dissipate in that moment. All traces of Shade vanished from his surroundings. What was he even doing right now? This tom wasn't Shade, and neither had he been trying to kill Scorchclaw. Nostrils flaring, he released an exasperated breath.

Scorchclaw sheathed his claws before backing off the rogue. There were better things to do than start a pointless fight, especially because he was RiverClan's deputy.  Something within him seemed to sense Starlord's pain, knew that this was the best course of action. "I lost my temper." He grudgingly acknowledged, "Forgive me. You reminded me of something unpleasant from the past. I am not your brother, and it would do you well to remember that." Turning away so that he did not have to face Starlord, he shook out his pelt. Water droplets went flying through the air. "Let's just continue hunting. We've only caught one piece of prey each." There was a pause, before he asked, "Where is your brother now, if you had one?" As usual, his voice had a sort of quiet solemness to it. He flicked his dark tail, waiting to see if Starlord would answer him.

Swallowing back memories of the past, Starlord slowly got to his paws as the deputy stepped away. There was a certain shakiness to his step as he stood and fought to control his limbs. It caused the blood to pound in his ears, which briefly flattened against his skull. Somewhere been the pressing pain of everything lost and the embarrassment of such a moment in front of the Riverclan cat. He padded onward with lagging steps as he kept pace with larger cat. The shock of an apology caused a further hesitation in his pace. But he finally managed a stiff nod with a tiny twist of his neck. After another exhale he managed a weak laugh as he glanced up at Scorchclaw, "No. You're certainly not my brother..." The words trailed off into another bought of referencing memories of time with Rocket. With Drax. With Pelly. He squeezed his eyes shut but they quickly shot open at the question.

Any thoughts of hunting were quickly forgotten and he found himself strangely willing to share with the cat who had pinned him to the river bank only moments earlier. Starlord took a deep breath, steeling his nerves as he started with a single word, "Gone." It caught in his throat. Somehow telling Jaystar this same fact in a fit of frustration, spurred on by the notion that loner merely abandoned their own, was easier than saying it aloud to someone who genuinely asked the question. With a curious look, he peered up at the other cat. Was Scorchclaw honestly interested in his past? Or was it merely a formality? He decided on neither. The deputy did not seem like the kind to waste his breath with formalities. It was with a mild amusement and twitch of his whiskers that he noted the differences between Jaystar and the deputy. They were alike in beliefs, so an extent, but their mannerisms were vastly different.

"I had two brothers, Rocket and Drax. Our traveling companions, James and P-pelly," he hated the way he still managed to stumble over her name, interrupting his usually smooth manner of speech, "they were a part of our group as well. A storm hit, many months ago. There was blinding rain, awful wind. Nothing was clear. We all got separated and I was knocked out. By the time I came to... everyone was gone. I stayed in the walker lands until Golden found me. So who knows where they are now." With a glance up at the cool, fall sky, he couldn't help but wonder if they were looking up at the same one and pondering his whereabouts. Or did they now rest under the dominion of the great star lords? That was a question he would likely never have an answer to, a mystery that would forever evade him and leave his seeking futile attempts to fill the holes that had been left behind.

"We're not savages, you know? There seems to be this idea that all loners sit in the rot of walkers and never groom themselves and fight over scraps. But, it was a good life, Scorchclaw. It really was nothing like that. And we were all happy." Starlord wasn't sure what possessed him to add that on, he'd really answered more than the deputy cared to know but speaking more than he should have was not out of character for the loner. After a brief silence, he flicked his tail, "So, hunting?"