Light Of Day

OOC: since the 'found' topic died, I figured I'd just skip ahead

Lilypaw padded into Windclan camp, flanked by the patrol she had encountered on the moor. She shivered, her wide blue eyes scanning the clearing they had emerged into. This is it? Windclan's camp was...
Nothing more than a sandy clearing. Completely unprotected.
Where were the dens? Were they really okay sleeping with nothing between them and the sky? Lilypaw glanced upwards, into the pale blue sky. She couldn't help feeling uncomfortable on the moor. Without trees to shield her, a hawk, owl, or any number of dangerous birds could attack any minute.
"Brindlestar!" One of the cats trotted ahead, disappearing into the tall grass after only a few paces. Brindlestar. If she was being honest, Brindlestar scared Lilypaw more than any hawk could. Lilypaw had only attended two or three gatherings, but even she took notice of how severe the pale she-cat was.
What would she do?

She really hadn't thought this through. Brindlestar could do anything. Maybe she'd take her deep into Twolegplace so she couldn't find her way back to Windclan or Skyclan. Maybe she'd skip all that and kill her just in case it was a trap. After all, with such an unprotected camp, Brindlestar couldn't take any chances.
Lilypaw gulped, shuffling her paws. Did she look suspicious? She couldn't tell...

"Brindlestar!" Graybriar broke away from the rest of the patrol and bounded ahead to the leader's den, nestled right beneath the Tallrock. Whatever was going to happen to the SkyClanner, it would be her decision. But, given how she'd acted back when the warrior herself had come to WindClan... she didn't have much hope. When she found the pale-furred tabby, the she-cat launched into a quick-winded explanation. "Brindlestar, there's a she-cat who wants to join our Clan. She's from SkyClan, I think. Just an apprentice. If she joined, I would be willing to train her..." She had probably gone too far. Graybriar stopped, and swallowed. "She's in camp now, with Swiftstep and Murkpaw."

The chalky shadows, callous and burdened with the sour stench of illness, shifted in an unsettling eddy of sudden motion. Even within the rank dimness exuded by the looming face of the Tallrock, one could still glean the vapid motions of a swaying forepaw- an obvious and impatient edict for silence on Graybriar's behalf. Although Brindlestar's pale eyes were rheumy with the dredges of some trivial ailment, the serrated gleam of dissatisfaction was still agonizing evident, even as the harsh rasping exhale drifted beyond the confines of the molly's teeth. Why was it that every mildly dissatisfied creature from north of SkyClan's lands and beyond came strutting onto her Clan's lands at the first chance? Ruefully kneading the thin flesh atop the bridge of her muzzle, the pale-furred molly's ears twitched for a heartbeat or so. Two loners, and now a Clan cat? Perhaps she would need to impose a bit more self-restraint whenever an Apprentice or two were left unattended near open flame. The dry and brittle earth, stiff and unyielding as an unthawed piece of carrion, trembled and borne drifting pieces of decaying foliage in the wake of the slow gait of the molly. Lean shoulders protruding sharply from the confines of her thin pelt, Brindlestar still stood a head or so above both mollies of SkyClan origins, even in spite of apparent illness and seasonal malnutrition. "You'd do well to explain yourself," the stern words grated upon the soul as claws would against ice, "It's too late in the day, and the days too short to be making any... returns to SkyClan."

Lilypaw swallowed nervously, her hackles raising ever so slightly as one of the cats- Graybriar? -moved towards yet another dip in the ground. She shook her head, casting a quick, anxious glance at the sky. She frowned, taking a nervous breath. Here we go...

The small apprentice nearly squeaked as Brindlestar emerged, looking ruffled, but foreboding all the same. Her voice was sharp, her words short and curt. Lilypaw swallowed again. "Brindlestar," She began, her tail twitching nervously. "My name is Lilypaw, and I'm the daughter of Rippedstar." She winced the moment her father's name slipped out of her mouth. From what she remembered her father wasn't exactly liked by Ashstar, and by extension, her deputy.
She cleared her throat, her composure slipping. "W-which means I'm... half Windclan."
Lilypaw was shaking from head to toe. Oh Starclan, help me... "W-which means, if I'm not mistaken, that I get a choice, just like Mistyrain and her siblings did."
Did Brindlestar even know who Mistyrain was? Surely she did... Shut your mouth, mousebrain. She shifted her clear-blue gaze away from the ground, meeting Brindlestar's for a brief moment before glancing upward towards the sky once more. She waited nervously for Brindlestar's reaction, fully aware that whatever she just said was useless. What would Brindlestar do? Maybe she'd laugh. Did she think this was a joke? She didn't know much about the tall she-cat, but she certainly seemed quite serious.

Murkpaw padded stiffly behind the other apprentice as they made their way to camp, his eyes glaring into her pelt in unveiled hostility. Thoughts swirled bitterly through his head as he also, though more covertly, glared at Greybriar. I hate this place. The sudden bitter thought flashed into his mind, making his tail lash as he shoved it away again. Despite deliberately refusing to think it, it still left behind a bad taste in his mouth, pretty much summing up everything that had happened to him since he became an apprentice.
Before he could lose himself more in his raging thoughts, the other cats stopped. Caught off guard, he stopped almost mid-step, a little more abruptly than he usually would have. They wouldn't notice, the rabbit-brains. He sat down with a yawn as if he'd been paying attention the whole way, his tail twitching impatiently behind him. Brindlestar will just let her in, it happens every time. "No cat turned away," He thought sarcastically, carefully keeping his face neutral, only a slight twitch of his tail betraying him.
Sure enough, as soon as Greybriar went in, the leader - still smelling and looking sick - came out, her slightly rheumy eyes flashing fiercely as usual. And proceeded to do nothing but question the young molly. Her words though, they almost for a moment made him think she actually would toss the apprentice-aged she-cat out, except for the implication that if her explanation was good enough she'd be staying.
He felt an odd sort of pride as the young cat shifted and twitched nervously, her voice almost wavering before the looming leader in front of her. At least Brindlestar doesn't tolerate stupid cats. Too much.

”Rippedstar?” The sour remark scoured the tender flesh of Brindlestar’s throat, the sudden rush of fire that enveloped the previously marred contents of her vocal cords only serving to sharpen her abhorrent irritation. ”I suppose I should’ve recognized that incessant urge to come rushing off to the furthest Clan you could possibly find!” There was likely something to be said of some sort of coinciding irony that could be observed in the dredges of this odd situation- to flee a Clan, only to have your sire flee back to that very same Clan. Exhaling a reedy hiss through the particularly obscured passages of her nasal cavities, the pale molly reluctantly sat down, despite the inevitable surge of agony that flickered back to life at any and every movement.

”You’d do well to refrain from further referencing your lineage of previous familial absconding in my presence.” Brindlestar eventually admonished after several terse heartbeats, a weary look evident within the fever-glossed depths of her pale gaze.  ”What are you truly doing here? You are certainly not the first Apprentice to ever find themselves wondering of whether or not they belong, and you shall certainly not be the last to experience such inevitably age-induced angst. Have you come here because you simply wish to wield the power of a choice, or because you genuinely think it is the proper move to enact on your behalf?”

Lilypaw bit back a huff of anger as Brindlestar spoke, her voice rich with derision. She knew it was a mistake to mention her father's name...
The white molly flicked her tail as the she-cat sat down, wheezing a long-suffering sigh of resignation. Despite Brindlestar's blatant disinterest, Lilypaw was determined to push on. She took a short, calming breath and spoke.
"Since I was born, family has always been something important to me. When I thought I was a pure-blooded Skyclan cat, I was proud to be part of something, to belong to something. I thought that it was my birthright to become a Skyclan warrior and serve my clan, and I drew comfort from the thought that I was with my family despite the death of my parents and siblings. But then, I discovered my father's origins a-and..."
The small apprentice felt panic rush through her chest as she remembered the dreadful moment. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to grasp her slipping composure.
"I'm not my father, but I do carry his blood. Windclan blood. Since I learned that, it felt like something was pulling me here. I want to hunt and fight for my true family, my blood-kin." She swallowed. "Even if that means leaving Skyclan to get there."

Rippedstar was dead, and there was no part of him left in Skyclan. Something buried in her mind, her heart, her very marrow told her that if she was ever going to feel grounded again, she needed to go back to his roots. Her roots. She might hate being under the open sky, but she had no say in the matter, just as she had no say in the color of her eyes or the texture of her fur. She belonged to Windclan like a kit belonged to a queen.