A bad liar (closed)

Laying at the base of Highpine with his head faced down and tucked in between his fore-paws was Tinystar with tears streaming down his face. Although sunhigh, the sunlight stayed covered by a thick blanket of overcast above and thick flakes of snow fell onto the forest floor. If one didn't look hard enough, they might've missed the small white leader, especially since he was practically almost covered in snow, but he didn't care. He didn't know how long he'd been laying where he was, but his body ached from heaving of his stomach and the tears from crying began to sting his face. But it didn't matter, for he deserved it.

Just last Sun-high, he'd executed Sparrowpaw and exiled Nightstorm, one of his best warriors. While in the moment, he hadn't felt any remorse or mercy, the weight of such drastic decisions began to crush the tiny tom and he'd needed to get out of the camp. Upon wandering and wondering where to go, his stubby legs brought him to the Highpine, the same place in which his older brother, Antdrop, had lost his life. So here he laid, sobbing in the silence of the forest air, with only the soft wisps of the Leafbare breeze to keep him company.

He was such a mousebrain, no, such a foxheart. He had really believed that killing Sparrowpaw would rid him of his problems, but in the end, it ultimately made things worse, seeing as though he'd lost the trust and respect of his clanmates along the way, which hurt him more than anything. All he'd wanted to do was protect them, but he was a complete fool in thinking that ending Sparrowpaw's life was the answer. And now, he was all alone, with no one to find council in; not even Mistyrain or Moonlight. Tinystar had contemplated speaking with one of them after the gathering, but the fear of showing his true, pigeon-hearted colors was too much, and so he decided to be alone. Maybe then, he wouldn't hurt anyone else.

"Why me?!" the small, snow covered leader suddenly yowled, lifting his head and craning his neck so that he looked up the large tree. Closing his eyes, tears continued to well down his face. "W-why me?" Tinystar choked in a softer voice, to no one in particular. Now that he thought about it, he didn't have a clue who he was speaking to. Maybe his dead kin up above? Only Silverpelt knew, but whoever might've been listening to him up there was most likely extremely disappointed in him.

SkyClan's camp had been dead silent with palpable tension since the execution of Sparrowpaw in the middle of camp the day prior. Cats spoke quietly with nervously darting glances or not at all, some traumatized, some infuriated. Amberdawn, a newly named medicine cat, was part of the first group, too anxious to speak and too traumatized to want to think either. The young golden tabby felt that she had nowhere to turn since Sedgestrike's death at Mintwhisker's claws had been revealed by Goldeneye of RiverClan at the Gathering. Admittedly, she had learned about it at the half-moon meeting, but she hadn't had the chance to ask Mintwhisker herself. Her feelings of isolation and of not being trusted had only deepened when she understood why her mentor was no longer close with Sparrowpaw: Sparrowpaw had known Mintwhisker murdered her father.

After the execution and the exiles, Amberdawn didn't want to speak to anyone. She thought hard of leaving camp, but she knew that leaf-bare was no time for a young and inexperienced cat, even a medicine cat, to be out of camp on their own. Instead she had returned to the medicine cat's den and curled into her nest in a tight ball, pretending to be asleep. She didn't move when Mintwhisker returned to the den. After what felt like hours she finally sank into a frightened, restless sleep, and she woke before the sun had risen to find that the thick, scattered dark clouds above were sending flurries of snow down. This is an ominous start to new-leaf, Amberdawn thought, and immediately recollections of the previous day flooded into her mind. She dawdled in the den, absently "sorting" - really, just picking things up and shuffing them around - until the first hints of light began to lighten the clouds.

At sunrise, Amberdawn left the camp. She didn't dare look at the spot where the young gray apprentice had been killed the day before. She simply exited and wandered into the forest, moving aimlessly and slipping under the weighted boughs of thick pines whenever the coldness of the snow became noticeable through her emotional numbness. The golden tabby just didn't understand. Tinystar had been so... so unlike himself. She and Tinystar were kin - they'd shared tongues! She had never thought he would consider violence the answer. Amberdawn hadn't been alive when Sedgestrike was killed; she didn't know what had happened completely. She did, however, know that Sparrowpaw had stood with SkyClan against her own father and been struck by him as a result of it. How could Tinystar have repaid her that way? She'd denounced her own kin for denouncing Tinystar, but in the end she'd done the same, too.

Were they right?

Thoughts tumbled in Amberdawn's head as she wandered for countless hours until her paws were numb and ice crystals formed around her muzzle and whiskers. I have to go back to camp eventually, she told herself, and after another short while she got her bearings and began to make her way back towards her home. As she neared the Highpine, a sharp, agonized yowl floated through the light storm to her ears. Immediately alerted, Amberdawn picked up her pace and cautiously continued in that direction, crunching through the snow. When at last the Highpine was in sight, the golden medicine cat apprentice froze, for half-buried in the snow was the small gray-and-white leader of SkyClan, looking mournfully up at the sky. She sucked in a breath and stared at him uneasily, then began to slowly back away the direction she had come. She definitely didn't want to disturb him, and she hoped her hadn't noticed her.

Having been staring up at the sky in the stale silence of the lonesome forest, the crunch of snow sent his ears to shoot up from where they'd been stuck against the back of his head. Snapping his head around, Tinystar caught sight of Amberdawn standing a few foxlengths away. Immediately, his heart practically leaped out of his chest and jumping up, the small tom sent a plume of light, fluffy snow flying into the air so that she was barely visible, though because of his height, he already had trouble seeing, seeing as though he was neck deep in snow.

"W-wait!" the small leader exclaimed, barely able to contain himself. While he was personally relieved to be graced by the presence of the young she-cat, he quickly remembered that he was probably the last cat she wanted to see or even be around. Noticing that she'd begun to back up, most likely to get away from him, his heart sank. She had every right not to want to talk with him and he should've known better than to get his hopes up. But, even so, he still didn't want to let her go back to camp, for he was yearning to talk to someone, even if that meant being scolded.

"Please," Tinystar mewed softer. "Don't go."

He had noticed her. The medicine cat apprentice froze yet again, her dark amber gaze meeting his desperate baby blue one. Amberdawn was certain he would see the fear and discomfort on her face, but when she tried to call upon her medicine cat training of maintaining a neutral expression she found herself too unnerved by Tinystar's sudden jump and pleading to change her facial expression. He wouldn't kill me for leaving, would he? a small, quiet voice in her brain asked, and a part of her didn't know the answer. Part of her dared not turn her back on her grandfather and truly feared what he might do. However, as she continued to stare at his tear-stained face and listen to his pleading, the young medicine cat realized this cat wasn't the same cat at Sparrowpaw's execution. This cat wouldn't raise a paw to her; he seemed startled enough to have raised his voice.

And so, Amberdawn didn't move at all. She stopped backing away, but she didn't move closer, feeling a little comforted by the distance between them and confused by the situation she found herself in. Thoughts of the Tinystar of yesterday - eyes focused yet unseeing, listening intently but hearing nothing, mercilessly opening the throat of an apprentice who asked for no mercy - clashed with the visual of the white and gray leader now who stood trembling and ice-covered in the snow, eyes sunken and hollow-looking. This Tinystar looked like the one who had lost his youngest, smallest daughter not so many moons ago. Amberdawn didn't understand what had changed as she stared at him now and asked softly, with terrified civility, "Yes, Tinystar?"

"I..." he began, personally relieved that she had chosen to stay, though of course the stifling tension in the air was deafening. "I... I'm sorry, for e-everything," he choked, trying not to start crying again. Great StarClan, he was such a fool for ever thinking he could be tough, when look at him now. He was practically sludge, or no, better yet, complete mush.

"F-for trying to have you and Mintwhisker do such a detrimental task, for making you and the clan watch me do such a horrible thing... for being such a pathetic excuse for a leader," he whimpered, looking down to his paws. While some might have thought that he was simply looking for pity, that wasn't his intent at all, for his heart was truly filled to capacity with regret and shame for his sudden actions last Sunhigh, and he didn't know how in Silverpelt's name to deal with such overbearing emotions.

The soft question hung quietly in the air for a moment, and Amberdawn watched her leader uneasily as he struggled to respond. The golden tabby she-cat stood motionless despite that she wanted nothing more than to flee. Her dark amber gaze focused hard on Tinystar, finding it hard to have pity for him as he tried awkwardly to find his words. Finally his voice broke out: "I... I'm sorry, for e-everything." The medicine cat apprentice didn't know what to say. Only the tip of her tail flicking lightly and the tiniest clouds of vapor forming around her nostrils betrayed that she wasn't made of stone. She simply watched her leader as he struggled to form whatever words he was trying to say. How different this tom was from the callous leader of yesterday.

His next words were significantly more surprising than the first: Tinystar apologized for trying to force Mintwhisker to kill Sparrowpaw with herbs, for forcing Amberdawn and the Clan to watch, and for "being such a pathetic excuse for a leader." Amberdawn's gaze turned stony at the last part, and she had to clench her jaw to refrain from bitterly agreeing and arguing that "detrimental" was an understatement. The medicine cat apprentice took a slow, deep breath, not breaking her stare at her leader as the small white tom continued to look even smaller, looking at his paws that were buried in the snow as he nearly was. Amberdawn stared at her grandfather for a long time, wondering what else he had to say.

Is he really sorry that he killed Sparrowpaw, a bitter voice asked in Amberdawn's head, or is he just sorry that SkyClan seems to have turned on him for his decision? But the golden she-cat didn't voice those thoughts. She thought of what he had said at Sparrowpaw's execution. Tinystar had been so confident then, stating that his Clanmates were foolish and blind and that they needed to learn a lesson and see things from his perspective. The only perspective Amberdawn had seen that day was one of a vengful murderer; today, that murderer was a moping, drooping pile of guilt. Why didn't he listen to us then? the voice asked angrily. The whole Clan told him not to, and he had the audacity to claim that StarClan wasn't opposed to his choice!

Inside Amberdawn could feel herself growing more furious with the meek, small tom before her, but outside she kept a neutral face, still frozen in the same position she had been. Part of her still feared him, but seeing how pitiful he looked only made her more frustrated. She didn't voice any of the thoughts she'd had; instead, Amberdawn responded simply, "I see." But she didn't.

"I just wanted to protect the clan, I swear," he croaked, his throat tightening up. Why in Silverpelt's name hadn't StarClan stopped him? He'd been certain that they'd been alright with it and if they hadn't, then they would've somehow stopped him, right? Maybe they didn't really care, or maybe they just didn't have time to send him a sign that said otherwise? Either way, he'd never know, which sent a shiver down his spine. Or maybe the shiver was just from his paws practically being practically frozen, who knew.

"I-I made a rash decision, but a-all I wanted to do was keep you and SkyClan safe from a-another cat that could've ended up like S-Sedgestrike," he mewed, his teeth chattering throughout the words. While Amberdawn may not believe him, what the tiny leader said was the cold hard truth, seeing as though he'd never want to hurt his clanmates, much less his own family members.

Almost immediately trying to defend himself, Tinystar choked up as he insisted he wanted to defend the Clan. Truthfully, Amberdawn believed that: she believed that he truly believed he was defending the Clan. The slender golden tabby didn't dare relax now. The longer she stood there, listening to Tinystar and watching him tremble in the cold, the more she realized that she was the angriest she'd ever been in her life...

... and it was at her leader who she was supposed to trust - her grandfather she was supposed to trust - no matter what. Trust he would make the best decisions. Trust he would listen to and respect his Clan. Trust he would protect them.  

Tinystar had broken their trust in all of that yesterday, yet today he seemed as broken by his actions as they were. That made her more angry than anything. Death was permanent, but anger wasn't. How could Tinystar have allowed such a temporary emotion to create such permanent damage when he had two medicine cats, a trusted deputy, and countless kin around him warning him against it? How could he have executed an apprentice so viciously one day and then been so guilty about it the next? How could he possibly expect to make it right? Certainly not by wailing and whining in the forest.

After a long silence, Amberdawn sighed and asked quietly, "Is SkyClan safer now? Are we better than we were the day before yesterday?" Her dark amber eyes stared into Tinystar's baby blues for a moment before she looked away, meowing, "SkyClan will certainly be worse off if our leader disappears into the forest and freezes to death before anyone thinks to search for him." Finding that she herself was trembling slightly, Amberdawn crossed through the snow to Tinystar's side, pressing her slightly warmer fur against his violently shivering body. Part of her mind protested and wanted her to recoil from the murderer. "We need to get you back to camp," she instructed softly, stepping forward to guide Tinystar back towards camp.

Amberdawn still didnt forgive Tinystar. She was still angry. Despite her helpful gesture to share her body heat, she was certain that her attempts to avoid eye contact and their conversation so far had made her feelings clear: she didn't understand what he'd done. She didn't respect his reasons for killing Sparrowpaw. There were other options.

Listening to Amberdawn who'd finally said more than a sentence, tears began streaming down his already tear stained face once more and he sniffed, the moistness in his nose practically frozen from the temperature in which he'd been sitting in. While he admitted to being to harsh as far as the punishment in which he brought down upon Sparrowpaw, of course the clan was safer than they had been, but didn't dare say such a thing aloud.

Closing his eyes, the little leader let out a cough, his lungs beggining to ache from breathing in such frigged, dry air. Flinching as his granddaughter pressed herself against him, the tiny tom stood up, his stubby legs sore and shaky. Giving his pelt a shake, it didn't do much, seeing as though the current snow was heavy and wet, but it felt better than it all being packed down onto his pelt.

"I understand if you can't find it in yourself to forgive me," he mewed barely above a whisper as he trudged through the snow, which compared to his height, was almost up to his chin.

To Amberdawn, the answer to the question she asked Tinystar seemed obvious. Was SkyClan safer now? No. The medicine cat apprentice's birth Clan felt more foreign, hostile, and unfamiliar than it ever had before. It hadn't been a full day since Sparrowpaw's execution yet but somehow SkyClan felt like a completely different Clan. Without having spoken to anyone else, Amberdawn was certain that the Clan's respect for and trust in Tinystar had shattered like an icicle. How could the Clan continue when everyone was at odds with their leader? Was Sparrowpaw's death really worth that price? When Amberdawn asked Tinystar, however, he said nothing. She had only half expected an answer from her leader, but of course the answer she waited for was one that matched her own. Instead, Tinystar simply wept silently. Amberdawn's heart sank as she understood his silence.

The young cat pressed her golden tabby fur to her leader's as he coughed, and despite that beside him was the last place she wanted to be, Amberdawn knew that her duties as a medicine cat were more important than her feelings towards him at the moment. He shook the snow off his pelt and Amberdawn grimaced slightly but stayed close. His cough was confirmation to her that she was doing the right thing despite her gut instinct wanting her to leave him there. He pressed back against her weakly. Amberdawn tried not to think of the fact that she was nearly twice her leader's size. I could probably carry him back to camp, she thought, though the idea brought her no joy, amusement, or happiness of any kind. I shouldn't have to care for him like a scolded kit, though.

Finally the pair of them struck off through the snow back towards camp. After several long moments of silent crunching through the snow - Amberdawn taking a few small steps to Tinystar's many struggling ones - the SkyClan leader spoke.

"I understand if you can't find it in yourself to forgive me," the white tom said in a small voice, heavy with panting as he trudged through the snow.

Amberdawn's jaw clenched, and her eyes sparked with anger. Find it in myself?! she wanted to snarl at him, but she held her tongue and instead took a long, deep breath. He still spoke as if he were in the right - as if she were the foolish one, the unreasonable one for not understanding his motives. At least he had said as much the day before. "Are you all too foolish to see that I only want what is best for you?" he had demanded. The words rang in Amberdawn's head as she let out a breath, trying to release the unfamiliar feelings of anger inside her.

"The word of the Clan leader is the warrior code," Amberdawn replied in a toneless voice, sighing slightly as she spoke. "My forgiveness has no bearing on you." In her head, she continued, "An honorable warrior does not need to kill other cats to win his battles, unless they are outside the warrior code or it is necessary for self-defense." Sparrowpaw's execution wasn't self-defense. It wasn't a battle. She wasn't outside the warrior code...

Only StarClan can forgive you.