change of fate [c]

It was night; and being awake mostly in the nighttime almost felt as strange and unfamiliar now as being awake mostly in the daytime had been not so long ago. Regardless, those days were over, as were the days of separate Clans being little more than a formality. They had finally, after all they'd been through, returned home and parted ways, and there had been tearful reunions between friends and family.

Afterward, Mothpaw had spent the last few days recovering from the injuries she'd sustained during the battle in the mountains. She refused to speak of it, not wanting to remember in the first place, but frustratingly unable to forget. Her thoughts always came back to what she'd witnessed there, tossed aside by a dog like a minor annoyance and left helpless to watch as her friends, her Clanmates, and even strangers were injured-- or far worse.

Looking up at the starry skies above them, she wished her ancestors to give her the courage to follow through. She had come to a conclusion in the time she'd had to think, and now it was time to make it known. Dad, she thought, as she reached his den. But no, this wasn't a family matter...

"Dad-- Scorchstar," she said, voice uncharacteristically serious. "May I come in?"

Surprise was evident in Scorchstar’s expression. He knew all his kits well, and Mothpaw was no exception — to hear her refer to him by his full name caught him off guard. The tone of her voice was very much unlike her as well. Of course, she would always be seen as a young molly in his eyes, as did the rest of his sons and daughters, but even so, she was still rather young. In fact, she and her littermate Silentpaw both were his youngest biological kits. She shouldn’t have to make herself sound so ... grown-up. Was something wrong?

Not wanting to distress her by showing signs of concern, Scorchstar instead sat up in his nest and invited her inside. He smiled fondly at her daughter when she entered his den, expression full of love and compassion. ”Hello, Mothpaw. What can I do for you?” he mewed.

"I..." Mothpaw started, trying to say what she felt so strongly, but her voice faltered and faded. How could she put her feelings into words; everything she was struggling with now? It was so much worse with the way her father looked at her - she didn't want to disappoint him somehow, but that felt like the only thing this decision could lead to. But everything felt wrong, somehow, since the battle in the mountains... "Dad, I..." It was there, on the tip of her tongue, if she could just force it out.


There. She'd said it. Her feelings, more or less - excepting the awful things she'd seen that she hadn't dared share with anyone at all - were out in the open. What kind of cat was she, unable to bring herself to fight? To watch as her friends were hurt - killed - before her, with nothing she could do to prevent it? To come home from the lakeshore, and then the mountains, to a world that felt somehow wrong in new ways with every day? She couldn't even be a warrior, even that felt wrong now. She couldn't swear an oath to lay down her life for her Clan in battle, not anymore. She couldn't take a warrior name.

She realized, though, that Scorchstar was probably confused by her outburst, and tried to explain without betraying too much of what she'd experienced. The last thing she wanted was to somehow make things even more difficult for him than they probably already were - which was a large part of her hesitation to even bring it up. "Ever since the mountains... It's felt wrong. It was fun to fight, at first! And then it wasn't anymore... But it's what I was good at. Except I can't anymore, I just can't..."

Scorchstar straightened up in his sitting position, thoroughly surprised by her outburst. It wasn’t what she had said, but rather the way she had said it. Though it was still a little surprising to learn she no longer wanted to train as a warrior. She was very good at hunting and fighting, and providing for her Clan. But, of course, he would never dream of forcing her into doing anything she didn’t want to do.

Especially where there was a clear second option for her to take.

He didn’t want to suggest that, though. At least, not yet. First, he wanted to hear what she wanted her alternative plan to be now that she won’t be training in the ways of a warrior anymore. He dipped his head respectfully in acknowledgement. ”If you truly don’t wish to continue training to be a warrior, Mothpaw, I will not force you. You are free to choose your own path, follow your own destiny, as every cat here is. With that being said, what do you believe you want to be instead of a warrior?” He fixed her with a soft gaze, patiently waiting for her answer.

Scorchstar's response was better than Mothpaw could have hoped for. The reassurance that she didn't have to be a warrior, that she was free to choose her path, filled her with the confidence she needed to do so. Except... She wasn't certain what that path would be. If not a warrior, then what? The answer was clear in the medicine den without a cat to tend it, and besides that there were only so many things a cat that refused to fight could do... But she wasn't a StarClan-chosen kit ready to learn about the healing powers of plants or know the secrets of her ancestors. She was nearly a warrior, ready to forget everything she knew for a chance to feel at peace again.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. The option of medicine cat was there, faint but present, but she still didn't feel like it was something she could do. Medicine cats were chosen by StarClan, weren't they...? Could she choose that path for herself, the one that seemed shrouded in darkness she couldn't see through? Would StarClan accept her if she did? She didn't know, she wasn't sure... "I just know that I don't want to fight. I want to help, I don't want to hurt anyone..."