To the Place I Belong...? (open)

Dawnpaw had just had quite the leisurely sunrise stroll, technically fleeing ShadowClan and RiverClan but also knowing that they wouldn't bother to pursue her. Perhaps they didn't even recognize her? She was sure her ThunderClan scent had long faded in the wilds. Which, she supposed, would be a minor issue approaching her home camp. If it could even be considered her home. The rogue had strongly considered her options before turning towards ThunderClan territory; the thought of returning to the barn she was birthed in had followed her for a very long time. But then what? Live alone on the edge of the territories? Or should she find a group of barn cats, could she adapt to their ways? Maybe they would even chase her off. Dawnpaw had once been a large cat with excellent strength, but now she was scrawny and hungry. Fighting off even one cat would be a challenge she couldn't face. It would be suicide to go somewhere so unpredictable. So she went home as she knew it.

Admittedly, the trees over her head and newly growing underbrush was a relief. Even the sturdy ground was welcoming compared to the wet and filthy land of ShadowClan. She probably couldn't have made it as a StagClanner. Dawnpaw's heart was heavy as she approached the ravine; a dawn patrol would be leaving the camp very soon. Maybe she'd run into Marshstorm or Beartooth on her way back in. Truthfully, those were the last cats she wanted to lay eyes on. They were sure to have noticed her absence the most, Marshstorm with his paternal tendencies and Beartooth with his awkward mentor role. The only cat Dawnpaw was looking forward to seeing was Pricklebush - he'd not pry into her business, instead hopefully busying himself with tending her old wounds. She made her way down the ravine, stopping as the guard halted her and demanded her business.

"I am Dawnpaw of ThunderClan and I have information for Leopardstar."

Beartooth was near the entrance of camp, preparing to lead yet another patrol, when the voice of a stern guard caught his ear. It wasn't curiosity that drew him, but rather the deeply seeded desire to always protect his clan in whatever way possible. There was no doubt that his life was a miracle, given the scars that crossed his coat and told of the many battles that he had been engaged in. If he was to die on behalf of the clan, he would have simply fulfilled his purpose. The thought that there could be an intruder at their camp entrance was no different. His claws unsheathed as his green eyes fixated on the gorse tunnel and he slid through, allowing it to snag his pelt without an utterance of a complaint. He stopped suddenly. What was before him could only be described as the sight of a ghost. Had Starclan chosen to walk among the living now? They already meddled enough, might as well.

But no stars studded the coat of this she-cat. It was like Harefoot's return all over again. A relief that he did not realize had built up in his chest seemed to be lifted. Some of the pressure that plagued him was gone in an instant. The long lost apprentice was there. Dawnpaw. To some, she was Lichenmask's daughter. To him, he had been one of the many cats whose training was placed in his paws. While he never really thought about it, those apprentice had likely been the closest bond he would ever see comparable to raising children. Very few cats were subject to his affections, a part that he had unintentionally lost over the moons. Ridgelight had seen it, and Harefoot did quite often. But it was something foreign to his relationship to the apprentice. Yet, Beartooth thought nothing of it as he padded forward to close the distance and lapped the top of her head in one swift lick before turning back to the tunnel, "Welcome home, Dawnpaw." He nodded to the young warrior who stood guard and lead her into the center of camp.

Oakstar’s morning started with waking up next to Dustcloud. An affectionate lick to her forehead as he stood slowly and stretched out his dark body in the darkness of the lichen covered tunnel. He wasn’t certain he’d ever get used to such privacy, but all he had to do was leave the den, and it was as though the world awakened.

His amber eyes adjusted to the early sunlight of sunrise as he padded down from the small hill of his den and into the middle of the clan’s camp. Gaze vigilant for things out of the ordinary. The sight of Beartooth preparing a dawn patrol certainly not unusual. Even less so when Beartooth abruptly left.

What was unusual was when he came back.

Oakstar stared at the she-cat that followed. The tortoiseshell and tabby she-cat who was so familiar it jolted him back to the morning he had first found her and her sibling. He padded forward, then paused as if the movement would disrupt this dream. But she didn’t fade.

He ran to her then. Wrapping a paw around her shoulder to hug her close. The familiar scent was distorted under strange and distantly familiar smells, but none of it mattered. He pulled back with joy evident in his gaze despite her serious demeanor.
"Dawnpaw! Welcome home!"

It seemed the mentor and apprentice pair stared silently at each other for an eternity. Dawnpaw didn't know what to say and no suggestions even crossed her mind, so she stayed mute until the tomcat made the first move. He'd approached with his claws unsheathed, and at his first move towards her she suspected he might strike her, but instead Beartooth showed a rare sign of affection that she rarely experienced from anyone. It was bizarre and also pleasant in way that ruffled her pelt and made her wonder what was wrong with her. Dawnpaw did not respond to her mentor's meow, only followed him into camp with a sense of familiarity that was an unexpected comfort to her deeply aching heart.

The sight of Marshstorm stopped her in her tracks, though. Naturally, StarClan saw it fit to bring her directly to the pair of toms who confounded her the most. She really wanted to hate them both, but though there was some venom in her thoughts at the sight of them, there was also a soothing relief that calmed the raging storm in her chest. At once there was an uncomfortable mix of adrenaline and affection as her surrogate father laid eyes on her and closed the gap without hesitation. Even his embrace was a welcome shock to the long-suffering apprentice. It was certainly the first time she'd ever been hugged. "I-I have news, Marshstorm," She meowed, trying to keep her swirling emotions in check. Dawnpaw wanted to stay professional and keep the feelings from her voice. It was a thin veil but hopefully it worked. She had a bargaining chip so that they wouldn't turn her away, but it seemed they didn't view her as a defector at all. Clearly they didn't know where she'd been the past few days. "I ran into a group called StagClan. I thought you and Leopardstar might be interested in knowing their movements... and the response of ShadowClan and their allies."

Oakstar continued to keep his paws wrapped around her for just a little longer. Reluctantly letting go as she spoke her next words, but staying very close to her just the same. His large rumbling purrs a clear indication that she was certainly welcome.
"We have heard of this ‘StagClan’ last gathering. I do hope Scorchstar is alright." He meowed, his voice level despite the joy in his chest as he padded towards the fresh kill pile.

He picked up a healthy sized vole and brought it over to Dawnpaw, placing it down at her paws.
"You will eat first. Regain some strength… and… it’s not Marshstorm anymore." His smile took on a tender expression "It’s Oakstar now, and I’ll not hear any report until you’ve eaten and checked in with Mosspaw or Pricklebush." He nodded firmly, gaze looking at Beartooth with clear approval.