Youth: Those Left Waiting [open]

Cloverpaw stood in the entrance of the medicine den, leaning a shoulder heavily against the wall as his light amber eyes watched the Clan meeting unfolding ahead. Puddlepaw, missing, out on her own; Goldengale, still ever so slightly favoring her leg, confined to camp; Graybriar, the missing cat's mentor, denied the ability to go; Barleytuft, the deputy, and the tunnelers, all chosen to go search. Within heartbeats of the decision they were gone, out of the gorse tunnel and into the mid-morning mist. The feeling that was left sitting over camp was rather dismal and melancholy, and the silver apprentice let out a low sigh as the weight of the patrols' departure settled on his shoulders.

Barleytuft's son righted himself and began to exit the medicine den, his kinked tail swaying easily behind him as he made his way toward his sister and mother. Cloverpaw liked the freedom of leaving the place where he'd spent the last two moons healing, and he wondered when it would be his turn to return to the apprentices den or, even better, the warriors den. Goldengale and Mistystripe were already there. In this moment, all that mattered was being able to go to his loved ones when they needed him. "'Ey mom, Golden," Cloverpaw greeted, noticing how clear his voice was in the tense quiet of the morning. He looked between them expectantly, then glanced around at his other Clanmates. Were they all feeling powerless too?

Turning her blue gaze towards the voice, Goldengale smiled slightly as she saw her brother. He was walking, and moving around on his own. The progress he had made was astonishing, and she nuzzled his cheek gently. "Hey, Clover. How are you feeling today? Has Aspenheart told you to when you can go back to training?..." She mewed, her voice getting softer as she was all too aware of how silent the moor was, the fog absorbing all the sound that came from the cats.

Her gaze reflected worry and concern, for Puddlepaw, Barleytuft, Grousefrost, Raventail... And all the others that had gone in search for her. When had their home become so dark and dangerous?

This had happened before. Again, someone was in trouble. Again, she was unable to help. And again... Barleytuft went and put himself in danger. Graybriar paced anxiously back and forth across camp, feeling as useless as a pile of wet moss in the rain. Just like after the flood when he'd gone to find the missing cats and bring them back, and she'd been nauseous and injured and pregnant and stuck in camp. Now she was none of those things... except for stuck in camp. Again. Always trapped, always useless. Who did Finchstar think he was, anyway? She was almost twice as old as he was. Senior warriors were supposed to have a say in Clan proceedings. All she wanted was for her family to be safe... but she also wanted Puddlepaw back. She also wanted her Clan safe. Letting out a noise of frustration, the tabby stopped in her pacing, sitting down in the middle of camp and drawing her tail tightly around her paws. How was she supposed to just sit here and wait? Wait, like she always did.... Graybriar had never claimed to be a patient cat, and this was stretching her already frayed nerves to the limit. Honestly, she was only a minute away from setting out across the territory to go find them herself. A tiny growl rumbled in her throat as she glanced across the moors to search for her mate's retreating form. What was wrong with her, that she was never allowed to help?

At least Goldengale greeted him with a smile, though it would take a blind cat to not see the discontent and worry in the depths of her shining blue eyes. She said hellp with a soft purr and a sisterly nuzzle, and then the siblings were standing in the clearing of camp together, feeling the tension and trying hard to ignore it. They were both failing to ignore it, and it was evident in their unusually hushed and subdued voices. Goldengale asked about how he was feeling and how his tail was coming along, and if he'd be getting back to training soon. She trailed off, and as Cloverpaw pondered the answer, he watched his mother pacing, rigid with agitation, across the camp. He heard her let out a soft growl. The silver tom who matched his mother so well glanced aside at his sister, a look of concern on his face. He cleared his throat a little and answered with as much bravery as he could, "Ah, no, Aspenheart hasn't told me yet, but I don't mind."

Cloverpaw set forward then, determined to catch his mother's attention and perhaps get her mind somewhere else. "Mom, Golden, do you think you guys could help me out?" he asked, looking to see if his sister was on his heels. He turned his pale gaze to his mother again and said, doing his best to play up his need, "I-I don't want to go back to training before I know a little bit more about my tail and how it works now - it's so different. It's all funny, and I'm not really sure how to use it. Could you help me do the exercises that Aspenheart and I have been working on?"

A soft growl pulled Goldengale's gaze from her brother to her mother, and she frowned slightly as she watched her pace. She had felt bad speaking out against Graybriar's opinions, but she had seen the foxes in action. They weren't normal, they were faster, seemingly more intelligent than usual. They didn't mindlessly attack, there was a flinty spark of cruel intention in their gazes when she had fought them with Raventail and Barleytuft. The look of agitation and anger that had come her way after she spoke had not gone unnoticed, and just thinking back to it made her stomach twist.

She had always been closer to her father, but she adored her mother with all of her being as well. That made the look she had received and the growls of aggravation sting that much more, yet as Cloverpaw padded away towards their mother she followed quietly, timidly, as if she was afraid that Graybriar would strike out at her. Once they reached her, her brother asked them both for help, stating his concerns regarding his tail and requesting help in the exercises for him created by Aspenheart. Goldengale readily nodded, motioning for another warrior to watch the entrance to camp carefully. "Of course! How do these exercises go?"

Back, forth. Back, forth. Aspenheart wobbled across the clearing. Back, forth. Back, forth. They'd be back any minute now. Back, forth. Goldengale's injury was gruesome to patch up. Back, forth. Puddlepaw was most likely unused to the openness of the moor. Back, forth. Was she watching her back? Back, forth.

He couldn't handle a death. They hadn't recovered Quailpaw's body. There was nothing to see. Frozenpaw, Frozenpaw. Her body, the blood. Foxes were like dogs. They were more cunning, less brute strength, but oh how their teeth tore flesh and bone. Hungry foxes. The stench of dog-breath. Aspenpaw stopped pacing. He shut his eyes. Herb lists ran through his head. He knew, he just knew. He couldn't explain why. There was a frigidness. They were trapped in an everlasting moment, the tension of a paradox. Knowing, not knowing. Hope, fear.

Would she come back alive?

Cloverpaw was grateful that Goldengale, at least, seemed willing and interested in finding a distraction. Graybriar remained distracted, but she stood close, and all the silver tom could do was hope that her only son's recovery would be enough to draw her mind back to safety while they waited. The young tom opened his mouth to speak, but as he began suddenly he spotted Aspenheart by the entrance, too. The look on the medicine cat's face made Cloverpaw feel ill, and some of his own resolve faltered. Come on, Aspen, we can't do that now, he thought, and before he knew it he had turned to move towards his friend, We need to keep you grounded so you don't go blank.

"H-Hey, Aspenheart?" Cloverpaw called, sweeping in a wide arc in such a way that the medicine cat's distressed, flickering eyes would have to see him. "Um, this is embarrassing, but I think I forgot my warmups for my tail already. I'm, uhhh, trying to show them to mom and Goldengale. Do you think you could help me?" he asked, staring meaningfully into the tom's drained face. We are all afraid - we don't need to suffer alone. He waited expectantly - nervously.

Another set of pacing pawsteps, and Goldengale turned to see Aspenheart. Leaving Cloverpaw next to their mother as he also called to the medicine cat, she padded over to press her head against his shoulder. "Hey now, deep breath. Everything will be okay. You're going to wear yourself out, and we need you. Things will be fine." She tried to reassure the older tom, attempting to ignore the growing anticipation like lightning preparing to crackle across the sky. It threatened to split through the air of the camp at any given moment, and although she might seem relax to the unknowing eye, the way her ears stood tall made it clear to those who knew her that she was straining to hear anything from the moors.

Who knew what they would meet out there?

In an attempt to ease the tension, she teased her brother lightly. "Forgot already? Stars, Cloverpaw, I have to be by your side all the time, don't I?"

Aspenheart dug his unsheathed claws into the ground, trying to let his prickling fur fall flat on his hackles. The comfort of company made him feel, if nothing else, a little bit better. And anyway, wasn't all this his job? He was the one with the magic calm-down-seeds. With a deep breath, he nodded at Goldengale and observed her recently recovered littermate.

"Alright, you have to check your ribs first," he started, watching the shallow sway of Cloverpaw's torso. "Take three deep breaths, with your whole body. Then breathe normally three times, yeah? And then, you cough a few times to really get things moving. If that's all good, you can move on to your tail." As best as he could with his own poor coordination, he began to demonstrate moving his own tail. He pointed it straight out behind him, arched it over his hips, curled it, and twisted it against his belly. "Make sure you hold it, and you move slowly, or it's all no good. Okay?"

Cloverpaw watched with friendly concern as his sister made her way towards the medicine cat, doing her best to ensure that the pair of them gently got his attention. The apprentice always admired how gentle Goldengale could be when it suited her to be; she really was a very kind cat, even if she could be kind of an authoritative badger sometimes. He liked how she always took charge, for it made knowing what to do much easier knowing he could always follow her. His sister's words were kind, and after a moment Aspenheart's fur slowly began to flatten again, much to Cloverpaw's relief. If something did happen - and he hated to even think that - then they needed Aspenheart to be at the top of his game, not blanking out on the grass.

At last the medicine cat was able to tear his gaze from the emptiness beyond camp, looking first to Goldengale's bright tabby pelt and then to Cloverpaw's moony one. His sister was the first to say something, teasing him for having to get a reminder of how to do his stretches. Cloverpaw's face twitsted with dry amusement and he lifted one paw to lazily swipe towards her ear, then set it back down and rolled his eyes, replying cheekily, "Oh, yes, I'd be lost without you, Goldengale."

The young silver tom looked brightly to Aspenheart, then, seeing that the tom's expression had cleared slightly, and that he had been momentarily brought back to the here and now. The medicine cat gave Cloverpaw instruction, and each item was perfectly echoed in the apprentice's head as Aspenheart said it. Three deep breaths. Three normal breaths. Cough. Slowly, purposefully tail out, up, around, in.

He hadn't forgotten. He didn't need a reminder.

His Clanmates needed a distraction.

Cloverpaw sighed slightly and rolled his eyes, feigning some embarrassment at the things his sister would have to see his do - easy things that were like nothing to some, but so difficult for him now. He replied to Aspenheart, "Ohhh. Oh, right, the breathing. I couldn't remember where to start. I always forget that. Thanks!" Admittedly, it was a bit humbling to have to take such slow, purposeful movements, but Goldengale loved him, and so did Graybriar. Cloverpaw looked to his mom and then his sister as he nodded once and began his exercises.

Once his breaths and coughs were done, Cloverpaw began to work with his tail. The hardest part was keeping his face straight ahead. In order to best help his exercises, he needed to keep his spine elongated and aligned. "The worst part about this is I can't even see if my tail is stretching the way it's supposed to," he complained mildly to Goldengale; behind him, his tail did the best it could, but there was certainly no straightening the major bends. "How's it lookin' back there? Is my tail normal yet?" It never would be; he was teasing, and he hoped they realized it. He'd already come to terms with the odd shape his tail now took.

Graybriar took a deep breath and tried to control herself- then, like a flash, her kits were there. Bless their hearts. Cloverpaw, looking better every day, asking for help with his exercises... Goldengale, ever encouraging, joking lightly with him as well. She left momentarily to get Aspenheart, who seemed to be having one of his attacks again, but that faded out of her consciousness as she looked at her son. Her son. His crooked, mutilated tail, his clawed-up hindquarters- she could still remember them slashed open, covered in fresh blood. The panic she'd felt had overwhelmed her senses. But now, he was looking almost like himself again. Eyes bright, eager even. Warmth filled her heart, and her eyes stared into his as she felt her formerly aggravated pelt slowly lie flat. He was recovering. He was getting better. Thank StarClan. Watching him patiently do the slow exercises that Aspenheart gave him reminded her forcibly of when her back leg had been mauled, and she'd had to slowly recover. But he was doing so well. He wasn't moping around- he was cheerful, even focused on making others happy. What right did she have to sulk?

If his outer wounds could heal, then.... Why not her inner ones?

Graybriar smiled slightly, seeing her son and daughter banter with each other. It lifted her heart a little. "You're as handsome as ever, Cloverpaw," she purred with a slight laugh at his evident question. "Your tail just has almost as much personality as you do!"

Goldengale licked Aspenheart's shoulder as he nodded to her, flicking her tail to his flank. Alright, hopefully now everyone was occupied with something other than the impending doom that seemed imminent. Not bothering to duck Cloverpaw's light swat towards her ears, she listened carefully to Aspenheart as he spoke and watched as he demonstrated the exercises, Goldengale noted them in her memory. She had a sneaking suspicion that Cloverpaw hadn't forgotten his exercises, even if he was a goofball he was still responsible and smart. He was probably using it as a distraction, but just in case she was going to make sure she knew enough to help should he ever need it.

She watched as Cloverpaw began the exercises, saying something about forgetting the breaths. What a rabbit-brain she thought to herself with amusement, while her brother ran through the exercises carefully. He was doing so much better.... And she was grateful for that. Nudging Aspenheart with her shoulder she mewed quietly. "Thank you. Who knows how he might have been if you weren't here. Truly, thank you."

Cloverpaw's voice sounded as he complained mildly in her direction, and she smiled lightly. "Your tail is as normal as you are, dear brother!" She teased, eyes lighting up with a weird combination of sorrow and amusement at the situation. Hoping that her brother would find the amusement in it, a purr sounded in her chest at Graybriar's words. It seemed their mom was thinking the same thing, and at least she was smiling and seemed a bit happier.

His mother and sister had watched with quiet interest each, Graybriar's eyes clouded with thought while Goldengale's were both dubious and proud. Clearly his sister saw his game; she still played along, though, and so his plan was a success. Cloverpaw's playful question was answered first by Goldengale, always fiery and ready to poke fun if the opportunity presented itself. As he'd left the opening wide, the apprentice only let out a half-hearted growl through his grin. He reached out to playfully swat at her, but then Graybriar spoke. Her words, too, were playful, but the love they held was apparent. Cloverpaw turned his head to her and smiled, his eyes softening at her kind words.

He sat, loosely curling his tail around himself, and he asked Aspenheart, "So, how long am I gonna have to do all that again?" Well, that was a genuine question. If he'd been told, he'd forgotten; if he hadn't been told, he wanted the answer. He secretly suspected the answer would be "forever". It wasn't the worst, but...

Growling light-heartedly back to him, raising a paw to meet his swipe with her own, Goldengale flashed her brother a grin. Turning with him as their mother spoke, she glanced to Cloverpaw out of the corner of her eyes, feeling a bit relieved that their mother had stopped her pacing and was smiling, even if it was only a slight one. Things would be okay. They had to be, of that she was sure. A full throb of the aching pain in her leg tried to argue otherwise as she shifted her weight, but she bit her tongue as Cloverpaw asked his question.

She looked to Aspenheart as well, wondering for herself too. How long would her brother do these exercises? Would he get to come back to training soon? Would she ever get to hunt or practice battle training with him again? The questions sat bitter on her tongue, unasked and unanswered.