There's Something You Should Know (closed)

Strom awoke to grey light filtering through the entrance of the den. Though maybe "awoke" wasn't really the word to use, in this case, since he hadn't exactly been sleeping. Slowly, he blinked sandy eyes, blankly watching as the light gradually grew slightly brighter. Memories of half-dreams that had left an unpleasant feeling like oily mud in his mind swirled in his head, warning against falling back into slumber.

With a slight groan, he sat up, shaking his head to clear it of the fluff it felt like some cat had stuffed it with in the night, memories of the previous night's gathering rearing their ugly heads again. It feels like a bad dream. He got to his paws, being careful not to disturb any of the others as he wandered out into the clearing, glancing above at the lattice-work of bare branches breaking the sky into a thousand pieces. I wish it was.

And that feeling of StarClan watching him with condemning eyes didn't leave as he gazed up at Silverpelt, the barest fingers of grey creeping across the sky starting to touch it. With another shake of his head, he turned his eyes back down. He wouldn't be able to sleep. Not with everything going through his mind. And the dawn patrol wasn't up yet, so that wasn't an option.

His eyes turned to Oakstar's den. There was something he could do, something he probably should have done as soon as he came into the Clan - something he should have clarified. But he hadn't wanted to make it known at the time. He'd wanted a fresh start, one untainted by his past. Now, however.... That isn't an option anymore.

The leader he'd pledged allegiance to deserved to know. Just as Batbite had.

Taking a careful breath, he padded across the clearing, early-morning frost giving beneath his paws, and stood at the entrance to the tunnel under the rock. Belatedly, as he hesitated at the screen of leaves, he realized the other was probably sleeping - something he hadn't paused to consider in his foggy, unrested state. And if he was, it wouldn't be the best idea to spread the curse of his insomnia.... Especially to the leader of the Clan.

So he settled for a compromise. "Oakstar?" He murmured, just loud enough that the other tom would hear if he was awake. If the other didn't reply, he'd simply walk off - maybe do some hunting, and hope to clear his mind.

A large dark brown tom laid in silence in his den. The smell of snake and fear had long since subsided, though he still wondered sometimes if another had slipped in. It was a rational fear, as his tail twitched over his muzzle. His eyes shut in the darkness, as he attempted to sleep. Fighting the claws of dawn with those of exhaustion and worry… but a voice called. His dark ears twitched, eyes opened, and lost the battle. He wouldn’t sleep now.

He stood, then padded calmly to the entrance of the den. Concern obvious in his expression as he noticed it was Strom who waited for him. The red tabby looked… nervous?
"Is something wrong Strom?" He asked, his gaze turned from the tom before him towards the clan. He didn’t see any cats panicking. No cat was racing around frantically in the melting snow. He looked back at Strom, then gestured towards the depths of the den.

Behind the curtain of moss, he hoped that the tom could feel like he could speak freely. Oakstar felt a pang of sympathy. Perhaps he didn’t like clan life, and wanted to go back? He thought about the possible things it could be. He recalled the day Batbite had brought him in… Dacedream’s greeting… wait… had she - he paused in thought, then looked at Strom closely.
"You may speak freely in here." He offered, a smile on his muzzle. Perhaps the tom just wanted to be a warrior now. He had been with the clan for awhile.

The leader was awake. Relief mixed with trepidation ran under his pelt like a current, sudden doubt rearing its ugly head as a moment of clarity broke through the determined fog of sleeplessness. Maybe this isn't such a great idea. At least the decision was taken out of his paws as the leader welcomed him inside the den. He couldn't turn back now. "Nothing's... wrong. I just need to speak with you."

He followed the other deeper in as he welcomed him inside and settled into a sitting position on the sandy floor, his eyes briefly flicking to the leader's nest, the memory of a snake there flitting through his mind. Oakstar turned to him, a shrewd look in his eye as his calm voice broke through the side-tracking thoughts.

Turning his eyes back to the tom, Strom wrapped his tail around his paws. "I guess I'd better start at the beginning, then." He took in a breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm not exactly everything I claimed to be, when Batbite brought me here," He admitted with a twisted smile, even as his pulse started up a faint rhythm in his ears. Secrets. I hate them, but I collect them like flies on eel-food. "I guess you could say I know a little bit more about Clan life than most rogues, even if I am half one. I... grew up in a Clan. RiverClan. My mother was one of its warriors, and my father was a loner."

He let out a slightly hissing breath between his teeth, his eyes slipping away briefly from the leader's. "My reasons for leaving were my own. I wasn't exiled. But... with StarClan doing... whatever they are... I don't think that matters much anymore. I thought you should know."

As Ström confessed his origins, Oakstar waited patiently. His thoughts and suspicions were slowly confirmed. A former Riverclan cat, and Dacedream herself was ex-Riverclan. Brought in by circumstances that were beyond her control. When the tom looked away, Oakstar allowed himself a small sigh.

All the clans viewed each other differently. It was almost universal that they distrusted rogues, not without reason. Somehow, a riverclan she-cat has found love with one… and he couldn’t bring himself to fault Strom. If he were in his paws… well, when he was a kit he’d run away from camp to meet his own father, so there was no denying his sympathy as he padded forward and gave him a nudge.

"Stand tall." Oakstar meowed calmly. His expression kind and understanding. "You came here as a rogue, as Batbite’s mate. If you committed no crime except to leave, I will not hold your heritage against you." Oakstar explained calmly. "I have never been one to discourage adventure, unless you are a kit." he added with a chuckle. "I can understand why you wouldn’t want to return to RiverClan. Torrentstar was… terrifying to those who left I’m sure… but, your decision to make Thunderclan your home must be final. So, Strom." He stepped back. His expression firmed into a more serious one as he felt a twinge or remorse for Torrentstar, and the situation that might not have occurred had the other been less imposing to his own.

"Are you Strom of Thunderclan? A rogue, Or Mink, or RiverClan?"

Strom heard the leader's pawsteps before he felt the  nudge on his shoulder, Oakstar's calm, amber eyes fixing on him as his rumbling voice filled the den. "Stand tall."

Almost unconsciously, Strom found himself straightening at the dark tabby's reassuring words, the uncertainty in his chest easing slightly, and he let a faint smile cross his maw as the other chuckled. His words a moment later caused it to fade, the memory of a tom with piercing, stern eyes that narrowed in judgement at those he deemed code-breakers, or unloyal, coming to mind. His wrath was terrifying. But.... Clear green disappeared for a moment in a single blink, a quiet breath coming from his maw. No worse than everything else.

He could tell, before Oakstar asked, what the other's question would be - what he was leading up to. It was what Strom had come here for, after all.

His tail shifted in the sandy earth as his eyes wandered to the side of the den, his paws solid and unmoving. Barely the slightest of breezes came down here, yet Strom could feel a faint stirring on his whiskers as the floating, distant sound of a breeze winding through the camp outside cautiously dared to venture down into the dimness. The cold light outside was stronger, tinged blue with the lightening sky. Soon, the others in the camp would come out of their dens, waking to spend another day with friends, relatives, mates. Just like they had in RiverClan, just like they did in all the Clans, no matter where a cat stood.

The question wasn't did he want to join them, but could he? Could he anchor himself here, so deeply root himself that he wouldn't leave?

A blink and he stirred slightly, his eyes watching the fingers of light creeping across the floor with their agonizing slowness. "My mother named me Mink, my father named me Strom. I never got to hear what my warrior name would be, but... I guess it would have been a good one." The faint chill in the morning touched at his nose as another faint wisp of air wandered below the rock above, making it twitch slightly. "My whole life, I've been split. I tried to prove my loyalty to RiverClan, I tried to be the best apprentice I could be. But then..." He let a faint hissing sigh come from his maw, finally turning his head to meet Oakstar's patient eyes. "Everything fell apart. You can't prove your loyalty to cats who don't know you. When everyone is gone...."

He straightened his spine, the softness of his former tone fading slightly. "Oakstar, even if I tell you I'll be a loyal ThunderClan cat - one of your warriors - that doesn't change the fact that I've had my trust broken, and I've... broken trust, and even if I'd like you to, you can't trust me. I need you to understand."

He took a deep breath, gently pushing away the alarmed voice in the back of his head that told him to shut up and say yes - to leave all of this and bury his head back in the sand - and closed his eyes. "I left RiverClan because it held nothing for me anymore. Everyone I loved, everyone I cared about... were gone. I couldn't handle it, and so I ran from it."

Moons of heartache and grief - that dark time after he came back from the mountains - stole back into his memories, and he opened them to look the ThunderClan leader in the eye. "I don't know if that won't happen here. Maybe I could die first, but if I don't...." He let the thought trail off. "I love Batbite, and I never intend to leave her, but if something happened to her, I wouldn't be able to handle it, and what happened there would happen here. Even you could die."

A bitter snort came free of his nose, and he shook his head slightly, the slightly disjointed thoughts in his tired brain refusing to still. "Stars, my grandfather had nine lives, and that didn't stop him from dying. My father - Starlord - went through every Clan, causing chaos wherever he went, and a dog snapped his neck in two heartbeats. Littlestream... died from a wound in her leg. My brother left one day and never came back. My sister was killed by a rogue. Even my mentor, a tom tougher than any other cat I've ever met, went out of camp and died without even leaving behind a body to mourn."

Sudden weariness dragged at his bones, and he hunched slightly in on himself, the tiredness and lack of sleep from the night before stealing up on him without warning. All he wanted was something to believe in. But how would he when no one could believe him? He was the spawn of a line of broken trust, a spiral that never ended. Maybe even Batbite couldn't trust him. Who knows, he might suddenly find he truly was the son of Starlord, and run off with some other she-cat without a second thought. Pain clawed at his heart at the thought, but he had to face the possibility. Yet again he would have to come face-to-face with who he was, and decide who he wanted to be.

Looking back up at Oakstar, he flicked the tip of his tail, a battered smile twitching at the corner of his maw. "Strom, Mink, a rogue, RiverClan.... Maybe I'm all of them. Maybe I'm none. Sometimes, I hardly know myself."

"But if... I wanted to be anyone," He murmured, half to himself, "I think it would be loyal."

Oakstar listened in silence as Strom spoke. The tom’s words hit close to home. The only large difference between them was that he hadn’t been there when his family fell apart. When things descended and split. The answer gave him pause for a long moment.

"What is it to be loyal?" He murmured. Loyalty meant being with the clan, working with them, fighting with and for them. Defending and protecting. Loyal meant to never leave, to always be there when you were needed. Strom has failed in at least one of those, but his heart was in the right place. Batbite was a strong she-cat. Clever and brave.

"I would wish for your answer to have been Strom of Thunderclan." He meowed, his lips in a casual smile as he chuckled. "However, I value your honesty. Not many cats have the bravery to face their mistakes, and even fewer to confess them." He stood and stretched his limbs as he padded past Strom to the den entrance. "In these times, it is that very honesty that will hold clans together. Be true and good to Thunderclan, and to Batbite." he smiled as he saw Dustcloud outside of the den. "You’ll be a good warrior Strom. When you’re ready." with that, he padded out of the den. Into the winter sun.