Lost in the woods (open for 3)

Brown covered white tipped paws lay next to the river. A large, dark tabby frame sat in silence in the only stretch of river that Thunderclan owned. The small slip near the crossing stones. Perhaps once, he’d have gone to Sunningrocks. Sat there, waited. As always, Torrentstar would appear, and they would spar, and talk. Both leaders, equals… who led their clans and had difficulties from it. Yet now… there was no Torrentstar. He wanted to visit the plains of WindClan… but there was no Finchstar either, and he couldn’t just intrude on a clan. It wasn’t like sunningrocks, which were practically neutral.

It brought to mind a painful fact. Despite coming home… he was alone. Dustcloud has been so quiet, and he didn’t blame her. When neither of them made the journey to talk to the bright stars… it had been a realization. A painful one, that still felt like a wasp in his chest. Starclan, hadn’t caused all this.

It was his fault.

He let his clan slip too far. He was too calm, too casual about everything they did. Even when it involved crossing the border, he had always figured the stars hadn’t minded if it wasn’t for an unfair advantage. They did mind. They punished him in the worst way possible. They took his own daughter away. That she had been Lichenmask’s biological kit didn’t matter. He had raised her. Protected her, sheltered her. Made her into a warrior he was so incredibly proud of… and he lost it.

Tear drops fell onto the river’s rolling water below. He lost her. He lost Stormpaw too, and Starclan he hoped Dustcloud would forgive him for that. His other adopted daughter was out there alone. Probably not hungry, but if she travelled to the wrong places… rats, dogs… rogues. It all made his pelt prickle to remember. He wanted to go after her. The ache in his hips when he rose reminded him of why he didn’t. His eyes caught a flash of a muzzle so pale. Flecks of grey lined what was once a truly dark pelt. He was old… and his clan was young.

"You’re wrong Leopardstar… Thunderclan doesn’t need an old battered cat like me leading." He meowed softly, voice almost lost to the current. "I wish you were here brother. If I tighten the code…my clan might hate me." his head lifted towards an opening in the trees. Dull sunset hues dark with the coming of night lingered in the distance. "Badgerstar might have been right." his head lowered to the grass of the river bank. The tears fell freer now behind choked back sobs. "I just don’t know what to do… I’m lost Starclan… I’m lost..."

Willowheart heard sobs coming from the small body of water. Curious and a little worried, she padded towards the sound, before spotting Oakstar sitting near the small stream. Stopping uncomfortably near a tree, Willowheart called out softly towards her leader. “Um...Oakstar? Are you—okay?” She sat down near the tree, shifting her forepaws around. The ThunderClan leader seemed weary...broken...tired. Willowheart couldn’t blame him. His Clan was a mess...including her. She was a mess. Everything was a mess after the Gathering. Injured cats, dead cats, who knows what else?

Nettlefire had been walking, getting a bearing on her own thoughts and feelings. As she drifted through the territory, she heard a sound that was unmistakably that of someone sobbing. Concern flashed through her as she wondered if someone had gotten injured, and she immediately altered her course to head towards the noise. To her surprise, what she found was her father, sitting by the riverbank, crying. She spotted Willowheart there, as well, and heard her call out quietly to the leader.

She felt that sense of paralysis creep into her limbs, the sensation that always came to her when she was confronted with things like grief, sadness, and weakness. But she pushed through the uneasiness of not knowing how to respond, as she promised herself she would start doing. She had come out here to clear her head and work through her own emotions; but she would never be able to do that if she ignored everyone else’s-- especially her family’s.

“Hi, Dad,” she said softly, approaching him. She didn’t ask if he was alright-- she was fairly confident she already knew the answer. She simply sat down near him. If he wanted to talk, he would. She wasn’t sure she’d know what to say in response, but at the very least she would listen.

For several long moments, the river was all he saw behind tears that dropped into the water. He envied them. They could float away from their problematic host. The bearer of the betrayals and hate that ravaged his clan. His internal woes were stemmed by voices. They cut through his agony with ease.

He lifted tired eyes towards the white she-cat. She was one of the ones that had spoken rashly towards her own clanmate… but she had also been the first to apologise. To realise her wrong and understand that there was more than just angry feelings to deal with. He couldn’t bring himself up to smile this time. The sound of his daughter broke the silence. His silver tabby daughter, who sometimes looked so much like her mother.

Dustcloud… ever since Dawngaze… they had been distant from each other. It hurt. Every moment alone left an ache in his chest he wasn’t certain would ever heal while his daughter approached the two of them.
"...I’m sorry." He rasped softly, through a throat sore but constricted by tears still. "Don’t… don’t mind me… I’m just..." tired. His mind supplied desperately. "How is patrol going…?" he forced out instead. Maybe if he ignored his own exhaustion, it would go away.

Willowheart shifted again, spotting Nettlefire too. Giving the deputy a “is he okay” look, she turned back towards Oakstar. “I...was doing a solo hunt. Uh, prey is...good. I guess.” At least that’s one thing our leader doesn’t need to worry about. There’s plenty of prey. The old tom seemed so...tired. Maybe he just needed rest? Half of Willowheart wanted to nudge her leader up and slowly drag him towards his den, but she knew that she would get in big trouble if she did. Willowheart figured that the best person to talk to Oakstar would be his own daughter. Almost a moon had passed since her mentor’s death...but Oakstar, like herself, probably wouldn’t forgive himself for Dawngaze’s death.