Knowing One's Elders [Closed]

Haypaw sat nervously at the entrance of the camp, eyeing her Clanmates as they padded to and from the different sides of the camp. Whenever one would draw close, she would jolt forward - a question on her tongue but her nerves always got the better of her and she would shy away. She...Knew she wasn't suppose to be out of the camp by herself - she didn't want to be out of the camp by herself. But...She had gotten the sweet taste of freedom when she had gone out with Dappleshine, gotten the start of her training in. She wasn't comfortable yet but she wanted to explore, get a better feel for the territory but...Things had been hard for Dappleshine recently. She didn't know the details but she wasn't even sure a blind cat could miss how...Sad Dappleshine was. She didn't want to pry, to bother Dappleshine into taking her out but... She huffed, ears slicking back as she slumped forward.

She just wanted another chance to get out of the camp, was that to much to ask for?

For what felt like the hundredth time today, Ravenstar caught sight of a straw-colored pelt near the gorse tunnel leading out of WindClan’s camp. Haypaw had been there when he’d ducked into the medicine den to visit Morningdove; she’d been there when he’d left; she’d been there when he’d taken a grouse from the fresh-kill pile, and when he’d come back from tucking the bones into the leader’s den so he’d remember to bring them to Aspenheart later. Throughout it all, the look on her face hadn’t changed much. Though an air of nervousness hung around her, she seemed almost…impatient.

He’d heard a bit about her from Dappleshine, but Ravenstar wasn’t sure if she’d gotten used to her new place in the Clan, or how she’d feel about said Clan’s leader approaching her. Maybe he’d put her on edge. Or, he told himself, maybe it won’t matter at all. If Finchstar could mingle with his Clanmates without spending every moment of it wondering what they thought of him, Ravenstar could do the same. Keeping his distance wouldn't do them—or himself—any good. Pulling up a smile, the short tom padded over and sat. Not too close, he hoped. ”Haypaw,” he meowed. ”You’ve been here a while. Waiting for someone?”

The straw coloured cat was by the camp entrance again. His head tilted in thought while he pieces together the situation. The young cat, and they were young. He had no question about that. Sat there, almost… waiting? His ears twitched in the familiar all encompassing silence. He could sit in camp… or he could go with them. His blue eyes looked up at the clear skies above them.

It was a peaceful day. The clouds drifted by idly while the warmth of greenleaf seeped into his pelt. He stood, his silver and white body stretched from his nest. Another day of being useless didn’t suit him. He could at least try to hunt. As his paws touched the familiar trodden grass of camp, he watched Ravenstar pad over to the smaller cat. His brow furrowed.

‘Wheatpaw’ he decided with a firm nod towards himself. He’d call the cat ‘Wheatpaw’. He padded towards the pair. His tail flicked over Ravenstar’s
back briefly to make sure the tom knew he was there. That he wanted to come with them.

Haypaw's head turned as paws approached, hope flickering in her chest as she opened her maw - perhaps finally finding the courage to ask whoever it was if they would go out with her...But that energy disappeared the heartbeat she realized it was Ravenstar. She...Didn't know the leader all that well - he seemed nice enough and even now wore a calming smile as he asked if she was waiting for somebody. She sat there, frozen in place for a few moments before she snapped out of it."Oh! I...Um...Not...Really?" she managed weakly, sinking down slightly as she gave the leader a sheepish look, pausing for a moment as she spotted another figure approach. Grousefrost.

Another cat she didn't know all that well - she knew that he was deaf and practically mute - like he could talk but he had just gone silent since he had lost his hearing - how, she didn't know. She didn't like pressing questions and the only cat she would want to hear it from was Grousefrost and...Well, that was out of the question. She gave him a soft, uncertain smile before she glanced back at the patiently waiting Ravenstar.

"I...Kinda want to go out and see the territory, get a little better at hunting...But I know I'm not suppose to go out alone. I-I would ask Dappleshine but...I don't want to bother her cause its clear something has been making some things a little...Hard for her. No-Not that I don't think she is doing a bad job as my mentor or anything! I just...Don't want to force her to take me out if she isn't feeling up for it, you know?" she added, before she curled her tail around her paws. She really wished she knew what had been weighing Dappleshine down but...It wasn't really her business to know. She was just an apprentice after all, what help could she be for whatever was making the warrior so...Sad? She suppose that Ravenstar would maybe be able to answer the question on what was bothering Dappleshine, he was her mate after all but it still felt...Wrong to pry. It wasn't her concern at the moment.

"...So I guess I was just waiting for somebody to maybe...I guess offer to take me out? I-I didn't want to impose and bother anybody so I've just been...Waiting, I guess. ...I-I'm not sure what I was planning to gain out of just quietly waiting thought. Not like anybody can read my mind," she finally admitted with a sigh. She shouldn't have been wasting her time like this - she was certain if she had asked around, she could have found business in the camp she could have tended to but...Right now, the moor itself was calling to her.

As he’d feared, it did matter. Haypaw went still, and Ravenstar suppressed a wince at the look on her face. Thankfully, she broke herself out of her shock on her own and bounced back enough to answer. “Not really” could’ve meant just about anything. Before he could ask her to elaborate, mostly for the sake of making conversation, her gaze shifted from his face to something behind him. A barely-there pressure too deliberate to be wind brushed across his back. The dark tom turned, and found the last face he could’ve expected. ”Grousefrost, hey,” he said mildly, blinking; as little as they’d interacted since Grousefrost had woken up, Ravenstar had never quite broken the habit of talking to him.

As Haypaw explained what she was waiting for and why, Ravenstar felt his smile slip. For a time, most of WindClan had known. Either they’d witnessed his joyous announcements and the pair of vigils that had come not long after, or they’d been there when the news of Dacedream’s death had hit home. Somehow, those days had passed. As soon as the memories reared their heads, Ravenstar decided it wasn’t his place to share them, especially not with Dappleshine’s apprentice. He averted his eyes when Haypaw started to backpedal. ”Don’t worry, I know what you mean.” Before the heat had set in, he’d tossed around plans designed to keep the two of them far from camp, Fourtrees, and the Gorge. He’d never mentioned them to Dappleshine. Losing Sedgekit and Smudgekit had left similar scars on them both, but while he’d met Dacedream and had heard more than enough stories to understand why Dappleshine loved her, he’d had no paw in raising her. His mate's grief ran too deep for him to ease.

Haypaw had started speaking again. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he looked back at her in time to hear her ask—without asking—for someone to take her out on the moor. Ravenstar’s ears rose, and he tilted his head as if mulling it over. In his experience, a walk through the heather often did more to set a cat at ease than sharing tongues in a crowded, stuffy camp. As for Grousefrost…Grousefrost had approached them. Approached him. His eyes lingered on the silver-and-white tom for a long moment, confusion in their depths. Then he tapped his own tail against Grousefrost’s side, a silent approval, and turned back to Haypaw with his smile back in its place. It’d be good to patrol with Grousefrost again. Maybe this time wouldn’t end in them drying their fur on the Gorge’s shores. ”Well, it did work, sort of,” he said brightly. ”We could take you out of camp. It’s not too warm yet, so there’ll be plenty of prey—and to be honest, I’m always looking for a reason to go for a run. It’s not a bother,” he added, ”I promise.”