Storm Turns Inside Me (closed, solo)

The ground in the shade brushed coolly beneath his paws, barely a whisper from his steps stirring the quiet in the air as they automatically fell into the practiced pattern, seeking and finding the spots that would make no sound. A leaf brushed past his head, making an ear twitch as it lightly tickled, the buzzing of insects in the twilight still loud in the light left. Every exhale seemed to beat to the stilling heart of the forest, the scent of it in his nostrils, winding in the barest breath of a breeze through his whiskers.

I should be happy.

Yes, there was a hint somewhere in there, a little spark of excitement, of pride. His paws picked between the gnarled roots of an oak tree, moss softening underneath his pads. But it seemed to be swallowed by a pit, a churning storm running swift and dark through his veins, buzzing nervousness threading underneath.

Why do I feel like this?

He brushed under a fern, leaving the stem barely trembling, his eyes roaming over the terrain around him but not really... noticing anything. Had he come out here to hunt? No, not really. Maybe he'd catch something later just so his Clanmates wouldn't wonder why their new deputy had wandered off - what with Rainstrike on the loose and all, plus that strange loner Lirista had run into. A faint twitch of his lip at the thought, brief darkness stirring in his eyes, both Jaydream and Dace's bodies flashing in his mind. His tail flicked behind him, claws digging briefly into moss-encrusted wood. But it was only a brief distraction. His eyes wandered up to the canopy, catching a flash of wings, a twitter carrying to his ears as a bird twisted across a clear space in the leaves above, purple-blue sky behind - something he could never reach, fading away before his eyes.

A whisper of a familiar sound caught his ear, a comforting caress, bringing memories of laughing blue eyes and teasing voices. Sunlit days and the sparkle of the sun, cool against his skin. He twisted, startled, staring at the undergrowth, straining to catch it again. I didn't come out this way....

Did I?

And yet, there it was, carried on the breeze as it lifted, gently running over his fur. Almost against his will, his paws moved, ducking beneath a bush between two soaring trees, the forest beyond thinning - just slightly - as it opened up to head down a gentle slope. Beyond.... A glitter between trunks, over swaying tall grass-weeds, some yellow-brown. I thought the river was gone.

Something lit in his chest, and he scrambled down the slope, a smile slowly growing over his face as he broke through on the bank, his sides moving lightly with quickened breaths. Slowly, he padded to the edge of the water running over the mud-brown and dark green algea clad rocks, the smile turning to a grin as the twilight flashed in its waters. It was back. He reached a paw forwards, white meeting in translucent cool, the current tugging briefly at his fur. The sound of reeds whispered gently into his ears from across it, the scent of the water deep in his nostrils, the hint of wet earthy marshes. A quiet smile. He let the water play over his paw, closing his eyes for a moment, the echoes of joyous voices, high voices, ringing in his ears. Laughter. The water cool against his body.

Blood.

A cold chill ran down his spine.

Blood against the snow - blood on the cold, frozen ground. Cold, clutching blackness flooding into eyes and nose and mouth.

He drew his paw back from the water, opening his eyes, feeling the cold in his suddenly thudding heart. Glancing up, he felt himself tense. What am I doing here? This was too close to RiverClan's borders, in the neutral zone between, which RiverClan had always semi-claimed, simply because it was in the water - their hunting grounds. Quickly, yet with an odd reluctance, he turned and padded back to the bank, ears alert for any angry cries, nose and tongue testing the air for any scent of a cat nearby. Luckily, there wasn't. Still, he moved back to sit on the edge of the border, curling his tail around his paws, warily half-turned to the glittering trickle of the recovering river, its song cold and warm as it chuckled.

His eyes wandered up to the wisps of cloud stained dull red and orange hanging above the horizon, the breeze whispering from beyond the line of silver before him into his ears. He listened, still as the rocks on which he sat, paws molding to the cooling stones and keeping them warm.

He wasn't prepared to hear a voice. Or rather, the memory of one.

..."I don't need the sight of a StarClan ancestor to see you're torn over your loyalties...."

His head snapped up, a frown crinkling between his eyes as the wisp of memory drifted past. It was familiar.... And then it hit him like the cold shock of water underneath the ice. Mottledspark? My moonstone. Breath hitched in his throat, his ears stiffening as the words flowed back, a memory he hadn't dwelt on for what felt like a long long time, a memory furthest from his mind when he came out here, wandering, restless.

"You're livin' with a paw in two worlds, Minkpaw.

Discomfort made his paws shift under him, his muscles stiff, his jaw set. Two worlds. I'm not torn anymore. I made my choice, I chose ThunderClan.

Did you?

His heart thudded in his chest, steady and resistant, yet... He knew. Knew it in the way the water trickling over the stones caught his eye, the whisper of the reeds sang in his ears. The blood of the river ran in his veins, no matter how many times it had slashed his heart open. He closed his eyes, feeling the dreading doubt consume him again, the edge in the pit of his stomach twisting. Am I still loyal to them? How can I be deputy of this Clan, if I still have a paw in my old one?

"...Not only is it dangerous for the Clan, but it's dangerous for you and everyone involved with you."

He swallowed, glancing down at his paws, eerily white in the fading light of the sunset and almost literally split over the border. Suddenly it felt cold and lonely out here - desolate. I'm loyal to Bat, I'm loyal to my kits; my Clanmates.

But am I loyal to ThunderClan?

The thought rang through his head, refusing to let go, and he let his claws slide out, gripping the stones beneath them, his head turning up again, eyes reflecting the dull, fading edges of red on the horizon. Mottledspark had asked him that question about RiverClan, once.
And he'd turned his back on them. Guilt rose like a snake from his gut to his throat, threatening to strangle him. Why is this coming up now? Why am I only thinking about this now, of all times?

He knew the answer even as he asked. It was because of this time, it was because he was suddenly thrust into this role. I am deputy. I am part of the leadership of my Clan. And I... can't avoid this question anymore. Oh, he'd sidestepped it when Oakstar asked him, said all the right words at his ceremony, and meant them, in a way. But... that had been to Bat, to the cats of the Clan. The Clan is the cats in it. That was what he'd thought, that was the rock-solid conviction that had let him say the words with unwavering genuineness.

Didn't seem so solid now.

Yes, he was loyal to his Clanmates through and through - whatever came, he would do his best to protect and help them, to stand by Nettlestar's side, his claws dug deep into the earth. The thought should have put his mind at ease, and let him peacefully leave this place for camp, but something still niggled at him. Why do I feel like this about RiverClan? No one I knew - loved - is alive there anymore. But the memory, the kinship... it still lingered. He knew how they thought - knew their mannerisms, knew the territory - felt it in every beat of his heart. Even if he didn't know the cat, he could guarantee they had something in common, something that brought them together, whether they were friends or not. Here... in ThunderClan.... He was a stranger. The trees didn't call to him the way the sighing of the reeds did, the pattern of the leaves dappling the ground - beautiful as they were - didn't make his eyes light up like the sparkle of the river. He had no memories of kit-days playing among the twisted roots - his were of splashing in the river, dabbling in puddles, and trying to slap fish out of the little streams around camp. Of bits of shell and colourful feathers woven into dens, of the distant murmur lulling him gently to sleep, safe against his mother's belly or his siblings' pelts.

Pain dwelled in the depths of his eyes as they flicked over the territory across the river, its borders forever closed to him, just like those of the other Clans, and the place he'd discovered his love with Batbite. Locked away.... Locked away from those memories, not that he could ever go back, anyway. There was too much pain back there - it was why he'd left. And yet... and yet. A formless cry rose in his heart, never going beyond his lips but staying like a stone in his chest, sharp and rasping. What it was for... days gone by, a kithood lost, something he could never have again... he didn't know. Maybe he didn't want to.

Words whispered through his mind again.

"It's impossible to know the right path 'til you've chosen one. Don't freeze in the moment ya need yourself. Take a step - a leap a' faith, if ya have to. Just... don't stop movin', Minkpaw."

A shuddering breath drew into his maw, and he looked away from the darkening sky, his head turning back to the darkened, looming forests of ThunderClan, the scent of its depths drifting out to meet him as he got to his paws, the white tip of his tail disappearing into the foliage with barely a rustle. Maybe there were no answers. Maybe there was nothing he could do, or some piece of the puzzle he was missing. But for now... he had to move on.

The light was gone.