lost badger

Crickets chirped in the midnight air, their trills creating a cacophony of sound that quieted as she approached, and then started up again after she'd passed. By now, Rainstrike wasn't wary in ThunderClan territory anymore. The only cat she'd seen out this late was Pinepaw, who had no interest in attacking her, and in fact, it was the tawny apprentice who she hoped she'd run into again tonight. The pointed tabby wound her way through the trees she'd called home all her life. Even now, after everything that had happened, Rainstrike never felt as comfortable as when she was beneath these sheltering boughs. Oakstar could never take that from her; she'd die first, and she'd take as many with her as she could. The mottled gray she-kit she carried let out a piteous mew, and Rainstrike jerked her head to the side, silencing it quickly and pausing to listen, to see if the noise had brought any unwanted attention. After a moment, she relaxed, making her way deeper into the territory... to that place where she and Pinepaw had had their first meeting. There was no guarantee he'd show up, but it was an opportunity she wouldn't pass up. The other kits had been left to their own devices, but this one... this one had a purpose.

Upon reaching her destination she was alone, as she figured. Undeterred, she crawled beneath the shelter of a juniper bush and curled up, the kit at her belly. She grimaced as she felt its tiny claws against her skin, the urge to pull away, to abandon this little creature as she'd done with the others, rising like bile in her throat. But if there was one thing Rainstrike had an abundance of, it was spite, and this little dappled kit was both the product and the continuation of her spite - for Oakstar, and Ferretnose, and Minkstream, and Stormpaw. For the entirety of ThunderClan who had betrayed her and destroyed her life after she'd given them everything. Because this little dappled kit was the spitting image of Dacedream, who ThunderClan had loved so dearly, who Rainstrike had watched die at the paws of the Righteous Few. The other kits would grow up adopted into other families, or unknown about their origins. But this one would know where she'd come from, eventually - that is, if Pinepaw agreed to her terms.

Curling one foreleg, Rainstrike rested her chin against it and waited.

Fate and willpower were two different things Pinefrost believed in, both equal, neither overshadowing the other. Perhaps it was fate that had brought the warrior into the woods that night, but it was willpower that had driven him to his next decision. If life was to be a celebration of how great one was, then fate couldn't be all that made a cat. If destiny alone wove their lives together, then what would set Pinefrost apart from his clanmates? His own mind, his own steadfast nature, had made a decision. Yet it was something foreign and ethereal that had pulled his paws into the forest. It wasn't long until the russet tom stumbled across Rainstrike, sitting dutifully amongst the now fading leaves. He expected such an outcome, and found his spine to tingle every time he gazed upon her scarred face. Rainstrike had tried to kill Ferretnose, Rainstrike was a murderer, there was no question. But whenever he stood near Rainstrike, Pinefrost felt important.

The juniper bush that sheltered the she-cat couldn't hide the kit from Pinefrost's gaze. He was confused, stunned, and somewhat fearful. Not for his own safety, but for the young scrap curled at the outcast warrior's belly. There was no telling what Rainstrike was capable of, but where on earth had she gotten a kit? Unless it belonged to her? His curiosity only growing, Pinefrost cast aside his better judgement and ducked into the thorny thicket, eyes bright with confusion and concern. "What is this?" He asked, gazing down at the she-cat, seeing her as quite small now. During their last meeting, Pinefrost was still a lanky apprentice, but moons had passed since then. And he'd only grown, but the forest had not been so kind to Rainstrike. "I know it's been quite awhile, but... a kit? Were you... pregnant?" Pinefrost whispered the word as if Rainstrike would laugh him out of the bush for even speaking it. She didn't seem like the kind of cat to bear kits, nor to look after a litter with such diligence. But there was only one scrap that sat near her frame, a lonesome being. It reminded the tom of his nieces and nephews, Cedarheart's litter. Fate and birth circumstances could decide a cat's fortune, but it was willpower that made the story. This small kit, alone and cold, what was its tale?

Had Rainstrike been asked how, exactly, she knew Pinepaw would be here tonight, she couldn't answer it, but something told her to go, and wait, and in time, she would be rewarded. That voice in the back of her head was right, though, and she didn't have to wait too long before the russet tom appeared, and as usual, he was full of questions that she was unsure of how to answer. She'd known for a long time that this kit, the one that looked so much like Dacedream, was destined for ThunderClan, so that they would remember her and hurt every time she crossed their path. But now that Pinepaw was here, Rainstrike found herself full of uncertainty. She had never been a good mother to any of her kits; the ex-ThunderClanner simply didn't have it in her to love anymore. Yes, they were fed and protected and warmed, but... Rainstrike was far from the nurturing type.

If this kit's origins were discovered by the rest of the clan, it was likely to cause strife, not just for them, but for her, and momentarily Rainstrike was put off by that fact, despite her disconnect with the tiny dappled bundle at her belly. She knew what it was like for the entire clan to hate her for something she hadn't done. Yes, she'd tried to kill Oakstar, she'd tried to kill Minkstream, but ThunderClan really hated her because she hadn't tried to save Dacedream. The thought of this kit having to go through the same was annoyingly discomforting for her, but she shook it off with an irritated flick of her tail.

"I assume I don't have to explain to you where kits come from?" She said, a bit grumpily. Still, though, there was something akin to affection in her gaze when she stared at her companion. "You've gotten taller. Surely you're a warrior by now? Deputy? Leader, even?"

What resembled a flustered mumble bubbled from Pinefrost's maw at Rainstrike's question. Of course he knew where kits came from... While he had some knowledge on the subject, seeing one of his more complicated contacts as a queen... the warrior didn't know how to react. He never knew Rainstrike to be close to any toms, nor did she ever hint at pregnancy... but perhaps it wasn't his business. The next question the outcasted warrior spoke proved equally difficult to answer. It was as if Rainstrike had asked Pinefrost whether he'd achieved greatness yet or not. Was Pinefrost notable? Did his life shine like the stars? Not yet, the tom thought to himself, but soon.

"I'm Pinefrost now. Just a warrior... but a good one at that. It was only a few sunrises ago my kin and I killed an owl." His statement paled in comparison to what Rainstrike was most likely expecting, but it was something. There was a desire within the young tom to prove himself to the outcast. She'd made something of herself, told a story that the elders would surely remember for moons and moons. She'd killed Jaydream - and almost Ferretnose, too. Pinefrost wouldn't be far behind, however. He'd match Rainstrike's fame one day.

"Your kit... do they have a name? Why did you bring them back to ThunderClan's territory? You know how most of my clanmates feel about you. If it's food you need, I can fetch you some, but if you get caught, Rain..."

There was a long pause between the end of Pinefrost's question, and Rainstrike's response. She studied the tom with a serious eye, her paws kneading the ground unconsciously, but eventually, she scoffed, shaking her head at him with an annoyed expression. "I don't need your handouts, or your warnings, Pinefrost," she said, and the kit at her belly mewled in surprise at the sudden harsh tone. Rainstrike gave it a quick glance before returning her attentions to the ThunderClan Tom.

"I haven't survived this long on the generosity of others," she scowled. "I can take care of myself. But this-" she rose, taking a forepaw and scooping the protesting dappled kit towards Pinefrost. "This isn't for me. I don't want it - her. Badger." The name made Rainstrike's lip curl, and she stepped away, so that the kit was directly in between herself and the russet warrior.

"There are others," she said vaguely. "But this one belongs in ThunderClan."

Fate, willpower. What Pinefrost said next was a mix of both. Perhaps the stars themselves had destined it for him, but really, it was never his destiny they were concerned with. "You can't be the one to take her to ThunderClan. But I... I'd be willing to." There wasn't even a shred of hesitation in his tone. Pinefrost's green eyes were like flames, gazing at Rainstrike with the ferocity of a fire. The kit, her kit. Badger was to be the last shred of Rainstrike Pinefrost could claim. The outcast had tried to kill his mother, it wouldn't be right to see her anymore. The thought stabbed the warrior through the heart, but as he gazed at Rainstrike's daughter, he knew it would be okay. This gesture of taking Rainstrike's kit to ThunderClan, perhaps he'd finally earn favor in her eyes. Anything for a good story, anything to perfect his life. Pinefrost shook out his pelt, confused and conflicted with how he was feeling. Why did he care for Rainstrike so? Did he idolize her? Was she his role model? Or was he simply jealous of the fame she had achieved?

It was kit-like to want to escort Rainstrike's daughter to ThunderClan. But Pinefrost knew, in a way, that he must. He wanted to. Anything for a story, anything to make his life shine like the stars. "We'll say she's the daughter of a rogue, abandoned in the forest. Rain, you must know, if ThunderClan knows she's you're kin..." Pinefrost sighed and began to pace, russet tail whipping to and fro. "Why do you do such brazen things? First Jaydream, then Ferretnose, and now this? I don't understand... Is this some kind of test? You and I... we're different, and yet... I want your kit. And if you want her in ThunderClan then... Foxdung. I'll protect her."

She listened to his ramblings with an amused expression, never once letting her eye away from him. Rainstrike remained there, stretched out and relaxed, as she watched him pull the kit closer, protectively, almost as if he was ensuring that she wouldn't harm it. It was an interesting thought - one that actually held merit, though, as she'd actually considered killing the she-kit on more than one occasion. But Badger was in no danger from her now. Not physically, anyway. Her reputation was another story... if ThunderClan ever found out who Badger was, she'd face their ire for sure, but that was not her concern any longer.

"Then don't let them find out," she said simply. She rose, padding forward, to touch her nose to Pinefrost's cheek. "But she must. Eventually." Rainstrike moved past Pinefrost, her tail trailing along his spine. "As for your other question..." she trailed off, shaking her head with a quick exhale of a snort. "Some things have no explanation. No way to rationalize, no reason to, either... it's just..." she paused again, "chaos is in my blood, Pinefrost. And it's in hers, too. Thank you." With that, she vanished into the underbrush.