where there is rest [closed]

Exhaustion had wracked his limbs prior to the clan discovering some of their kits had gone missing. The mental and physical strain was something he couldn't ignore now. His frame longed to rest in the sparse and scraped together nest that waited for him back in the warrior's den. But something nagged at the edges of his mind. Earth was still scuffed from where cats had mourned over Sagelight's body, sniffles and mourning alight in their eyes. His gaze trailed from the worn dirt to the medicine cat den. There was something about it that caused him to want to tuck tail and turn away forever; perhaps the time spent there was still burned in his conscious. Yet the warrior's paws carried him forward with another thought. Beechpaw will be sleeping alone in that empty den tonight.

The pair had hardly spoken but in their sparse conversations, he'd found himself fond of the young she-cat. It had become how lost and confused she'd seemed in her position, something Wrenspring had felt himself at other times in his life. Honestly, he was feeling it now. With their leader gone and Redfall returned to the clan, the gray and white-pelted tom found himself uncertain of his place and what exactly what needed to be done for the clan. Now, too, kits had gone missing and it was hard not to place the blame on himself as he was sure so many of his other clanmates were doing. A low sigh left his maw as he padded through the entrance and faced the medicine cat, who seemed busied in her own work, or was merely staring blankly at the back of the den. He couldn't tell.

"Hey, Beechpaw. I'm sorry to interrupt. It, uh, it feels so empty in here. I'm assuming you've already taken care of all our clanmates after everything." He lowered his ears, uncertain what more to say. Wrenspring found himself wishing he knew her better, something he'd been hoping to do with all his clanmates. It would have made this whole circumstance far simpler to navigate, "Do you mind if I stay here for a while? I could use some more poppy seeds, I think. Sage- I mean, I had some for my paw the other day."

Beechpaw had retreated to what passed for the medicine cat den, listlessly sorting through piles of herbs. Blossomstep was distraught, and Wolfcall's patrols hadn't found a sign of the missing kits at all. She'd been helping the warriors in their repairs on the camp in between stocking up on what few herbs she could find in the ashen territory, but she knew it wasn't going to be enough.

Sagelight would've handled this better, she was sure. A fresh wave of grief at that thought made her vision blur, and the large apprentice blinked rapidly, wanting to stem the tide of tears before they could start, grimly focusing on the task at hand and trying to shove any other thoughts out of her mind.

She'd almost succeeded by the time a voice from behind made her jump slightly, and Beechpaw turned to face it, a waspish retort on her tongue.

A quiet huff escaped her, though whether it was frustration or exhaustion was anyone's guess. Dull eyes flicked up to Wrenspring's briefly. The gray and white tom looked about as exhausted as Beechpaw felt.

"Most of them." She muttered, voice cracking slightly. He'd started to say Sagelight's name, then stopped, almost as if thinking better of it. It hadn't gone unnoticed, of course.

"It's fine." She added, tail almost absently flicking in the direction of one of the nests. They were relatively bare, cobbled together quickly out of necessity, in case anything else happened (and Beechpaw was sure something else would, because that was just Skyclan's luck as of late), and were as yet unoccupied.

"How badly are your other injuries still bothering you?" She asked, carefully picking out a single poppy seed for the tom. Enough to dull the pain, but not enough to make him drowsy. He'd been injured by the foxes as well, but it seemed as though the paw bothered him most. Beechpaw had done what she could after the mousebrain had finally let her tend to his wounds after the vigil for Sagelight, but she wasn't content to ignore the other wounds while he was here.

As the medicine cat turned, her flustered state only obvious in brief snatches of expression, Wrenspring studied her features. The weary state and defeated, dull gaze were obvious; both things he understood all too well. Air had saturated his lungs in the most unappealing way and as he sunk into the nest, the warrior felt it deflate from the sides of his maw. He'd been holding in so much more than the death of Sagelight. Skyclan was buried under rocks, in a metaphorical sense, stifling their ability to grow after the many things they had endured. The warrior had never questioned his faith in the warrior ancestors, nor the code by which he was bound, but it was moments like this where he allowed the exasperation to overwhelm him.

His chin rested atop his paws. All of them were expected to work tirelessly, they had to, regardless of what weighed their paws. Beechpaw seemed to have the worst of it all. Most warriors had mates or kin to lean on, and apprentices their mentors. He reflection on his own loneliness, something partially of his own design, and he saw how real it was for the young she-cat. Her den was empty. All her patients had returned to their dens. This was where she rested, alone. It was maddening to even consider such a thing and aching sympathy wormed its way into his chest. The tom had been learning to share in the burdens with his clanmates, seeking deeper connection with them. Claws picked at the dried moss as he stared down the bridge of his nose.

It was hard to look at Beechpaw, especially as he found himself contemplating pressing his coat to hers in an attempt to stave back their shared burdens, and her own unique pressures. Several moons ago in this same den, he'd felt a similar sensation as Honeysong had tended to his wounds. Wrenspring glanced to the back of the den, trying to ignore the thoughts simmering just below the surface. Whatever strange affiliation he felt towards the medicine cat, of his own design or otherwise, it was merely a kittish thought - reminiscent of when his ear's had heated at the sweet sound of their old medicine cat's voice. He'd never entertained romance or family for more than a flickering of his tail; this was certainly not the time to take up such a habit.

Besides, the she-cat had asked him a question. Wrenspring finally met her gaze once more, "I'm fine, really. I just need some rest and something to stave the pain away. How are you holding up, Beechpaw?" You tend to so many cats, but who is caring for you?

The silver tabby transferred the poppy seed onto a beech leaf, then slid the leaf toward Wrenspring. It would dull the pain of the physical injuries, at least. If there was anything to truly soothe the mind and rid it of unwanted thoughts beyond making one drowsy or euphoric off of painkillers, Beechpaw had yet to learn about it, if such a thing even existed.

At his words, Beechpaw's shoulders tensed slightly. It was a good question, yet it still wasn't something she had any real desire to answer. Most of her clanmates had mercifully avoided asking the question, either out of genuine apathy or because they were dealing with their own struggles. Wrenspring had asked and it was almost comforting, that she wasn't a complete afterthought to at least one of her clanmates. Of course her parents and Primroselight were there for her, but their care felt more like a given obligation. They were family, after all. She didn't doubt they were genuine and sincere in their care for her, but Beechpaw still felt alone, isolated from most of the clan.

She'd been sympathetic when Dustpaw had floundered after losing her own mentor, and now here she was, moons later, also without a mentor. Dustpaw had been able to turn to any other warrior in the clan for training, Smokefeather had picked it up more often than not, Beechpaw knew. Yet Smokefeather or Bloodstrike couldn't pick up the training of a medicine cat, nor could anyone else in Skyclan. That left the medicine cats of the other clans, of whom Beechpaw was less familiar with and entirely too wary of. The gatherings seemed miserable enough on their own, but the thought of needing to ask one of the other medicine cats for help as well rankled. Not because Beechpaw was too prideful to ask, she knew more than anyone that she was a half-trained medicine cat at best, but she hadn't wanted to awkwardly ask another that she was entirely unfamiliar with for help. The knot of anxiety in her stomach didn't need any more encouragement to grow.

"I'm- I'm fine. Really." Beechpaw managed to respond, echoing the tom's own words back at him. She dropped her eyes, steadfastly avoiding the older tom's gaze. In a different time, perhaps there might've been some snark to her tone as she'd echoed his words back to him, but not tonight. She wasn't Smokefeather, to muster up a chipper attitude even when things had gone sideways. She couldn't force her tone of voice and posture to match the lie of her words, much as she wanted to.

At the offering of the poppy seed, the warrior tilted his head gratefully. For a moment, he looked down at the tiny seed, stark against the leaf. His eyes pried at it for a moment, as if searching for more beyond the lackluster scene. Finally, Wrenspring dipped his head to lap up the thing. It was merely a seed in many ways, but beyond that it was the first measure of healing he had received in their own camp for moons. This seemingly small thing crunched between his teeth as he looked back up to studied the medicine cat. A precious resource, something her paws had worked to procure. How had he never considered the work poured into these little labors?

She finally responded to his pressing question, muttering her own incantation of his words. That fact wasn't lost on the tom and a weary smile crossed his maw as his twitched his whiskers. The little phrase, seemingly insignificant. But this was a moment of rest after all the many encounters that had stripped his body of strength. For this reason, Wrenspring caught how soft Beechpaw's speech was. It was perhaps the most subdued thing he'd ever heard her meow. Not that her tone had ever possessed the rough lash around him that it seemed to with other cats. Still, this was different.

"Come here, Beechpaw." Wrenspring whispered in the most tender way, seeking her gaze. Concern and understanding lit his eyes, warm invitation as he tilted his head towards the nest. This was a moss nest for healing, for rest, and their medicine cat both needed and deserved it all. The warrior shifted over, leaning over the edge of the nest and resting his side comfortably into the earth. Beechpaw was considerably larger, more deserving of the space. She needed comfort and the thought of getting his ears boxed off never occurred. More than anything, clanmates needed clanmates now, and the one who constantly cared for the rest of the clan needed a moment herself. A burden was placed on her now that no other cat could truly understand.

"You need to rest your paws now and then, or at least for this night."

Beechpaw blinked up at Wrenspring, surprise flickering across her features as he offered her the nest. A few days prior, and she would have chewed his ear off for it, but now she complied, almost meekly. Most of her vitriol and venom had been spent, hurled at Bloodstrike in frustration. Misplaced frustration and blame, and Beechpaw knew she'd need to apologize to her father at some point. He'd understood, of course, but after it was over she'd felt like more of a piece of foxdung.

Beechpaw shifted slightly, trying to make her large form take up less space. It was an awkward fit; the nest wasn't made for two, much less two fully-grown. Their pelts brushed, unavoidable even as she braced herself on the edge of the nest. It wouldn't be right to make him move. As awkward as it was though, Beechpaw found that she didn't particularly mind. Wrenspring asked nothing of her and seemed to expect nothing of her. He offered no judgement, and in the past few moons his calm presence was something to rely on even from a distance, one of the few members of the clan who kept on with their lives and took each hit on the chin seemingly unaffected, a silent support for which Skyclan leaned on. It was oddly comforting, perhaps more than it should've been.

"I just... I don't know if I can do this." Beechpaw found herself admitting the words quietly, voice barely a whisper. "I know I'll have to ask the other medicine cats for help but..." Her voice trailed off, the she-cat lost to her own uncertainty. Asking the other medicine cats for help would be daunting in its' own right. Beechpaw was seldom shy about admitting her faults, but to seek help from strangers was entirely different. She hadn't been particularly close with Sagelight, had certainly resented the old tom, but he was family. He'd done his best to teach her as much as he could under the uncharitable circumstances Skyclan had been thrust into. Even under stress he'd always seemed so sure of himself, so sure of what he was doing. Beechpaw wished she could share in that feeling, but she couldn't. She was lost, perhaps as lost as she'd ever been, and the pressure that sat squarely on her shoulders made it feel impossible to find her way out of the labyrinth she was in.

As she settled down, the tom noticed the way she gingerly placed herself at the edge of the nest, attempting not to shove him over. This was a nest crafted for the temporary comfort of a single patient. A cat of Beechpaw's size plus a warrior? It certainly was cramped. But Wrenspring didn't mind. As their pelts brushed, he shifted closer, and draped his bent tail over her back. His head lowered and tilted to the size, hoping to drink in her words. The weight of Starclan was an overwhelming burden he found himself relieved to never bear. Warriorhood had blessed him with certain measures of ignorance when it came to grander matters; the way that most clan cats were trained provided a nearly mindless way of busying his paws.

"There's never been a more capable cat." Wrenspring declared, his voice lowered to match hers, undoubtedly not lacking in honesty and certainty. The gray and white warrior found himself willing for something more than words to comfort Beechpaw. All he could do was be a listening ear and a warm pelt to lean on. After all these moons, it seemed he was learning to be less inept when it came to the comfort of another. Would such a skill have prevented his falling out with Redfall? His whiskers twitched and he glanced back to the medicine cat, realizing his eyes had drifted away for a moment. This was no time to consider the events of the past.

"I could come with?" He offered, dipping his head as he realized the question had slipped off his tongue unintentionally, "To seek the other medicine cats, I mean. I wouldn't want you to go alone because, well, you know... you're not alone. If there is one thing I can promise you, it's that." Wrenspring ducked his head now, tucking it over his paws and glancing up at the she-cat next to him with lowered ears. One moment it had felt like he was comforting a younger cat, but the more he found himself considering his own similar pains, he had drawn about a level of acceptance: Beechpaw wasn't just some apprentice anymore, she was their medicine cat, and even if she couldn't see it, there was practiced experience about her paws. It was embarrassment at the realization that had caused him to place his chin on his forepaws.

The words, while unintentional, had been genuine and betrayed the honest desire worming its way into his gut - he wanted to aid her in any way possible. Wrenspring just hoped she didn't see him as a another detached and foolish warrior, seeking to bring about some foreign and unwelcome comfort. After a moment, he tilted his head and lifted it slightly to butt it into her shoulder. Warriors and medicine cats didn't share dens but it didn't mean they couldn't lay at each other's side in times of need, right?

"I hope you're right..." Beechpaw muttered. "You and Wolfcall always seem so certain of yourselves." An uncharacteristically soft note that was on the border of vulnerability had entered Beechpaw's voice. It was an idle musing, and Beechpaw hardly realized she'd spoken the words until they had slipped from her mouth.

What she said was true, though. Wrenspring, Wolfcall, Bloodstrike... Even Smokefeather and Primroselight always seemed so sure of what they were doing. Even Dawnhawk, as infuriating as her brother could be, never seemed to waver in his certainty of his own abilities. Much of it was simply pride on his part, she had figured, but then Beechpaw felt like it couldn't just be her brother's ego. The clan could hardly fit that ego, and for the others to have such an ego would have fractured the clan long ago, surely?

"I figured I'd ask at the gathering. I know one of the Thunderclanners is training Shadowclan's medicine cat." Cinderpaw, she thought the Shadowclanner had been called, but her mind was too wrapped up in other things to remember. And that one Windclanner had been panicking, so Beechpaw hadn't paid the other apprentice much attention beyond a quick glance. The gathering would happen soon, and so Beechpaw figured they would run into each other there. Or not, the other apprentice had certainly done her best to fade into the background. With the Windclan cat's antics, Beechpaw couldn't blame her for it.

"I appreciate the offer, though." She added quietly.

"Certain?" The tom raised his head, whiskers twitching in amusement. It was perplexing to him, and equal parts humorous, that any cat could find him to be a confident creature. And yet, hadn't he thought the same of older cats in his youth? Experience didn't make a cat wise, rather, simply more used to the churning tides of life. Wrenspring sought the right words but found himself less entangled with correctness and rather enamored with the idea of genuine expression, "I wish I could feel as certain as you seem to think I am, and I'm sure Wolfcall feels the same. I supposed I've just learned that the weather keeps changing whether I'm certain of my next step or not. Doesn't do any cat good to overburden their mind."

A soft smile flickered across his maw. Great Starclan, when did I start sounding like an elder. Wrenspring's tail tip flickered lightly. He nodded slightly at the idea she would merely ask about training at the gathering. And there would be medicine cat meetings too, of course. His expression faltered at the idea of her traveling alone through the territory on such a long journey. But that was her burden to bear and all he could do was offer a strong shoulder to lean on. Well, as strong as he could muster. Maybe his scarred shoulder would be better prepared for such a feat if her ever rested it. He tipped his head to butt her side once again before laying his chin back onto the nest, "Well, if you ever need a warrior, you know where to find one."

His eyes peered into the creeping darkness, straining to absorb the spiderweb thin strands that just barely found their way into the depths of the den. After everything they had been through, an overcrowded nest and the ash-tinged scents of camp where the most comforting scents. Wrenspring breathed in, drinking in the moment, and the tasted of the medicine cat across the breeze. Here was not just for the physically injured; to be of such a mindset condemned both Beechpaw and the rest of Skycaln. No, here there was rest, and companionship throughout the darkest nights. Perhaps it was this moment that would teach him to visit more often. The soft cadence of her whispered words rang in his ears as the silence stretched between them.

Finally the tom rolled to his side with a low sigh, back facing the medicine cat as their pelts still gingerly brushed together, "Everything's going to be alright, Beechpaw, at least for this very moment. Let's not think too much on the next."

Overburden the mind? Oh, if only Wrenspring knew... But then, maybe he did. And perhaps Wolfcall, as well. She'd only ever known her grandfather as Skyclan's de-facto leader. In name he was only deputy, but now with Spottedstar the structure of their leadership hardly seemed to have changed.  Yet he'd lost his own predecessor within weeks of her losing her own mentor. Hardly even weeks. The older toms were definitely more well-adjusted to the change than she was outwardly.

"Fair point, though it feels like that's easier said than done. I suppose I am prone to overthinking things." She commented wryly. Still, something in his words put her more at ease, and she briefly pressed her side to his in appreciation, a weary sigh falling from her lips. Now that she was sitting, she realized how exhausted she had become over the past few days. What had Wrenspring said about her needing rest too? The gray and white warrior was right, and the thought did not rankle as it might have coming from others. A small smile played across her lips at the thought, and Beechpaw allowed her tail to briefly touch Wrenspring's side as he gently pressed his back against her side.

"I- You're right." Of course he was. "Thank you, Wrenspring." She murmured. Feeling almost at peace after who-knew-how-long was an odd feeling, but Beechpaw found herself far preferring it to her emotional state over the past few days. Maybe, just maybe, the feeling would last a bit longer.