You couldn't kill me if you wanted to

Smokefeather had begun to bristle at Dawnhawk's waspish retort. He kept speaking, however, and at the mention of Dustpaw it was like all the fight had been pulled out of her, expression changing from one of frustrated anger to one of pain. She had been ready to growl at him in response after his first words, but her own retort died in her throat.

Would it have bothered her if--? Was he truly doubting that it would? As frustrating as Dawnhawk could be and often was, he was her son. It wouldn't just 'bother' her if anything happened to him. To any of her kits. That he had any reason to doubt that at all had a sharp pain radiating through her chest. Smokefeather wasn't the stoic type, and she couldn't hide her expression, not when her kit was hurting so.

Had she neglected him that much over the moons? He had hardly showed grief at so much of what happened recently, and most of her attention even before that was always elsewhere. She had never coddled Primroselight, but rather had pushed the young warrior to learn to the best of her abilities and to work with her limitations. Dustpaw had lost her mentor, and she'd taken on training her too, if unofficially. She'd offered Beechpaw a shoulder to cry on and felt like she had gotten nowhere with her. She hadn't spoken for days after Sagelight's death, had been just as silent as Copperpaw was now until she'd finally snapped at Bloodstrike. Before that, Beechpaw hadn't eaten either, and it had killed Smokefeather to see that. Through all of it, Dawnhawk had seemed like a rock, unaffected as he hunted and fought with the clan. Had he just been bottling up his own emotions all this time, not saying a word to anyone? And Smokefeather, too wrapped up in all the other things that had been going on, hadn't noticed at all. She'd dismissed his temper, dismissed the angry outbursts as a sign of her failures to raise a respectable son. And... They were a sign of her failure. Her failure to listen, failure to give Dawnhawk the same attention she gave her other kits.

"Dawnhawk." Gone was the anger from earlier as the understanding of the tom's words truly sank in. She'd gone and done the one thing to Dawnhawk that she had sworn never to do to her kits, the knowledge of that transgression settling into a lump in her throat. The tears welling in his eyes were the last thing she would have expected from her eldest son. A breath escaped her, more of a sigh than anything else as she stood and walked over to the pale tom.

She hesitated slightly, tail tip twitching. He had doubts that she cared about him as much as she cared for her other kits, she'd failed him, and hadn't even realized it until now. Would he even want her comfort? Her fluffy tail flicked to rest gently across his back, though if Dawnhawk moved away, Smokefeather wouldn't force the contact. He'd be well within his rights to, and Smokefeather would have deserved as much for her own carelessness with him. She'd abandoned him and hadn't realized, not physically, but emotionally, leaving him out in the cold just like Falconclaw had done to her and Rainfur, after Fogfeather's final breath. The same thing she so harshly scorned Redfall for doing to his own kits.

She was a stars-cursed fool.

"I'm sorry, Dawnhawk. I hadn't even realized I'd pulled away from you so completely... I've always loved you, just as much as your siblings. You should never have had reason to doubt that even for a moment." Her own vision was a bit misty, and her tone faltered only slightly, regret and sorrow interwoven in her quiet words.

If he hadn't pulled away from her, Smokefeather would attempt to draw the warrior closer to her. Still, if he resisted, she'd stop. If he wanted space from her, she would give him that too, as much as it would've pained her to do so.

Bloodstrike was relieved to see Smokefeather's expression soften and her eyes lose their frigid edge. He hadn't thought that she hated Dawnhawk, but he didn't know if she would have gotten defensive or not over the questions. He watched as she moved over to their oldest son and his eyes flicked to Copperpaw. The apprentice had a questioning look in his eye, and to that, Bloodstrike nodded for the both of them to clear out. This was a conversation that they were not supposed to be apart of and he wanted both Dawnhawk and Smokefeather to speak to each other freely. Training could continue later on.

---

Dawnhawk stiffened when Smokefeather approached. The thought of moving away from her definitely crossed his mind... but another feeling overcame him first and much stronger. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a gentle or loving touch from his mother. He didn't realize how much he'd wanted it even, until she approached the the possibility of giving it to him. She stood beside him and rested her tail on his back. His expression never changed, but he neither leaned into her or pulled away. For once, he wasn't really sure what he should do.

She kept talking and he listened, not even realizing that Copperpaw and Bloodstrike had slipped away from the area silently. He was too focused on her and how confusing this all felt. Part of him was even tense, waiting for paws to pummel him again or for sharp words to come out of his mother's mouth. None came, which only made him that much more unsure.

Especially with recent... events and decisions he had made.

As she tried to pull him in closer, he allowed it for a moment. He didn't know when or if he would feel this again. Still... he knew that if he caved in completely and returned her affections it would only make him more confused and angry than he was already. So instead... Dawnhawk made his choice to pull away. He turned himself to face her again, this time keeping half of a fox-length away from her.

"Then, why did you let it?" The instant his question left his mouth, he knew he'd been here too long. His ears rotated back and flattened against his head. He made a mistake opening his mouth and breaking down. He made a mistake acknowledging his own loneliness. His claws dug into the earth and he swallowed something like a hot coal that had been lodged in his throat. "I'm a better fighter than you think. I just can't hurt you." He growled, forcing his emotions away with the intensity of it. "But I can hurt anyone else. It doesn't bother me. If it had been dad I was fighting I could have-" Dawnhawk looked to see that Bloodstrike was gone. His fur bristled and his jaw clenched. With his extra fluffed out tail now lashing from side to side angrily, his eyes went back to Smokefeather.

An unexpected wave of emotion crashed through him again, putting out the fires of his fury and replacing it with a familiar pain and loneliness that he tried to avoid. Except now his emotions were unstable. He had desperately tried to change the subject by saying he could have fought Bloodstrike and won. It looked like his father had made sure to not give him an opportunity to avoid what he apparently thought needed to be talked about. Tears finally streamed down Dawnhawk's face. He hated them. Like so many secrets that he kept within himself he tried to hide those too. He turned his face away and pretended to be preoccupied with a bird at the top of a nearby tree. "You know... I even started to like Spottedstar." He spoke with an eerie calm once he finally found his voice. "I know he wasn't a great leader, but he had nothing but good things to say about me. Dustpaw and me were fairly similar, though she didn't have the cruel streak in her that I do. It was nice having her around because me and Beechpaw would always fight. Primroselight was nice to me too but she's nice to everyone." He paused for a moment and finally looked back at Smokefeather. His face was damp, but his eyes no longer allowed tears to escape.

He sucked in a huge breath, big enough that his lungs couldn't hold anymore air, before he exhaled a shaky breath. "I know it's been said that our leaders are supposed to be the role-models to Starclan. They guide us and protect us... supposedly like Starclan does. But if our leaders bailed... then what does that say about Starclan?" His claws gouged the earth beneath his claws as his eyes slowly hardened into their typical, icy stare that he always hid behind. "The sister that I had the most in common with is dead... my leader abandoned the clan... and my mother only realized just now that I have been alone for moons, and only because I finally had to say something? Why? Why did you treat me with such... contempt and yet you're still surprised to hear me asking these questions?" He had to do it. He had to push her away. If he didn't, then all of his efforts up to this point could all come undone...

So push her away he did... all the while ignoring the ever-growing pain in his chest as his heart broke a little more.

"I'm no more immune to making mistakes than the next cat, Dawnhawk." Smokefeather sighed, "You were never like Beechpaw to wear your emotions plainly and lash out immediately. When she was an apprentice, Primroselight would cry tears of frustration with every misstep. I watched you train and keep whatever emotions you had hidden aside from the typical sibling spats and what I thought was the typical rebelliousness and tempermentalness of youth. As frustrating as you and Beechpaw's constant bickering could be, I assumed that you were fine, and I assumed wrongly. The fault lies purely with me for that. Your father would wall himself off for weeks at a time until he exploded in pent up anger, and I of all cats should have been more aware of you, and I failed at that."

Smokefeather allowed him to move away, though a part of her wanted to pull him back to her side as if he were a kit still. Gray-green eyes burning with regret lifted to meet Dawnhawk's blue gaze as he faced her once more.

"Skyclan leadership has a history of abandoning the clan, and Starclan a history of doing nothing, you know. I'd only ever spoken to Spottedstar once, and that was at my warrior ceremony. Sagelight's apprentice before Beechpaw, Honeysong, ran away from the clan shortly before that, and before her there were numerous other medicine cats and warriors to do the same, according to the elders, and Spottedstar could hardly get the ceremonial words out, too wrapped up in his own grief probably. I always knew as him distant and unapproachable, perhaps he grew jaded after seeing so many others abandon the clan. Even Tinyst-- Tinylegs has abandoned the clan. And my own father is still practically a stranger to me, even now." A short, bitter laugh escaped her. "The one thing I promised myself I would never do to my own kits, and I did it without even realizing it."

"We can't change the past, Dawnhawk, much as we might wish to. We can only try and correct our mistakes moving forward."

Dawnhawk listened to his mother talk and did not try to interrupt her. She was at least making sense. Dawnhawk had been very good at hiding his emotions up until this exact moment. Things were becoming a bit too much. Too much, too fast; And there would be more to come. Once she had finished speaking, he sighed deeply and nodded once.

"That's reasonable. I guess... at least you know how I felt now and I know how you feel." At least he didn't get the answer that he thought he was going to get. Was that a good thing? In some ways yes... in others it just complicated things. There was still time to see how things were going to go... maybe.

"I didn't want to bring this to your attention ever. I didn't even mean to now. I'm sorry you're upset." He felt like he meant those words, but even to him they sounded so hollow. There was too much turmoil and confusion inside him now for him to know exactly how he felt about anything anymore. He didn't mean to break and let these inner thoughts and feelings slip out. He shouldn't have done it.

"I'd like to go lay down for awhile. If dad wonders where I've gone, I'm just back at camp. I need a little time for myself for now." He started to walk back in the direction of camp and did his best to banish the thoughts waging war through his brain. Still, he didn't walk so fast that she couldn't speak up again if she so chose. If not, that was fine with him. He wanted to take a nap and forget this situation for a little while.