Where Did We Go Wrong? [Blossomstep]

Smokefeather carefully and quietly slipped from the warriors' den, staring in dismay at the dark figures spread around Skyclan's camp as if it belonged to them. One of the strange cats from the group had the audacity to meet her gaze, and Smokefeather curled her lip in response. If there weren't so many of these strange cats, if the consequences of fighting hadn't been made clear enough, she would have torn his ears off. They had no right to be here.

All she could do was lash her tail and turn away, settling into a spot not far from the warriors' den. Do her best to ignore the foreign presence that permeated the camp as she licked a forepawm rubbing it across her tired face.

Dawnhawk had led them directly to Skyclan. He claimed it was for the greater good, and Smokefeather thought he was full of it. The group... Asylum... not that they deserved any such respect as to be referred to by name, had ambushed them in the middle of the night. Their leader had said he didn't want bloodshed, but they'd certainly been ready to shed blood at the first signs of resistance. Therefore, Dawnhawk's claims were hollow. Smokefeather had been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but not anymore. He had said that she had abandoned him, ignored him? He'd done so much worse to her and the rest of their family, the entire clan, without even a shred of genuine remorse that Smokefeather could see. Oh, he tried to come off that way, but Smokefeather no longer trusted his word for anything. A piece of carrion would be more trustworthy.

Smokefeather glared up at the sky in silent frustration, early-morning light filtering through the trees. It looked so peaceful, if only she could forget what had happened not even a week before.

Blossomstep had been restless, an unspoken fear of waking up to a paw against her throat again keeping her from a peaceful night's sleep. Recalling the events that took place only a few days prior left a sour taste in her mouth, and she rolled out of her warm nest. No sense in continuing to pursue something that refused to be caught when there were other, more important things at paw. Thinking she could maybe go to get a drink near the creek that flowed through the territory, then maybe do some hunting, she shook out her long pelt and stepped out of the den. The thoughts from moments before were dashed, and her lips curled up in a silent grimace of distaste. There would be no quiet early morning trips to the creek, or lone hunts with Wolfstar so long as these.... Asylum cats were around. Hissing as her frustration grew, she turned away from the camp entrance. Her eyes landed on Smokefeather, who was glaring up at the sky. The expression on her face mirrored Blossomstep's own, and she moved to walk towards her.

As Blossomstep approached, she considered how the pretty she-cat must be feeling. Her son had led the Asylum cats directly to them, and served them up like a fat, juicy squirrel for their taking. Blossomstep's ears flattened. Smokefeather and Bloodstrike's son, her and Wolfstar's grandson... Her apprentice. Where had she messed up? She had thought that he was ready, and she knew he was raised with the virtues she reared her kits with, and those that Smokefeather and Bloodstrike enforced. When had it all gone so wrong? How long had it been going on? Had she done something to push Dawnhawk to this? Or had it been something entirely out of their control? She was standing to Smokefeather's side now, and she lowered her head slightly. "Morning, Smokefeather. Would you mind some company? I think I could use some right now." She mewed, her final sentence more quiet and soft than the others.

Smokefeather had resigned herself to her bitter grief. Dawnhawk had betrayed his clan, betrayed his family, and she didn't think there would be a way to salvage it this time. What he'd done should have been unthinkable to anyone in the clan, and he'd done it anyway.

The tortoiseshell offered Blossomstep a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes as she gazed at the silver tabby. She looked very much how Smokefeather felt at the moment.

"I could use the company." Smokefeather admitted. Her voice was hoarse, pain obvious.

"How long has he been a part of this group? Did none of us know?" The thought was horrifying to her. Smokefeather continued, voice sounding strangely brittle, hollow almost. "A few weeks ago we sparred, with Copperpaw and Bloodstrike. He'd been acting out, more than usual. He eventually broke down and cried... I hadn't realized how much recent events had affected him." Smokefeather let out a shaky breath.

"I thought he'd opened up to me, finally. Then he does this. Stars, I never thought..." Her quiet voice trailed off, the pale tortoiseshell at a loss of what to say.

With her permission, Blossomstep settled next to the grief-stricken molly. She was close enough for their pelts to brush against each other, and she turned her head to groom the other she-cat's shoulder with long, comforting strokes of her tongue as Smokefeather opened up. Her voice seemed empty, echoing a lot of Blossomstep's own thoughts. "I don't know... I don't think anyone but Dawnhawk himself knows." She answered simply, pressing her muzzle to the groomed spot briefly before continuing. "I had no idea... I'm sorry, I'm should have been paying more attention... I feel like I let him down, and you as well. I'm glad to hear you had that time with him then, but I wish he would have taken the time to really talk to you. I can't even begin to imagine what you must be going through, Smokefeather. And I'm sorry."

Smokefeather turned her head, reciprocating the gesture as she licked Blossomstep's shoulder. The action itself was mindless, but it was at least a little soothing. If only this was a dream, and they could wake up and forget it ever happened, but she knew that wasn't possible. Bloodstrike was missing, Wolfstar had yet to return...

"I wish we could have seen it coming... prevented it somehow." The thought that she'd raised a traitor, raised a snake among the clan, stung more than she could put into words. Smokefeather was Dawnhawk's mother, and yet she hadn't known him at all. She could've done more, but hadn't.

"He could do... that... to his own father. Did we truly know him at all?" A weary shake of her head. No, of course they hadn't.

"There are many things I wish for, and that is among them. I'm not sure how I missed it, how we all could have." She sighed, pressing her muzzle to the she-cat's shoulder gently before resuming her grooming. "I suspect he's like Wolfstar, in that he keeps his emotions hidden and tries to deal with them himself without turning to others, but he turned to something other than his clan to raise up and support in his dark times. I'm sorry... I feel like I've failed him, and you, as his mentor and grandmother." She mewed softly, her voice reflecting her broken spirit.

"Seems like that trait runs in the family." Smokefeather commented dryly. "Bloodstrike did the same. I wonder how unhappy they'd be to find out they were all so similar?" It was a weak attempt at humor, but anything was better than wallowing.

"Do... Do you think the missing kits are tied into this, somehow?" She hesitated to ask, but... Their deputy was missing without a trace. Just as the kits had gone missing without a trace not that long before Asylum had showed up. Smokefeather had searched the territory relentlessly after Maplekit and Blazingkit had disappeared, as had several of the other warriors. They'd found nothing at all to even suggest where they could have gone.

"They would probably deny it with every fiber of their being, if I know those toms." Blossomstep purred lightly before she frowned, silently contemplating the meaning behind those words. Did she truly know any of them as well as she thought? Smokefeather's next words made the she-cat freeze mid-lick as she voiced a concern that she hadn't even considered. Her voice held truth though, and the tabby warrior warily resumed her grooming. "I'm not sure. It very well could, but we have nothing to lead us to that conclusion solidly.... And without a way to talk to the other clans, we have no way of trying to confirm or deny...." She scowled, her lip curling slightly. "If they are the cause, though... I'll send them to the Dark Forest myself for taking both of my sons."

Despite everything, Smokefeather's whiskers twitched at the thought. "I can imagine their protests. It would be nice payback after every gray hair they've caused." Her tone held only amusement, however, the threat wasn't a serious one.

"I don't know if I'm grasping at shadows because of this or not..." Smokefeather sighed. "But we searched everywhere for the kits and found nothing. I would gladly help send every one of them to the Dark Forest, if it was actually them."

Blossomstep chuckled softly in agreement. "They've caused a lot of gray hairs, look at me, I'm practically covered in them." She mewed, amusement coloring her voice as well. "Of course, not all of them are because of those toms, but a good majority of them are." Blossomstep pressed her side to Smokefeather's gently. "Of course. They won't even know what hit them, facing the two of us."