Sound of Silence [Copperfox]

A chilly breeze ruffled Smokefeather's fur as she leapt up to one of the few solid branches that remained on the trees around camp. A few of the rogues gave her weird looks, seeming uncomfortable with the cats who made their way through the trees with such ease, and the thought of them being uncomfortable was almost enough to make Smokefeather smile.

Fortunately for them, she had no plans of attacking them from above. If they'd been significantly less in number, and if she had backup, she might've considered it. She didn't have a deathwish however, and so instead the fluffy tortoiseshell merely stretched out along the branch, tail and one front paw dangling off the edge in an almost careless manner. She could have appeared relaxed, if her wasn't slowly twitching back and forth as sharp, gray-green eyes took in the clearing below.

Copperfox walked into camp with a large rat dangling from his jaws. Without paying much attention to the nightstrikers that accompanied him, he dropped it in the fresh-kill pile. He hadn't spoken a word for most of the day, hoping that the asylum cats would think him boring enough to leave alone. Some snow fell from a tree branch in a sizeable clump. His eyes followed it and he spotted his mother, looking as pleased as as she had when the asylum cats first took over. Copperfox sighed, turned his attention to the nightstrikers that seemed to enjoy following him around despite his silence. He nodded at them once, reassurance that he wasn't going to do anything foolish, before he climbed up the tree himself. Despite his reassurance, the asylum soldiers looked at one another, clearly not thrilled that they would be at a disadvantage in the trees if they chased after him. Copperfox had to be more careful on the branches, but he tested them carefully before putting any meaningful weight on them.

He managed to find one that was stable a reasonable distance to Smokefeather's right and lie down on it. His claws gripped it as a squirrel might for extra balance. For several moments he said nothing, content to watch the world go on below him as Smokefeather was. Eventually though, the silence became too much for him and he spoke.

"I'm sorry mom." His voice sounded less hoarse from lack of use, as he had been trying to get accustomed to speaking again. "I'm sorry that I worried you. I'm sorry that I was too afraid to fight back when they came." A hard frown stayed plastered to his expression. His eyes moistened a little, though no tears actually formed or fell yet. "I'm sorry that I've been such a coward. You deserve better."

"Hey, Copperfox." Smokefeather offered her son and former apprentice a tired smile as he made his way into a branch not far from where she perched. The silence stretched between them, though Smokefeather had quickly learned to shrug off her discomfort with it after the fox attack. She would never force him to speak before he was ready to do so on his own.

An ear flicked, and Smokefeather turned her head as Copperfox spoke. His voice was rusty from lack of use still, but that would improve. She'd worried about him after the fox attack, and Beechface had said at the time that it was shock. It had persisted longer, though, and Smokefeather had worried just as she'd worry over any of her other kits.

"You have nothing to apologize for." She began after he'd stopped speaking, "And you'll just have to live with my worrying. You're my son. I'll always worry about you."

"There's nothing you could have done that would have helped the situation. We all had claws and fangs at our throats, we were all pinned and outnumbered. You heard Dawnhawk, the only reason they didn't kill your father when he fought back was to avoid making him a martyr." Smokefeather's voice betrayed her anger, and she took a breath, forcing some control back into her voice. Smokefeather didn't trust that the rogues or Dawnhawk would hold to that.

"You're not a coward, son. You don't like fighting, and that's something that applies to most cats." As terrified as he'd been against the fox that had found them that day she'd been teaching him to hunt, he'd fought. If she'd still been Sunflower's apprentice, he likely would've ran and left her to fend for herself if they'd come across that fox. That was cowardice.

"When I was an apprentice, Sunflower and I were attacked by an owl. My mentor left me and ran like his tail was on fire. You were an untrained apprentice on his first day out of camp when we were attacked by that fox. I ordered you up a tree for your own safety, and you fought despite your own terror. That isn't cowardice." She added, eyes still on the young warrior.

Copperfox seemed unconvinced, but he listened to his mother's stories anyway. He inwardly winced at the memory of Bloodstrike getting beaten to a pulp. Copperfox might have screamed if his voice hadn't been choked off from sheer terror. Her story about Sunflower had him... oddly angered. He didn't think he could abandon a clan mate if they needed help, but if it was only him involved in any sort of confrontation... he could only imagine himself running.

"I'll help anyone who needs me," He added softly. "I'd like to avoid using claws and teeth if I can though. I don't just not like fighting, I hate it. I know why you killed the fox, but after I thought about it I... I don't know if I would have wanted it dead." He could remember the empty look in the dead predator's eyes as it's lifeless shell laid there surrounded in a pool of it's own blood. It had made him just as uneasy then as it did right now.

"I'll fight if I have to, but I don't want to kill anything if I can avoid it. I'll kill prey to feed myself and others, that doesn't bother me, but I've done a lot of thinking when I wasn't talking. Death is so final whereas life is so full of possibilities. It feels wrong to take someone's future from them if you don't have to." He was quiet again for a few moments, but it was obvious he wanted to say more. He was afraid it wasn't appropriate. He stared at Smokefeather as he tried to form the right words. A few times he opened his mouth just to close it again. Talking had become easier for him than before, but his voice would still leave him from time to time. There were times he really had to focus and force his voice to come back to him.

"Is it okay to think like that? I watched dad kill those Asylum cats and he didn't even flinch. He wasn't even afraid to die... I saw it in his eyes when he was telling us goodbye. Would he think I'm a coward?"

"It's alright to loathe fighting. Wanting to resolve things peacefully if you can help it is a good thing, and I get not wanting to kill things unless absolutely necessary. Taking a life isn't something that can be undone or healed." Smokefeather mewed. "It might be necessary sometimes, but even so, that doesn't mean you should enjoy it."

"Primroselight hates it just as much as you do, I think. Even light sparring with her used to be an ordeal, she'd do anything she could to get out of it. But in the end you've both fought when those you cared about were in danger." Primroselight had hated it, probably more than even Sunflower did, if Smokefeather had to guess. But Primroselight also wouldn't hesitate to leap in and defend someone if she had to, she'd seen that first-paw.

"Your father would do anything to protect his family, regardless of the consequences to himself. He rescued Adderflare from the flames when we had to leave our territory, the pair could hardly walk as we made it into twolegplace. He took on a dog that had to be at least five times his size while we were there because it attacked Wolfstar, who was still deputy then. All he had for backup was me, and half-grown Beechpaw and Dawnpaw at the time. It was, quite possibly, the dumbest thing I've ever done, but I wasn't about to let him fight that beast on his own." Dumb or not, it had saved the clan's deputy at the time. "He cares about our lives far more than he cares about his own."

"He wouldn't think any less of you for not wanting to take a life when you don't have to. He's not like the rogues, to kill without cause or attack unprovoked." She finished gently.

Her words were a comfort at least. He didn't spend a ton of time with Bloodstrike before this mess. Primroselight didn't like fighting either but that seemed fitting for her. She was always so nice... he had enjoyed spending time with her on the few occasions that he had. Bloodstrike, Dawnhawk, Beechface, his mom and Wolfstar fought a dog together? He didn't think he could do that. Maybe he could... but he certainly would have headed for the nearest tree if he ever saw one on his own. He let a few moments pass by before he opened his mouth again.

"Dawnhawk doesn't know I can talk yet." He pondered an idea around in his head for awhile before he decided to ask his question. "Should I talk to him? Do you think I could convince him to send these cats away? I know he brought them here but maybe he has regrets now?" He didn't know what else he could do. If his clan couldn't fight all of these cats off... then maybe the only way to solve the problem was by talking. He'd had Dawnhawk talk to him before, but he had never spoken a single word to his older brother... what if he did?

"I'm not sure if it would be a good idea, honestly. I don't know if it would help at all, and I fear that he'll only double down in this stance that this was for the greater good." Smokefeather replied, wishing she could say something that was more certain. Something that might have been comforting. Yet when she looked for something, her paws came up empty on this matter.

"Your sister and I ran into a porcupine while out hunting a few days ago, our escort was perfectly happy to sit and watch us chase it off. To me that only confirms that these so-called Asylum cats aren't here with pure intentions." Beechface had been furious, of course, and had muttered some vitriol about Dawnhawk and the rogues that now occupied their camp. Even Primroselight seemed genuinely upset over the situation, though the usually upbeat she-cat was loathe to outright say anything negative, even now.

Despite his mother's warning, Copperfox felt that he needed to do something. Fighting wasn't an option, though he was far more okay with that than he would have liked to admit. All he had was his voice. He had noticed that the Asylum cats would assist with hunting but didn't seem keen on assisting with fighting predators. He knew they could. They wore predator skins.

"I don't know what else we can do. Does Wolfstar have a plan?" He glanced around himself quickly to make sure none of these cats were in earshot as long as he spoke quietly. Maybe it was Wolfstar that Copperfox should have a talk with. He was willing to help in whatever way he could, but he didn't know exactly what to do.

"I don't know, but he's just as furious as the rest of us. That much seems obvious, at least." Smokefeather knew the dark tom well enough to read that much, even if he seemed to be compliant for the moment.

"There's no privacy with these rogues everywhere, either." Smokefeather lowered her own voice, conscious and unhappily aware of the shadowy figures lurking below. At least in the trees it was harder for them to pick up on the conversations of the Skyclanners, but that meant little when their every movement was watched so closely.