Den of the Fox [Copperfox]

Beechface's pawprints stood out in the snow as she trekked through the territory, pointedly ignoring the shivering rogue that struggled to keep pace with her quick strides. She couldn't make out much of the rogue's appearance beneath the fox pelt the rogue wore, and that was fine. Beechface did not care to know of the rogues any more than she already did.

The clouds overhead promised even more of the white stuff to fall later, and Beechface had carefully managed to harvest a bit more tansy and coltsfoot from a few sheltered spots to take back to camp. That would be the last she'd be able to get for a while, as the frost and snow was going to kill much of the growth that had managed to come back after the fire that had ravaged the territory in greenleaf. The plants would grow again, but for now the clan would have to do with what she'd managed to stockpile. If she had to, twoleg gardens were an option, but Beechface was wary of them and didn't trust the rogues to have her back in such places.

Beechface was making her way back to camp, though her path was deliberately meandering and indirect. It was both to check on what plants were clinging to life in the snow and cold weather, but also, Beechface found herself enjoying the obvious misery of the rogue that was trailing her. Her own fur was long and thick, and her rough pawpads and large paws had little trouble as she made her way through the snow.

Copperfox was blessed in the same way that Bechface was as far as long fur went. He was perfectly comfortable and warm despite the snow and the wind. He was out catching prey, almost with a blank look in his eye as he did so. Hunting had come just as naturally to him as breathing... as long as it wasn't in the trees. He had caught so many already that instead of burying them, he had used his unwanted company as a pack mule. A few squirrels were laid out across one of the Asylum cat's back that followed him around and another on the other side of him carried a few mice by their tails.

As usual, Copperfox was completely silent on the way out and on the way back to camp. As he neared the edges of camp, a quail bolted from one bush to the next just in front of him. Without having time to think, he only reacted and shot his claws toward it. He pinned the quail down easily and dispatched it swiftly. Saying nothing, he brought it over to one of the Asylum cats and more or less shoved it at their face. Grudgingly, the rogue took the quail by a wing and Copperfox turned abruptly on his heel to continue his journey. It was at that time that he spotted Beechface carrying herbs back. She was a few fox-lengths away, but they were headed in the same direction.

It had been awhile since the last time they spoke, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to him anymore. Not typically being the one to start a conversation, Copperfox merely let his coppery eyes wander back out in front of him. If she wanted to talk, she clearly had no trouble starting a conversation... or butting into them.

The member 'Tara' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 7

Noise drew Beechface from her thoughts, and she looked up to see her little brother catching a quail. "Nice catch." She mewed. Like her, he had an escort, though where hers was shivering in abject misery, his were carrying a fair amount of prey. Beechface highly doubted that they'd caught the prey themselves. A faint smirk tugged at her maw at the thought of the rogues being used just to carry things. It was all they were good for, really.

Not that she'd trust any of them to carry herbs without damaging them, regardless of what Iniko said about them having healers within their ranks.

"Copperfox..." Beechface began awkwardly, then paused, unsure of what to say. Would Copperfox want to talk to her after that argument? Her words hadn't been aimed at him, but he hadn't been thrilled that she or their other siblings had intervened, but Beechface had thought that was more because he'd wanted a one-on-one conversation with her littermate. Claws scraped the snow as Beechface sifted her weight, glancing over at Copperfox.

"Look... I'm sorry about... The other day." She said after a moment, unsure of how to continue. Foxdung, why did apologizing have to be so awkward?

"Nice catch." Beechface said to him. Copperfox stopped in his tracks and stared at her, saying nothing. She started to speak again, apologizing for butting into his and Dawnhawk's conversation. With that, Copperfox felt a decent amount of his bitterness on the subject melt away and he gave her a shrug.

"I mean, what's done is done. I'm not as mad anymore but... you know I still have trouble talking. I got so used to the silence that I find more comfort in it than I do with speaking." He glanced at the Asylum cats that were now focused on their conversation. Whatever... he didn't plan on saying anything that they didn't need to hear at this point.

"I'm sorry too. I really just wanted to fix things. We can't fight Dawnhawk, sister. We can't. I hoped negotiating would be the answer but now..." The opportunity was gone. He didn't say it out loud but he didn't feel like he needed to at this point. "Do you think Primroselight is still mad?"

"Yeah... I know. I hadn't intended to interrupt either but..." Beechface shrugged unhappily. She'd saw red at Ashstorm's words, something that was usually reserved for Dawnhawk.

"I've never seen Primroselight angry before. She's... furious, but not with us. Dawnhawk and I would always fight with each other and usually she'd be the one trying to get us to stop, not go off at others herself. Still, she was always the optimist trying to see the good in others." A smile, more of a grimace crossed her expression. "She's more hurt than she's letting on, I think." Their talk after the fight in the medicine den had all but confirmed as much, but it wasn't Beechface's place to tell that to Copperfox.

Copperfox listened as Beechface spoke and his eyes went to the shadow that he cast across the snow. He was searching for words to respond with, but they didn't always come easily. What was there to say at this point? If she wasn't his sister, he may have just nodded and carried on about his day, but he would give his siblings more effort than he would most cats.

"I didn't get to know Dawnhawk like you two did. Ashstorm didn't either. I guess I'm less hurt because I never had a set expectation for my older brother... and I think Ashstorm is the same. I hate when everyone's temper flares, even mine, because then words get said that are better left unspoken. Sometimes the silence is good, important even, when your emotions twist what you are meaning to say." Copperfox had a feeling this may be awhile, so he hopped up onto a charred, snow-covered log beside him and sat. Beechface was welcome to join if she wanted.

"I think we'll get out of this, whether we take back our clan and our home, or whether we become part of the Asylum. We're alive and we will continue onward, in spite of what others might try to tell us." Copperfox noted the Asylum cats shifting uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye, but he paid them no mind. The thought of fighting Dawnhawk made him uneasy, fearful even, but if it came down to that what choice did he really have? He wouldn't win. He knew that. But it didn't matter. The fact that he was alive and could make his own choices still was enough.

"What if my words would have worked, Beechface? What if I convinced Dawnhawk to try to work against the Asylum? Let's just say he actively helped us take back our home and we won. In the end... what does he get out of it? Would he still be an outsider and a traitor? I think the outcome of that possibility would determine whether or not I could have swayed him... maybe even now I still can. It's just going to be a lot harder now."

"I never had expectations for Dawnhawk, really." Beechface commented dryly, carefully brushing over a dry spot between a crack in the fallen log, setting the herb bundle down before her gaze turned back to Copperfox.

"We fought once near the Thunderclan border, while we were apprentices. He was getting cozy with some Thunderclan she-cat and I asked him about it... Maybe I was a little antagonistic." She admitted. Looking back, she'd been more than a little antagonistic, really. The stupidity of youth. Yes, that was it, truly. With a huff, the medicine cat leapt up to the log and sat beside her younger brother, tail twitching.

"Either way that argument seems so trivial now. He leapt at me with claws unsheathed. That he'd be willing to do worse isn't... as much of a surprise. He hates Starclan, dad didn't care for them either, and I think they're full of it half the time, honestly. But I draw the line at harming our own clanmates. If he truly just wanted the clan to abandon Starclan and the Code like he's been claiming, there were better ways of going about it." Half of the more important members of the clan were already there, at least in part. Between the fire, and the losses that just kept piling up, who would blame anyone for not having faith? Beechface certainly wouldn't.

"Ashstorm was his apprentice. I can't blame her for wanting to be friendly with him, I suppose. I think Dawnhawk and I have only had maybe one or two interactions where we were truly civil with each other. I'm not exactly unbiased when it comes to disliking him, though I can see where others might be more willing to listen. He knows how to talk others into what he wants. As much as I hate admitting it, I think he could have easily been made deputy if Wolfstar hadn't chosen dad." Even as she said it the words left a sour taste in Beechface's mouth. When Dawnhawk wasn't being a piece of foxdung, he could be likeable. That day they'd gathered herbs stuck out to her, one of the few times she hadn't felt the urge to claw his fur off at his mere presence.

"I think if words had been enough to dissuade him, things wouldn't have gotten to this point in the first place." Beechface sighed. "I'll be the first to admit that I lash out in anger. I know mom has been avoiding him so she doesn't wind up saying something she thinks she'll regret. Maybe there's a point to that. But I can't just sit there and say nothing, either."

Copperfox digested the words that Beechface had given him and his eyes stared skyward. He hated Starclan so much... and he had been through a lot. Maybe he did have reason to hate them, but Copperfox agreed that there had to be another way to go about doing things. He himself didn't know what though, as his first interaction with Starclan had been the most comfort he'd had in quite awhile. Was this all really just a game to them, as Dawnhawk claimed? He didn't think so. There were darker forces at work here... there had to be.

"Sometimes words are the best choice of action and sometimes silence is. We're the opposite in more than just our pelts, it seems." Copper and silver pelts... whereas Dawnhawk wore the gold. That didn't seem to make him any better of a cat though. "It's easy for you to speak and hard to keep quiet. I'm not sure I will ever know what that's like." Maybe he didn't want to. Words, once they were said, were never able to be retracted. Silence however, could always be broken.

"I think what I hate most about this whole mess is... I am forgetting what dad actually looked like. I've gotten used to his absence to the point my memory of him is fuzzy. I wish it weren't like this. If nothing else I'd like to convince Dawnhawk to let our dad come home. I think he'd know how to help mom. He'd know how to talk Dawnhawk out of doing all of this..." But would Bloodstrike ever submit to foreigners? Probably not... and therein lied his fault.

"You're right, I suppose. We're... pretty much opposite in that way." Beechface offered her brother a tight smile. She'd thought that Primroselight had been her opposite, but the pointed warrior had little problem with speaking her mind, Beechface was beginning to realize. Though Primroselight was usually more tactful, a skill Beechface was lacking. She wasn't so self-absorbed that she couldn't admit it.

"Iniko and Dawnhawk seem to think that dad will submit and be allowed back but I'm not sure. He'll break before he bends. If he thinks his family is in danger, he'll fight without a care for his own safety." It was a trait they shared, wasn't it? Her thoughts strayed to twolegplace, and the monster of a dog that Bloodstrike had leapt on without hesitation. Here Beechface was, trying to cling to the idea that the rogues and Dawnhawk could be driven out. Refusing to stay silent despite better judgement. That the rogues so outnumbered Skyclan was beyond frustrating.

"I hate how this happened. Things were starting to settle after we'd reclaimed our camp and got rid of those foxes. I hate being powerless to prevent any of this."