I can't Sleep [Open]

Flowerthorn sat at the edge of the camp. Blue eyes that were once growing bright had seemed to dull once again after her son's death. It seemed the world did not want to be kind. First the Asylum, now this? The pale warrior watched as others moved about, their bodies filled with energy able to tolerate the world around them while she found nothing but irritation. The lack of sleep certainly didn't help either.

A soft sigh left the senior warrior. This was all wrong.. Asylum wasn't meant to be here. Dawnhawk wasn't meant to be deputy. She was angry, hatred still burned inside her about all of this. She wanted to do something but it seemed that nothing would work at the moment. What was she to do? Why did it feel like she was the only one, she knew she wasn't, but it certainly felt that way. The white she-cat shifted slightly. "Why does it feel like something is going to go wrong?" She said softly to herself. She faced all kinds of issues before so what was different here? Why couldn't she shake this anxiety that settled in her?

"...Flowerthorn?" Foxfire poked his head out of the warrior's den, blinking as he tried to locate his mate. He had managed some semblance of sleep but it hadn't lasted long and Flowerthorn had been nowhere to be seen. He knew she was a free spirit of sorts but...She had barely been in their nest since Flashstorm's death and he couldn't help but worry. He perked up as he spotted her at the edge of the camp, hurrying over as he caught her soft murmur. He came to a stop, ears slicking back as he sighed heavily.

He...Couldn't deny the same feeling. This entire thing with Asylum, it was going to go sour at some point. He hadn't been there to see the battle with The Righteous Few but he thought it was enough proof - the moment there was a reason to turn... There was going to be fighting. His heart sank, swallowing as he picked up the pace to settle at his mate's side. He didn't like the idea, he wished there was a peaceful end but...What end did Asylum want for them? The Clans wouldn't just...Accept this forever, would they? He pressed himself into Flowerthorn's side as he gave her a weak smile. "No matter what happens, at least I'll be with you, right?" he said.

It had been the vow he had made when he had told her how he felt - that he wouldn't dare leave her side. As long as they were together, he felt unstoppable. It was what made this entire thing bearable, that he had her and his other Clanmates to rely on. He scanned the camp, eying the few Asylum cats that lingered and watched. "But...I get it. This...This can't last forever, can it?"

Smokefeather's gaze swept the edges of camp as she made her way from the nursery with a quiet sigh. Looking for Asylum cats had become as habitual as breathing, the pale tortoiseshell constantly aware of them even when they did not directly approach or chose to stay hidden. She did not trust them, so she didn't let her guard down. She couldn't afford to now, not with her own kits in the nursery. They were still mostly silver-furred, the faintest traces of their true pelts beginning to show at faces and paws. Just enough that those who spent little time with them might begin to tell them apart. They were healthy, and it was more of a relief than Smokefeather could say.

That relief at her own kits' health did not prevent the anxiety that seemingly constantly churned in her gut, these days. Bloodstrike's absence was like a gaping wound, even now. Dawnhawk was the "deputy" in his place. And one of those flea-ridden rogues had attacked Copperfox. Copperfox, who would never in a million seasons start a fight. The soft-spoken warrior who hardly wanted to fight in self-defense. It made her blood boil, and yet she was powerless to do a thing to stop any of it.

A pale shape caught Smokefeather's eye on the edge of camp, and her gaze narrowed slightly. Not an Asylum cat, she realized after a moment. Flowerthorn. She'd been vocal about her dislike of Asylum and Dawnhawk, in particular, and while Smokefeather would have usually avoided the she-cat... She understood. Agreed with her, even.

Flowerthorn had lost one of her own kits recently, too. Smokefeather felt a pang of sympathy for the small warrior. They shouldn't have had to outlive their kits. No mother should have had to watch their child buried.

Unbidden, soft paws turned in Flowerthorn's direction, pausing slightly as Foxfire also approached. She caught the quiet edge of their words, and grimaced in knowing sympathy.

"Something has to give sooner or later. The clan can't go on like this." She agreed, voice quiet, the slightest undercurrent of anger in her tone, only a small fraction of the rage boiling beneath the surface. She'd raised a snake among them, and hadn't known. How could she- anyone- have been so blind?

Flowerthorn looked up as soon as Foxfire had joined her side. She could tell he was grieving just as much as she was over the death of their son. She felt some comfort as soon as he pressed himself into her side, but nothing would shake this feeling of eventual dread. Flowerthorn nodded in response to her mates words. "Right." She knew that but how long until Asylum tore them apart against their will?

Her words pausing in her throat as soon as Smokefeather joined the two warriors. The gray warrior was right in her words. Something had to give and at the rate it was going it seemed like the clan would give first. They were being attacked.. Being worn down.. They couldn't do things own their own and it was frustrating to say the least.

"No we can't go on like this.." The small warrior said. "They are wearing us down, and we are going to break.. Dealing damage to the ones who we hold dear.. taking ones that would stand up to them.." Her voice was quiet, only loud enough for those near her to hear.

All this time watching, observing, she had learned nothing except how to irritate them. They didn't like her speaking out, voicing her dislike of them, but she didn't take action and neither did they. Maybe it was time she did.. So her clan wouldn't have to live on like this.. "I have tried to figure out their weak points but no matter how much I sit and watch I learn nothing.. Except how much we are stuck right now." They needed to make moves, together but that wasn't going to happen. Not with the risks that Asylum presented.

Foxfire dipped his head in greetings to Smokefeather, before he grimaced as she agreed that this was going to go poorly sooner or later. He leaned into Flowerthorn as his  mate spoke in hushed whispers, a small cry about how they needed to stand up against them. He knew how passionately he felt about it and he could hardly blame her. Flowerthorn was never one to be kept - her fierce, free spirit was one of the things that he found so attractive in her. He wasn't much of a fighter - his few battles that had given him such deep scars had stolen that fight from him at such a young age. But Flowerthorn...She would fight tooth and claw for what she believed in, and he had to support her. "But what could we do?" he questioned, ears slicking back as he shook his head. "You just said it yourself, we don't know their weak points. I..." he winced as he gave his mate a sheepish look. "We've all lost so much already...I-I don't know how much I want to fight something that we can't...As much as we... We don't like this but at least we are..." he fumbled for words, unable to stomach even his own argument. "...I just don't want to lose any more Clanmates if we can help it."

"Their numbers are overwhelming. That alone will let them cover most weaknesses, I think." Smokefeather dearly wished that they had a tangible weakness. Were her words pessimistic? Possibly. Smokefeather was a far cry from the bright-eyed, newly-named warrior that had once gone hunting with Foxfire. How long ago early greenleaf seemed, now.

"Losing clanmates is the last thing I want." Stars, but it killed her to think of how they could just drag away anyone just for the crime of standing for their family instead of the rogues. Smokefeather continued to speak, voice dropping even further. "But if it comes down to needing to fight, what choice do we have? One cat can hold off many if they're in the trees and their opponents are on the ground, but they've shown that eventually numbers will win out."

Flowerthorn shook her head. She knew that no one wanted to lose anyone else anymore. They didn't want to take the risk but if they kept going the way they were? They would lose themselves. Asylum would take over, and they wouldn't be Skyclan anymore. They would be whatever Asylum wanted them to be. At least it felt that way to her.

The pale warrior let out another sigh. "I know.. I don't want to lose anyone either.. especially not another one of my kits... At least Flashstorm wasn't taken by the Asylum, but he shouldn't have had to live his life lock down by them either... "I'm just afraid of what is going to happen if we keep going the way we are.. What are they going to do with us?" She couldn't help the urge, the want to run out of the territory outside of their watch and get some form of help, or take action herself, but what could she do?

Dawnhawk had informants and spies everywhere. A particularly stealthy she-cat had overheard the conversation and immediately raced away to find Dawnhawk. The pale tom sighed, not wanting to cause a dirtstorm just before his children were going to be born... but his paws were forced. With a heavy sigh, he called for a number of Nightstrikers to follow him. Flowerthorn had been a problem for awhile now, but now she was openly talking of rebellion and fighting. Hopefully the she-cat hadn't twisted her words. He was about to lose quite a bit of favor with his clan... unless he played his cards right.

"Flowerthorn..." He called out calmly when his eyes settled on the group. Smokefeather... of course she had to be here. Don't be stupid... don't fight. Don't end up like Bloodstrike... With that hope in his head, his eyes settled back on Flowerthorn. "As Deputy of Skyclan I will remind you that Wolfstar's orders were no fighting between Skyclan and the Asylum." His eyes went to Foxfire and Smokefeather too, though they quickly left his mother's form. "Do you think there is anything you say that my ears don't hear? Are you so ready and willing to disrupt our peace that you'd disobey your leader's orders? Turning over a new leaf... apparently." He wasn't about to let the asylum touch Smokefeather, but Flowerthorn he'd wanted to be rid of for several moons.

Even if it wasn't her openly threatening rebellion and fighting and was in fact... his mother... he'd make an example out of her first. Nightstrikers encircled the group, waiting and watching with gleaming eyes. Hungry eyes...

Foxfire sighed heavily, having no response to Flowerthorn's question. He had no idea what was planned for SkyClan, but he just didn't see what they could even...His blood ran cold as a voice spoke his mate's name, eyes widening as he looked up to see Dawnhawk standing not far from the group - Nightstrikers filtering behind him to start to circle the small huddle. "We aren't...!" he started, before he drew back as fear started to clog his throat. His eyes darted from cat to cat, pressing himself closer to Flowerthorn. "We aren't planning to fight! I-I know its useless, we were just..." he wasn't sure if his words were making this worse. He had no plans to act on it - he didn't want to fight Asylum at all! But he wanted to support Flowerthorn and he wanted to be free and... "I-I was just venting. Certainly th-there is no crime in that? We aren't going to do anything, I-I promise!" he swallowed, eyes falling into his mate. "R-Right, Flowerthorn?"

Flowerthorn opened her mouth to speak but Foxfire beat her to it. We weren't going to do anything.. Since when did they become so afraid in their own home? Since when could they not act freely, speak freely in their own camp? Blue eyes met blue eyes. She couldn't take it anymore. She didn't want to be a prisoner in her own home. This isn't how it was supposed to be, and if it took her getting taken away like Bloodstrike for them to take action then so be it.

The small pale warrior brushed her tail against her mate, before pushing his weight off of her and standing on her paws. Blue eyes looked back at the two cats she was talking with just moments prior communicating a silent phrase. I'm sorry..

The pale warrior turned back, blue eyes met blue eyes, hers turning into a harsh glare. Flowerthorn stepping closer to the so called "deputy" aware her every movement was being watched. Every muscle tick, every tail twitch. It was fine. If it kicked her clan into gear then it will be worth it. "What? Am I not allowed to talk in my own camp now?" She growled out. Head low, teeth barred, tail lashing. She wouldn't take this anymore, no one should take this anymore. "This might be the peace Asylum wants, but this is not the peace I want. The orders are not to keep this peace, they are to keep us prisoner. Prisoner to the fox dung rogues like you, and while Skyclan still stands you will never be its deputy Dawnhawk." Her voice was threatening. She could see the rogues getting ready for what she had planned. She knew, they knew. She had a feeling everyone did, but while she might fail. Her main goal was to give hope.

She straightened out, back legs tightening to spring. "While Skyclan still stands, I refuse to be a prisoner!" She shouted out, loud enough for the whole camp to hear, at the same time springing forward bringing claws down right across the deputies face. Satisfaction filling the small warrior at the single strike she managed to land before she was swarmed by the numerous Nightstrikers that he had brought with him.

She knew. She knew she wasn't going to make it without being taken like Bloodstrike was but she wasn't going to go without a fight either. Every attempt at grabbing her was met with a bite or a scratch or a deep wound but everyone she gave them was returned. It wasn't long before she was overwhelmed and dragged from the camp kicking and screaming, blood and fur staining the ground where she once stood.

As Foxfire was gently pushed away, his eyes widen as he met Flowerthorn's gaze. No. No, no, she wasn't... No! This wasn't how it was suppose to go! He couldn't...! And yet, he stood there in fear and panic as she refused to back down. She spat, she growled - the fire that Foxfire loved her for...For a brief moment, he wanted her to back down for once in her life. Already tears were forming in his eyes as he fought with every inch of himself, if he would join her, if he would try to get her to back down one last time. But...He had kits. He couldn't leave Leaf-Frost, Mistypaw or Sparkpaw. And so he stood there, silently crying as she made a jump for Dawnhawk.

Then, she was swarmed. Something snapped within him as finally he started to move. "Fl-Flowerthorn! No! Please! You can't-!" he was cut off as one of the Nightstrikers barreled past him, knocking him to the ground. Tears raced down his face as he lifted his head - unable to find the energy to stand up. "Flowerthorn, please! I need you! Why would you do this?" he wailed, choking down sobs as his tattered ears laid flat on his head. He watched with horror as she was dragged away - blood and fur all that left as he crumbled fully to the ground and threw his paws over his head. His mate - gone. Just like that. He wanted to fight, to scream at Dawnhawk for doing this. To lash out at every Asylum cat but he couldn't.

As Flowerthorn was pulled from the camp, so to had his fighting spirit left him.

And so he sobbed, unsure of what else to do.

Smokefeather listened to her clanmates and sighed. Before she could say anything in response, someone else was approaching, and Smokefeather's fluffy tail twitched in annoyance. Of course the rogues would show up to interrupt, and of course Dawnhawk would be at their head.

"You walk around here as if you own the forest, none of us can so much as make dirt without being followed, and now we can't even talk to each other? The only one here disrupting the peace is you." Smokefeather growled, tail lashing once in frustration. Her paws remained still, however. As much as she was angry... Trying to fight them would be useless. She had kits to protect, and using violence would likely only see her dragged off to whatever prison they'd kept Bloodstrike in. The thought was almost tempting, so at least she could say that she tried to resist. So that maybe she'd see her mate... But that was insanity. And she couldn't leave her kits without someone to look out for them, they were much too young. Flowerthorn spoke then, and Foxfire, as well, and Smokefeather listened to them quietly.

"Flowerthorn, no!" Smokefeather hissed, but it was too late as she was already moving. And then swarmed. Smokefeather felt ill watching it, memories of another cat that had been swarmed by the rogues and dragged off flashing in her mind. The she-cat stood frozen, unable to move. When she finally took a shuddering breath, Flowerthorn was gone.

Smokefeather finally managed to tear her eyes from the camp entrance, gaze falling on Foxfire... Foxfire... Oh, how she knew what that was like. Smokefeather's paws moved, though they felt numb as she stepped towards the tom, fluffy tail resting across his shoulders. Stars, what could she even say to him? What was there to say, even? Anything that passed through her mind didn't make it out of her throat, her mouth opening and closing silently as she shook her head. All the words she thought of rang hollow.

Dawnhawk had been expecting an aggressive reaction from Flowerthorn, a cowardly response from her mate, and of course, scorn from his mother. They were all so predictable... and that was why they'd never succeed. Flowerthorn only surprised him by her ability to move so quickly, and Dawnhawk only had time to pull his head back enough that her claws merely left superficial scratches and nothing that would scar. Lucky for her... because he'd have had her guts pulled out and her stomach up and over her head if she had marred his perfect face permanently. The nightstrikers did their job, easily overpowering her and taking her away. Problem solved... and it was worth the annoying scratch that now glistened across his pale face.

Dawnhawk hardly reacted aside from that, looking once to Foxfire and slowly to his mother. He snorted at her remark and his ears flattened closer to his head.

"We'll be speaking soon, Smokfeather. Foxfire, I suggest you keep your kits in line as well. They won't take this news well." He turned on his heel and began to leave, with more of his guards ready to take down whoever dared attack Dawnhawk. A second strike would never happen, not now.