Heart of Darkness [Massive Solo/COMPLETE]

The river had carried Dawnhawk for miles. At some point, the pale tom had given up trying to fight the water. His was freezing and his muscles were both too cold and too fatigued to respond much anymore. At some point (he didn't know how long) he ended up only a fox-length from the bank with ice preventing him from moving any further downstream. Weakly, he dragged himself to the bank and out of the water and flopped onto his belly. He thought he heard monsters... was he close to the thunderpath? Dawnhawk's eyes closed and he lie there, ready and willing to let the darkness take him. He'd lost everything. He had no power over anything anymore. With the Asylum gone, the scars on his shoulder were meaningless and he wouldn't be able to hold the deputy position at Skyclan anymore either, not without the threat of the Asylum's wrath to keep order. Tornpaw and Waspkit were likely going to be banished... or destroyed if Skyclan saw it fit. Honeycomb would be forever shamed for having kits with a traitor. Living was pointless.

The sound of tires on gravel became loud in Dawnhawk's ears, but he didn't even so much as stir. The icy water had stopped much of the bleeding from the fresh wounds on his neck, but they were still red and angry looking. Some sort of warm pressure wrapped around his body. His eyes eased open and he saw that a twoleg had picked him up in it's paws. If he'd had the strength, he might have lashed out in surprise. Alas, all he could manage was a weak mew in response. The twoleg said something to another twoleg next to it. Dawnhawk watched as one of them pulled a layer of pelt off of themselves and quickly wrapped it around him. They shook him, drying him off to the best of their ability, but a shirt (not that Dawnhawk knew what this was) could only get so much water off of a medium-haired cat. Dawnhawk was carried into the monster. He didn't even so much as struggle.

It was... hot inside the monster... Is that why twolegs liked being in their bellies? There was a sensation of moving forward... and Dawnhawk understood that the monster had began to run with the twolegs and himself inside of it. What are you twolegs doing? Put me back... He found a tiny bit of strength to struggle, but it was hopeless. The twoleg's pelt held his limbs steady. He wasn't sure how much time had passed as he stared blearily at the insides of the monster, confused by it's lack of teeth or tongue or anything that normal animals had. Eventually, the twolegs pushed the monster's belly open and took him back outside. They rushed him into a twoleg nest that smelled of many cats... and dogs too.

Dawnhawk was laid on a smooth surface and his focus began to fade in and out.

---

They wrapped him in proper towels and dried him off as rapidly as possible. He was cold. Too cold. He might not make it. The silver-fawn colored, medium-haired cat would probably need warm IV fluids or even a warm water enema to stabilize. The vet staff worked quickly. The cat was too weak for anesthesia, but he was also too weak to protest any treatment they might need to give him. A does of antibiotics would be a good idea too to prevent upper respiratory infection as well as to help fight off whatever infection the fresh wounds on his neck may bring. The slashes were deep and would scar, but not so deep that any major veins or arteries were in any danger. He would need neutering at some point if he was ever going to be adopted out, but for now, their focus was on stabilizing him and getting him warm. They dosed him with a mild sedative as well, for when his strength returned, the last thing they needed was a feral cat to start biting and scratching anyone.


Some time after, it looked as if the cat would do fine. He had stabilized quickly. His heartbeat and respiratory rate was normal. His temperature was only slightly low. Now all they needed was for the two boys that brought him in to either take him back home or find a home for him. They had saved his life, perhaps they would want the cat... if he was adoptable at all. Most feral cats of his age weren't. The vet had suggested just putting him down when he first came in, but the boys insisted that he be saved, and so he was. The cat began to stir and the vet staff watched him. They were ready to restrain him with more towels if needed. As it was, he was wrapped up like a fly in a spiderweb save for his head. The IVs had already been removed. If the boys decided they wanted him, then they would schedule a neutering for a later date. Risking putting him under anesthesia today might prove to be too risky. He'd need to be observed for a few days at least.

---

He wasn't sure what had happened. He had gone in and out of consciousness as the twolegs converged on him. For the longest time he felt nothing... but then almost as if waking up from a dream he felt almost entirely normal save for being utterly exhausted. He was warm, his vision had returned to him and his mind was no longer foggy aside from being tired. He looked at his surroundings, all unfamiliar and alien things compared to what he was used to in the forest. Things were either incredibly shiny or flat and matte. He wiggled in the thick, warm pelts that the twolegs had given him. He was bound fairly well, unable to get his limbs where he wanted them without great effort. His stomach felt sour... what did they do to him? The same twolegs that had picked him up from the river then entered the giant den that he was in.

One of them slowly reached out a paw and made noises with his mouth, though the tone was far from threatening. They want me as their kittypet... Dawnhawk realized, though the thought didn't exactly fill him with joy. He'd never seen a kittypet, but he'd heard about them. What pitiful creatures they must be to have a twoleg do everything for them. Still, he knew he wasn't in much of a position to fight with twolegs. The twoleg's paw gently stroked Dawnhawk's head and Dawnhawk just watched him do it. It was an odd feeling... similar to how when he was very very young when Smokefeather licked the top of his head. It had been so long since he'd received any sort of affection from her though. He relaxed, knowing he wasn't in any immediate danger from these twolegs or they would have killed him already.

The next thing he knew, the twoleg picked him up, pelts and all, and tucked him to his chest. Some language was exchanged to other twolegs and then away they went, out the door and back into the belly of the monster. The twoleg stroked Dawnhawk's head the whole time... and Dawnhawk didn't have the physical nor mental strength to challenge him.





Dawnhawk was taken inside a twoleg nest. He immediately picked up the scent of another cat... though something was wrong with it. Is that what cats smelled like after they had visited the so-called "Cutter"? He never saw it though. He was taken into a separate chamber and set in what had to be the softest nest in existence. A shiny stone containing warm, wet food was placed beside him as well as a shiny stone filled with water. There was a box of tiny, gravel rocks not far as well. And just like that, the twolegs shut the wall behind them, trapping Dawnhawk in it. He lie there for several moments and took in his confusing surroundings. Kittypets lived like this? He couldn't deny the incredible softness of the nest he was in... and it was strangely the perfect size for him. Dawnhawk then began to fight his way out of the thick pelts, though he was immediately aware of the temperature change once they were off of him. On shaky legs, he moved toward the bowl of wet food. It certainly smelled good... but at the same time it was so foreign to him he wasn't how sure he'd be able to keep it down. With a little hesitation, he tried it, gingerly lapping at it with his tongue at first.

Actually... not horrible. It wasn't fresh-kill, but it was far from gag-inducing. He ate most of it, leaving about a quarter of the food left, before his hunger had been satiated enough for him to explore curiously. The ground felt different... it was almost as soft as the nest the twolegs had put him in. Not to mention it was completely flat. How?? Twolegs were odd creatures. There was a block of... soft material that he could easily jump onto. He cleared the height of the bed (no idea that's what it was) with one easy jump and immediately began to sniff all over it. It smelled a lot like twolegs spent a long time here... like the warrior dens did. This was where they slept? Twoleg lives are easy too... how do they survive if they live like this? Not to mention they somehow brought food to him apparently without killing anything... maybe? They're closer to being true gods than Starclan ever could be. The thought satisfied him somehow. There was a power more powerful than Starclan... and it was twolegs.

It was then that the door creaked open a bit and squeaked, alerting Dawnhawk that he was not alone again. A twoleg peaked in, made some sort of soft noise, and just stared. Dawnhawk couldn't help himself. An instinctual fear rose up within him and his back arched. His fur bristled and he let out a low growl in warning. The twoleg opened the door slowly and stepped inside of it. There was something in it's paw... something that actually smelled pretty delicious. They're just going to keep feeding me... I need to make sure I don't get too comfortable. He knew from his experience with predators that his fear was irrational. The twoleg was not going to hurt him. He took a deep breath and slowly crept forward to get closer. Taking a leap of faith, he gingerly took the morsel from the twoleg's fingers. It was dry on the outside and chewy and moist inside. It must have had a lot of fat in it, because the taste was heavenly.

And just like that, the twoleg disappeared again, leaving Dawnhawk alone to ponder what had just occurred.




A few days had passed since Dawnhawk was brought to the twoleg nest. There was some sort of commotion going on just outside the room he was in that woke him from his nap. A twoleg hastily opened the door and dropped him off some food before swiftly spinning on it's heel and closing the door... almost. The next thing Dawnhawk knew, the twolegs were gone, leaving out the front of their nest. He got to his feet and approached the door that was mostly closed, but not actually closed. A crack of light was visible between the door and the wall. Curious, Dawnhawk hooked a claw into the crack and pried the door open. What lie before him was the rest of the twoleg nest and a barrage of different smells. Twoleg food, twoleg foot coverings, etc. But what caught his attention the most was the immediate scent of the other cat that he had yet to meet. He inhaled deeply and parted his jaws, trying to pinpoint the other cat's location. He couldn't even tell if it was a tom or a she-cat.

He silently stepped out of his room and pricked his ears forward to listen. There was a light jingle coming from further down a hallway that Dawnhawk followed. He didn't get far before a room to his right opened up, bringing him the scent of different kinds of food. Less concerned about a kittypet, Dawnhawk turned into that room instead and approached shiny stones similar to the ones that his food was typically put in. He hovered over it, though this food was different. It's scent was not as strong and... he licked one of the round morsels gently. It was dry. Airplaning his ears on either side of his head, Dawnhawk took a few steps back and away from it. That wasn't something he wanted to touch with a fox-length long paw. Another jingle... and it was louder. Dawnhawk dove under the table immediately and hunkered down flat behind one of the legs.

Time to see this kittypet... He was like a statue, practically blending in with the tile below him. The jingling gave away exactly where the other cat was... and finally a light brown and white colored tom... that had to weigh as much as Bloodstrike except he was shorter than Dawnhawk... waddled his way into the kitchen. Dawnhawk watched, mildly repulsed by the largeness of the other cat. This is what happens to cats that don't have to hunt their own food... Suddenly, Dawnhawk wanted nothing to do with the wet food offerings the twolegs had been giving him. No... it was time to try to leave. The fat tom approached the food bowl and began to eat, not caring at all that the food was dry. Not to mention that he apparently had no sense or suspicion that Dawnhawk had even been there. Do kittypets not use their noses???

At one point, Dawnhawk thought he might have wanted to talk to this kittypet... but now that he finally saw him he wanted nothing to do with such a pathetic looking creature. He finally stood up, no longer interested in hiding himself. Even then... the fat tom didn't realize he was not alone. Dawnhawk glanced down at a ball by his feet. It had something shiny inside it it looked like... He nudged it sharply with his toe and sent it rolling... and jingling which he did not expect... towards the kittypet. Finally the tom looked up from his food and noticed Dawnhawk standing there.

"HOLY MOLY!" The tom yowled, stumbling backward and rolling to his feet several times. He fluffed out his fur, making him look impossibly massive on tiny stubs for legs. "WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!" He backed into the wall behind him with an audible thud! Dawnhawk could only stare and try to hold back his laughter. It didn't work. He was so shocked by the kittypet's reaction to him that he sputtered out a laugh before he gave up on holding it in. Even to himself, Dawnhawk cackled obnoxiously loud. "DON'T YOU LAUGH!" The tom spat, though his fear scent reeked. "THIS IS MOCHA'S HOUSE BOY!"

"Mocha?" Dawnhawk asked, again trying to stifle a laugh. "Is that one of the twolegs' names?"

""NO IT'S MINE!!! The tom bellowed, bringing another round of snickering from Dawnhawk. The kittypet had had enough. He charged forward with a growl in his throat and made an attempt to swipe at the strange cat. Dawnhawk effortlessly sidestepped him... then merely kept side-stepping to stay on the fat tom's side. He was too wide to do much more than just spin haphazardly in a circle trying to catch his opponent.

"Hold still you coward!" Mocha hissed, though he was already beginning to tire. He sounded like a freight train when he breathed. "Fine, Mocha, whatever. Calm down, kittypet! I'm not here to hurt you." No sooner than Dawnhawk got done speaking that Mocha suddenly changed direction... and apparently didn't take into account that he had made himself dizzy. He took another swipe at the pale cat, but missed by a considerable distance and staggered to stay on his feet.

Dawnhawk sighed and leaped from the floor, to the side of a counter, then kicked off of it with his powerful Skyclanner's legs and tackled the larger tom. He didn't know what he was more surprised by... how squishy Mocha was or the blood-curdling caterwaul that erupted from the fat tom's mouth. It was enough that Dawnhawk had to pin his ears back and retreat from the shrill noise.

"OH ENOUGH! I'VE BARELY TOUCHED YOU!" Dawnhawk yowled at him. Mocha lie there, panting as if he had run for days. At least him needing to catch his breath meant he was going to be quiet for a moment. "Listen you mouse-brain, I just want to get out. I don't want your food or your nest or anything... just tell me how to leave." A few moments passed of Mocha huffing and puffing, staring at him suspiciously. Finally... the round cat rolled over onto his belly and stood slowly back on his feet.

"Why in the world would you want to leave? Mouse-brain?? How smart could you possibly be if you'd rather go back outside than stay here?"

So I don't end up like you... Dawnhawk thought, but he wasn't interested in fighting with the kittypet anymore. "I have family back in the forest. I want to get back to them." Suddenly, Mocha's expression went from suspicious to downright horrified. His fur bristled again and he backed all of the way up against a wall.

"You're a... a forest cat??" He asked, just before his eyes darted around the room as if looking for an escape route.

"Yes, I'm from Skyclan... not that it matters to you. I don't care about you or staying here... Now again... tell me how to get out."

"Savage! You're a savage!!! You're the worst kind of cat!" Mocha was nearly in a full blown panic. Dawnhawk had been called a savage plenty of times before... by other cats that had been in the asylum. He didn't like the word. He had grown very tired of that word... His growled low in his throat as a warning.

"Don't call me that again unless you want to fight for real, kittypet." He let the tension in the air linger. Mocha didn't respond aside from a tight lipped nod. He looked down a hallway and then nodded for Dawnhawk to follow.

Mocha quietly lead Dawnhawk to the front door and slipped outside using a cat door, though Dawnhawk had no clue what that was. Easy enough. He moved to follow after Mocha, attempting to push through it as he had just seen the other tom do... except the cat door didn't budge. He tried again pushing harder this time. Nothing.

"Mocha!" Dawnhawk growled. He backed away from the door... only to see it miraculously open for the fat tom.

"What? Are you coming?" And back out Mocha went... and the door closed behind him. Dawnhawk stared, confused, then tried it again. Again.. the door wouldn't budge. Frustrated, Dawnhawk threw himself against the cat door... only to bounce right off of it.

"I don't like your games, kittypet! Open this thing!" He spat. The door opened and allowed Mocha through. Dawnhawk might have torn into him right then... if it wasn't for the look of genuine confusion on his face.

"I'm not doing this on purpose!" He insisted, his voice a higher pitch. "Maybe it only lets me through..."

"Well that doesn't help me!" Dawnhawk's tail lashed back and forth furiously. He eyed Mocha for several seconds, trying to understand why the door only let him through.

"Just wait for Dane and Leonard to come back." Mocha suggested. It took Dawnhawk a moment to realize he was probably talking about the twolegs. "You'll have to be quick but maybe you can run by them and get out that way?" The kittypet cringed, fearing some kind of wrath that Dawnhawk didn't quite feel the need to give him just yet. It was a sound plan B... but he didn't like it.

"Fine..." he agreed reluctantly. He spun on his heel and jumped on the nearest, highest thing he could find. That happened to be the back of a couch. He flopped down on it with a huff, his tail still lashing. A few moments of tense silence passed between him and Mocha. Eventually, the kittypet decided to speak.

"Thank you for not hurting me..." He squeaked meekly. It caught Dawnhawk off guard enough that he stared at Mocha in surprise. ...Thank you..? "Sure... don't mention it..." He then went back to staring aggravatedly ahead. Kittypets were weird...



Needless to say... Plan B did not go as planned. One of the twolegs came home after a few hours with paper bags in their arms and Dawnhawk bolted for the door... All he got for his attempt at freedom was a shoe in the face and sore nose.

"Oh... ow. That's happened to me a few times. Are you okay?" Mocha asked, which immediately got an angry look from Dawnhawk. The twoleg closed the door quickly and looked over Mocha the way a medicine cat looks over a clanmate for injuries. Obviously Mocha was fine, as Dawnhawk never even unsheathed his claws when dealing with the kittypet earlier. The twoleg calmed down quickly while Dawnhawk swiped his paw over his nose a few times trying to rub the soreness away. A moment later, the other twoleg came in through the door, but much more carefully after the other one yelled something to him.

"Sorry... it looks like you'll be here for at least another night." Mocha said as he sat on the floor and received a pat.

"Outstanding..." The pale tom replied with a huff. It had already been three days... now it seemed there would be a fourth. A twoleg tried to reach out and touch him, but Dawnhawk wasn't in the mood for it. He dodged the twoleg's paw and trotted away under a nearby table for cover. At least the twoleg seemed content to give him his space. He slumped to the floor and tucked his paws underneath him as his brain buzzed with different ideas on how to get out. Mocha of course... had no intention of leaving him alone to his thoughts. It surprised Dawnhawk when the tom approached him... apparently entirely at ease over such a short period. Any cat in Skyclan would have taken ages to trust an outsider... Something Dawnhawk was very familiar with.

"Since you're going to be here for awhile... maybe we should at least... get to know each other a bit?" The fat tom plopped his haunches down and stared at him with hopeful amber colored eyes.

"Okay..? What do you want to know?"

"Your name... at least?" Mocha sounded unsure. It was only then that Dawnhawk realized that he had never introduced himself beyond tackling the kittypet earlier.

"Oh... It's Dawnhawk." And then he went quiet and waited for more questions. Mocha paused too... perhaps expecting something more. When Dawnhawk didn't continue talking, he spoke again.

"Okay... could you maybe... tell me about forest cat life? I'm sure you have some very interesting stories! What is it like out there?"

"It's horrible, it's hard and it's cruel. Nothing like the easy life you have, Mocha." Dawnhawk shrugged, thinking that would be enough for the kittypet. Alas, Mocha shook his head and whipped his tail once.

"Oh come on... tell me real stories! You can even start at the beginning of your kithood! I don't care! You're not wrong about my life, Dawnhawk. It's easy but it's boring. Will you please just entertain me a little? I'll leave you alone after, I promise!" Mocha sounded almost like a kit... and this was the first time Dawnhawk felt like an elder despite being younger than the tom in front of him. It was an odd feeling... but as a small shiver of excitement ran down Dawnhawk's spine... he found it was not an unwelcome one. He sighed, but he couldn't quite keep the smile off of his face.

"Okay fine... but don't interrupt too much or I'll lose my focus." Dawnhawk warned him, and Mocha nodded his head excitedly.

Throughout much of that night, Dawnhawk told Mocha everything... well mostly. He certainly made him seem like a lot less of a villain than he really was and entirely skipped the part about Featherkit's death. The twolegs had turned out the lights and gone to sleep long before Dawnhawk had finished. Mocha stared, wide-eyed and silent, though at the point Dawnhawk claimed ot have helped his family kill a dog, he saw a flicker of disbelief in his eyes.

"Oh you did not kill a dog..." Mocha chuckled.

"I did kill a dog! I wasn't even a year old yet." Dawnhawk insisted... and he couldn't help but sit up a bit straighter. Mocha rolled his eyes, but aside from that didn't interrupt much aside from asking an occasional question. Dawnhawk eventually got around to telling him about the asylum and how he became their Standard Captain. He allowed Mocha to part his fur a bit so he could see the scars that were otherwise hardly visible as proof. The pale tom couldn't help but admire the kit-like innocence that Mocha still had... somehow. Maybe the life of a kittypet was so easy that they never needed to actually act like adults.

By the end of it, Mocha started to grow on Dawnhawk. The fat old tom was an oddball... but he did have a certain charm to him as well.

"Wow... Some parts of your life sound terrifying... and heartbreaking... I'd hate to ever see a fire up close like that. I could smell it in the air when it happened but I never saw anything. Still... if I were younger I'd love to leave this life behind and experience at least some of it. I guess I'll just have to be content with telling your story to my sister's kits."

"Your sister's... kits?" Dawnhawk had to wager this tom was definitely passed his prime by now...

"Oh she's a lot younger than me... and apparently was good enough to become a breeder. I wasn't. But anyway, she should have some on the way soon and I still get to see her on occasion. She gets let out of her twoleg's nest too... or so she says. I bet she escapes." He shrugged, clearly not concerned that his sister might be in danger when she leaves the house. Dawnhawk didn't want to tell him. It would be one less thing for the older tom to worry about.

"Well... now that you've told me something interesting, I have something interesting to tell you.... but please don't be mad at me." Mocha suddenly looked... incredibly guilty. Dawnhawk stared, but said nothing. "I can get you out of the house... pretty easily." He smiled a sheepish grin that immediately had Dawnhawk narrowing his eyes.

"You kept me prisoner for a story?"

"My life sucks! I'll be honest, I have no regrets. Not even if you maim me." Mocha's voice sounded far less concerned than it should have been for the words he was using. Dawnhawk's tail tip twitched, but he didn't say anything. Fair enough... He followed Mocha back to the cat door and the brown and white tom leaned himself against the door just beside it.

"It's open, go!" That was when Dawnhawk saw it. There was a green light blinking on his collar... Was that how he got in and out and Dawnhawk couldn't? It was odd twoleg magic... but Dawnhawk didn't hesitate. He threw himself against the cat door and found that it opened immediately. He was on the other side in an instant and the scent of fresh air hit his nose. He hadn't even realized how stuffy it had been inside the twoleg nest until now.

"Thanks Mocha!" Dawnhawk called to him from the other side of the cat door. "I won't hold this against you I suppose."

"Just remember to come back sometimes! I enjoyed our talk!" He heard him reply. Dawnhawk couldn't help but smile a bit. Maybe he would come back... eventually. For now, he needed to focus on getting back home to Tornpaw and Waspkit.




Dawnhawk hadn't realized just how far the river had carried him. He was in practically another world... a part of the forest that no clan cat had seen. The lack of cat scent had been both relaxing and unnerving at the same time. The pale tom traveled through a small portion of woody suburbs and followed the scent (and eventually sound as he drew closer) of the river. Once he saw which direction it was flowing, he simply followed it upstream. If he judged the river's position correctly, then he was already on the Skyclan's side of it. What he hadn't expected was how long it actually took him to get anywhere near anything familiar to him.

Three days passed while Dawnhawk traveled, easily sustaining himself on prey and hiding from predators in odd places such as hollow logs and even an abandoned badger den at one point. He knew enough time had passed that he was highly unlikely to still be the deputy of Skyclan... if even part of Skyclan at all at this point. The breeze blew toward him from the north... carrying the scent of Skyclan spruces and a tiny tiny hint of Skyclan border markers. The Asylum scent was no more... Dawnhawk's traveling pace slowed from a traveling canter to an uneasy trot as he drew closer and closer towards the territory. His heart beat faster in anticipation of running into a cat that he knew... What would happen to him now? It was unlikely that Beechface or Smokefeather kept their mouths shut for this long...

What if they told Tornpaw what I did to Featherkit? What if she believes them? What if she hates me? The thought hurt his stomach, but he pressed forward anyway. What other choice did he have? The night came by the time he'd made it to the edges of Skyclan territory... the tiny part of the river that bordered it. Patrols had been through recently... there was absolutely no sign of any Asylum cat anywhere.

I'm alone... The realization hit him harder than he thought it would. He always had a hope in his mind that the Asylum would have re-organized and kept control... alas... that didn't appear to be the case. His eyes traveled to the moon to gauge when the next gathering would be. He had no doubts journeys to the moonstone had been made in his absence by all of the clans at this point. They had no reason not to.

"Dawnhawk..." A voice called from a treetop and the pale tom whirled in response to face it. He was in an immediate fighting crouch when he spotted Bloodstrike  climbing down from a pine.

He had been waiting.

"Bloodstrike." Dawnhawk acknowledged him and actually managed to keep the nervousness out of his voice. Why he was nervous he didn't want to think about... because Bloodstrike was far from being in his top form. He could not allow his guilt to overtake him... or he might not fight at his best either. He expected a flurry of claws and teeth despite not being actually within Skyclan territory just yet. Bloodstrike wasn't a cat known for giving two rat dungs about Starclan or the rules. Yet no attack came... and Dawnhawk couldn't bring himself to strike first. The giant tabby stopped about a fox-length and a half away from Dawnhawk and just stared for several tense heartbeats, his stoic features as always, betraying nothing.

"You've been gone awhile. We were convinced that you were dead. Some will be disappointed that you are not." Bloodstrike's tone was unreadable and that was the most frustrating thing about this cat. Dawnhawk was a master manipulator, but only if he could gauge what the other was thinking. Bloodstrike wasn't about to allow it.

"Oh, I imagine. What about you?"

"I am neither surprised nor disappointed," Bloodstrike said simply. He licked at his exposed fang, which suddenly brought Dawnhawk's attention to hos wretched he actually looked. He'd known his father was doomed to suffer nasty injuries the instant he tried to fight back against the Asylum but this... This was still a shocking change that Dawnhawk had had no time to get used to. He only knew Bloodstrike by his voice, his pelt pattern and color and the fact that he was ridiculously gigantic for a cat. Other than that he would have mistaken him for a striped, mangled lynx. "News was brought to my attention the day I returned to camp. Do you have any idea what that news may be?" Bloodstrike asked. Dawnhawk's heart skipped a beat and he desperately searched his fa- ... Bloodstrike's face for emotion.

Nothing.

"No," Dawnhawk lied, smooth as silk and cool as a cucumber. "But I bet you're about to tell me." An uneasy silence passed between the two before Bloodstrike answered. The tabby was searching for emotion just as much as Dawnhawk was.

"I can forgive a lot, Dawnhawk. My scars mean nothing to me. I will eventually get used to not having my tail. I am determined to get over my nightmares and this mysterious pain that I am constantly in unless I am rendered nearly unconscious by poppy seeds. I can forgive your betrayal of Skyclan in my understanding that you never felt like you fit in much and needed the support. I can forgive nearly anything if it's for my kits." Bloodstrike's voice was as calm as ever, but Dawnhawk inwardly flinched and gnashed his teeth together. He couldn't tell for certain, but he felt that Bloodstrike was very deliberately telling him all of the pain and misery that he had sentenced his father to. He knew Dawnhawk felt guilty and the pale tom couldn't conceal it from him.

"But what I can't forgive..." Bloodstrike's voice finally choked. A wetness suddenly shined in his eyes. Dawnhawk's fur bristled and his heart wrenched. No no no no no no no no no no! He suddenly preferred not being able to read Bloodstrike's emotions. The last thing he wanted to see was Bloodstrike break... the last thing he wanted to hear was that his worst fears had been confirmed.

"...Is when they kill eachother." Bloodstrike forced himself to finish and hot tears flowed freely down both sides of his face. Dawnhawk's vision blurred and he held his breath as if that would force his own tears to stay inside his head where they belonged. He blinked... and that was obviously not the case as his own ran down his face too. He dug his claws into the dirt and continued to hold his breath. He couldn't speak... if he did, he would make it worse.

"Please tell me you didn't do that... Please tell me you didn't kill your sister. Please tell me you're upset because of the way I look and not that. Anything but that!" Bloodstrike's voice had turned into a strained growl. His claws unsheathed and his fur bristled. Dawnhawk finally drew breath and swiftly swiped a paw over his face to clear the tears. He would need to be able to see if there was going to be a fight.

"And who told you this?? Was it Smokefeather? Was it Beechface? Did you get the whole story or just the part WHERE I SNAPPED?" Dawnhawk hadn't meant to yowl out his last words, but a rush of air was forced from his lungs that he couldn't control. Stars curse it all! I should have prepared more for this! But the truth was, Dawnhawk could never have prepared for this. Not in a million moons.

"STARS CURSE YOU, DAWNHAWK! YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE THE DECENCY TO DENY IT?" Bloodstrike bellowed back and sank into a crouch. The two toms began to circle each other slowly.

"I don't deny it! I don't!" Dawnhawk growled back, finally forcing his voice to get back under control. He needed to focus or he was going to get hurt. "But I didn't just run up into the nursery and start killing! I went in there to convince Smokefeather to cooperate with me! I just needed her support since so many looked up to her. The Asylum and the clan weren't getting along as well as I liked, but I was so close to unifying it... and she just..." Dawnhawk's voice caught in his throat and only spit flew from between his teeth. His body locked up and his jaw clenched. Surprisingly, Bloodstrike stopped advancing in his circle too. He was at least listening... that was more than what Dawnhawk had hoped for.

"She just told me that she wished she had killed me when I was a kit! She basically told me that she regretted having me and that if she would have just killed me, things would have been better! Why? WHY BLOODSTRIKE?! WHY DID MY OWN MOTHER SAY THAT TO ME???" It had been moons since he referred to Smokefeather as his mother... and it tore open the same inner wounds that she had created when she first said the words. Dawnhawk's legs shook and his claws gouged the earth beneath him so hard that they ached.

Bloodstrike just stared and more tears ran down his face. The open gap in his lip seeped slobber as his stress increased. He didn't even bother to try to wipe it away or get it under control. There was no point until he could calm down.

"Smokefeather would never say that!" Bloodstrike insisted, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. That one weakness and hesitation was all Dawnhawk needed.

"She did! She told me there was some kind of warning sign when I was born... that I was the last one and I caused her the most pain even then... what warning was she talking about? You would know! But I wouldn't remember... what was she referring to?" He managed to get his voice under control again even if the tears continued to flow. He'd gotten some leverage... even if it was the truth as well. Bloodstrike's gaze seemed to search some far away place for a moment as if he had trouble remembering... but then a flicker of realization flashed in his eyes.

They were immediately clouded by pain.

"Monsters had had a fight or something on the thunderpath... a handful of warriors and I went to go look after I was sure Smokefeather was going to be okay and... I think the monsters that were alive were howling. I've never heard them make that noise before... but I remember the smell of fire and blood... I guess that's what she was referring to..." It was clear that Dawnhawk wasn't lying this time and the truth that Smokefeather must have told him all of that hit Bloodstrike like a thundersnake. All of the rage that he had had just a moment before had died and was replaced with confusion and sorrow. With Bloodstrike at a loss for words at this realization, Dawnhawk continued to speak.

"I regret what I did to Featherkit. She didn't deserve that! I hate myself for it... but I was so hurt and so enraged that my mother would say that to me that I just..." He paused and shook his head, refusing to continue to the sentence. "But Beechface! She would take anyone's side over mine any day. She always has! Even when I fought a rogue she-cat that had attacked simply because she was my sister... she never defended me. So she attacked me to save Smokefeather of all cats... so I had to fight her off too. The only thing I could do to cover my crimes was kill my guard and blame the whole incident on him. I can tell you that I am not sorry for any pain I have caused Smokefeather or Beechface. They're both fox-hearted worms and they deserve it! But Featherkit... I'll always regret that. For the rest of my life I will carry that guilt!" Dawnhawk plopped his haunches down hard onto the ground. A tense moment later, Bloodstrike followed suit.

Both toms went quiet and poured their emotions from their eyes. Neither of them looked at eachother, but instead, stared at the ground below them lost in their own world of painful realizations and memories. A time passed that neither tom kept track of before Bloodstrike finally swallowed and took a breath. Dawnhawk refocused his gaze on him, waiting.

"You are no longer welcome in Skyclan. Wolfstar has decided it. If you are caught inside the territory you are to be killed on sight." Bloodstrike's voice was lower than normal and a bit shaky, but otherwise, fairly calm.

"I want to see Tornpaw... I want to see Waspkit and Honeycomb too. And Ashstorm... I need to talk to her."

"No."

"I won't go inside the territory, just go get them for me!" Dawnhawk stood as Bloodstrike spat at him.

"No! Dawnhawk you are never seeing them again!" The tabby was on his feet again. "I could never kill you Dawnhawk. I don't care what Wolfstar orders me to do! Besides... I think it's more fitting that you live apart from your mate and your kits as I had to when I was locked away in Fourtrees!" Bloodstrike growled, dropping his head low and sinking into a half-crouch. "Your punishment from me is forcing you to feel that pain! To live through this torture! And after everything you've done... I hope it destroys you!" Even as the words left Bloodstrike's mouth, he felt like his soul was being crushed. Dawnhawk was stunned into a shocked silence. Bloodstrike's words cut deep... too deep for Dawnhawk to even cry anymore.

Heartbeats passed and all either tom could do was stare at each other. It was finally Bloodstrike that broke the silence.

"Go away Dawnhawk. Don't return to Skyclan or you could end up looking like me." The giant tabby turned away and stalked quickly back towards the Skyclan territory. He had a lot to digest... and a very very big and painful decision to make...



~Will be continued in a thread that I will link >>>HERE<<< when created~

OOC: If you actually read all of this, thank you for reading! <3

This solo is done. Just bumping it for those to read if they wish to see what happened to Dawnhawk. This thread ends a week after the liberation topics.