mother dearest; [closed]

The threat of impending war weight heavily on Lichenblaze's shoulders as he entered camp, finishing a night patrol. He'd been meaning to speak with his mother about... everything, frankly, and now was just a good of a time as ever. Before I get killed by Dawnhawk or something, he thought dryly, beelining towards the elders' den. Just as he was about to greet Smokefeather, he halted. He should probably bring her some food first.

Sighing, he turned around and plodded over to the fresh-kill pile and grabbed a quail, then plodded back to the den. The mottled tabby warrior pushed his way inside, greeting Smokefeather with a chirp before placing the quail at her paws. "Figured you could use something to eat. Uh, hi, sorry we haven't talked in a while, scat's been...well, you can probably guess how it's been." Lichenblaze plopped down beside her, pressing up against her flank like he used to do as a kit. "I wanted to catch up, Ma, see how you're doing. I've got a lot to talk about, honestly..."

Smokefeather lifted her head as Lichenblaze entered the elder's den, world-weary expression cracking into a smile at seeing her son. They hadn't talked much recently, and Smokefeather understood that she was partly to blame for it. She... hadn't exactly been pleasant company for a while, now.

Her eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of the quail, though Smokefeather hooked it with a claw and pulled it towards her anyways. "Thanks, Lichenblaze." He didn't need to bring her fresh-kill, she wasn't incapable of getting it herself, but Smokefeather did appreciate it. Lichenblaze settled against her side, like he used to do as a kit, and Smokefeather smiled softly, nuzzling the top of his head.

"Things have been... Difficult, I know." She mewed, "How've you been?"

"I've...been," he sighed, curling up even more. He did his best to be a strong warrior and not show any weakness, but if he didn't tell someone how he was feeling, he was sure he would explode.

Gathering his thoughts, he took a look at his pelt. His fur was dull and lifeless, as were his eyes themselves. He didn't look great, and he didn't feel great either.

"Ever since I went on that patrol with Dad, to chase after Dawnhawk...and seeing Tigersong, y'know..." he shuddered, "I haven't been sleeping well. I keep reliving it in my head...I dunno what to do about it. I'm so tired, Ma...And then Dad went and did scat with that other molly, Briar-whatever. I understand breakin' up after all that Asylum foxdung, but...not that. A deputy, having a forbidden relationship and getting her pregnant? Now I'm stuck with one of the little brats, Newtpaw. We...really look a lot alike. He reminds me of me, too much." Lichenblaze pressed his cheek into Smokefeather's thinning fur.

"...I don't hate the kit, really. I just...am so scared he'll make the same mistakes I did. And I don't wanna wish that on anyone." He sighed heavily, breathing in his mother's scent. It calmed his thundering heart for a moment, cleared his head a little.

"...I needed to talk about it. Thanks for listening. Y'think I should see Beechface about the no-sleeping thing?" Lichenblaze murmured, moving to rest his chin on Smokefeather's back. "Anyway, anything you need to dump on me?"

Smokefeather winced at the mention of Dawnhawk, and Tigersong. Poor, sweet Tigersong, who had committed no crimes except for being a loyal Skyclan warrior. "You're not the only one... I'd give anything for this to be a non-issue. The clan will catch him eventually... Maybe." Smokefeather wasn't overly optimistic, however. Dawnhawk knew what he was doing, and he knew exactly how to hit Skyclan where it hurt. Skyclan couldn't go on like this forever, but neither could Dawnhawk... She hoped.

"Briarthorn is welcome to him, that's her problem now." Smokefeather shrugged. Really, it was better that way. She'd tried, and had been tossed aside like a rotten piece of fresh-kill. Bloodstrike was better off without dealing with her baggage, and she was better off not worrying about whatever trouble the deputy managed to get himself into.

"Newtpaw, was that his name? Someone thought it would be cute to stick him on elder duty... Punishment for both of us, really." She was being contrarian, she knew. Smokefeather shook her head and sighed. "He... Doesn't seem like the worst sort, at least. It's not his fault his parents are... that." She mewed. Some of her children were certainly more upset about it than Smokefeather was.

Lichenblaze's voice grew hard suddenly. "Don't say maybe, Ma. We'll catch him, we have to."

Sighing again, he settled back down against her fur. "Yeah, I guess. Still don't like how he treated you. I've basically ignored Briarthorn, but from what I've seen, it doesn't even seem like she likes Dad. I guess that's what he deserves, huh?"

He fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. Smokefeather spoke the truth, it wasn't the kits' faults that they had parents like that. "...No, you're right. I shouldn't be so hard on him. I...should probably talk to 'im about that..."

Lichenblaze's tone grew hard, and maybe he was right. Skyclan would catch up to Dawnhawk, or Dawnhawk would get to them first... But at what cost? He'd done enough damage, and Smokefeather was, quite frankly, tired. Tired of watching her clan and family hurt. Tired of what seemed like a pointless goose chase. Her ears flicked back, both at the thought of the abomination she'd raised and at Lichenblaze's moving on to speak of Bloodstrike and his new she-cat.

"Sounds like his problem." Smokefeather shrugged in response to her son's commentary on Bloodstrike and Briarthorn. She didn't care... Or so she told herself. "They made their nest, let them lay in it." She didn't know Briarthorn at all beyond her name, and Smokefeather would be okay if that was how things stayed.

"Your sister is upset with their presence at all, I think. If those kits are loyal to Skyclan and do what's asked, I suppose we shouldn't have a problem with them." Smokefeather didn't think she needed to specify which of Lichenblaze's sisters was upset. Beechface had never been shy about her opinions, and normally this aggravated Smokefeather. Still, she had the right to be angry, though it most definitely wasn't helping ease tension at all. "Is training going well, at least?" It seemed like only yesterday that Lichenblaze had become an apprentice, but here he stood, a warrior in his own right and with an apprentice of his own. He'd grown fast, and Smokefeather wondered at where the time had gone.