Your Past Is Chasing You [c]

Henpaw ran like the wind. Usually the feeling of her fur being ruffled by the wind was more than enough to calm her, but not today. She pushed her limbs to the limit, feeling a grim satisfaction as they began to burn. No matter how fast she went, she couldn’t outrun her thoughts. The calico skidded to a stop, looking upon something she’d heard of but never seen. Asylum’s camp. Abandoned, run-down, but a formidable and foreboding presence hung over it. Henpaw swallowed. A true WindClan warrior wasn’t afraid… but she was cautious. She hoped desperately her mother wasn’t here.

Henpaw had known something was wrong since the battle, since her mother disappeared. She had said nothing to Timberpaw, not even when he asked. How could she? She didn’t know… oh, StarClan, she didn’t know! More deadly than the thought of death was the thought of cowardice, of disloyalty, of… her mother. Tawnyflare. She-

…

Henpaw had heard of the old rogue camp just yesterday sunrise. Immediately she thought of her mother. She’d checked the barn, Fourtrees, everywhere she could check without breaking the Warrior Code. She could’ve asked her father, but… she was going to get the truth. Something inside her said her mother had not died that night, under some SkyClan cat’s claws. Fawnstep would have told them, regaled them with the tales of a brave warrior who sacrificed herself for the Clan. Henpaw had set out just after daybreak, no explanation given and none needed. She was her father’s daughter, always out hunting for the Clan. But… was she her mother’s daughter? Was that something to be proud of, or-

Shame. She could take pain, blood, gore, anything but shame. Her paws faltered as she looked out, on her last chance for answers. Did she want answers? Stars. She didn’t know. But no true WindClan cat turned away out of fear. Henpaw straightened her spine, set her paws firmly on the ground, and walked in. She quickly caught a scent of something, too faint to tell more than the species. A cat. Most likely a she-cat, but she wasn’t sure. She followed the scent, nose to the ground, but her paws, ears, and eyes scanning for danger. Danger. The truth was dangerous, but good. She needed it, and she needed it now.

She had gotten a few visitors since coming to stay with Otrera, but this one was the least expected. Stepping out of the shadows, Raisha was left facing a smaller version of herself. Her daughter had come to find her after all. So why was she not thrilled?

"Since you are here, I am going to assume you are Henpaw now. I hope you did not come expecting to bring me back home. It would be such a shame to come all this way only to return empty-pawed. Or maybe you came to stay? It is a bit of an inconvenience, but I am sure we could work something out if you so wish? I cannot say it is as comfortable as the camp, but it is home. I quite enjoy the lack of barriers, myself. You might just come to enjoy it. Come, follow me, I can show you around, introduce you to Otrera, even."

Raisha turned, and was about to lead the way further into the camp, give her daughter a tour of where she had grown up, but realized that as she was walking, she was not being followed. Turning around, she gave Henpaw a rather questioning look. "Well? Aren't you coming?"

As a form appeared out of the shadows, Henpaw whirled around, claws at the ready. It was a familiar form, a familiar voice, one she remembered, one she had hoped to never see or hear again. She was here. S-s-she… was here… Stars… Henpaw’s throat closed up and her paws began to shake. Sudden tears gathered in her eyes, eyes the exact shape and color of the aunt she never knew. She… her… despite being prepared for this, her brain refused to comprehend the scene before her. Her… her mother… was… a… “Coward!” The word exploded out of her before she could help it. She meant it, though. She wasn’t sad. She was furious. “You don’t have the strength to be a Clan cat! You abandoned us like a coward!” The shame… she could feel it, like it was a bird perched on her shoulder. It was always going to remind her of the cowardly, disloyal blood that ran in her veins. “I care not if you cared about us,” (that was a lie, through and through, but… it was a lie she wanted to believe.) Her paws shook, but her teary gaze never faltered. “But you deserted the Clan. I- My mother, a cat I idolized, is a disloyal coward. Did you even think about what would happen to your kits? DO YOU EVEN CARE?!?” She didn’t know what she was saying. She was furious, but heartbroken, and a small part of her did want to follow her mother, a small part that would be thoroughly exterminated when she had the strength. Her paws shook violently. “D-d-don’t… don’t you care?” She whispered, heart slowly shattering. Tears streaked down her face. She took a hesitant step forwards. Her mother had to care. For perhaps the first time in her life, the need for love and care triumphed over her ideas and worldview. For a moment, she was a kit again, seeking reassurance and acceptance from her mother. Tawnyflare held her heart in her paws, and if it broke, Henpaw’s world would follow.

Letting out a sigh, Raisha sat down, looking Henpaw in the eye. "You're right. I could never be a Clan cat. Despite it supposedly being my place of birth, it was never my home. But to call me a coward? That is where you are wrong. I am not running away from anything. I am not afraid. But there is something that I desperately need. Something that I can never have in a Clan. To remain there would only hold me back. Your father knows very well how much I hate restraint. Perhaps that is why he did not stop me. He knew I needed this."

She chuckled at the thought of Fawnstep. He had understood her more than most. And he had accepted it all the same. He would be a cat she would always think fondly of because of that.

"I am sorry, Henpaw, that I was not the cat you believed I was. I told Fawnstep I would not be a good mother. He told me that I did not need to be. Even when SkyClan had come, I would sooner be in the fight then hiding away in the nursery with you and your siblings. And of course, Ryesnap made quick note of that. He is the one who implored me to leave in the first place, making me realize how unfit I was to be a warrior. But despite all of that, do not believe for a second that I did not care."

“L-liar,” Henpaw stammered, wanting to believe but facing the reality. Her mother didn’t care. She left them in the nursery, where that monster attempted to get at them. If it hadn’t been for Ashfall, Henpaw would be dead. Her paws shook. Her paws shook. Her eyes were so full of tears she could hardly see. Her throat was constricting, her fur bristling, her fear scent washing over her. She wasn’t afraid of any physical thing, but shame… the disloyal blood that ran in her veins, the knowledge that her mother had willfully abandoned her… and her siblings, and her Clan. Henpaw didn’t know how much more of this she could take. “A-Ashfall nearly d-died protecting us. You were out… having fun. The blood of a disloyal traitor runs in my veins, but I can say this truthfully.” She couldn’t. She couldn’t. She wanted her mother, but… her mother was…she couldn’t… .”I-I-I am n-not m-my m…o…t…h…e…r…’s d-daughter.” Henpaw took a step backwards, shaking. “Y-you are n-not my mother.” At last, she couldn’t take it any longer and turned, fleeing across the moor, for the first time in her life running from something. Something that couldn’t claw her or bite her, but pained her all the same.

Shame.

She would come back, when she had the strength. This would be her test, her trial. She would come back until she could stand with a straight face and say it. I am not my mother’s daughter.