Diamond in the Rough [Sapphire]

The elder's den was horribly, horribly quiet with Cloudmane gone and both Foxfire and Wrenspring in the medicine den for the time being. On one paw, Smokefeather felt lost. The den had never been so empty while she'd been relegated to it. On the other paw, it was just as well that they not have to be woken by her own nightmares. The medicine den was crowded, but at least there was hope that it was a bit more peaceful than that.

Regardless of how Smokefeather looked at it, the deep-laden sense of guilt that wracked her persisted through it all. Visions of the fire, of foxes, of Bloodstrike and Flowerthorn and Featherkit's tiny frame being thrown into the nursery wall interwoven with the latest scene of gore and destruction that she'd arrived to a few days prior had left the elder shakier than usual, and it took her several attempts to make it to her paws without stumbling. The den had been cleaned thoroughly, all the nests made fresh, but the scent of blood still lingered in the air and Smokefeather couldn't be sure if she was imagining it or if it was real. She needed to get out, needed fresh air. She wasn't sure how long she'd laid in her nest trying (and mostly failing) to simply steady her breathing, but the sky was still dark as the thin elder limped from the den on shaking paws.

Smokefeather sat a distance away from the den, dull gaze dropping to the ground in front of her as she panted. Her fur had taken on a dull and patchy quality after Featherkit's death, and while she'd been better at keeping it somewhat neater in recent moons, the signs of stress were obvious. It was thin and ragged, in some spots downright brittle, and if that wasn't a reflection of Smokefeather's current emotional state, she wasn't sure what was. Blossomstep would sit with her for hours, either helping with Mountainkit or simply as a shoulder to lean on...

And she'd gotten her killed. Had gotten Cloudmane killed. Foxfire and Wrenspring, at Starclan's entrance in the medicine den. All because Dawnhawk had wanted to get to her. Bile rose in Smokefeather's throat and she swallowed, a shiver running through her as her shoulders tensed. She couldn't hunt or fight anymore, couldn't provide for the clan, and now her very existence here put them all in danger. Cats had died because of her, because of Dawnhawk's desire for vengeance.

If the clan was smart, they'd save themselves and leave her to him. With the blood on her paws, that fate was the least Smokefeather deserved.

The situation was less than ideal for the pregnant she-cat. Sapphire had accepted this group’s offer of safety, yet it seemed they were unable to protect their own. She wasn’t about to make any snide remarks, however, as their reception of the counter-attack was so foreign to the dark-furred loner that she could only watch their grieving in silence. Whatever the circumstances were, it was obviously deeply personal. She’d never seen such an outraged response except from a queen whose kits were harmed. It was moving. After all, Sapphire knew what loss was; she had never expected to find others who shared that same cutting pain.

Yet here she was, in the center of the camp that was now being cleaned and reorganized. Able-bodied cats moved about the open space, bringing prey and water to their injured Clanmates or otherwise helping in the removal of filthy bedding from one of the dens. Though the process was quite fascinating, Sapphire found herself not wanting to get in the others’ way. They didn’t need a stranger antagonizing them by watching them like a kit studying an anthill.

Movement caught her eye. One of the elders (another rank that sparked curiosity in the street cat) slipped out of the den that had been the target of the attack. She looked like she couldn’t have been much older than Sapphire, but her patchy pelt and tired expression gave away seasons of difficult living. Perhaps she would be the key to explaining… well, everything, from SkyClan’s enemy to the profound sense of loss that filled the camp like a haze.

“Greetings. I’d like to speak with you, if you’ll allow it.” The queen approached the silver-and-cream elder slowly and calmly. Cats didn’t live to be adults unless they showed some degree of caution, and Sapphire was aware that SkyClan didn’t have a reason to trust her. “I don’t know much about the Clans. Was this an enemy group? Did the cats SkyClan attacked send someone here in revenge?”

Smokefeather jumped at the sound of an unfamiliar voice intruding on her quiet thoughts, fur lifting on instinct as she turned towards the speaker. Dull eyes blinked at the queen standing before her, surprise briefly flickering across her expression. She'd caught sight of the rogue entering camp with Beechface and Wolfstar, though hadn't approached beyond what was needed to gleam the very brief basics. She'd be staying with Skyclan for now... Though Smokefeather wouldn't have blamed her if she wanted to leave and never look back after the bloody night that had occurred.

"Not an enemy group, just one rat-faced bastard, Dawnhawk. If Windclan had the time or thought to actually send him after our camp, I'd be surprised. They sheltered him, but they've always been a naïve lot." She said, voice still hoarse between periods of disuse interrupted by crying. "He... betrayed us last leaf-bare. Led a massive group of rogues to ambush us and the other clans in the middle of the night, had our deputy imprisoned for a season, took others captive... Killed a kit, tried to Kill Beechface, his own sisters. Maimed me, killed one of our finest warriors when they tried to track him down... The list goes on." The beginnings of a snarl crept into her voice, only the surface of a deep well of anger and pain that had finally begun to resurface at the ugly reminder of the monster she'd raised. "All this destruction because he wants me dead. I needed another reason to regret having kits, I guess." She'd hear it eventually, or maybe she already had and had come to see the dungshow of a mother in the flesh. As jaded and pessimistic as Smokefeather had become, she got the impression that this she-cat truly didn't know. She shook her head, a weary sigh escaping her.

"...I'm sorry, you didn't come over here to have me rip your ears off." She apologized, "I'm Smokefeather. I don't believe I caught your name...?"

Sapphire settled down into a laying position with her paws tucked neatly beneath her. She listened with growing horror and interest in equal measure, though she didn’t always understand what the other she-cat was saying. Then she mentioned her regret at having kits, and a familiar painful twinge made itself known in Sapphire’s chest. “No, no, not at all. I was the one who asked. My name is Sapphire. Wolfstar and Beechface have offered me shelter while I… recover.” The wound on her shoulder and her awkward gate would have easily given away her own injuries, but likely wouldn’t have drawn much attention in the midst of so many battle-scarred cats. It was her pregnancy she was most hesitant to bring up.

“That’s a lot of trouble to go through to get after you. I don’t really understand how it could get so bad, and I doubt I’ll ever really be able to grasp it completely,” She admitted, an apologetic glance flashing over her face. “But I do understand family troubles. You must be very important to him if he would go to such lengths. And you must be equally important to SkyClan if they would lay down their lives to protect you from him.” Sapphire meowed thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly to the side.

A cat with any sense at all would use everything at their disposal as a bargaining chip: prey, protection, safe passage through an area, even other cats when necessary. Sapphire had seen the rare occurrence of one cat walking another right into their enemies’ claws in exchange for prey on a particularly harsh winter night. So there had to be some kind of value to Smokefeather that wasn’t immediately obvious. Smokefeather’s role in SkyClan was yet unknown to Sapphire, and judging by the elder’s tone, it was possible even she didn’t know.

The she-cat introduced herself as Sapphire, mentioning that Wolfstar was letting her stay while she recovered. Indeed, her injuries had merely been glossed over by Smokefeather earlier. Looking at her now though, she realized the stiffness in her movements and the sharp scent of Beechface's herbs hung in the air. But it wasn't just the injuries that Smokefeather noticed now, Sapphire was pregnant, too.

"I said things I shouldn't have, after he'd taken Bloodstrike hostage and then questioned if my kits were even Bloodstrike's. He responded with claws. Feather... She wasn't even two moons old." A shudder of revulsion swept from head to tail as Smokefeather's gaze dropped back to her paws. They were trembling again, something she couldn't seem to stop. Here she was, revealing information to a stranger who had no reason to care, who Smokefeather had no reason to trust. Wolfstar and Beechface apparently thought Sapphire could be trusted in their camp, which itself was surprising. Skyclan had never been an open clan, and Beechface hardly had the patience to deal with Skyclan, let alone a random outsider.

"Maybe it's best you don't, this clan drives cats to their worst." Sapphire's last words drew from Smokefeather a sharp, bitter laugh. Important to Dawnhawk? That was one way of putting it. Smokefeather doubted she was truly important to the rest of the clan, either. "If they were smart, they'd leave me for him. He's harmed enough cats in his desire for vengeance. He won't stop until one of us is dead." Cats in Starclan and the Dark Forest held some power, too. Smokefeather didn't think Dawnhawk's search for vengeance would stop if he died. It scared her, that so many of her clanmates were put into danger time and time again for her sake. "Family will defend family, to the end. Even a crippled mouth to feed like me, apparently. At this point it's little more than their pride, I think." Why else would they defend her, when she'd burned bridge after bridge and put them all in danger?

She closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. “A mother should never have to bury her own kit.” Sapphire meowed sorrowfully. When she opened her eyes again, the blue depths were flooded with an air of gravity. “I hate brutes who raise their claws against the innocent.”

It was familiar, all too familiar. Flashing teeth. Angry eyes like ice chips. Sapphire’s blood dribbling through the neat white fur on her chest. With a shake of her head, her attention came back to Smokefeather’s face. “I’m sorry you went through that, truly. There’s nothing you could have said to deserve it. Some cats will say anything to justify their actions, but even they know the truth.” Her pale gaze wandered away. The intensity of the moment was growing too great.

“In my experience, large groups always overpower individuals. It may be that his desire for you in particular will drive him into making mistakes. He didn’t get you last night, after all. Perhaps his luck will come to an end soon.” It was a hopeful thought. Maybe SkyClan was beginning to run out of hope, but Sapphire still had at least a bit to spare.

"Really? Sometimes I wonder... I raised him, did a terrible job of it. The clan doesn't need me putting them in danger when I can't even contribute." Sapphire's words held an odd note of hope... A naïve hope that Smokefeather no longer remembered ever feeling. Maybe she never had. Maybe it was for the best to not feel such things, with how Skyclan's luck had fared the past several seasons, trying to cling to hope was a losing battle that only lead to more despair. Part of her wanted to still cling to the frail hope that this bloodshed might end one day, that she'd no longer have to watch her clanmates suffer at the paws of Dawnhawk's betrayal, but it was hard to believe in that when all Skyclan had ever known was pain.

"Sometimes I wish I shared that optimism." Smokefeather sighed, tail curling over her paws. "After everything that's happened, I don't know if it's possible."

It was clear that she was too much of an outsider to be able to offer much comfort to the other she-cat. Sapphire settled for a topic she was more familiar with. “You said he had sisters. Surely you have other kits that have done some good… or at least haven’t caused so much harm. Besides, a mother’s worth is not dictated by her kits.” Sapphire had held that sentiment close to her heart for some time now. She had to be more than that. Both of them were cats, not ideals.

She licked the fur along one foreleg, using the motion to gather her thoughts. It was time to live in the present and begin planning for the future. She was taking risks just by being in the presence of other cats, indeed, being at their very mercy. There were many of them and she wouldn’t get far with how heavily pregnant she was. “You might be able to answer some questions for me.” It was a sudden topic change, but Sapphire thought Smokefeather would like to distract herself from the gloomy topic of her son. “Truthfully, I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but it’s looking like I may not have another safe place to have my kits. Beechface said that a… hmm… a medicine cat, I think? A cat in her role helps injured cats and aids in giving birth. I’ve never seen one cat help another in either of these instances. I’m curious how she helps with birthing kits. I don’t want to bother her while she’s working so hard to help out her Clanmates.”

"I-" Smokefeather began, blinking up at Sapphire as her words sank in. "Primroselight, and Ashstorm... I suppose you have a point, they're both good cats." That Primroselight had been born in the same litter as Dawnhawk was something that would never cease to amaze Smokefeather. She was everything he wasn't, far more of his opposite than Beechface was, truthfully. And Ashstorm had a pure heart.

Sapphire asked about medicine cats next, and Smokefeather was once again reminded of how very different the life of a loner must have been from that of a clan cat. That she'd never seen cats rely on others for healing or help... Smokefeather couldn't imagine not having a medicine cat in the clans.

"Medicine cats study plants, and that knowledge is passed onto whoever they train as their successor. There's plants that help treat and prevent illness and infection, and the majority of their duty involves making sure the clan stays healthy." Smokefeather certainly couldn't imagine giving birth alone, Sagelight had saved her life with his quick thinking, and Beechface had assisted so many she-cats... Her daughter wasn't shy about not wanting the position, but she did an admirable job when it came to helping others, even if she didn't realize it. "For kitting, there are herbs that dull the pain and help stop the bleeding, and that makes things a lot easier. If anything goes wrong, medicine cats do their best to keep you and the kits alive."