Lost Along the Way [Wolfstar]

((OOC: takes place before Bloodstrike's leader ceremony.))

The sun was slowly sinking toward the treeline, and Beechface stretched out near the elder's den, glaring sullenly at the trees edging the far side of camp. Her ears twitched with the movements of clanmates and small snippets of conversation that floated her way on the wind, though the surly medicine cat had no real desire to join in.

Her single eye narrowed ever-so-slightly at the sound of approaching pawsteps, ears flicking back as they padding towards her rather than continuing on their way. She knew without looking that it was Wolfstar, and a low, rumbling growl started in her chest. She had even less desire to speak with her grandfather than she did most others right now, especially with his featherbrained decision-making.

Maybe he'd get the hint that she didn't want to be bothered, but Beechface wasn't so optimistic. He'd never been the most observant of cats.

It was clear that he wasn't welcome, by Beechface's posture, and the growl rumbling in her chest, but Wolfstar was beyond humoring his granddaughter's temper tantrums, anymore... he had things to say, and not a lot of time to say them. "Don't take that tone with me," he said, only the barest hint of humor coloring his words. He sat down, across from her, and dropped the sparrow he'd been carrying by the wing, at her paws. "I have a question for you. Can you stand my presence long enough to hear me out, granddaughter?"

Beechface's head whipped around to glare at Wolfstar as he spoke, anger smoldering in her gaze. "Oh, you have something important enough to tell me now?" Her tail lashed once, though she made no move to get up and face him. She wasn't sure her claws would remained sheathed if she did.

"Spit it out, then, Wolfstar." Now he called her granddaughter? After spitting in her face repeatedly? He was family just as much as Bloodstrike and his half-bred mongrels were.

Though his eyes narrowed at her response, Wolfstar remained otherwise perfectly still, surveying her with the same steady, affectionate gaze that had watched over her since the day she and her siblings came into the world. The two of them had had their disagreements, but recently the good days between them had been outnumbered by the bad, and Wolfstar couldn't stand to do what he had planned without trying to make amends.

"If you're done with your outburst," he chastised, and then paused, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he sighed lightly, his ears slanting to either side. For a moment, before him stood the small, fluffy, eager she-cat who had once been his apprentice... the one who was desperate to be a warrior, to serve her clan... and then he blinked, and she was normal again, scarred, not just physically, from battles she should never have had to fight.

"Beechface, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "For everything. I know I have been a poor mentor, and a poor leader, and it seems like I've punished you unfairly, more than once, but..." he trailed off, searching for the words. "Nothing I've ever done has been borne out of mistrust, or dislike of you. I need you to understand that." Suddenly sad eyes softened on her face. "I know it's been rough for you. I know I've contributed to that more than I'm proud of. But SkyClan would be worse off - by a lot - without you. So, thank you. My words may mean nothing to you right now, but I have to tell you. I'm proud of you, and I am going to-" he cut himself off suddenly. He'd been about to tell her he was going to miss her. "I'm going to make it right. If I can. Can you trust me, again? Please?"

'If you're done with your outburst.' Beechface bit back another growl, frustration flashing in her eyes as her ears flattened. It was her fault, wasn't it? Him, Bloodstrike, even Smokefeather she was pretty sure... At least Newtspring had understood, eventually.

She was prepared to just get up and walk away. It would be easier than losing her temper like she did with Bloodstrike in the middle of camp. She was so tired, tired of all of this. She was sick of being chastised and snapped at for things that weren't her fault. If Bloodstrike and Wolfstar didn't have their heads shoved so far up their tails they might actually realize that.

Wolfstar continued speaking before she could move. She'd been expecting him to continue to chastise her, maybe poke the bear and get offended when she snapped, like Bloodstrike had. They hadn't said a word to each other since that... conversation shortly after Wolfstar had confined her to camp. The anger and frustration in her expression shifted to confusion, though her ears remained flat against her skull and her tail flicked with uncertainty as he spoke.

"You weren't a poor mentor..." Poor leader? Yes, absolutely. A blind kit could see that. It had sure taken him long enough to admit that, and the damage had already been done.

He continued to speak, and Beechface stared at him, not quite sure she could believe that claim. "Then why?" She asked finally, "You don't communicate, Wolfstar, you've never communicated. You spring surprise decisions on everyone without a word, and you've always expected me to be perfectly fine with it? You did it during Asylum and you did it with the Shadowclanner. You never punished her or Bloodstrike for breaking the code, and Bloodstrike says it's because of you that he gave... what'sherface a warrior name after she nearly got me killed, but Newtspring and I were confined to camp for speaking up? What reasons could you possibly have that aren't because you don't trust me?"

"You and Bloodstrike-" Her voice cracked, and her gaze dropped to her paws, not that that would hide the tears, "-neither of you are the cats I looked up to once." It hurt to say, she'd known it for a long while now, but it didn't change the fact that it hurt. "What can you possibly think you can do to make things right?" She doubted it, it was obvious. But how could she not when that claim had always led to disappointment?

"There's nothing I can do to fix what I've broken, Beechface."

Wolfstar's voice was solemn and knowing, and his unwavering gaze fixed on the medicine cat with a look that he hoped conveyed even a fraction of the guilt that was eating him alive from the inside. "I just needed you to know that it was never you... and it was always me. I didn't want to put the burden of leadership on anyone else's shoulders. Not yours, not Bloodstrike's. I thought I could do it myself, and it would spare you two, but the reality is, I was wrong, and in my desperation to prevent you both getting hurt, it just ensured you did. I alienated the cats who meant the most to me and it is my biggest regret."

The dark tom hung his head, ears flat against his skull. "I would understand if you never forgave me," he continued. "It's no less than I deserve." Wolfstar sucked in a breath, steeling his gaze. "But I need you to try and forgive your father. He's going to need you."

"That's exactly what you wound up doing." She huffed, "at least he wanted this." Beechface sure hadn't, something that had only ever grown more apparent with the passage of time.

Forgive Bloodstrike? Maybe before their last argument there had been a chance. After that disaster?

"Need me?" Beechface sneered, derision in her voice, "The last time we spoke, he threatened to kick me out of the clan for speaking the truth. He got angry with me because I didn't try to kill Dawnhawk when I was still recovering... You know, because he hasn't nearly killed me twice when I wasn't already injured and could hardly move." She was desperate to cling to that anger and ignore the hurt she felt at that. "Ravenclaw needs me, Muddythorn thinks he needs me, though I have nothing left to teach him. Bloodstrike doesn't, he's made that perfectly clear."

"I know that, Beechface. I know that." Wolfstar's tail thrashed, once, before he stilled it, and he shook his head, the frustration bubbling out of him in a half-wheezed snort. "But you know your father as well as I do, and you have to realize that he's following the same path I tread." The dark tom rose to his paws, pacing in a short line and then turning to repeat it. He paused briefly to stare at her, trying desperately to force her to understand by sheer force of will alone.

"He needs you Beechface. I know because I needed you, and I was too stubborn and proud to admit it. I paid for that. SkyClan paid for that." His voice lowered, and he stared, silently, for a long moment, finally falling back to his haunches with an exhausted sigh. "You paid for that, and I cannot take any of that hurt back. But I can prevent it from happening again. We can, if you trust me enough to try. I know it's hard to let go of that hurt, but, please, Beechface, try."

Beechface winced internally at Wolfstar's words. "Well at least two of us can admit it... How exactly are we supposed to be preventing this from happening again? It's been seasons of this, Wolfstar." Seasons, and Beechface didn't see how the cycle was supposed to end. Skyclan leadership was doomed.

"Really? I had no idea." Beechface muttered, tone drier than the forest had been before the fire had swept through. It was obvious, and had been obvious for a long time. "I'm not sure what you think I can do to help him. He hasn't listened to a thing I've said since he returned." She was stubborn, but so was he. And it seemed like every time they talk only ended in more arguments. Beechface wasn't sure they could patch things up, not after that last miserable fight.

"You speak as if something being difficult has ever stopped you from trying it, anyway." Wolfstar snapped, perhaps a little harsher than he intended. He turned, tail slapping the ground once as he struggled to contain his frustration. His gaze softened as it landed on her. "Beechface, you are the single most stubborn, bullheaded, determined cat I know. You get it from your father... and he gets it from me."

He kneaded his paws into the ground, seeking an outlet for the boiling-over emotions. "It's not a bad thing. In fact, I think it's what's kept some of us alive far longer than we deserve." Wolfstar's voice was gentle now. "Just try. I'm not going to be here forever, and when I'm gone, Bloodstrike will need you, in one form or another," he gave her a knowing stare. "Just be there."

Or come with me. His heart throbbed with grief at just the thought that he may never see her again, after he left. "I know I'm not supposed to pick favorites, Beechface... but... you've always been my favorite. Just know that, no matter what our relationship is, to you... for me... even though I'm terrible at showing it..." he trailed off with a weak smile, and then got to his paws, starting to turn away. "I won't keep you any longer."

"I had kits with Wrenspring, I killed that idiot Windclanner, and should've taken the rest of her lives while I was at it. I've broken the code more times than I can count, all we do is fight anymore and that's led to you losing lives of your own... And I'm the favorite?" Beechface snorted, Wolfstar had well and truly lost it. That was the only explanation.

"I can't heal stupidity, Wolfstar, we both knew he won't last long." She doubted Bloodstrike would stay leader for long when Wolfstar finally joined Starclan. He was brash, he was hot-headed. He was dumber than a rock with no regard for his own safety, let alone that of anyone else. "You're being awfully insistent on this, what are you doing, grandfather?"