from where i sit [closed]

It seemed like a badger had draped itself across his shoulders, threatening to crush him into the earth. Honestly, the concept sounded so nice and simple - if the situation were real and it weren't simply the looming threat of responsibility now strapped to his spine. Leaf bare was coming and he had little experience. Previous, Stoatfur was simply one of the many clanmates that would help to scrape by through the lean season. However, not it were these lives underneath his pads. The tom looked cool and composed on his exterior, the normal neutral expression, flitting on the edge of a smirk to mask his swelling discomfort.

The warrior couldn't deny that he enjoyed telling other cats what to do, organizing, and sharpening whatever skills he could. But it did little to ease the insurmountable worry and doubt. As he called out for Minkstar, stepping up to the den at the highrock, he hardly waited to push through the frail curtain of lichen. With his tail lashing to and fro, Stoatfur stepped before the ginger tom. He paused, staring at him for a brief moment before settling back onto his hindquarters. There was no tactful way to word this, no easy way to start a conversation with the one cat who he seemed to actually trust.

"You know, Minkstar, it's very interesting how the leaves change through the seasons and eventually all fall. It only makes sense that the cold inspires them to do this. It's interesting how colorful it is despite being a sign of death."

It had been too long. Minkstar scraped his paws through the curled, dusty dregs of an old moss bed left to dry out, the brittle, browned filaments crumbling to gritty dust against his pads as he scooped it into a pile. Distant green eyes only vaguely focused on the task in front of him, his thoughts elsewhere, a quiet sense of guilt draped like a blanket over them. This place deserves someone who can fill it. But his heart lay with Bat, not some empty tomb filled with ancient whisperings of bygone leaders whose regal bearings had permanently stamped it with a lonely echo. Better to just leave it.

A sound made his ear twitch, his eyes lifting in mild surprise as Stoatfur called his name. Must've seen me come in. He welcomed him in, pushing aside a few last bits and pieces as the other came inside and sat down. Those movements slowed and hesitated, just slightly, at the younger tom's first few words. He glanced up, cocking his head, a slightly bemused smile touching his maw to contrast the thoughtfulness in his eyes. "Sure is. It's the nicest part of the forest - and one of the most annoying, if you're trying to stay quiet," He agreed, turning his gaze back to the pile for a moment and kicking a last scrap into it.

Looking up again, he settled his full attention on Stoatfur, curious. "Why're you bringing it up?"

As he waited for a response, the tom found himself glancing around the den. He'd never been so bold as to intrude on the leader's den before - not that it was ever occupied given Minkstar's devotion to being at the side of his sickened mate. It felt cold and lonely here, in a way that threatened to set his pelt on end. Stoatfur shook his coat ever so slightly to try to and dispel it, like the flecks of dust that clung to his pelt.  The first remark made his whiskers twitch. It certainly was inconvenient.

"Sure, sure, stalking is a pain this time of year I'm sure. I know I'm not too experienced, young, but I'm already thinking about what it all means... what is coming and..." Stoatfur paused. There had been a twinge of humor to his tone, one that had begun to peter out. He sighed. It felt so uncharacteristic, the honest concern bubbling up on his tongue. He wanted to flee from it and avoid the topic. But something kept him here - a deeply buried devotion to something greater to himself, one that he often forgot about and ignored.

"I'm worried, Minkstar."

The admission fell from his maw, orange eyes hardened as stone yet run through with shining flecks of emotion. His forepaw began to sweep at the earth. One claw drew circles absentmindedly as thoughts raced through his head. It was as overwhelming as usual but more focused, channeled into something specific. When Stoatfur disrupted the still air once again, his voice cracked slightly but was filled with a uncharacteristic honesty. He sighed, feeling some of the pressure lift, "I'm worried that if we don't do something, our clan will not all be fed. With our numbers, limited to the territory and diminishing prey... unless we do something, the clan is going to starve."

Although the unadulterated fear had crept in, Stoatfur was not a creature purely controlled by emotion; he had thought about this, ran it into the ground, grinding it beneath his claws. Even if he had managed to allow himself to feel briefly like a hapless kit, it was the brown and white warrior's nature to consider these things, calculate the outcome, and seek the best resolution. Despite never thinking it, perhaps there was some basis to his promotion.

The slight smile on his maw faded slightly as Stoatfur went on, and Minkstar searched his face, noting the troubled expression there and the body language. He waited as the tom fell silent, folding his hindquarters underneath himself as his own brows furrowed slightly. I have to admit, there's a lot to be worried about. The prey growing scarce, sickness creeping in.... Gently, he touched the tip of his tail to his grandson's shoulder, encouraging him to spill his thoughts.

When he did, Minkstar pursed his mouth, his eyes slitting into thoughtful - and yes, troubled - crescents. "We've been through hard leaf-bares before," He murmured. "But... I know what you mean. I can feel it, too. This one's... different." He searched around for another way to describe the slight tingling in his whiskers, the way his fur almost seemed to vibrate in the chilling bite to the morning air, but couldn't. "There isn't much we can do about it, though - unless we could find new hunting grounds somewhere, or convince the prey to come out of their dens." His mouth twisted. "I don't want to see the Clan go hungry, but there might not be anything we can do about it."

It hurt to admit that. He was supposed to be their leader, for Stars' sake. But even with all those lives stuffed under his pelt, he couldn't magically conjure food for them all.

Although it was merely the simply and fleeting touch of a tail tip, Stoatfur's coat still instinctively twitched at the sensation; he thought little of it in the moment, however. There were many questions at paw, ones that he and Minkstar were sorting though together - both as leader and deputy, and kin. There was supposed to be some reassurance in that moment but none of it came for the young tom whose mind, already burdened, was overwhelmed by the deeply seeded care for others. He dug his claws into the earth as he remembered back to a conversation the two of them had a while ago.

Stoatfur had never faced many battles or confrontations, mostly sticking to his odd habit of sharpening his skills on snakes, or the sparse other predator fight. This was something different, perhaps drastic but there weren't many options. A gust of wind stirred the entrance, creeping into the musty den and seemingly confirming his thoughts. There was a brief pause and Stoatfur felt his chest tightening with certainty. He clenched his teeth and lifted his gaze to lay steady with the leaders.

"Minkstar, I think our best option would be to take Sunningrocks."

Of all the things he'd expected his new deputy to say, that wasn't it. He twitched, inadvertently stiffening. For a moment he sat in silence, his jaw clenched, thoughts and memories swirling.

"Stoat," He finally began, unable to quite keep the edge of pain out of his tone, "those rocks aren't worth anything. I know our Clans have fought over them for generations, but all the prey in the territories isn't worth the blood we've spilled on those stars-cursed boulders." He searched Stoatfur's gaze, almost mentally begging him to understand, a sickening feeling swirling up from his gut to the pit of his throat at the idea of taking Sunningrocks.
Of betraying his Clan. Former Clan. Not his. Not anymore.

A muscle in his jaw twitched as he aggressively pushed the tangle of emotion back where it belonged. "If I order ThunderClan to start a war over them again, just when we have a chance to work things out peacefully, we'll never see the end of it."

Stoatfur tried to decipher the leader's expression, studying his maw and digesting the pained tone of the words. It was hard to tell whether or not Minkstar was speaking honestly, from a critical standpoint, or whether his past was impacting these decisions. His eyes drifted down to the dried and dusty moss at the ginger tom's pads. Minkstar held onto things - it was evident in the way he had treated the clan's deputyship, or lingered endlessly in Dovefrost's den. Although he had come to trust the leader and respected him higher than any cats, maybe aside from Thrushnose, he was going to have to disagree.

It had to be done, pushing back against the tom who had pried him apart from kithood. Stoatfur said nothing for a moment, letting his tail lash. In his gaze, it was evident that many thoughts raced through his mind, considering options. Finally he sighed, "I might be young, I have not seen battles like you, Minkstar. But if peace is to be what prevents fighting, I've been to enough gatherings to know that not even Starclan is able to preserve that. Our clan needs to take action, to prepare, if we are going to survive this leafbare. Already the warriors are growing weaker, I'm sure you can feel it too."

Once exasperated his tone had grown grave in nature. This wasn't a thought fuel by greed or desire. Thunderclan had always told tales of how Sunningrocks had been on their side of the border and Riverclan claimed it. Vicious battles had been fought over them. But, they would be in combat against an unbeatable foe if they were to simply settled for the territory they had now. Expansion meant the ability to feed more mouths and it seemed Minkstar was inclined to take on that challenge.

"Ivystar doesn't seem like the kind of cat to simply give territory away but... I think this might be our only option. Unless we want to challenge Skyclan, and I've heard the whispers of what Bloodstrike does in battle. They're hardly an honorable clan, I-" He paused, feeling sand dry his throat as he sought to find the leader's eyes. This wasn't something that he could let get merely brushed aside, "I want to see our clan survive, thrive. Right now I don't think that's possible, if leaf-fall is going to be as bad as it seems. We need more hunting grounds and Sunningrocks is our best option."

The rhythmic flickering of his tail had slowed as his piece was said. Stoatfur continued to try to read Minkstar's thoughts, to no avail. He looked up, almost pleading with the leader to consider, "Let me take a patrol to Sunningrocks. If Riverclan cats show up, I'll ask we be allowed to take it peacefully, for the sake of our clan. And, well, if they refuse... I'd rather come back covered in wounds and know I tried than sit on my paws and wait for our enemies to become forgiving."

He knew that it was partly his connection to his old Clan that brought this swirling sense of dread to the surface, but... Closing his eyes and sighing quietly, he opened them again and turned his gaze back to Stoatfur. "You're right," He said quietly. "Stars, I wish you weren't, but if there's a chance to take it peacefully then we should try."

For a moment he sat in silence, eyes wandering to the old moss at his paws. Stirring again, he looked up, a flicker of determination in his gaze as he straightened. "But I'm not going to let you do it alone. StarClan gave me the task of leadership, and I can't just throw aside my responsibilities because it means facing things I'd rather not. We'll go together."

Relief.

Stoatfur felt it wash over him, dashed away only by the realization that he would be walking into the claws of an enemy Riverclan warrior. But the fact Minkstar would be there as well made it all better. With some fine, young warriors, they could attempt to take on the clan who'd lain claim to Sunningrocks for so long. Even now, he considered peace to be a foolish hope but it was worth trying. And if all were to fail, they would be prepared, he would make sure that they would.

"I'll prepare a patrol for us, Minkstar, and bring Dovefrost as well. Maybe the presence of a medicine cat will show them we are seeking peace." Or he will be there to patch our wounds.