blasphemous rumours [C]

Eventually, Cloverheart's paws would stop moving.

Weariness gnawed at her bones, and as her body slowly unfurled, a small grumble of discontent left her. From Twolegplace, straight to the Highstones, then the hike back to camp– justifiably, she felt, she had returned directly to her nest, pitching Basilbloom's new flower in the vague direction of the rest of her herbs before dropping gracelessly into the familiar bed of reeds and down.

The day was slow to pass. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to stay asleep; the usual nightmares haunted her, blurred faceless ghosts loping at her shoulders; the more recent reek of Ivystar's blood distant, echoing jay-calls; and, a new contender: StarClan, the familiar dusky fields stretched in front of her.

But it was empty, and cold. No ancestor waited for her. Those were, she thought, the most chilling of her dreams.

Tired of restless turning, the medicine cat finished her stretching and rose to her paws, stumbling clumsily out of the den. If she couldn't sleep, then she would put herself to work. Important conversations had dwelled at the back of her mind, too long for her to remember when the weight hadn't plagued her.

First, she sought out the apprentices' den, heavy paws falling easily into the familiar path. No familiar pelt– at least, not the one she was looking for –was in sight, and with a quiet apology to any of the young cats she might have disturbed, Cloverheart backed out.

Eyes narrowed and looking especially cross with her lack of luck on first guesses, the dove-white she cat stalked around camp, narrowed eyes peering through every den, glaring through the reed walls. Eventually, staggering past the entrance, a flash of split-dark fur caught her eye, and Cloverheart wasted no time approaching her.

"Darkpaw. So glad to see you again," her meow was warm, but the smile that came with it was glaringly forced. Her tail twitched. "You're not busy, are you? I'd like to talk to you."

There was an oddly mixed peace with the medicine cat briefly gone from the clan but it was far from calm. She had indeed found some solace in moving into the warrior's den and having a nest next to Tinypool's. It made the night seem a tad shorter and helped to keep the ghosts at bay. But Starclan hadn't stopped invading her dreams. This had never been Sageleaf's fault, and she knew it, becoming more and more accustomed to the nightly wanderings. They had not lead her anywhere else but those starry skies. Often she thought of the strange tom and wondered if their paths would cross again.

Things had become easier, slipping in and out of the world that she was far too young to truly walk; it had all become something of a second nature. But what never subsided, what never seemed to die out, was the anxiety surrounding this lack of knowing that constantly built up in her chest. Sageleaf reassured her, told her that together everything would be fine. But if the stars didn't know the answers, if it was up to a little, anxiety-ridden warrior to carry the fate of the world on her little shoulders... Darkglow swallowed.

As a voice reached her ears, the young warrior's head immediately shot up. She saw Cloverheart and ducked it slightly. After her moonstone journey, right before Cloverheart had left along with the other medicine cats, something had happen. She felt it simmering up, slicing through the frozen air. It had to do with her. This thing that she wasn't supposed to talk about and didn't want to. For this reason, a cat she'd previously enjoyed the company of, had become something she wanted to avoid - and being alone was briefly a comfort. But this couldn't be avoided forever.

"Oh, uhm, it's Darkglow now." She muttered. Many excuses fluttered through her mind but none realistic. And Darkglow had to face the truth that she was not capable of fabricating any sort of convincing lie. Rising to her pads, she shook out her coat slowly, uncomfortably, "Yeah, uhm, no. No I'm not. It's okay." The calico knew she had to face this, it couldn't be avoided forever. She nodded and waited for Cloverheart to lead the way, and she would follow.

Stammering, the younger molly admitted she was free– and offered a correction to her name. Cloverheart's whiskers twitched, something like annoyance flashing through her features. "Congratulations on your new name, Darkglow," she amended, a slight bow of her head in respect. "I can't believe you're already a warrior. I'm very proud." The tip of her tail flickered, betraying more than pride; frustration burned at her pelt. With Darkglow all but capable of handling herself, she wouldn't need cats peering over her shoulder at every step to keep her out of trouble.

This is... different, though. I'm doing more than keeping her out of a dog's mouth. She still needs me.

Not feeling as assured as she hoped, Cloverheart jerked her head, wordlessly steering her companion over towards her own den. She was hesitant to move all the way inside, instead choosing to wedge herself in the ring of sedge and reed, backed as close to the entrance as she could get without disappearing. Settled, she turned her attention back on her companion, looking her over for a painfully long heartbeat.

"Your trip to the Moonstone was very interesting," she began steadily, gaze intense and searching as she stared at Darkglow. The molly was clearly uncomfortable– but then, she usually seemed fidgety. She always liked me, though. Cloverheart's nose wrinkled. She'd hoped Darkglow's comfort around her would have made this easier; apparently, that wouldn't be the case. "Usually when I take apprentices to the Moonstone, nothing interesting happens. I get the chance to sleep a little peacefully. StarClan rarely talks to me there, or if they do, it isn't to tell me anything important. Little flickers of memories, of dreams, but nothing all that meaningful.

When I took you, though, something... I guess you could say something interesting happened. StarClan very politely–" Cloverheart's teeth grit as she recalled the encounter, hackles rising, "let me know that you weren't there. That you had come all the way to the Moonstone with me, had done everything right, and yet somehow they'd managed to lose you. You woke up somewhere else, beyond their reach." A breath, to cool her voice and relax her set jaw. Irritation rolled off the medicine cat in waves, pelt bristling. She wanted to direct it towards Darkglow– bitter words sat against her tongue, hot and accusatory, Why didn't you tell me sooner?, but Cloverheart bit against them. As much as she wanted to be mad, she couldn't justify taking it out on her friend; had she been young, fur still soft with kit-down, and walking the stars guidelessly, she was sure she would have tripped over her own tail trying to please whichever cats appeared to her.

The thought of it made her burn all over again. It must have been so isolating, terrifying, to drift between Clanmates like that, dragging along heavy secrets. Outrageous.

"I was also told something else we need to talk about. Apparently, you've been able to speak with StarClan since birth. Darkglow, I– you should have told me." Cloverheart's tail waved, dismissive. "Not that I blame you. I couldn't if I wanted to, and trust me, Darkglow– I do want to. You know me, and you know that dealing with StarClan is my job. You should have come to me. But," her gaze softened, a sigh passing her teeth, "I can't blame you for listening to your mouse-brained ancestors. However they chose to handle it, which was incredible poorly, in my opinion, is already over with. I can't fix any of that. What I can do, though, is tell you I know now. I can tell you– I'm not asking, Darkglow, I'm telling –you to talk to me about your dreams. Anything, even if you think it's insignificant.

And, I can ask you: what do you see, when you go to StarClan? What do they tell you? And... where did you go, when I took you to the Moonstone?"

This was it - the very moment that she had avoided for so long, a conversation she did not want to have, now just before her whiskers. Darkglow followed after Cloverheart with her head low. It was difficult to keep her tail from dragging across the ground behind her. The entire walk across camp, a voice in her head screamed that he paws should carry her far away. She was a creature so avoidant to conflict, so adverse to staring down this thing that haunted her, that suddenly her long time friend seemed like the most horrid beast. A fox sounded like a more pleasant conversational partner now. Thinking of the gnashing teeth... at least it would be a swift end.

She settled down, placing her tail gingerly over her paws and staring at the ground. Darkglow tried to meet Cloverheart's eyes but found herself unable to and eventually gave up. When the medicine cat spoke, it confirmed her worst fears. Involuntarily, she flinched. It did almost feel akin to fangs ripping through her flesh. This secret had been guarded from kithood, separated her in an unintentionally cruel way. A cat with more conviction, more self-assurance, wouldn't have buckled like Darkglow did. As she grew, the calico had found herself only a tad less frightful - finding comfort only in the fact that she had become more acquainted with terrifying uncertainty, a relentless companion. To speak of it felt sinful.

Darkglow listened to Cloverheart speak. Her mind willed the conversation to become little more than a muted buzz and yet the speech echoed and was amplified as it passed through her ears. She swallowed. Cloverheart knew. It felt like the carefully crafted wall she'd build around her frail and lonely heart was crumbled almost immediately. What she had once assumed was an unbreakable thing was little more than a fragile creature. Whatever relief there was at being able to speak to another cat about her ability was dashed away by the reality that speaking of it, meant that she had to face it. Finding the words proved to be impossible. If she could opt to never respond and just slip away from the den, she would have. But that was not an option.

"...if Starclan doesn't know, then who has the answers? W-what's wrong with me, Cloverheart?" There was a quiver to her voice. It did not address the words that hung heavy in the air between them. Yet all she could cling onto was an honest fear - a worry that there would never be answered. The edges of her eyes were fresh with budding tears. Terror budded up in her chest but she found it easier to speak as she gasped out her questions. Finally looking up, Darkglow met Cloverheart's gaze. There was a plea for a comfort that the medicine cat could never provide. Starclan hadn't been able to soothe her worries only contain them. But this was quickly growing beyond her, or maybe it always had been.

"It started when I was young. Sageleaf was as surprised as I was. Mostly, we just talk. She asks about training, life... it's not very exciting but she's... nice. I know she tries to find the answers, to figure out how I end up there. I can't control it. I-I don't know what this is. No one seems to know. I thought it was just Starclan but... I went somewhere without stars. It was plain and uneventful and without answers. I-I don't know. I can at least tell now when I'm waking up, when I'm going to leave but... for as powerful as Sageleaf seems to think I have, I'm powerless." Darkglow felt more pathetic the more words spilled from her mouth. But once it started, it too became uncontrollable.

"I-If Starclan doesn't know, then I think Sageleaf is right. This is dangerous somehow. Not for me but for... others. I get a bad feeling. That's why I never told you. I'm so sorry, Cloverheart, I'm so sorry..." Eyes glossed over and fell away once more. Darkglow's shoulders slumped forward with a defeated sigh. A pressure had lifted but not disappeared. It would never leave, haunting her. Now, what weighed on the she-cat's mind was her friend's response. But she was too tired to think much about it. The mental exhaustion briefly numbed her thoughts; it was kind of nice.

Immediately, Cloverheart regretted her tone. She regretted starting the conversation as a whole, really; with the withered look Darkglow gave her, the shuddering What's wrong with me?, Cloverheart wished she had never brought it up at all. It would have easier, maybe, for the both of them, if she had let the issue pass quietly, and kept a careful eye on the calico from a distance. But... I can't justify that. Who would I be, to let her manage this on her own? She's done that her whole life. The medicine cat's expression soured. Why is the right thing never easy? And why am I always the one doing it?

She was quiet as Darkglow spoke, silent and still as stone. Once, the slightest motion offered a sign she was listening at all: the faintest flicker of her torn ear at the mention of a place without stars. Then her body was rigid again. She thought, and hummed a little, then shifted herself closer to touch a gentle nose to the other she-cat's shoulder.

"First, let's start with this: nothing is wrong with you, Darkglow. Yes, you're... different. But nothing is wrong with you." Cloverheart's mew was soft as she pulled away from the gesture, a frown creasing the corners of her maw. "And please don't cry on me. That won't do at all, you know." A laugh, her usual bitter bark, an attempt to make things seem lighter than they were. But there was no lightening this; it was too heavy for her, or for anyone, to try and laugh away. She sighed and hung her head, looking soundly defeated. "Darkglow, I...

Listen, to be entirely honest with you, I don't know what to do about this, at all. I don't know much of anything, except that I'm mad on your behalf. I also know that you, of all cats, aren't dangerous. I know I just said I want to blame you for all this, and you know I'm not a liar, so that much is– is true, at least. But again, I can't do that in good conscience, and I do respect how you've handled this. I can only imagine how terrifying it must have been the first time you met with StarClan, and to be told to keep it a secret. It's a very brave thing, to look out for other cats before yourself. As much as I don't like it, I have to admire it.

I wish I could have all the answers for you. I wish I could offer you a way out of this, smooth and easy. I really, really do. But I... I have no idea what to do about this. I've never run into this before, clearly. Stars, if you'd told me sooner, I might have tried to make you my apprentice to make things make a little more sense for you." Cloverheart paused there, exhaling through another wry laugh before continuing on.  "But I can't do that now, I guess. I feel like– honestly, I feel like there's not much I can do." She stopped again, looking thoughtful, dropping her gaze to watch as her paws worked the frosted earth. Something was still bothering her.

"If you don't tell me anything else– and you ought to be telling me whatever else happens from here on out –tell me if you go back to that... other place." Cloverheart spat the last few words with distaste, brow briefly furrowing before her features smoothed into something closer to neutrality. Slowly, she brought her eyes back up, scanning Darkglow's own expression, even though the calico wouldn't meet her gaze anymore. "Honestly, I think this is extremely beyond me. Beyond you, too. I'm... I'm sorry, Darkglow, that it's you that has to do this. I wish it were anyone else, I really do. I don't have the answers, and apparently our ancestors don't either." Shouldn't they, though? All-knowing that they are? "We're going to figure this out, though. I'm going to try and talk to them– try and talk to Sageleaf –and you're going to..." she drifted, swallowing, then muttered, "I don't know what to do with you, Darkglow. I don't know what to tell you to do, except to just be careful. With all cats. Sometimes I think you're too nice." Cloverheart smiled, tight-lipped and weak. The warmth didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You just be careful, and talk to me if you need anything. I'll do my best to make things better for you." The medicine cat eventually settled on. Despite all her fire, the deep-set drive to fight fang and claw for her Clanmates, her history of railing against anything that would cause them– or her –harm, her usual certain and determined voice wavered. How was she supposed to protect Darkglow from her own ancestors, from the very cats that were meant to guide their paws? That had put her in the situation in the first place?

Cloverheart wilted, sagging under the weight of her own thoughts. She was used to feeling lost, unsteady despite appearances, but this was... her nose wrinkled. Existential, almost. I hope one dead cat is getting a laugh out of this, she thought, a bit bitterly. She would figure this out– somehow. One look at Darkglow, and she knew that if nothing else, she had to try. She recalled that starry field, where she'd first found out about Darkglow's ability to walk the same expanse. I have to be that one cat that cares about her. She needs it.