once again we'd feel (c)

Dusk was slowly beginning to fall as Appledapple made her way back into camp. The almost blinding blue of the winter sky was fading now into beige, then a rosy pink, a husky orange, and even bleeding into a deep purple as the sun descended further downward on the cloudless horizon. Shivering against the cold, she pushed through the thorny entrance, making sure not to catch her fur on any snags. In her mouth was the result of her hunting-- a single mouse. She'd had better days, but she'd had worse days too. The days when she had to walk in empty-pawed, bringing nothing, seeing the hollow faces of her Clanmates fall in disappointment at the meager fresh-kill pile... days when she saw the RiverClan queen eating what little they had. A slight tremor of rage shuddered through her, but she shook it off. There was no point simmering in thoughts that would do her no good. The conversation with Starlingflare had been cathartic, but deep down she knew that she wouldn't do anything about it. No matter what they said. As much as she hated the stinking she-cat, even the thought of sinking her fangs into another cat's throat was more repulsive than she could describe. It almost made her want to gag and toss the one precious mouse out of her jaws. But she didn't. This mouse had a purpose.

She hadn't talked to Stoatstar one-on-one since... well... the incident. The reason they suddenly had a gaggle of new apprentices in the den. The reason that Clanmates seemed to think she had a good relationship with the tom. They hadn't had any conversation since that hadn't involved one of the many rogue kits, a fellow warrior, or anything else. Not since he had become leader. It was still odd to think about; Minkstar was gone permanently to the stars, and Stoatfur had now taken on the moniker of Stoatstar and all the wonderful coping mechanisms it came with. He hadn't changed much as a cat since their yelling match in the forest. He still seemed to deal with his feelings the same way. Every so often, she thought of the first time they'd spent alone together, hunting snakes, and the fire she'd seen in his orange eyes then.... What had happened to bury that part of him so deep inside? The part she liked so much?

Well, she had come to terms with the fact that he wouldn't approach her first. He rarely ever did. The one time he had, they'd ended up stuck with a batch of rogue kits (who were admittedly very fine apprentices) and a new traumatic memory that Appledapple didn't even know how to deal with yet. And they still hadn't resolved whatever tension lay in the air between them. So, though she knew that nothing could be fixed immediately, nor perhaps at all, the tortoiseshell had decided it was her turn to extend an offering of peace. Stoatstar rarely ate unless fiery little Mottlepaw brought him something, but the she-cat had been busy today on patrols. So she figured that maybe, if she brought prey, it could be a pretext to start some kind of conversation. That was why the warrior found herself inside the leaders' den for maybe the first time in her life, looking for him where he would probably be at this time of evening. Sure enough, he was inside the den, seemingly lost in some kind of thought. Without any announcement for herself, she gently dropped the mouse at his paws, and sat down. "Eat up, you look hungry." Her voice wasn't the fake sweetness she put on with some Clanmates, nor the anger that many had probably become accustomed to. It was more of an in-between-- an honest tone, but not a confrontational one. "I made sure all the apprentices got some food too."

Things were going about as well as could be expected during the middle of a harsh season. The clan had grown drastically and young cats were entrenched in training on their way to becoming warriors. He'd seen progress in the former Riverclan apprentices and a new warrior had been named. But hunger still gnawed at their stomachs like a persistent pest. Stoatstar had almost grown used to it. Despite his lack of strength due to the circumstances, the clan was relentless in their efforts to keep him fed. They all worked together and supported each other. Minor differences here and there... light tensions.

It seemed when he thought of Appledapple, she appeared. There was a flash of surprise in his eyes but he gave no sigh otherwise. The she-cat had pushed her way in without any sort of announcement of her arrival. If she'd stopped and asked to come in, he would have been shocked - this was Appledapple after all. Narrowing his eyes slightly with annoyance, the tom opted not to say anything. If it were another cat, he would have surely spoken up but instead turned his gaze to focus on the mouse. Her tone gave him a pause and admittedly threw him off slightly; Stoatstar wasn't accustomed to such pleasantries from her. It had been a while since they'd been on anything other than tense terms.

"Between you and Mottlerose, I'm going to end up looking like a kittypet." He joked lightly, twitching his whiskers and pulling the little creature towards him for a bite. As he sunk his teeth in, the little tom chewed slowly and thoughtfully. The more he savored the flavor and ate it slowly, the more he could trick his stomach into thinking this was enough for the day. At this point, Stoatstar had learned not to argue. If he wanted to do all the many things he did each day, it meant needing some amount of strength to keep him going. His tail flickered back and forth slowly, a light sensation bubbling up in his stomach. Discomfort? Nervousness? This unspoken thing hung between them and he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"So, how has training apprentices been? We've had so many. I know it can be a lot. But at least it means more paws for patrols."

It was strange to be talking with him one-on-one like this, after so long. Whatever strangeness that hovered tenuously between them seemed to keep real thoughts from breaking through. Ever since her brutal honesty-- which had, in all fairness, been mostly yelling-- they hadn't said much to each other at all. The consequences of that were whatever this dialogue was. Stoatstar made a light joke, began eating, and then inquired politely into the state of affairs. It was so normal... almost too normal. They had adopted kits, he had become leader, he had made Minnowfin deputy, and since then, what? Nothing. Not a sincere word between them.

Appledapple wrested control of herself from the growing desire to demand truth, and instead participated in the effort at conversation. It was the least she could do. Maybe if they interacted on his terms, he would feel comfortable enough to actually talk. Then she could actually get to know this tom she'd spent too much of her life dancing nervously around. "Reedpaw has been doing well," she meowed, thinking back to their most recent patrol. "He seems to be a fairly sensible tom. Actually, most of our--" our kits. But they aren't really. Despite the minor mistake, she pressed on. "--Most of the kits are thriving. Even Heronpaw seems to be doing better. I think the only one struggling is Softpaw... I fear that he may be taking too many cues from me without actually learning the self-restraint that I try to have." She recognized the irony in telling Stoatstar, of all cats, that she tried to restrain herself. But hopefully he would understand what she meant. After all, it was in so many words that their troublesome "son" often blamed his emotional outbursts on her.

Her tail-tip flicked idly as she considered the adopted kits. "I had a hunting patrol with them recently. They all seem to at least get along. Have you been spending much time with them? I know as leader, you are busy. Especially with all the rogues and RiverClanners running around." It was with greatest effort that she only put a modicum of bitterness in her voice at that last line, rather than the spitting venom that entered her heart when she thought of how much of their prey was being eaten by foreigners. She recognized that she hadn't made the effort to get to know them. She also recognized that she didn't want to. But here she was, letting her anger control her emotions again when she really just wanted to have a talk with the tom. She sighed. "It's all right. I understand. I don't blame you-- Minkstar was a good cat, and he made everyone trust him. Me included."

"I'm happy to hear. Softpaw will learn. All the clan's apprentice's have been doing well." He meowed with a slight shrug. The leader had noticed her slight stumble over the words. Could it be that she'd forged some affection for them as well? Stoatstar hardly wanted to admit it but he cared for them. Often, he dealt with the sensation by writing it off as being a similar affection to the rest of the clan. If he took more than a moment to think about it, then perhaps the tom would have realized it was the same way that he approached Appledapple. Flicking his tail slightly, he fell into a rhythm of nodding his head slightly along with her words.

The measured tension between them made Stoatstar not want to speak. He didn't want to snap the tender peace. Speaking would ruin it somehow, surely. Such a loose tongue was now tied into endless knots. It was when she mentioned their non-Thunderclan clanmates. His head tipped slightly. Words weren't brisk, but matter-of-fact, "They're clanmates like the rest. Minkstar decreed it and I won't be the one to change it. I'll treat them like the rest. Swammist's kits are determined. They'll be great warriors, dedicated to the clan. Just need to keep an eye on, Flurrypaw."

Stoatstar's claws hooked into the soft flesh of the prey, pulling it in for another bite. He'd paused, enjoying the food before looking up to meet her eyes, "Did you just come here for a chat, Appledapple? I don't remember you being the social kind. Unless being surrounded by kits has changed you." There was a flicker of a smirk that crossed the sides of his maw. Instead of addressing the things settled between them, he was asking her too. It would be easier that way. Eventually, they would have to talk. Someday. Maybe that would be today.

As the minced, polite words continued to dance across the leader's den, Appledapple began to feel slightly more frustrated. Was that the right word? Frustrated? Annoyed? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that the conversation wasn't going anywhere. His answers were all measured and expected. He wouldn't throw out the cats Minkstar invited, obviously. And he didn't seem to have any extra outward affection for the adopted kits, but she knew he tended to hide those sorts of feelings.

Then, he threw the burden of proof on her. With that smirk. The smug little... Still, how long had it been since she'd seen any real feeling on the tom's face? Especially anything positive? It was impossible to deny the simultaneous annoyance and weird warmth that battled for a moment as she saw the mischievous change of expression. Well, he wanted her to talk? Fine. She had plenty to talk about. "I know you aren't as much of a mouse-brain as you act sometimes, Stoat," the tortoiseshell huffed, tail wrapping around her paws. "Whatever this is between us, we need to deal with it. I know I'm awful at confrontation... stars. I've never been good at talking to others. You, of all cats, know that. But this burden isn't just on me. You've been mostly avoiding me, too, ever since-- well. You know." Fangs in a rogue's throat, coppery blood bubbling up in her mouth, too strong to ever wash out the taste. She ignored the strong sense of memory. "We are raising kits together. I know it's unorthodox. But, if only for them, we really need to start acting like Clanmates if nothing else."

Storm-gray eyes narrowed, and she looked to the side. "I'm not very social. You're right. Fine. If I'm being honest with myself, I need to work on that. I don't have to be the one to tell you that ThunderClan isn't doing well. Not only physically, but a lot of us have dealt with far more than the average forest cat by this point. Deaths, starvations-- we're all still reeling from Minkstar's loss, to be perfectly honest. We snap at each other. We wake up at night, tossing in our nests, from nightmares that make no sense. The dreams I've been having lately, they..." Stop, you're getting off topic. Almost imperceptibly, she shook her head. "But that isn't the point. I didn't come in here to complain. And I didn't just come in here to make sure you eat, though that is important." Appledapple raised her head, and looked the leader straight in the eyes. "I want to be friends with you, Stoat. I like you. I know I'm terrible at acting like it. I don't know how to act. But can we start over? Maybe not completely from the start, but... Can we at least move past whatever this farce at conversation is? I know a little bit about you. The real you. I want to know more." She didn't know where this boldness was coming from. But she needed it, badly.

He was stunned by her speech and any hints of the smirk fell away. The words washed over him and it took a while for the tom to fully digest what she was saying. Honestly, the leader hated it. Appledapple had always proved herself skilled at tearing through his barriers and prying him open. In a way, it reminded him of Minkstar. It seemed to be a sheer will thing, genuine in the way that she said she liked him. Stoatstar's expression was neutral and for a long time he said nothing as his tail flickered back and forth. There was nothing more unpleasant than facing himself. And to stand before Appledapple now, meant he would have to look head on into the very things he tried to ignore, between them and in himself.

"This is the most you've had to say since yowling me on patrol. Have you been saving it up?" The tone was even, bordering on icy. He shook out his coat and straightened up slightly with an agitated sigh. But it was ultimately himself who was the source of frustration. Stoatstar's orange eyes flickered up to meet hers, "Sorry. Alright, clanmates. We're at least that, right?" Half of the words were to her, the other half to himself. Admittedly, it didn't bother him to have the she-cat in his den. That was more what bothered him, the fact that he found himself enjoying her presence, despite how utterly annoying she was in the way she picked him apart. But he was a clan leader now, it was much harder to entertain his own self-indulgent behaviors.

"I'm not good at this, any of this, and I don't think I ever will be but I'd rather leave it behind too. Even if I don't think about it, this unspoken, lingering thing... yeah, let's put it aside. Let's move on. I can't promise you'll get what you want from me, Appledapple, I don't have a lot to give. But for the clan's sake, for the apprentices, let's make it easier." His shoulders shifted slightly, shrugging it away. Stoatstar's own emotional expression had become far less grand since the passing of Minkstar, exhausted, drained, and he hardly had time to process any of it. As the rather lackluster acceptance came to an end, something else came to mind, "We have to tell them someday. They're almost warriors."