My Mother Told Me [OPEN]

Darkpaw had returned from that gathering without saying much. It had been a full day, and even Minnowfin seemed busier than normal. Everyone's schedule had been turned upside down. Darkpaw wasn't able to go out with his mentor and had been instructed to stay in camp, but the last thing he wanted to do was be in camp around those... things. He slipped out the first chance that he got, everyone distracted with their new guests. He needed to get away. He needed to think. Or maybe he needed to not think. He didn't know. The images of cats dying, bright red blood staining the pale white snow and the screams of agony never stopped replaying in his head. He tried to keep it all trapped inside and keep a strong face for his family. He wouldn't let it scare him... he couldn't. He'd already cowered and backed down when the Dark Forest cat approached him, his mother and his siblings.

He had no love for Morningstar... Dawnhawk... Klaus... whatever his name was. Still, the pale tom had saved them from a potentially terrible fate. That didn't mean he was necessarily ready to accept him... and after that entrance he may never. Darkpaw was done acting like a kit. This called for strong warriors and a strong warrior was what he would be. For that, he needed to do things on his own. He didn't need to wait for permission from anyone else. He young tom crept through Thunderclan's wintery territory looking for prey. He had to feed his clan at the very least. He supposed he was grateful that the undead monsters and the Dark Forest cats didn't appear to need food.

A field mouse was spotted running up the twigs of a bush and Darkpaw hunkered down low. He wasn't entirely sure if his hunting style was right, but he did his best to mimic what he'd seen warriors do. He crept forward carefully, his heart hammering as he approached the mouse. He didn't know when close was too close, nor did he know what too far away was... but he had to at least try. With Minnowfin and Stoatstar busy, he didn't have time to learn traditionally. Was anything traditional anymore? He sprung forward, hoping that his paws were swift enough to catch the mouse.

Darkpaw attempted to catch a mouse, he was Successful! -7SP

To his surprise, he managed to snatch the mouse from the small twig. It squeaked in terror and surprise and he struggled at first, not sure how to dispatch it quickly. He did manage to bite it's head and end the mouse's life after a moment. Once it was dead, he stared at it... stared at the blood that leaked from it's head. He shuddered as unpleasant memories came crashing back into the forefront of his mind. It was a struggle, but he forced them to go away. It was just a mouse... it was no big deal to kill it.

The member 'Tara' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Hunting Dice' : 3

Daypaw had seen Darkpaw slip out from his quiet sulking spot. His brother made it look effortless, like it wasn't terrifying. He just... left, disappearing through the bracken like he was one of the Clan's eldest warriors.

He always was braver than me.

The words were accompanied by the image and the not-so-distant sound of Darkpaw wailing, cry out in terror and being bowled to the earth for it. Of their father quickly sending Darkpaw's attacker off. Of their father.

He'd gotten to his paws without thinking, looking over his shoulder to make sure Stoatstar or one of their new 'Clanmates' before dipping out after.

The territory still awed him, in all its size and wintery beauty. There were so many scents too; they flooded his tongue, overwhelming his senses as he ventured into the open. As much as he wanted to look around and marvel, Daypaw had to keep his gaze focused on the ground so he could follow in the fresh prints of his brother.

It didn't take long to find him, his distinguished pelt sticking out among the sparse brush. A mouse writhed under his claws, squealing in terror until Darkpaw put it out of its misery, a small spurt of blood spraying into the snow.

Daypaw shivered.

With a sigh, the golden tom stepped forward, ears twitching as he padded quietly to his brother's side. "Good catch," he mewed softly, flicking his tail affectionaly against Darkpaw's flank.

He...

He looks a lot like our dad. Well... half of him does, at least.

A frown creased Daypaw's features, and he just shook his head, dropping his gaze to the half-decapitated mouse. "I don't know who's going to eat it. Most of the fresh-kill isn't, uh... headless."

Darkpaw nearly jumped out of his skin when Daypaw spoke. Apprentices weren't supposed to be out alone... looks like he wasn't the only one ignoring that rule. Once his heart returned to a normal pace he registered what Daypaw actually said. He looked down at his mouse again, glaring at it, before he raised that same intense, mismatched gaze to his brother.

"Well if anyone wants to be ungrateful I'll eat it myself." His tone was sharp, but his eyes softened after he spoke. Daypaw didn't mean anything by it, he knew. Lately there had been too much to think about and his mind was overstimulated. It had a tendency to make him a bit snappy.

"Sorry Daypaw I'm not mad at you." He absent-mindedly nudged the mouse with his toe. Despite not eating yet today he had no appetite. He sat down with a heavy sigh. "Are we going to talk about it? It's okay if not." He didn't need to elaborate what "it" was. He was sure Daypaw understood that he meant the Gathering and all that had transpired there. Particularly the part where they found out Morningstar was their father... that murderer. A literal Dark Forest cat.

Darkpaw himself was still in a state of shock. How could something like this happen? If that was who his father was then maybe he didn't want one. He'd be fine with just his mom. He was also trying to make sense of Stoatstar accepting them into the clan as if they hadn't just murdered tons of cats at the Gathering. What did that say about his leader? What did it say about Thunderclan, who refused to kill the leader and replace him with Minnowfin?

What did it say about him, that he had these thoughts?

Their scent wreathed his nostrils, strong. This was the right path. Stoatstar had noticed the apprentices weren't accounted for shortly after returning from patrol. Although their apprentice's den was overflowing, the leader made sure to keep an eye on all young cats. He wanted to see them grow into proper warriors rather than bumbling about without any direction. It came from having Minkstar to point him down the right path, even when he hated it. And Waterlily too. And Thrushnose. Thinking of them help to cool some of the anger boiling up in his stomach.

Not only had the apprentices left camp alone, they had journeyed far. And when the forest was gripped by looming shadows no less. How was Stoatstar supposed to keep the clan safe if they couldn't follow simple rules? His tail lashed back and forth the closer he got. Just close enough, the little tom spotted them through the sparse and deadened undergrowth. One ear twitched as he listened in on the conversation for a moment. This was something they had to work through on their own and he wouldn't pry there unless they wanted but... they still had disobeyed his orders.

"Assigning yourself patrols these days then, hm?" He meowed, padding forward and revealing himself. Standing downwind had kept him concealed until the time was right. The apprentices were about to get an earful no doubt.

Daypaw recoiled a little at Darkpaw's sharp words, but he held his stance against it, nodding slowly as his brother spoke. "I know you aren't," he assured, mew soft. "And, uh... I wasn't going to bring it up. But we can, I guess. Maybe it would help." He shrugged, looking lost. The image of Morningstar clouded his mind every moment he was awake– it even found him in his fitful sleep, too. He wanted nothing more than a moment's reprieve from their gruesome sire, to think about things every other apprentice got to think about. He wanted to worry about which warriors he was going to patrol with, or what he would learn that day, or when his ceremony would be, not... Not any part of his family except for his mother and siblings.

His jaw parted, some unbidden tangent about the graceless discovery about their heritage about to spill forth, but the appearance of a third cat stilled him into silence. Thankfully, it was just Eveningpaw, lingering on the conversation just long enough to show how long he'd been following them. A thin smile turned the corners of his maw, and Daypaw ached to feel comforted by it. But his brother looked just as defeafed and worn as the rest of them. "I think we'd catch more stones than mice," the golden tom tried, forcing out a thin laugh. "But it would give us something to do, I guess. We can't talk about Morn– about, uhm... anything if our mouths are full of prey, I guess."

He was just about to amble off, too, try and figure out the best way to force his limbs to fold under him when the brush rattled again. Hope blossomed in his chest that it might just be another one of his siblings, that they could exist peacefully within each other's presence and forget anything that had happened to them. But the parting of foliage revealed a far scarier figure, and the apprentice shrank back, half-lowering himself to the earth. "Sorry," was all Daypaw managed to squeak out, until he cleared his throat and pushed himself to height again. Despite how quickly he was growing, Stoatsar still looked down on him. "We just thought it might be a good idea, to, you know... hunt, a little. Everyone else has so much going on and we wanted to do something, at least." The lie was clumsy, accompanied by a series of nervous coughs. Daypaw couldn't bring himself to look directly at his mentor, bright eyes dropping to watch his own paws move as he kicked at the snow. First the Gathering, now he was looking to turn himself into a disappointment in front of their leader. How much can I put myself through before I'm even a warrior?

Darkpaw wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to talk about the gathering. Still, if his siblings wanted to, if only to get things off their chest, he would listen and participate in the conversation. That was... until Stoatstar came out of the woodwork. Darkpaw turned to face him, at first saying nothing. Once his siblings were either quiet or said their peace, Darkpaw sighed and finally opened his own mouth.

"We're at least with each other and not alone. I'd like to get away from camp for awhile... especially now." He made his distaste for the new guests known. By extension... his disgust with Stoatstar's decision to let them in. There was a brief moment where Darkpaw's eyes had hardened when they lingered on his leader's but he looked away after that brief moment. He turned away and began to walk, setting his nose on the ground in search of more mice to catch.

There was tension in his shoulders though, and he was bracing for Stoatstar to start yelling at him or to raise his voice at the very least. It still didn't stop Darkpaw from being defiant.