only heaven knows where the danger grows (c)

New-leaf had finally seen fit to descend upon the forest. The bitter, chilly edge that had hovered oppressively over camp had begun to dissipate, just as the large snowpiles that had clumped around the territory were finally melting away. This did mean that the river was even more swollen with snow-melt than usual, but it was no problem for Perchfall. The terrors of the past moon weighed so heavily on her that the moment she began to focus on the bright sun warming her pelt, nothing else seemed important. It was okay to forget, wasn't it-- just for a little while? And so, as she walked out on the territory with Poppypaw, she let herself relish the late morning sunlight.

Birds were beginning to return to the few trees around them, and their delighted songs laced the air as the mentor and apprentice traveled to the river. Their sounds mingled with a light breeze rustling branches that had just begun to sprout leaves, and the loud, majestic rumbling of the water they were approaching. One could almost forget the atrocities that walked among living cats back at camp... one could almost forget the Gathering when Clanmates had been murdered, almost forget the stench of death, the blood spilling, the--- No. Here there was none of that. Sun shone through bare branches, frost melted away into mud, water vapor began to rise from squished grasses. The territory was safe. It had always been Perchfall's retreat when things went wrong; now would be no different.

And of course, Poppypaw was with her. The deputy glanced down for a moment, seeing the short calico pelt of her current apprentice walking side-by-side with her. Poor Poppypaw... if now was a difficult time for Perchfall, who had the status and power of being deputy, how frightening must it be for a young apprentice? And yet, the best that she could do was this. Take her out on the territory to spend time, to fish, to forget what lurked back in camp... to forget the shades that Jaystar had too swiftly welcomed. Still, if this was all she could do, she would surely do her best. Not only did she have a duty to RiverClan, but to her apprentice, as well. "Okay, Poppypaw," she meowed, her voice calm but gentle, "what do you want to do? Would you like to start with fishing, or something else?"

Thankfully, going out into the sun seemed to do Poppypaw some good. The little calico's eyes were bright, reflecting the light that shone uninterrupted from above, as they met hers. An affectionate bump from the apprentice's head forced a load of weight off of Perchfall's heart. She will be okay... We're going to be okay. We can make it through this. With an even lighter expression, letting her facial muscles relax into a small, slight smile, the deputy nodded. "Fishing it is," she agreed. "Hard to say whether there will be more fish yet, but there will certainly be less ice. Be careful, though; the river is still very fast. Wouldn't want you to get swept away." Though she mentioned the warning somewhat light-heartedly, for once, the deputy didn't even consider the possibility of it happening. The day was too new, the sun too warm, the sky too blue. Tragedy was in RiverClan camp, not out in the free territory.

As they reached the river, Perchfall saw that it was indeed overflowing. Faster even than it had been during leaf-bare, the massive amounts of new rain and melting snow making it rush beyond the banks and erode previously frosty ground into deceptively slippery mud. However, a few silvery gleams of fish scales were visible through the thick, swift water. Fish. Prey for Poppypaw and Ashflight. "Want to go first, Poppypaw? Looks like there's plenty." Normally she would station herself downstream of her apprentice for safety, but she stayed back for just a moment, relishing in the relaxation that began to wash over her. The moment was so unreal, so impossibly warm and comforting, that the deputy was lulled into a sense of near security. It felt like a dream; sun and light after so long in death and darkness. She let herself believe it. That was her mistake.

For a little while, everything was sunshine. Perchfall lingered for a moment, not bothering to step forward, simply watching with a foolish little upturn to her mouth as her apprentice ran forward laughing. The excitement that quivered through Poppypaw's body almost made her chuckle a little bit in return. The calico experienced life so fully, so readily, that even small moments like this were felt strongly. And, for a moment, that was how the deputy felt, too. Everything made sense for a little while. The river was full of fish. The sky was full of sun. Out here, in RiverClan territory, in their home element, they were safe. Seeing an excited swipe of claws miss the first fish, she began to open her mouth for a quick word of advice---

Time froze for a second. Not in the pure sunlit happiness, nor in the storm that would come after, but in the moment where Perchfall had not quite yet noticed that something was wrong. A slight slip of a small paw on the unfrozen mud; a lean forward with the energy of a claw swipe that caught the air; a miscalculation of weight distributed on a smooth surface; a strange feeling in the breeze; a tiny intake of breath about to lead to a yowl about to lead to disaster. The second lasted just long enough for comprehension to sink, slow, cold, into every fiber of her being. But not long enough for a reaction.

Instead, the moment passed, and Poppypaw's small form immediately disappeared beneath the furious waters. A cut-off shriek of surprise filled her ears, fading away just as abruptly when the barrier of river came between the apprentice's voice and her. There was no time to think. There was no time to understand. A look of stunned surprise turned into complete and utter horror as one more singular second passed: the necessary second between the communication of brain and body. Even as her mind screamed out to do something, to do anything, to stop, no, wait, go back, stop, go back, go back--- her feet remained frozen to the sun-warmed, frost-dulled grass, stuck like her heart in her throat, unable to take any motion. In that moment, nothing existed but the quiet gleam of sunlight on the water, closing over a familiar small silhouette that ceased from view just as swiftly as her voice faded from the air. Nothing existed other than the deputy's complete and utter failure. Nothing but wide eyes, dropped jaw, frozen paws.

Then thankfully, finally, the moment passed, and Perchfall somehow regained control of her body. Even while her brain was still screaming, comprehending, wishing it couldn't, her limbs moved almost of their own accord. With a desperation she had only felt once before, her muscles tensed, and she sprang forward, flying across the ground. For one more impossibly long moment, she ran parallel to the riverbank, blue eyes scanning the water with panic for any hint of calico. Another frantic heartbeat passed. Another foot hitting the ground. Another gasping breath. Then, still moving by pure instinct, still not finished understanding the string of moments, she saw it. The black and orange tip of an ear. A head struggling to break above water. The tiny flash of a paw so small one might have mistaken it for a trick of the false sunlight. But in her hyper-focused senses, Perchfall spotted it instantly-- yet not soon enough-- and her body moved again. She leaped.

It only took one more moment for her form to land in the water. Icy cold shock would have made a reasonable cat pause, would have taken yet another second to recalibrate and reanalyze the situation. However, all of Perchfall's intelligence fled immediately once the small paw slipped on the mud. There was not a single thought of consideration towards herself; nothing but a singleminded, driving compulsion. She felt, dimly, somewhere, the current begin pulling her, pushing against her efforts, dragging her downwards and onwards with the inevitable force of nature. But her paws churned through the water instinctively, fighting against the torrent like it was the most dangerous fight of her life, as she forced her eyes open despite the chill that soaked her bones. Poppypaw. Again, pain, cold, but nothing that her brain could recognize. The water was dark. It was full of twigs, eddies of dirt, chunks of half-melted ice-- nothing that her senses could grasp. But when yet another heartbeat forced its way through her body, yet another moment without daring to breathe, her eyes-- squinted against the debris that would blind her if she was not incredibly lucky-- finally spotted again the small form she was looking for. Instinctually, automatically, her jaws opened, and tightly seized Poppypaw's scruff. Her teeth closed firmly around a mouthful of calico fur.

Perchfall's energy was slowly beginning to run out. Now she finally had her apprentice's scruff in her teeth, pulling tight against the current, but the weight of two cats was nearly too much to swim with. The river's flow was too strong, pushing constantly down against the sandy bottom of the riverbank, disorienting her so that "up" was not distinguishable. Plus, despite the panic taking hold and making her muscles move of their own accord, the icy cold water was beginning to seep into her bones, making concentration even more difficult. And yet, there was no option other than to succeed. Failure meant death-- not her own, but Poppypaw's. And that was unacceptable. That was not even worth thinking about. The mere consideration of such an unthinkable horror gave the deputy new strength. Exhaling what little breath she had out of her nose, though her body's panic only grew at the action, she began sinking down to the bottom, below the stronger pulls of the surface-level water... and then, once the white tips of her paws began to brush against the river floor, she tensed and pushed up with all her might.

Finally, both heads broke above the surface. The previously temperate air seemed horribly cold after the freezing water, and the current still tried to drag her and the small, wet form she carried down under again. However, determination prevailed. Perchfall used what was last of her strength to paddle, slowly but surely, back to the muddy shore. Once or twice, her head dipped back under the raging water, but she forced herself forward. There was no other option. After an interminably long time, her half-frozen paw finally touched solid ground, almost slipping in shock on the eroding mud. But she couldn't relax yet. Muscles shaking with the effort, gasping for air, the gray and white she-cat heaved herself out of the river, crawling on her belly, lugging Poppypaw's immobile form until they were above the riverbank and on slimy snowmelted grass.

Chest heaving, feeling the post-rush of adrenaline flood her body, Perchfall collapsed. Her head hit the ground, not caring that the breeze was now freezing cold. Her gaze was single-minded. A few feet away from her lay her responsibility, her apprentice, the reason for the trouble. Was the small she-cat breathing? She was shivering, certainly. But was she okay? "P-Poppypaw," the deputy forced herself to say past her desperate breaths. "Are you... all right?" Unable to move further, one paw trembled forward to nudge the apprentice.

For a little while, all Perchfall could focus on was breathing-- the rapid inhale and exhale that her air-starved lungs couldn't slow down. The air around her eddied with the wet vapor rising from their pelts. The ground was chill, the cold from the snow that had lain on it for moons seeping deep into the wet earth, transferring that chillness to her fur as she lay on it, unable to muster the strength to move. For a moment, all she could do was breathe. Her mind raced, still trying to process all that happened. From where it lay in her chest on the ground, she felt her heart beat fast, threatening to burst through her breast, heightened by the cold and the adrenaline and the mind-numbing, thought-stopping fear that even now lingered around her small, shuddering gasps.

Even so, while her brain sluggishly tried to power through the events that had just transpired over a matter of minutes, her light blue eyes were fixed desperately on the small, wet form that lay across from her. Her apprentice. For one quick inhalation of breath, it seemed that she wouldn't move-- and then, Poppypaw pushed close to her, pressing her cold little body into the deputy's. She'll be okay... it'll be okay. Finally, the exhalations had less push behind them, and Perchfall's shivering breaths managed to slow down slightly. Poppypaw was breathing, speaking, alive. It would be fine.

Once she had passed that hurdle, the world seemed slightly less oppressive. The weight of air in her lungs no longer threatened to explode; her heart still beat overly fast, but more of a thud than a pound. Uncontrollably, she snorted slightly when the first quivering words out of Poppypaw's mouth were an apology. Of course they were... oh, the little mouse-brain. "Hey," she meowed weakly, every word taking effort to push breath out of her lungs. "S-stop that. I didn't think... you jumped, in there... on purpose. It's my fault for... for not...." Perchfall took another moment to inhale. "I should have been closer. It's... my fault, not yours."

With a grunt, she forced herself up onto her paws, though her legs trembled under the weight after doing so much difficult swimming. Poppypaw was grooming her fur again... A jolt of warmth shot up to her heart at the familiarly kind action. The overly trusting little apprentice... What if she'd died? What if Perchfall had failed her, hadn't jumped in time, hadn't been strong enough, hadn't been fast enough? The thought was almost too much to bear. Dark, heavy strings began tugging on her mind as the belated anger at herself began to swim into her thoughts. She had almost failed... irreparably. She was lucky that the current hadn't been a little stronger. Sitting up took most of her energy, so the deputy sat there for a moment, breathing hard again, trying to relax her tightening muscles and fight off the nagging worries and self-hatred that had returned once the moment of immediate danger had passed. She had no clue whether her face showed anything other than the pain and the cold and the fear that had been written across her features since she realized what had happened, and there was no space in her mind to direct towards the action of putting her walls up. So she averted her eyes for a second, staring down at her soaking wet paws. If Poppypaw was a more sensible cat, she would likely hate her now for being such a horrible mentor as to endanger her safety like that.

Perchfall only got to wallow in her self-loathing fear for just a moment. Fortunately, Poppypaw was having none of it. Her labored breathing and attempted hidden expression were cut short by a piercing little voice, and a gentle-- but firm-- headbutt to her side. Still, despite her apprentice's innocence and kindness, that didn't change what she had done. It didn't negate her failure. She was glad that there would be no grudges held... but she didn't know whether she, herself, could truly move past this. Yet, at least. It might take a while.... Stars, Poppypaw had almost died due to her negligence. What a foolish excuse for a deputy she was.

But even as her thoughts began to sink again, as the dark mist began to rise up and threaten to embrace her once more, she was interrupted. Poppypaw's head was underneath hers, once more pushing her up, and she found herself in a familiar position. Tired, light blue eyes met a determined green as the she-cats' noses touched. They both shivered in the cold, feeling the breeze that ruffled their damp fur, but they stood, gazes locked. Confident, loving words far beyond the apprentice's age echoed clearly through their little patch of forest.

"I'm happy to have you, always, Perchfall. Don't ever forget that."

The words were so strong, so sincere, that for a moment Perchfall just had to stand and comprehend them. For eyes so darkly green, they shone with the brightest sparkle she had ever seen; more bright than the falseness of the sun that glinted off the rushing water before. A tone so earnest it took her breath away. Poppypaw... she would be the best warrior that RiverClan had seen in years. Perhaps ever. And for some reason... Poppypaw loved her mentor. The mess-up, screw-up, antisocial deputy of RiverClan. If Poppypaw liked her-- maybe she was okay? At least a little?

A small smile found its way onto Perchfall's face, forcing its way past the exhaustion and fear and self-hatred. Finally, it felt like the sun was warm again. "Thank you," the deputy purred quietly, almost a whisper. She was barely audible, but the apprentice was so close that she would be heard. "For what it's worth, you are an amazing apprentice. I am so proud of you." Then, muscles trembling, she allowed herself to lay down, following Poppypaw's example. They should go back to camp and talk to Cloverheart, she knew that... but, they were both exhausted from fighting the current. First, they could lay here in the sun. Just for a little while. Maybe everything would be okay.