Brackenpaw's Starclan Dream

The young medicine cat had been staying in his den more often than usual. Since the death of two queens in front of his eyes, he had committed to his work, even more, making sure the herb storage was never empty and that he always had a bundle of herbs by the entrance, ready for any emergency. Fawnsong... couldn't afford another clanmate dying. Not by the Dark Forest's claws. His amber eyes suddenly lost focus on the herbs he was working through to look at the entrance. Dusk was approaching, meaning that an apprentice would soon enter his cave for a 'meeting with Starclan'. The tom sighed, not really sure why he continue subjecting these young cats to these fruitless dreams. But... what else was he supposed to do? If at least one of them was able to see a glimpse of the starry plains...

Brackenpaw slunk into the medicine den with her head and tail low, ears flat against her skull. 'Meet with Starclan' Fawnsong had said, and all Brackenpaw could feel was a bitter sense of dismay. Stars? She'd wanted to ask, what stars? There were none in the cloudy sky that she could see, and the idea of meeting these supposed ancestors, likely not even hers - Swiftspirit's rogue origins were perfectly known, as Raisha had so nastily pointed out, and she knew little about Bearspirit save that he'd been a brave warrior and kindhearted, but Riverclan - meant little. The dark forest cats were supposedly their ancestors too. They'd killed Swiftspirit, and they'd killed Mistysky. The thought made tears sting her eyes once again, and Brackenpaw paused, eyeing the nest that had been laid out for her skeptically. If Starclan existed, would they be like that? Swiftspirit had said otherwise, but Brackenpaw wasn't sure she believed it. The idea of some starry, picturesque landscape seemed like a utopia that couldn't possibly exist. Just some nursery tale, she was sure, something to make the world seem a little less harsh to a young kit.

After another tense, reluctant moment, Brackenpaw curled into a tight ball in the nest without being prompted. She was here, might as well get this over with, no matter how silly she thought the idea. Part of her wanted to believe that she'd see someone. Mom, maybe, or perhaps even the father she'd never met. Anything to lessen the sting of the horrible creatures that lurked in camp and followed the movements of every cat. Anything to prove those filthy, wretched beasts weren't the only thing out there. Falling asleep took a while. This nest wasn't hers, it wasn't nestled among those of her siblings. It was unfamiliar and cold. Eventually sleep came after restless tossing and turning, and Brackenpaw blinked to find herself standing in Windclan's camp, the sounds of an argument in progress around her.

Mom had been so upset, and Tawnyflare... Raisha, whatever the bull called herself, a meanspirited foxheart. And more, a violent one who picked on grieving queens that could hardly be expected to defend themselves properly.

'Meet with Starclan' her aching tail. It was all a lie. False hopes to keep cats complacent, nothing more.

Brackenpaw blinked awake, hardly feeling rested at all as the 'dream' dissipated. Her heart pounded in her chest, unpleasant reminder of what she'd witnessed something that would never just fade into the back of her mind. "It was just a normal dream." She glared up sullenly up at the medicine cat, not quite able to hide the bitter note of accusation and betrayal in her voice. "What was the point of this?"

Unlike other apprentices, Fawnsong could sense Brackenpaw's frustrations. He didn't say anything about them and quietly instructed her to lay down and sleep in the moss bed he had prepared for her. Just like the last times, the tom slept on his own bed, watching over the apprentice during the night.

When dawn arrived, Fawnsong didn't really expect any different to happen. He opened his amber eyes and waited for the apprentice to wake up. As usual, Brackenpaw informed him of the lack of Starclan in the supposed "Starclan dream" and he flicked his tail, frustrated. However, unexpectedly, the she-cat now confronted him with an accusatory tom. The tom's serious expression remained unfaced and he answered her with honesty. "To be honest, I have no idea." He looked defeated. The deaths of Swiftspirit and Mistysky had left him hopeless, in a state of constant gloom. The scarred medicine cat felt lost, only able to keep repeating what he was supposed to do as a medicine cat. Yet... what kind of medicine cat was he, unable to save his clanmates and communicate with Starclan? He understood why Brackenpaw was frustrated with him and if he knew how the tom would bring back the stars to them. But Fawnsong was merely a cat... a maimed warrior who had lost his path. "I don't know how to bring them back... But for now, this is all we can do. Just keep trying."

All Brackenpaw heard in Fawnsong's voice was that he had no hopes of the stars returning, either. "Nothing will bring them back, will they? We're just stuck with those- those beasts in camp?" Perhaps it was unfair of Brackenpaw to have been so harsh and accusatory, but she wanted her mother back. To hear there was a chance of seeing the dead that she actually cared about and then to just have a normal dream stung, even as she'd tried desperately not to get her hopes up.

"Sorry." She muttered eventually, "I'm just... Going to go now." Brackenapw turned away, making her way toward the den entrance while trying to hide the tears that threatened to spill over. Maybe she could find one of her siblings and curl up with them before they all had to get to training for the day.