a word [closed for ripped]

Sun streamed in through the canopy of trees, warming the ground she stood on and burrowing through her long fur to warm her. Despite being older than some of the warriors in the clan, she still bore her apprentice name, something she directly attributed to the way she clung to the shadows with the occupation of the Dark Forest and the absence of her sister, Achelois. Briefly her chest ached and she swallowed hard, staring at her paws before taking another step towards her intended destination.

The last time she had entered this den, Achelois was alive. Her family was alive. Now her once-father lay dead, the terror brought alongside him finally gone, her siblings had either scattered to SkyClan or died with Klaus, her half-family too distant to connect with. Really, ironically, all she had left was the leader her sister had always been intensely fond of, who had allowed them entrance and allowed them to stay despite the wrongdoings of their kin. Swallowing hard, she took another step forward, finding that she had arrived at her destination rather fast.

Thistlepaw took a deep breath, heart hammering in her chest like she had run the length of the forest and back.

"Stoatstar?" she called in, voice soft and slightly crackly with a lack of use and nerves. "Can we talk?"

Hearing the voice shocked him from his stupor. Stoatstar was hunched over in his nest, eyes glaze over, and muttering softly as he sorted through his thoughts. It was a far-cry from the deadened expression that had been across his features for the past moon. Something had been renewed in the little leader. What once was an all consuming lack of feeling and abandoned care, he had now been left to wrestle with an overwhelming torrent of emotions. There was no doubt that he had failed the clan despite his best efforts. So many cats had suffered in the fallout.

Of course, there was a grieving loss. As much as he wanted to sit and sulk, the brown and white tom was not afforded such a luxury. After the death of Minkstar, and then Thrushnose, Stoatstar had been forced to face the challenges ahead. Previously, he had simply carried on and done what he could to support the clan. But having to sit and stew in his own emotions as they faced the Dark Forest had pushed him in ways that he could not have imagined. The den became smaller and its entrance had pulled further away. Stoatstar withdrew into himself as a means of weathering the storm, yet found it only stranded him alone.

There was so much to worry about and he needed to find some way to sort it. But that would wait for after he attended to his clan. He owed them that much. Pausing for a brief moment to name the cat whose voice called out, his head tilted. Thistlepaw had never spoken to him before. What could have been so urgent to break this unspoken vow of silence? Perhaps it was the way in which she too had been sequestered as well with a shrinking circle of close companions. Or maybe he was thinking too much into it. Shuffling to face the entrance of the den, he shook out his coat and responded, "Yeah? Come in, Thistlepaw. How can I help you?"

She had only had to wait for a few mere heartbeats before his response echoed out, but she could have easily mistaken the time for full moons with how she could feel her heart thumping hard in her throat, threatening to silence her. A calico head pushed through the entrance to the leaders den as she allowed herself in, and her eyes met the mildly dishevelled form of her leader and mentor. Alarm bells were practically screaming in her head, the carefully rehearsed words now falling apart as Thistlepaw realised they now had to be said out loud.

The molly sat a little ways away, a twitching tail-tip the biggest indicator of her discomfort and anxiety, the silence stretching out as she struggled to compose herself to speak once more.

"I wanted to thank you, firstly." her voice was crackling as the words dredged themselves from deep within, and she stared at the floor as she attempted to continue talking.

"I know it wasn't easy to take in myself and Achelois with our parentage, but thank you for giving us a chance. Um, not that she's really around anymore," Thistlepaw whispered the last bit, eyes instinctively watering up as she thought of the loss of her favourite sister. Swallowing hard, she bit back the grief and stuck to the script that had almost entirely unravelled at this point.

"I also wanted to share my condolences. I didn't realise... I didn't know that Thrushnose was your mother." Thistlepaw's chest ached a little with the guilt of it, finding out through gossip that her father was responsible for the murder of the ThunderClan warrior, having decided immediately to bear the emotional burden of it upon her shoulders. "And for Morningsun and Dustcloud. Their vigils were lovely," she murmured, tail swishing against the floor now.

She had so much to say, but lacked the ability to spit the words out.

"And I have one last thing." The apprentice steeled herself a little, embarrassed by the words about to come out of her mouth. "I... admire and beyond respect you, Stoatstar. I know my training has been slow, and I've been hesitant to be a member of this clan - especially with Achelois gone - but ThunderClan has become my home. I would like to resume my training and become a full member of this clan." Thistlepaw's previous timid behaviour had began to wane with her speech to the leader, but there was still a torrent of emotion swimming within, especially as she vocalised her devotion to the clan that had taken her in.

I want to thank you. Stoatstar was shocked, his eyes widened ever so slightly without a thought. There were two reasons this struck him so dramatically. The first was that Thistlepaw had hardly ever spoken a word to him, even in their training sessions. Additionally, what she said was the last thing he could have anticipated hearing. For moons, cats had questioned him, or held their tongues during dutiful care but... never thanked him. Never before had he been so easily stunned into silence. He blinked several times, slowly, as she continued.

His eyes fell slightly, a more stoic look replacing the surprise. She was grieving. Thistlepaw was more than warrior-aged but the sadness and vulnerability in her demeanor make her feel much younger. Had he felt like it was his place, the leader might have taken a step or two forward and touched his tail gingerly to her pelt. Instead, he was rooted to the nest with his tail tip twitching. It felt wrong to do nothing, to say nothing, so as she continued to speak he leaned forward slightly. At least Thistlepaw would know he was invested as a leader and mentor and maybe understand despite it all that he did care deep down.

Stoatstar was silent the entire time, nodding every so often in acknowledgement, or allowing his ear to flick. As she mentioned Thrushnose, his chest tightened and clenched with a memory or unimaginable pain. Grief might have been shoved deep into the recesses of his being but it had hardly died away. It occurred to him that without the comfort of the sister she'd been so close to, perhaps the she-cat shared in a similar agony, loneliness. The recognition softened his features. A mention of Morningsun and Dustcloud too... Thistlepaw was far more than a former rogue. More than Dawnhawk's kit. She was a Thunderclan cat.

Having already found the conclusion solidified in his mind, what came next was easier to disgest. After being secluded for so long, Stoatstar was still tearing at an internal scab that had long healed over. Relating to others had never been easy anyways. So, while healing, he'd continued to wrestle with the seclusion. A moment like this gave him no choice but to be plucked from behind the insurmountable blockade. Her final sentiment threatened his own tears would form. The clan had not entirely shyed away entirely from alotting their fallen leader any kindness but venomous words echoed louder than the support in his head.

Stoatstar let out a soft laugh, mixed with a sigh - some form of exhale for this thing he'd held in for so long. There was relief. At some point his gaze had flickered away to fixate on the wall but now it turned back to face her, "I have to say the last cat I expected in my den, speaking so freely, was you. But I'm glad. I'm glad you're here, Thistlepaw. Thank you for that." The admission made his chest pound, such raw and straightforward honestly. Admittedly, he felt a little flustered by the whole thing, given how seen he felt in the moment.

"For what it's worth, I think you'll be a great warrior. I'd love to continue your training. And... I'm sorry. About your sister. She's missed around camp, I miss her, even if time was short." Loonpaw had aggravated him in all the best ways. Her persistent and goofy nature brought sparks of light he had not appreciated until it was too late. Like all good things, he supposed. At least Thistlepaw was giving him the chance to be different, "It's better to not be alone though while grieving. And I don't think we are." Stoatstar mused before falling silent once again.

Despite her gaze being firmly trained on the ground, she could feel the surprise emanating off the tom at her words, and appreciated how he respected her need to blurt everything out before he spoke himself. Really, the molly was expecting a half-hearted line of gratitude; something more entrenched in formality, perhaps even a slightly awkward statement as he juggled the intense emotions she threw his way.

Instead, Stoatstar surprised her in turn. But I'm glad. I'm glad you're here, Thistlepaw.

Thistlepaw's chest ached a little with the sudden rush of intense emotion, blinking away the water that quickly appeared along the line of her eyes. It was enough to draw her eyes upwards, just in time for him to express his thoughts about her becoming a warrior, and his condolences about the death of her sister, and she swallowed hard against the dryness of her throat in a desperate bid to fight back tears.

She was about to whisper out another thank you, before he interjected once more, and for the first time in moons the overwhelming feeling in her head and her chest seemed to dissipate a little; like a gentle breeze after an intense storm. His words broke through the mess of emotion and confusion she had been left in a state of, and she was content to sit in silence for a while, appreciating the company of her leader, and one who was equally overshadowed by grief.

Thistlepaw was unsure how long she had allowed the lapse in conversation to stretch out, finding immense comfort in it. Eventually she stood, took a few hesitant steps towards the tom, and rested her tail on his shoulder. "I'll be here if you need me, Stoatstar. It's really the least I can do." Her voice was soft, an attempt at comforting him like her mother had comforted her in kithood, but she immediately took a few steps as she worried about her physical and emotional overstepping.

A lack of emotional connection beyond Achelois in her formative moons had negatively impacted her ability to discern when displays of vulnerability like this were acceptable, but she always became immediately aware after the fact of how odd her response had been. Internally cursing herself out, she begin to trace her steps back, deciding it was about time she got moving anyways.

"Errrr. But I guess so would everyone. You're not- you're never going to be alone. In a few short and rough moons you've proved your care for everyone several times over, and-" She was doing it again, this time more a nervous stammer. "I'm carrying on a little too much." Her whiskers twitched in amusement at herself, and she shed the awkward stammering for a voice with a little more formality.

"But thank you, again. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow." With that, Thistlepaw took her leave.