Bristling Thorns [Briarthorn]

The late-newleaf day was warm, sun beating down from a cloudless sky making Beechfang stick to the shadows of the trees as she buried a squirrel. She'd mostly come out to take a walk, feeling trapped and stifled sitting around in camp, but the squirrel had darted across her path and she wasn't one to pass up the opportunity for more prey on the fresh-kill pile.

The dark forest were finally gone, though it hadn't been without a cost. Myrtledove was gone to the stars, and the fool Lionboar with him. Dawnhawk was gone, hopefully for good. And Smokefeather... It wasn't fair. She'd sacrificed herself to ensure Dawnhawk's defeat, and now she was just... Gone? Vanished in a puff of dust, when moments before she'd been fighting alongside her clanmates as if she'd never been retired to the elder's den at all. She'd fought beside Briarthorn and then beside Aether, even, two cats who she had no reason to want to be anywhere near and who had no reason to fight alongside her, but they had done so. It was strange to think of either cat being true to Skyclan at all, but...

Well, so much for the walk helping to clear her mind, she thought with a shake of her head.

Though Briarthorn's original intention was to get out of camp and have time to herself, she knew that there were many souls within those walls that wished to do the same. The expectation had been that once she got far enough from the seemingly suffocating camp walls, she'd be able to walk on her own, process her thoughts, and... Well, simply exist without the pressure of those around her to look, feel, or be a certain way. It had become painfully obvious to her, however, that that goal had become unattainable. As she was padding through the territory, her sights landing on a scarred-up, almost pitiful-looking she-cat. Beechfang. The two of them had never really gotten along... That much was an understatement. She knew her presence likely wouldn't go unnoticed, but simply ignoring the other she-cat almost felt rude. So, Briarthorn cleared her throat and murmured, "Nice catch."

Of course her thoughts would seem to summon one of the cats to her, when all she'd wanted was peace and quiet. Briarthorn's voice was quiet, unwelcome, and Beechfang was sure her greeting was nothing more than the bare minimum of politeness. "Thanks," Beechfang mewed somewhat awkwardly. She hadn't thought she would run into someone out here, much less a cat she'd done her best to avoid while not being all that friendly towards. "Couldn't stay stuck in camp any longer, either?" Beechfang's tone lacked the typical edge of hostility she might have normally faced Briarthorn with. She couldn't seem to find the energy for her usual anger today. She'd... Fought alongside Smokefeather, against Dawnhawk. For all that she hadn't liked Briarthorn, she could respect the former Shadowclanner for that, she supposed.

Briarthorn dipped her head in response to the other warrior, a gentle smile creepinng across her maw at the next remark. Along with the slightest chuckle, almost more akin to a puff of air, she mewed, ”No. It’s almost… suffocating. Too much has happened there, I don’t know how anyone can find peace.” She drew in a deep inhale, letting it out as she scanned the forest floor surrounding them. ”It’ll settle eventually, I suppose. Hopefully.” Briarthorn’s tail gently brushed the ground, stirring the fee fallen leaves and crisp, fresh grasses.

Beechfang couldn't help but nod in agreement. She'd expected she wasn't the only one feeling suffocated in camp where so much blood had been shed, though it was strange to find something in common with Briarthorn of all cats. "Peace... I've forgotten what that feels like." As she spoke, she realized it was true. Maybe she'd never known it. Not since the fire when she'd been an apprentice, at least. Perhaps the closest she'd gotten was being made a warrior after so long. Beechfang shook her head, a sigh escaping her. "Maybe with him gone we might find it again." 'Him' being her littermate, of course. "Always dreamed I would be the one to rip his throat out eventually." Funny how she'd wound up unwittingly training with his underlings, instead.

”You’re not alone in that, at least.” Briarthorn responded gently. A small beetle scurried past her, and she watched it lazily as it retreated into a nearby patch of thick green grass. ”Perhaps. The forest has a way of stirring up dust just when you think it’s settled, though. But I don’t think it can get much worse than what SkyClan has already experienced.” Briarthorn smiled at the sentiment, despite how dark it might seem to someone uninvolved. ”As long as it happened, I couldn’t have cared less who did it. I can imagine the satisfaction you might’ve felt, though.” With a sigh, Briarthorn looked across to the molly. ”Frankly, I don’t know what’s next. I was born into infighting and aggression between my mother and father’s Clans, then the Righteous Few. Then him, then Vea and her rogues, and the Dark Forest… Call me crazy, but I’m not sure I know what to do when there isn’t something gone wrong.”

If she hadn't been so tired, Briarthorn's gentle words would've shocked her into anger, perhaps. All she could muster up was a moment of surprise... And something else. Of all cats Briarthorn would've been well within her right to spit and keep walking.

"I've learned not to question it, the stars take that as a challenge." Her whiskers twitched, dark humor maybe, but how else was one supposed to deal with it? Even Beechfang was sick of feeling angry and lost all the time. "Dad was right, we helped create that monster. He had to die, I suppose it doesn't matter who did it." Beechfang sighed. "Thank you. For that." The words stuck in her throat awkwardly.

Something not going wrong, to have peace for even a moon... What a funny notion. "Something gone wrong is our normal. I don't think I'd know what to do either... Probably nobody in this family does."

Briarthorn allowed the slightest hint of a genuine smile to tug at the corner of her maw. ”I’ve got a suspicion you’re probably right about that.” She simply opted to nod in agreement when it came to her bext remark about Dawnhawk, or… Morningstar, whatever he referred to himself as. Then, she shook her head at the thanks that Beechfang awkwardly offered her. ”I was only doing what was expected of me. Anyone else would have, too.”

”I suppose we’ll all have to actually find hobbies. Figure out something to do now that we’re not being attacked, taken over, and terrorized.” Though her tone was sarcastic, the words she spoke were true- the strange reality for her was that she truly had no clue what came next.

"For once I'd like to be proven wrong." Beechfang huffed... And then realized she... kinda... had been proven wrong. Maybe. Not about the subject at paw, of course, but Briarthorn and her were... being civil. The cat she'd scorned for so long because of the unfortunate timing of her relationship with Bloodstar wasn't... Wasn't as bad as she would've liked to say. She'd fought for Skyclan, and here they were joking around and making sarcastic comments. How long had she clung to the idea she'd had of the former Shadowclanner? Beechfang had had a reason, of course, at the start anyways. But Bloodstar and Briarthorn hadn't been the only ones to enter a forbidden relationship either. Perhaps Bloodstar had been right about a few things... Not that Beechfang would ever tell him that to his face. The clan could never handle that boost to his ego.

"Fine, fine." She muttered, not at all comfortable with the direction her thoughts had taken her, "Maybe I was wrong about you. I know I was a foxheart in the past. So... uhm. Sorry?" Beechfang could acknowledge that her behavior had been terrible, apologizing was another beast entirely, and the awkwardness alone almost made her turn tail right then and there.

Briarthorn nodded, sharing the same frustrations are Beechfang did about the entire situation. ”Sometimes I wonder if StarClan is even worth it. Trying, I mean. All these moons, just to spend our days in the stars while our descendants suffer and die below us. Doesn’t sound like eternal bliss to me.” What Beechfang said next took her aback. Her maw parted slightly, at a loss for words. After a moment’s thought, she closed her maw and shook her head. ”Your anger was justified. I should apologize to you, if anything. I disrupted things, rubbed dirt in fresh wounds. And then made an even bigger mess of things. So I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.” Briarthorn’s whiskers began twitching in the stretch of silence that followed, and eventually she shook her head. ”If we’re good now, that’s all that matters.”

"No," Beechfang agreed, "And they've watched this clan suffer for seasons without lifting a claw. They were eager enough to strike a cat with lightning for the actions of two idiot apprentices at their precious gathering, though. After that I didn't see them in my dreams at all, even while I was still a medicine cat. I go to the moonstone with Muddythorn as an apprentice, and was lectured by an old hag that might've passed for a warrior at one point. Couldn't seem to understand how a cat might be bitter after everything. Was perfectly happy to blame the living for everything wrong too, despite the stars having plenty of power to act when they choose to." Beechfang had never forgiven Bearflower or Cloverheart for the agony she'd suffered through, and that trip to the moonstone had only driven her further from the stars and fueled her resentment.

"I hardly recognized my own father when Ravenclaw dragged him back to camp after fighting the Asylum. And Smokefeather..." Beechfang shook her head, "Neither of them handled it well. At all. Dealing with them both in the medicine den... I wonder if I didn't lose my mind too. I wanted someone to blame and then you were there." Beechfang shrugged, and sighed, perhaps Copperfox had been right all those moons ago. The Asylum had never truly left. Maybe now she could dig their claws out of her flesh, or at least start to. "You couldn't have known the mess you were about to step in."

Beechfang was right about all of it - StarClan, in general, sucked. And if they didn’t, they’d done a horrid job of proving it. ”I doubt they’d even accept me into their ranks at this point, but if they did, I don’t think I could stand it. Having the power to save your loved ones grief and suffering… And instead choosing not to use that power. It’s cruel.” The large she-cat nodded in acceptance of her explanation, knowing that she couldn’t blame the she-cat. ”I don’t suppose I’d have wanted anything different even if I did know. There’s death, and losses, and pain here… But ShadowClan had that too. At least here, I have a family. What’s left of one, at least. I have a life worth living. I never had that there, never felt wanted or even accepted. So even if I did know, I don’t think I’d change it.” Biting her tongue, Briarthorn hesitated a bit and stumbled over her next statement. ”I have regrets, many of them. Coming here is not one of them. And you’re part of that, whether we love or hate each other. So… Thank you. For not clawing my pelt off.”

It was cruel - beyond cruel, really. "I don't know that I could sit idly by and watch. It's enough not being able to do much to help the living when I don't have that sort of power at my paws. It just makes every failure to save someone's suffering sting more." The scars stretching from the top of her head to the base of her tail from Dawnhawk's claws would always be a reminder that she didn't have the power to stop him. Seeing Featherkit in her dreams, walking into camp bruised and bloody only to find Blossomstep and Maplepaw's bodies... The living had alawys been powerless. Dawnhawk was well and truly gone, and it had only taken the sacrifices of their already-dead mother and their clanmates to bring about his downfall. Beechfang was under no illusions that the living could've managed that alone.

"I suppose every clan has their troubles, don't they?" And the rogues and loners with nobody to rely on but themselves, what  miserable existence that must've been. Not as pitiable as the life of a pampered kittypet who knew nothing of the world, Beechfang was certain. Briarthorn was right, she truly wouldn't have known what to do with a peaceful existence. "I can relate to feeling like I didn't fit in and wasn't wanted. With the medicine cats, though. Skyclan... I think I ostracized myself more than they did me when I was younger.

All I'd wanted was to be the best warrior, I was the deputy's apprentice. We killed this massive dog in twolegplace, my parents, Dawnpaw and I. It had broken free of its' tether and attacked Wolfcall before we could stop it. Beyond reckless of two young warriors and barely-named apprentices, and dad was still hurt from the fire. I was so proud of it. Sagelight would have to reconsider wanting me as his apprentice. And if he didn't, there was always my brother to fight with, he liked tormenting me about it, I liked making things worse. Nobody could understand why Sagelight wanted me and not somebody less... Volatile, I guess? Not the other medicine cats, not our clanmates. Not even my parents. I'm not sure even Sagelight understood. Even Wolfcall thought it was a joke at first. I wound up being the one to bring Dawnhawk to the moonstone, even." She shook her head, a strained laugh escaping her, "He was the only one who ridiculed me for becoming a medicine cat, even still. Fighting came easy. Herbs and healing injuries didn't and he knew it. He was a brilliant hunter and had everything going for him, while I'd had everything I wanted ripped away. Sure mom was awful to him, but he wasn't forced into something he hated with every fiber of his being and I resented him just as much as I resented the ones who thought I should be a medicine cat. And every other medicine cat seemed like they fit into the role perfectly. Even the ones who had trained as warriors first. But I'm rambling. Sorry." Her whiskers twitched and Beechfang shook her head, falling silent for a moment. Briarthorn spoke of regret, something Beechfang had become very familiar with over the seasons.

"I'm not sure I'd trust the words of someone who lived such an enviable - pitiable -  life to know nothing or regret. We've lived, we've made our choices, both good ones and bad ones." Had Beechfang ever made a good choice? She wasn't sure. There were a lot of bad ones she could think of off the top of her head. Like handing off her kits to Ravenclaw. She'd raised them to become better cats than Beechfang could ever be... But she still regretted how things had ended. Regretted never letting them know she was their mother until it was too late. Or how she'd been a shoot-first, questions-later type. That had never backfired on her, of course. "There's a lot of things I could've handled better than I did. They stay with you, like another scar." Some of those scars were visible. Others weren't.

"Family has kept me going through the worst of it, even when I lashed out at my biggest supporters. Family has destroyed whatever sanity I may have had, too. I think I'm still grateful for having it." She added. "You left what you knew to follow it." Even if that had been her father, and all the complexities that came with him.

Thanks had been the absolute last thing Beechfang would've expected. What a strange conversation this was, spilling her guts to this stranger she'd somehow found herself finding common ground with after seasons of irrational hatred. The response left Beechfang floundering, trying to hold her head above water as she blinked at Briarthorn.

"There's still time, don't worry." The snark was automatic, without thought. Ah, foxdung. "I- Uhm." Beechfang huffed, staring at her paws for a moment. "I don't... I don't hate you. Whatever this conversation is it's... I'm not blinded by my own hurt like I was. You're Skyclan, if I'm sure of nothing else." What a strange, strange conversation this had been.

Briarthorn simply sat in silence and listened as Beechfang spoke about her kithood through now- what she’d been through and experienced. It was a good reminder to the she-cat that you’re not always aware of what others go through, and you can’t always judge them so harshly as a result. For a brief moment, she wondered if perhaps Dawnhawk himself was simply misunderstood from an early age, snowballing rage and hurt until it resulted in whatever monster he’d become… But she wuickly shook that thought away. Anyone with an ounce of empathy, compassion, or respect would do the things Dawnhawk had, and laugh about it all the while.

Beechfang’s comment about scars hit home with Briarthorn. Her physical scars often remained hidden beneath her thick coat of fur, save for a few of the worst. She supposed that same concept applied to her psychological scars that she hid behind a blank stare. ”Leaving was easy, to tell you the truth. I was not loved, never felt welcome, or a part of anything. I had relatives, but not family.” Briarthorn bit her lip. She didn’t need to make this harder on herself by dredging up old memories, pushed down by moons of fresh traumas. Briarthorn couldn’t help but let out a laugh at her snarky remark. It didn’t matter how serious the other she-cat was- this conversation had gotten awkward, and fast. More so than the rest of their interactions. ”I wouldn’t blame you if you tried.” She shot back simply. Briarthorn’s ears dropped slightly when Beechfang continued… She didn’t know how to respond. ”I don’t… Hate you, either. Thank you.” She said, otherwise at a loss for words. Ruffling out her thick coat, she attempted to shift the direction of their interaction. ”I’d better be getting back to hunting, I don’t want to go back to camp empty-pawed.”