lost in yesterday (o)

Thistlemask had been truly avoiding the ravine she called home, her worries growing to full-blown terror, despite how weak the washed up ShadowClan cats were at this current point in time. It didn't matter, she knew of their strength, even when caught entirely by surprise. Her chest hurt whenever she lingered in camp too long, and so she had been out hunting or patrolling from sunrise until sunset almost every day at this point, desperate to not cause a problem, hoping the other clan would be able to return home soon and she could go back to avoiding them at all costs.

But the nonstop outings were tiring her, paws dragging in the mud as she returned home with a sparrow in her jaws, her catches becoming sloppier with the self-imposed exhaustion. As she dropped it on the fresh-kill pile, she looked around camp nervously, eyes darting between all the different cats as she desperately hoped none of them would notice her. Still anxious, but satisfied everyone around was engrossed in their own conversations, Thistlemask settled into a shadowy corner of camp, hoping her diluted calico pet would be covered under darkness until she was ready to get back out and continue her avoidance.

Nightstalker had spent a few sunsets running around like a lizard with its head cut off, looking after his clan, accounting for those he could, and delegating the best he could. But he was sick with worry, for all those unaccounted for, worried that Froststar may have already lost all his lives somehow. Swiftheart was gone too, and somehow that felt even worse. Sure they had grown a bit distant since he had claimed his title as deputy, his duties running him ragged. But now... now he could relax a bit despite the circumstances. But an idle brain gets bored easily, so Nightstalker was looking at his new clan-mates for the time being, sizing up the competition for the future. It would be a wasted opportunity to see what forces Thunderclan had, and he now knew where their camp was, surrounded by thick brambles, which would be a problem to get through... unless you were a sleek and lean clan with a smaller than average size.

And one cat caught his eyes. He squinted, and his jaw nearly fell open in shock. That was the rogue he fought when they had tried to raid their camp! A growl rumbled from his throat as he made his way to his paws, his hackles standing on end, however brief. Nightstalker knew that he'd have little to no other opportunity to talk to the rogue. Not that he wanted to talk with words, but he knew his position, and he was sure he could ruin the rogues standing in Thunderclan with what they had done to Shadowclan. He slunk over, his dark coat blending him into the numerous shadows that cast Thunderclan's camp, and silent as a ghost he stalked up to the rogue.

"You." Nightstalker growled, sitting himself next to the rogue in her corner, blocking her way out, unless she wanted to fight her way out. "What is a cankerous sore such as yourself doing here? Plotting to skin mothers like you did last time?" Nightstalker snarled, keeping his voice level and quiet. For now.

To say Beetleshade was displeased with Shadowclan's temporary occupation would have been an understatement. She'd accepted it, albeit reluctantly, but she didn't trust any of them and had been keeping one eye open for one of them to place so much as a single whisker out of line. She understood their need for shelter, stars she'd seen their injuries firsthand and knew it would be impossible for them to make the trek back home, if their home was even habitable. But sleeping next to an enemy clan just didn't feel right, and she doubted it ever would.

The last few sunrises had been busy, with every cat running to and fro to gather bedding and herbs so that the Shadowclan cats would be comfortable. Beetleshade didn't see the need to exhaust herself for a clan she'd likely meet in battle someday, so she'd been avoiding Mottlerose's pesky patrol assignments whenever she could, opting instead to hunt or patrol by herself, as she usually did. She got up to set out on yet another of her solo hunts when she noticed her clanmate in a shady corner of the camp. Though Beetleshade hadn't seen Thistlemask around camp much, she couldn't help but notice her fellow warrior didn't seem happy with the Shadowclan cats either. In fact, one might go as far as to say she'd been avoiding them, and the camp, entirely. Eyes gleaming, Beetleshade's turned to head over, an idea brewing in her mind. Maybe if more than one cat was upset, Minnowstar would finally see reason and send their guests to Riverclan or Skyclan.

Just as she was about to reach Thistlemask, her path was intercepted by the dark-furred Shadowclan deputy. Nightstalker, or something, if she remembered correctly? She wasn't close enough to overhear his hushed words, but based on his body language she doubted he was just saying hello. Now Beetleshade didn't exactly get along with all her clanmates, but she'd be hard-pressed to let some frog-eater threaten any of them, regardless of how annoying they might be.

"Greetings." She said as she joined the duo, nodding to both cats. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced. I'm Beetleshade."

She sized Nightstalker up through slitted yellow eyes, her tail flicking. The tom certainly looked intimidating, but she was sure she could do his job better than him if given the chance.

Growing up as a rogue had heightened her ability to pick out movement within shadows, Klaus and Hyacinth taking extensive measures to train their kits in survivability in all conditions - even if she had left The Order early, she had not left early enough to avoid participation in the fight against ShadowClan; something she looked back on with horror and disgust at herself. It had taken moons to watch the blood off her paws, even when there was no scarlet to be observed, and it had taken even longer to go to sleep at night without the acrid tang of blood staining her nose.

She watched Nightstalker, knowing this was inevitable. And yet, she still rose to her paws, meeting his malice with her own, no longer feeling remorse when looking at Apollo's murderer. Plotting to skin mothers like you did last time? Thistlemask fought the urge to bare her teeth, but her tail lashed against the ground. "Are you planning to kill another of my kin? Me, perhaps?" She growled in return, keeping her voice equally quiet as she looked past the tom to watch Beetleshade approach, forcing herself to calm in front of the other warrior.

Thistlemask dipped her head, a growl dangerously close to unleashing in her throat. "Yeah, I don't think we've ever been formally introduced either," She emphasized the formally, meeting the tom's yellow eyes with her own venomous green. Beetleshade's appearance had been briefly reassuring, but she was no fool.

The life she had carefully constructed over the past few moons was about to crumble down around her, and she had nobody to blame but herself.

Nightstalker caught onto Thistlemasks body cue relatively quickly, and forced his own body to relax, shoving down the temptation to show surprise when Beetleshade padded up towards them. His anger had him tunnel visioning, and with cats all around, that was about the worst thing he could do at the moment. "Ah hello, it's a pleasure to meet you, Beetleshade." He turned to Thistlemask, "I would assume we might as well be friends, considering what your father, Dawnhawk did. Nevertheless, I'm sure you still have some of my fur between those claws of yours. To remind you of our friendship." Nightstalker snarked, putting shock and surprise into his voice and pose, before turning back to Beetleshade. "Surely, since you're clan-mates. Beetleshade knows what you've done?" Nightstalker who was quick to hide his malice, was also quick to forget he was doing it in the first place.

"Do you have Amberdawn's pelt, Shadowclans beloved queen as nest lining? Or do you have Burningwing as a decor?" Nightstalker huffed, turning back to Beetleshade. "I hope that Thistlemask had made you aware of what she's done, as well as the rest of Thunderclan. Would be truly a shame if she's been abusing Thunderclans generosity this entire time, when at any point she could gain herself another pelt to wear... in the den next to hers." Maybe having Beetleshade there would be fun, depending on the reaction. He was planning for blind loyalty, a jump to Thistlemasks defense, but it'd be no matter when he spoke to Thunderclans leader. If they wanted such a vile, retched cat in their ranks, then he'd see to it personally that her stay in Thunderclan would be temporary.

Beetleshade's eyes widened as Thistlemask and Nightstalker each spoke, suddenly realizing the situation was far more complicated than she'd originally thought. She would never have even guessed that the two of them had history. She could hardly keep up with the accusations being thrown back and forth, each one more heinous than the last. Thistlemask, a murderer? Beetleshade didn't think her seemingly mild-mannered clanmate had it in her, though now that she knew she couldn't say she wasn't intrigued. To think she'd been sharing a den with this cat for moons! Nightstalker, on the other hand, she'd definitely suspected. There was no way a cat got such an intimidating aura without having killed a cat or two.

She weighed her options carefully, glancing between the two cats. She had no way of knowing where Thistlemask's loyalties would lie now that she'd been exposed, and Beetleshade couldn't quite dismiss the possibility of the former rogue turning on her in an effort to keep her past hidden. But maybe, just maybe, she could use this delicious bit of drama to cure her boredom.

"Thistlemask, I'm so shocked. You've had this secret for who knows how long, and you never told me? I thought we were friends..." Beetleshade said with a fabricated air of sadness, though her eyes subtly gleamed with delight. This was going to be fun.

"Does Minnowstar know about this? I find it hard to believe he would intentionally harbor a murderer without the rest of the clan knowing. And if Shadowclan's own deputy is a killer, who knows how many others in Shadowclan are willing to go against the warrior code for a little bloodshed? I must tell Minnowstar, it's for the safety of the clan, after all." Beetleshade was fighting to hide her excitement. She'd been begging for a reason to get rid of Shadowclan, how convenient that one would just plop itself in front of her claws like a piece of prey begging to be snatched. If Thistlemask had to go down too... well, that would just be collateral damage.

To say her eyes were ablaze was an understatement. Her whole body was alight, the urge to both fight and flee existing in a chaotic harmony, ducking and weaving in her brain, claws sliding in and out as she fought to breathe deeply. I am not my father, a low voice growled deep in the trenches of her mind, memories of the acrid iron tang of blood bathing every sense she had, the numbness to the horror she witnessed her parents commit keeping everything at bay for such a long time- she had only really come to when Achelois died.

The Thunderclan molly had remained silent through the Shadowclan deputy's accusations, through Beetleshade further digging Thistlemask's grave. Her head pounded and her blood boiled, but she wasn't entirely stupid - and she was nothing like the cream tom who had participated in giving her life. Any outrage, even cool indifference; any amount of it would serve to incriminate her further, to tarnish her now withering reputation. She wanted nothing more than to rip Nightstalker apart this current moment, to enact the revenge she once craved for Apollo, except she only wanted it for herself and to avenge the damage he was about to do to her life.

But in doing so - could she handle the rogue life again? Returning to her mother and The Order, carrying on her father's legacy - what she only ever wanted to avoid. It wasn't unlike her to remain silent, something she was banking on as the duo turned to her expectantly, Nightstalker maliciously prodding a response, Beetleshade only adding fuel to the fire. She sighed deeply, sitting and curling her tail around alabaster paws, fighting the urge to bow her head in defeat. Instead, she raised her chin defiantly, a silent challenge in her eyes. Her brain whirred, desperately trying to figure a way out of this.

"Mottlerose knows, Stoatstar knew - I have no doubt if Minnowstar doesn't know, he will know soon enough. Here," She grit her teeth, looking past the warriors, "I'll tell him myself. I'm done hiding this. Minnowstar! Mottlerose!" The calico yowled for the leadership duo, uncaring of the attention she drew from other warriors.

"You wanna hear the truth?" She looked at Beetleshade, a slightly manic look in her eyes. "Then listen closely, friend."

The exhaustion had made its way under the tortoiseshell deputy's pelt. What once was a bleeding heart had managed to scab over, and for the first time in moons, it seemed that frustration was all that could crawl beneath her skin. Shadowclan's residence within their walls had only helped her hardening, and perhaps it was for the best. Thunderclan needed leadership that was strong, not simply a compassionate heart for the forest to walk all over. It had its place to be kind, Morningsun had taught everyone in Thunderclan that message. But at the same time, Stoatstar had taught her that justice and stoicism had their place, too. That was one lesson that had always stuck with her.

Perhaps now it was time for it to be used.

Maybe it was the fact that all but one of her children had made it to apprenticehood, with no seeming way for her to be able to help. Perhaps it was the fact that Minnowstar had been always buried with duties of his own, so she had no true time to spend alone with her mate, and was mourning it all. It could even possibly be that she had no apprentice of her own currently, stuck within the confines of her own mind of how best to help the Clan. To be swamped by her own grief. To be perpetually stuck whirring in how best she could help others, but also help herself as well. It was yet another lesson she had learned from Stoatstar, that selflessness can easily end up being just as costing to the Clan as being selfish and stubborn.

Existing within the confines of the leader's den that she shared with her mate, she was snapped from her thoughts at the call of her name. It didn't take more than a single heartbeat to know whose voice it was, which only further drew her attention. Unthinking paws found the deputy to her paws, quickly making her way over. It was seldom that she ever heard Thistlemask's voice grow loud, the molly having previously been near mute in the company of others. To be called for so loudly certainly drew her attention, not to mention how close she had gotten with the warrior over the time they both had grown up. If there was any cat she could call a sister... it probably was Thistlemask.

The sight before her certainly was... peculiar to say the least. Her gaze narrowed slightly at what was in front of her. Nightstalker, accompanied by her former apprentice Beetleshade. It hadn't gone unnoticed to her that the she-cat seemed to have a particularly dramatic flare, though it had never caused any harm to bring any attention to it. She was a driven warrior, to say the least. Finally, it was the molly in question. The defiant rise of her chin, the posture of the she-cat that seemed to have an air of defense... she knew this look. Perpetually on-edge, having to calculate the next move as if it was life-or-death. She hadn't seen this look from Thistlemask in quite a long time. Her tail flicked with a mixture of emotions as she forced her gaze into neutrality, instead of the glare of You better not be the cause of this that she wanted to toss to the Shadowclanner.

It was slightly unfortunate for the lot of them that they happened to catch the deputy on a day in which frustration lingered beneath her pelt. If the stars had any favor in her way... they'd bring her peace. "Is everything alright, Thistlemask?" Somehow, her voice showed promise of that very peace. While just slightly agitated, there was no bite of venom, sounding much more like she had been roused from a nap for something silly than as if she was ready to bite a few heads off. ... Speaking of, the rumble of her stomach was probably part of why. It hit the tortoiseshell's mind in that moment that she had forgotten to eat... whoops.

"You can tell whoever you like, but it is your mouth that it would be coming from, not my own. So what would there be to trust? Besides, I'm not actually the cat that killed what's his name... Apollo? He was actually a breath from ending my own life, had it not been Ratrunner I wouldn't be here today. Ratrunner's dead now so- I'm actually guiltless in all of this." Nightstalker snarked, hardly phased that Beetleshade was threatening to out him for murder as if it was actually true. He shrugged apathetically as if it didn't exactly bother him, but it hurt to speak so flippantly about Ratrunner and his sacrifice. When Mottlerose padded over, he schooled his features a bit more, though he was certainly very pleased that this was happening. Mottlerose would realize how dangerous this she-cat was and remove her from Thunderclan, surely?