Like You're Hanging by a Thread, But You Gotta Survive [C]

Poppyshine

Even without the sheer tragedy of losing two children’s lives, Poppyshine wished that Rowansong did not have even more hardship placed upon him. She knew that he was still recovering from his time with the twolegs, which was a subject that Poppyshine had not found the time to broach with him. He was experiencing the change of going from apprentice to warrior despite being gone for so long, and Poppyshine had not found the time to make sure he was adjusting to his new responsibilities well. Now with his siblings’ deaths on top of it all…Poppyshine was worried about him, to say the absolute least.

She looked over at Rowansong while they conducted their patrol. They’d walked in relative silence for now, but she shifted closer to him, letting her pelt brush against his. “Rowan, sweetheart…how are you doing?” She drew to a stop, beckoning him to stop with her. Worry was painted on her face. “You’ve gone through a lot recently.”

Rowansong

"I know we all want out of here, but come on! Rowie, you know what mom would say to you right now!"

It was such an inane memory for him to fixate on. Rowansong wasn’t sure if it was brought forth by his sole companion being Poppyshine, or a naive wish to hear Minksplash’s voice again. Whatever had caused it, the hiss looped quietly through his muted thoughts. The grief it sent through his heart made him nauseous– enough so he had once considered pausing their walk, though he’d quickly banished the temptation to rest.

Poppyshine’s gentle brush against his side brought his attention away from the distant horizon. With a muted hum of acknowledgment, Rowansong turned towards her. Fresh upset stirred in him when he, for the first time, frowned in response to her. “Oh? Well-” he started, then realized he wasn’t sure where the sentence had been leading. His eyes slid to look over Poppyshine’s shoulder rather than right at her as he drew to a halt.

Not well, he wanted to say. If I am to be accurate in speaking, I may choose the word miserable. Or perhaps morose. The words threatened to escape his clenched teeth. Rowansong feared he would not be able to keep the snap, meant solely for him, out of his voice. He also feared he would cry if he heard himself admit it. What would you have said? The question was tempting too, but it died before it even reached his tongue. He wasn’t even sure he could get the words out. And how have you managed to deal with losing so many before?

Eventually, he shallowly agreed, “Yes, I suppose I have.” There was a little breathless hitch on the final word, the punch of realization. It… felt odd, to agree with. He knew it. Yes, he had gone through quite a bit. It wasn’t news, particularly, but… Rowansong shook his head. While he couldn’t manage a smile for her, he at least forced the grimace from his expression, turning it into something pleasantly neutral. “But you do not have to worry about me. I have always known how to manage myself.”

It was blatantly untrue– he had always been explosive. There was even something volatile to the numbness that pressed on him now. Rowansong ducked his head, frowning at his paws. “I am fine. Truly. I imagine you have more to… to be concerned with than myself.”

Poppyshine

Sadness permeated through Poppyshine as she watched her son struggle for words. Rowansong had always been so verbose and words had come easily to him, but now he seemed to flounder as badly as she did in water. There was no doubt in her mind that losing Minksplash and Sootspirit had crushed him, as it likely had all her children. As it had to her. She wished that she could take that pain away from them, but she knew that she could not. This hurt would be something that he and the rest of her children would have to work through on their own, but she would be there to help however they needed.

Starting with Rowansong.

Poppyshine pressed up against Rowansong. “My children will always be my first concern. And right now, my concern lies squarely with you.” She licked his cheek, grooming his fur gently. “You are correct, you have always managed yourself well. I also have managed myself well, growing up—but when things were especially painful for me, I always had people who I could lean on to help me. You have that too, with me and Stormdance. I do not want you to feel as though you must bear the burden of all of your emotions on your own, my darling. You are not alone, now or ever.”

RiverClan • Tier 5 • Deputy • She/Her • 70 | 160 • #669966

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Rowansong

Poppyshine pressed against him, as she had so, so often these recent moons. And as he always had, especially of late, Rowansong accepted the warmth of her weight against him. “It should not,” he protested quietly. There were so many greater things to worry about– Perchstar, grieving, keeping the Clan fed. Further objections lingered behind his teeth, but he only closed an eye and leaned further down when her tongue scraped across his cheek. A soft hum thrummed through his chest the longer she spoke.

He had always had Poppyshine. And while it’d taken him some time to warm up to his former mentor, he’d known for a good while known that Stormdance cared for him. And others, too– his siblings, even if he was not terribly close with most of them… and if most of them were not gone now. Rowansong’s tail whisked with the building agitation of his nerves. Their aunt Perchstar too, though he’d always found it difficult to properly talk to her. He never knew what to say.

With a sniffle, Rowansong ducked awkwardly away, holding himself straight again. It took a moment of blinking to clear the mistiness from his eyes. “Yes, well– of course, I know that. There has always been someone beside me.” What was the point of this game? He was fond of flowery language, yes, but Rowansong knew he was blunt. Why, then, did it feel so impossible to speak on himself with any honesty?

A sigh left him and while he wished to hang his head again, Rowansong determinedly kept his chin up. The pounding in his chest reminded him of the crashing thunder of green-leaf storms. He was sure he looked tired, but he could look fine. And if he could look it, Rowansong could convince himself of such.

Tipping his head down, Rowansong let his attention fall on Poppyshine again. His mouth opened and closed several times without a sound; when he did eventually find his voice, the words left him blinking in shock: “I don’t suppose any of us told you we were together, where the twolegs took us?” For a moment, he stood in stunned silence at the statement. Then, his brow furrowed, and Rowansong’s eyes dropped to his paws. “I suppose that is not important, now.” He shrugged limply. Even just that simple fact, planned or not, made his throat tighten with the unexplainable guilt of sharing. “True, though, for whatever that is worth.”

Poppyshine

Poppyshine looked up at Rowansong, and her own eyes widened with surprise at what Rowansong admitted. Her heart ached and she pressed tighter against him. “I didn’t know that,” she admitted. “I’m glad that you had one another…I was so worried when you were taken, and then them later, that you would all be alone in different places…I’m glad that you weren’t.” She rested against him and watched him with her clear eyes. “And I’m glad you got more time with them.”

She would give anything to have even one more afternoon with them. To tell them that she loved them one more time, even if she had said it daily since they’d returned. She wished that the rest of her children could have one more day with them also…and so knowing that Rowansong, at the very least, got another month or two, was comforting.

“Darling. There’s something on your mind,” Poppyshine meowed softly. It was not a query. She knew her son, and she knew that there was something stirring inside of him that he couldn’t voice. “I’m here. You can tell me, whatever it is.”

RiverClan • Tier 5 • Deputy • She/Her • 70 | 160 • #669966

Credits: code inspiration - 1 2 |  image 1 | image 2 | image 3