can't let this moment end (c)

Despite the rainfall, Perchstar was out on the territory yet again. They were RiverClan cats; they were no stranger to being water-soaked. The rain wasn't much of a deterrent to their usual activities. It made the surface of the water slightly more obscured with ripples, made the ground slightly more slippery than normal, and eliminated the need to jump in the river to get wet, but aside from that, it didn't make any hunting or patrolling much more difficult. The leader had been on several patrols already today--one with her apprentices, and one with Poppyshine. But as there were very few warriors in the Clan and more hungry kits and apprentices than ever, the fresh-kill pile needed to be replenished yet again. So it was that Perchstar was heading out through the rain and wind once more with her daughter, Willowpaw.

Willowpaw... the oldest of her kits, and the one who most resembled her. She'd been entrusted as an apprentice to Stormdance, and since her duties began, Perchstar had seen far less of her. Of course, that was the way of things. Apprenticeship was a busy time. Elders needed to have their bedding changed, prey needed to be caught, training needed to be completed. It hadn't affected the leader much, since she herself always had more than enough duties to keep her paws full. However, she found herself wondering if that made her a neglectful mother. Mother.... Referring to herself with the word would always feel unfamiliar and unpleasant, no matter how many times she thought it. It was easier to hear her kits call her that than believe it of herself. She was not worthy of the title. It was not one she had ever desired for herself. But she refused to request that her kits call her anything else; that would be unkind, to deny them the role that she was supposed to fulfill. And she did... she did love them. She did. It was a fierce and burning warmth that was quietly suffused through her so evenly that she hardly noticed its presence. As odd as the word was, it was true. Finchstream had given her that much. She loved her kits. But she always worried that she would not be as capable in this role as she ought to be.

So she was glad when Poppyshine had given her the time to patrol with Willowpaw. It was hard to find any leisure time, especially now, so combining one duty with another would make things far easier. Of course, seeing this time as a duty did not mean she saw it as unpleasant. She did wish to speak to her daughter and see how things were going. Peering through the rain, Perchstar could make out the slim silver tabby form of the apprentice striding next to her. "You said you wished to show me how your training was progressing?" the leader prompted. Her voice was as steady and neutral as always; she had not yet learned how to use the warm and inviting tone that others did with their families and kits. However, her interest was indicated by both ears being turned towards Willowpaw, awaiting her answer. Hopefully she would be adequate enough in this regard.

The member 'xaandiir' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 6, 2

Perchstar nodded at Willowpaw. The resemblance between the way she spoke and the way that the leader had been as an apprentice was almost painfully similar, but Perchstar blinked the thoughts away. She was not Sparrowclaw, and Stormdance certainly was not, either. They would both hear Willowpaw out and give her all the proper training and support that an apprentice deserved from a mentor. So it was that the taller she-cat followed closely behind her daughter, positioned herself firmly downstream, and watched with full attention and interest as Willowpaw began to show off her hunting skills.

Her technique was already impressive. Stormdance had taught her well. Willowpaw was still as a rock, waiting patiently until a fish came into sight. And then, not one fish, but two, came flopping up onto the sandy riverbank beside them. Though the first swipe was a little bit clumsy, it was still impressive. Her daughter was a natural. No amount of loner's blood could keep the pure RiverClan strength from flowing in their veins. Perchstar felt a warm swell of pride blossoming in her chest, and turned to offer praise to her daughter--but immediately felt it grow cold as she noticed Willowpaw striking the joy from her own expression in an attempt to be similar to her mother's mask. Had her lack of ability to express emotion properly stunted her kits' growth? Wrenpaw had always been a ball of energy and light, but what about Mistpaw, Willowpaw? Even Tinypaw? Had her actions caused them to feel ashamed of their emotions, as she did? Was she failing in her role to make their lives better than hers had been?

Perchstar shoved the uncertainty away, realizing her own hypocrisy even as she did so. In the same breath she cursed herself for hiding her emotions, she hid yet another. But it would not be beneficial to allow Willowpaw to believe that any negative emotion her mother felt was her fault. Instead, the leader focused once more on the pride she had felt earlier, letting it suffuse her form. The fear made it impossible for her to force a smile. However, there was a glow in her eyes and a satisfactory wave of her tail as she looked at her daughter's progress. "A wonderful display of skill," she commended approvingly. "You have been learning quickly."

Perchstar was glad to see that the brightness in Willowpaw's expression did not fade this time. Though it did not quite soothe the fear that was now churning in the pit of her stomach, she no longer felt quite so awful. The young tabby hadn't noticed her mother's momentary horror--the pros and cons of her mask came in tandem. Her voice moved matter-of-factly onto speaking about her mentor. Perchstar waved her tail quietly behind her as she listened. She had been right to trust Stormdance... she had heard nothing but praise about him from both Willowpaw and Tinypaw. If he had truly said that Willowpaw was nearing warriorhood, perhaps she ought to speak with him about it.

Perhaps she ought to have left the conversation there and done some fishing of her own. However, the incident reminding Perchstar of her own apprenticeship made her think of another question that she wanted to ask. Her voice remained as warm as it could when she spoke again. "Are you getting along well with the other apprentices?" she inquired. "I know that you have your siblings, of course. But it may be nice for you to have friends your age." She had been as alone in the apprentice den as she was in the warrior's den. But she knew that some other cats, like her own apprentices Rookpaw and Owlpaw, were far more similar to how she had been than the ones she had grown up alongside. She hoped for nothing more than for Willowpaw, Wrenpaw, Mistpaw and Tinypaw to be nothing but welcomed and supported by all of RiverClan at every stage of their lives.

Perchstar allowed herself a slow blink of satisfaction when Willowpaw replied that she had made friends. Of course, her kits would always have each other, but she was glad that they were getting along with others--and especially Willowpaw, who seemed an exact distillation of her even in the way that she attempted to hide her emotions. Perhaps, once Perchstar found the words, she would need to speak with her about that. But right now, she did not want to worry about such things. She did not want to halt the nice conversation with her own likely-unfounded fears and projecting herself onto her daughter. So for now, she instead nodded in acquiescence.

Most of the names were familiar. Rookpaw she knew--her own apprentice, in fact. She was glad that the two got along, given that they seemed to communicate similarly. Oaksoul she was also familiar with, given that the bulky, silent tom had recently become a warrior. His advancement had been rather quick, but he had been ready for it. The one name that she was not as familiar with was Sunpaw. Perchstar flicked an ear thoughtfully. That was Brookstone's apprentice, the cream tabby, the nursery-mate of Rookpaw and Larkpaw. Had she ever spoken much with him? She didn't believe she had. She ought to remedy that, if Willowpaw considered him a friend. Not to monitor her daughter's friendships, she told herself. Just purely out of her own peace of mind. And besides, as leader of the Clan, she should be aware of the progress of every apprentice, not just her own.

"Not to worry, Mother."

Perchstar was gradually getting more used to hearing the term used as an address toward her. It wasn't easy. She might never be used to it completely. But hearing it come from her daughter... it was all right. Anything in her daughter's voice was all right. "I'm glad to hear that," she responded simply. "You are a very capable cat, and I know that you can handle yourself. But... please remember that I am here for you. Not only as a leader, but as a--as your mother." She stumbled briefly on using the word for herself; it nearly left her tongue-tied. But it came out emphatically, only slightly more enunciated than the other words in the sentence. She shook off the fumble and continued sincerely. "Let me know if there is anything that you require help with. Or even if you'd just like to talk. All right?"

Perchstar remained where she sat, glancing intermittently at the willowy form of her daughter and at her own rippling reflection in the river. There had been times that her glances in the water had been accompanied only by a lonely sense of misunderstanding, of loss, of disillusionment towards her lack of self-worth. That had been changing so gradually that she hadn't even realized it had changed until now. When she looked into the river... she saw herself. The face she put on was no longer a mask hiding what she thought was an empty shell. It was simply her face. Yes, she still tried to keep emotions out of her logical decisions, but feelings were no longer quite the enemy to her that they had once been. They still fought sometimes, of course. She had a long way to go. But she was Perchstar. And that was all right.

She was drawn from her reverie by Willowpaw accepting the invitation to speak. Perchstar tore her gaze from the mirror-self and glanced over at her daughter, not bothering to disguise the interested tilt of her ears. "Yes, anything." The question came with an uncharacteristic hesitation, and a few words dancing around the subject, before it finally dropped into the leader's soul with a weight that momentarily felt like it would make her collapse.

“Who is our father…?"

Well, it had been inevitable. Her kits were too intelligent, too knowing, to let such a lapse in knowledge last indefinitely. She should have told them from the outset... and yet, foolishly, she could not help but hope that the time would never come. She hoped they would accept a life of blissful ignorance where Perchstar was the only figure they ever needed. She had hoped never to have to face the truth again, other than the time she'd spoken to Poppyshine. She had never lied to her kits. She had never attempted to hide the truth from them. But she had just... never told them. Once Mistwalker became a warrior, she'd thought the time might be imminent. And now it certainly was.

Still. Her heart pounded fast enough to seem as if it would break free of her chest. Her limbs managed not to stiffen, but only barely. Confronting the thought of him had not been something she'd wanted to do today. And yet she had no intention of lying to Willowpaw.

She'd never intended to have kits. But how could she say that to a daughter that she loved so dearly, so fiercely, with a meaning of the word she had scarcely comprehended before?

"He still lives, as far as I know," Perchstar said. The words were simple, but each one took great effort to wring from her mouth. Hopefully it would not seem that way to her daughter. "And... he is a loner. The circumstances were--I--well." It was a long story. Was it a story she wished to tell four times? She wanted all of her kits to hear it from her rather than each other. Her tail lashed once behind her in an expression of confused agitation, then she stilled it. "I never meant to hide this from you, Willowpaw. I...I am sorry. But would you be content to wait just a little bit longer? The tale is a complicated one, and it is one I would wish to share with all four of you. You have a right to know... and you have a right to have whatever opinion of me you like when you have heard it. But I promise that I will tell you. Is that... all right?" She hated herself again. All thoughts of recovering from her self-loathing were long forgotten as she looked back down at the river for a moment, seeing in herself the very core of her being attempting to crumble in the face of the crime she had committed. She had not wanted to confront the fact that her kits might hate her. But she would not run in fear. Ice-blue eyes returned to meet Willowpaw's gaze, and she remained strong in her posture... but her gaze lacked any certainty. This was a difficult thing to ask.