a simple life; they live in peace (c)

Perchstar allowed herself the briefest of moments to close her eyes, attempting to still her swimming head. Darkness briefly enveloped her. Then her eyes flew open again when she felt a physical touch. She did not flinch or react other than to open her eyes and glance down--and it was a good thing, because as the scent belatedly hit her nose, she realized that Cinderpaw was resting her head against her white chest fur. Something twisted in the leader's stomach. Guilt? Nostalgia? Something akin to a mix of both, as well as the fierce protective urge that had always lain dormant in her. The love of a mother that she'd never fully realized until she'd had kits of her own. Cinderpaw was not her daughter... but seeing the vulnerable way that the she-cat's ears pinned back made her want to wrap her tail around the apprentice in an embrace. She did not, if only because her head still throbbed too much for her to know if the impulse was a good idea. Still, Perchstar couldn't help the moment of deja vu. Fighting a goose alongside an apprentice on their first day out, and the apprentice initiating physical contact with the emotionally-closed-off leader. Except Poppyshine had been looking to comfort her. Cinderpaw was probably looking for comfort. It made Perchstar ache that she had so little to give.

Cinderpaw's quiet voice was half-muffled by Perchstar's thick ruff of fur. Then she pulled her head back and looked up. The leader gazed down at her, trying to keep any hint of her frustration with StarClan or the pangs of failure on her own behalf out of her ice-blue eyes. "It's nothing I can't handle," she said simply. "You'd be surprised at the number of geese I've had to fight. Besides... I can take far more hits than you. So if one of us has to, then it will be me." There was that word again. Deserve. "No one deserves to be left behind." A flash of golden eyes and soft voice intruded upon her thoughts for a moment before she blinked it away. She had, if nothing else, improved past her former self in that one way. She no longer deluded herself into believing that she deserved whatever punishment the stars chose to inflict. Unfortunately, it left her with a different problem... with an abundance of subdued, frustrated anger taking the place of former pathetic, depressed acceptance. "Whether one deserves it has little to do with whether it happens," she murmured. Those words were likely unhelpful. But perhaps it was a lesson better learned now than later. "I'm all right. I can continue my duties as a mentor, but..." Perchstar trailed off, noticing the way that Cinderpaw was shaking. Though the concern was for her, it was her job to be the bigger cat and do what would be best for both of them. And right now, Cinderpaw was likely in no state to learn. "But, perhaps you're right. We'll continue this lesson another day. Would you help me carry this goose?"