just static on the line [c]

Pineblossom

Pineblossom had a lot of time to spend at camp after her stint hunting a fox alone. She did not much care that it did not count for her rite; she did not care much about rites. She was glad that predator was dead, and she did not mind being stuck in camp while she healed up. It frustrated her, but she understood that her actions required punishment. It left her with more time than she wanted to mull over all of her thoughts, though, and it was difficult to think through it all. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more her mind turned less from Honeylight and more to Silverpaw. He had been bouncing between different warriors until he could be reassigned a proper mentor. She had yet to talk to him fully about what had happened. She knew that he would be suffering; how could he not? She did not want her youngest to suffer alone. He was her final child, and she refused to let him suffer in the way she had at his age.

She approached him in camp. “Silverpaw. Will you come lie with me for a while?” She waited for him to finish what he was doing and then led him to a quiet area in the camp. It was just outside the nursery, tucked into a darker corner. She had first met Webshadow here, and had always kept it in mind as a quiet place in the camp, out of sight, in case she ever needed the quiet time.

Pineblossom laid down and invited Silverpaw to curl up with her. She started to groom his fur idly. Her maternal instincts had slowly grown since she had adopted Silverpaw and Honeylight. Even just half a year ago, she could not have imagined herself grooming a young cat of her own in such a way; yet it felt as natural as if Silverpaw was her own flesh and blood.

She let them sit in silence for a while until she slowly stopped grooming. She rested her chin on top of his head and curled in closer around him. She murmured, “Silverpaw…what happened with Honeylight—it was not your fault. You know that, yes? You have not been blaming yourself, right?”

Even now, with so many moons of space between it, she could still sometimes feel the weight of guilt for Ratrunner’s death. She knew with certainty in her heart that Silverpaw would feel the same way with Honeylight; perhaps worse, given what happened. It had taken her moons upon moons to feel okay again, and to stop listening to the voice in her head that spoke of her worthlessness due to her mistake. Pineblossom did not want that for Silverpaw. It was so unfair for a cat so long to bear such a weight upon his shoulders.

ShadowClan • Tier 5 • She/Her • 70 | 160 • #6699ff

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

Silverpaw

Silverpaw tried to keep his paws busy as often as he could. When he was still for too long, he got lost in thought brooding over everything ShadowClan had suffered. No— not everything. Tigershriek’s death disturbed him; Batswarm and Moondancer’s deaths disturbed and upset him, but only because of the effect it left on Pineblossom and Harriertalon. He hadn’t liked either of them. Especially not Moondancer. He was far from happy they were gone, but… it didn’t strike him deeply the way it had his Clanmates. That alone was a worrying thought.

It was Honeylight’s death and his alone that consumed his thoughts in moments of quiet. How sudden everything had been; perfect one second, broken the next. The way Honeylight convulsed while his body fought for life. The air thick with fox-stench and blood. The crushing exhaustion when he returned to camp, haloed by red-stained dawn. Pineblossom. Forestbreeze. Leopardsun. Himself. The fox Pineblossom brought back to camp. It was impossible to linger on one thing too long; everything tangled together, one thought quickly pulling the chord of another to the surface. It was inescapable, and it was maddening.

He had at least gotten better at hiding it than he’d been in the immediate wake of Honeylight’s burial. He had… returned to normalcy, or an echo of it. He still bristled when most of his Clanmates spoke to him, and his temper was shot, but he’d grown familiar with the feeling of his own canines digging into his tongue.

Pineblossom’s voice made his ears flatten. Silverpaw thought it’d been his head until he turned away from the distant point he’d been staring at you. He blinked slowly, weighing the rising gnaw of shame that tempted him to deny the request, but he quietly agreed and followed where she led. His stomach turned when he laid down beside her and she set to cleaning his fur. He could not understand how she still managed to care for him when he had taken her first son away. Silverpaw squeezed his eyes shut tight and let his chin rest on his paws.

He remained still when she finished, breathing slow and deep until Pineblossom spoke. His lungs caught in the midst of breathing in, constricting painfully in his chest. His stomach rolled again. He almost scoffed in response, but instead he pushed the rest of the air in his lungs out through his nose in a deep sigh. “Yeah.” Silverpaw said dryly, eyes fluttering open to stare across camp. It felt deeply wrong to lie to Pineblossom… but if she still believed that now, he did not imagine he could convince her otherwise, and he did not want to argue with her to push his point. But if he hadn’t let Honeylight move first, if he hadn’t been stupid enough to be afraid, if he’d been faster or braver or stronger or just better— if he hadn’t been around at all, then Honeylight still would be. “It isn’t my fault. I know.”

Pineblossom

Pineblossom listened to Silverpaw’s response with as much focus and concern as she did with most cats, if not even more. She knew how he was feeling, and had a guess as to what sort of response he was going to have. Sure enough, he provided soft reassurances and his gaze stayed stubbornly set across camp and not looking back at her. Pineblossom saw so much of herself in Silverpaw. It worried her. Pineblossom thought she was a fine enough cat now, but she certainly was not in her youth. She had nearly destroyed herself with her own problems. She did not want that for her son; she refused to let it be.

She placed a leg across his back, snuggling him close, and used her other paw to lift his chin to look at her instead of across camp. Pineblossom meowed, “It truly isn’t. But it is okay if you think it is, anyway. I would rather you tell me how you feel, than tell me what I want to hear.”

Her heart ached terribly. She pet his head gently with her paw. “When I was your age, I lost a dear friend in a similar manner. I blamed myself for moons. Some days, I find myself still putting blame on my own shoulders. I know now that of course it was not my fault, and there was nothing that I could have done that would have changed what happened…but the pain still remained. It’s a heavy pain that feels impossible to unburden from yourself. I don’t think anyone can take that feeling away…But while it did not fix anything, I did start to feel a little better when I finally spoke about it with someone.”

Pineblossom lowered her chin and rested it on the ground so she was more eye-level with her son. She held him close. “Nothing is ever going to make me stop loving you, Silverpaw. I am not angry, nor do I blame you for what happened. What I care about is how you are doing. I cannot help if I don’t know what is going through your head…Please. Please tell me what is on your mind, my son.”

ShadowClan • Tier 5 • She/Her • 70 | 160 • #6699ff

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

Silverpaw

Silverpaw blinked in surprise when Pineblossom guided his attention toward her. He wanted to look away, find some distant point to strain his periphery against, but he couldn’t bring himself to. His gaze leveled on hers, eyes widening at her words. The points of his teeth pressed into his tongue to steady himself. Not only the insistence that this wasn’t his fault (but he knew it was, he knew it), but the reassurance it was okay that he thought so. Silverpaw blinked again, a baffled look taking over his dour expression.

He hadn’t considered if it was okay before; only accepted that it was. On some level, he’d decided he deserved to feel so tormented over it. It was like penance, for the damage he’d wrought twice now, merely by existence. He looked down when she pat his head, staring dumbly at his own tangled paws. He was not sure if it felt better or worse to know she had endured the same grief and survived. He did not want to think of anyone he cared for suffering this, but it was some comfort to know the storm was not endless.

Silverpaw felt Pineblossom shift against him, lowering her head, though he didn’t look at her yet. He was still... processing. When she drew him a little closer, he released most of the tension in her muscles and went limp against her embrace. If he were in her place, he’d curse himself for what he’d done. But Pineblossom loved him, anyway; he was her son, anyway. His heart ached terribly. Why couldn’t she see how he’d been at fault? Why the determination to deny that? And why was he childish enough to want to believe her?

Silence stretched while he thought. Eventually, quiet and bitter, he muttered, “Of course it’s my fault.” He was tempted to bury his face in the thick fur of Pineblossom’s ruff and hide there as long as she allowed it, but the thought aroused a half-buried sense of shame that raged against this selfish comfort. He shouldn’t need to be held. He never had as a kit, so he certainly shouldn’t now. The comforting weight of her embrace felt suddenly crushing. Silverpaw squirmed, wriggling out of the hold to push himself upright, though he stayed right against her side.

“I’m supposed to be a great warrior someday, but I can’t even protect my brother from a fox.” He scoffed at himself and the bridge of his muzzle wrinkled with distaste. “You don’t understand, Pineblossom, I didn’t even-- I didn’t even do anything.” Silverpaw’s tail lashed once, thumping against the soft ground. “I just watched. I stood there and I let the fox kill him. If I just-- if I’d been paying more attention, or I’d just moved-- I had no reason to freeze! I’ve already fought a fox, and I wasn’t scared then!” His breath was starting to hitch between words, and he found now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop talking. “If I’d actually done anything right, this wouldn’t have happened. If I hadn’t been there at all, this wouldn’t have happened!”

Silverpaw’s tail beat the ground again, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight for a minute. He breathed in slow through his nose to steady himself. His voice had risen as he spoke, but it softened to a whisper when he looked down at Pineblossom again. “I can’t get it out of my head. It’s like it’s constantly playing on loop. I know it’s my fault, somehow. I bet everyone else thinks it is, too. All I can think about is what I could’ve done differently.” Silverpaw shook his head and looked away again, staring at the shadows of camp flickering in the moonlight. His last admission comes out unbidden, and he winces halfway through voicing the thought as he speaks, “I keep wondering why it was him; why it wasn’t me.”

Pineblossom

Pineblossom did not hold Silverpaw down when he started to squirm, although she wished that he would accept the hold anyway. He at least did not move away, and so she accepted his need to simply be at her side. She rested against him, allowing her weight to be of some comfort anyway. She let him list out his grievances, explain every reason why this terrible tragedy must be his fault, and his fault alone.

“When my dear friend died, I also didn’t move,” she said softly. “I was your age; just an apprentice, and ready to take on any danger and defend my clan. I had battled predators at that time. A dog, in fact. But when my friend was attacked and killed by another cat, I could not move an inch. I did not try to retaliate. I simply…ran away. Because I was so frightened.” She looked at Silverpaw again. “One cannot know how they will react to something terrifying, especially when they are young and still learning. Honeylight had been a warrior for thrice the time you had even been alive. Of course he would be ready to react. And, he was your mentor and your brother. Of course he was going to defend you.”

Pineblossom shifted and moved Silverpaw’s chin with her paw to make him look at her instead of staring off at somewhere else in camp. “Honeylight loved you dearly. He would tell me how excited he was about your progress, and how happy he was that you were his brother, and what a fantastic warrior you were going to be. Honeylight was a bright, loving cat.” Her paw moved down from his cheek to rest on top of his paw. “And his final act was one of love and protection. You did not throw him at that fox, and it was not your inability to move that caused his death. He chose to protect you because he loved you so much. Please do no remember his final act as something of your failing, but instead an act of what a good cat he was.”

She moved forward and rested her forehead against his. “No one thinks that Honeylight’s death was your fault. I wish that I could change how you feel inside, but I know I cannot. However, that does not mean I am going to leave you to these emotions on your own. You can work through it at your own pace. But you are never going to hear me blame you. Nor am I ever going to wish that you had died in Honeylight’s place. You bothare my dearest sons, and I would never trade one of your lives for the other. You are so important to me, Silverpaw. I love you. Every day of my life is better with you in it.”

ShadowClan • Tier 5 • She/Her • 70 | 160 • #6699ff

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

Silverpaw

Silverpaw's ears press forward at Pineblossom's soft voice, pointed up with surprise. His breath catches in the back of his throat, eyes widening at the distant point they've settled on. Relief balloons in his chest, the desperate sort; so shocked that Pineblossom had found herself in a similar position, that she had done the same, that he was not evil for not raising a paw against Honeylight's death because Pineblossom was not evil. But at the same time- the same cursed time-- guilt, still. Well, maybe she'd just had no choice; and running, cowardly as it was (Pineblossom was not a coward) was at least doing something (maybe a distraction if he'd been able to run); and well, of course she would balk when it was another cat striking to kill, cats were above the mindless violence of predators. Silverpaw sniffed softly and shook his head. He did not know what line had been drawn between them, nor when, that absolved her of all sin and left it for him. When he was small, perhaps, first supplied the idea of better (of course she would not do anything, and would flee; but he was above that).

Or perhaps even before that, with his very birth. Maybe it was that he had come into the world a vestige for sin. Maybe the losses, Honeylight's and his mother's and even Pineblossom's kits, had been punishment for his existing; tainted and killed by his presence.

Silverpaw shifted, raising a leg to scratch briefly at his shoulder. He could feel the skin itching under his fur. He could still feel it, even after he'd settled back into sitting properly. Like ants under his pelt. He wanted to gnaw them out, but he beat his tail against the ground and made himself be still.

Pineblossom reached for him again. Silverpaw blinked at the contact and shook his head again, only realizing he had spiraled when she brought his focus back. Though he obediently turned to face her, the bridge of his nose wrinkled and he stubbornly stared through the corners of his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye while speaking of Honeylight's love for him. It seemed worse, that way. Honeylight loved him, and he'd watched him die. He opened his mouth, but his words caught in his throat and left only as a short whimper. He couldn't bring himself to tell her he wished Honeylight did not love him. He would have traded that for his brother to still live.

Sniffing again, Silverpaw leaned forward to meet Pineblossom halfway, pushing into the gentle press of her head. He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt them wet even though none of the threatening tears rose in full. Still, he could feel their sting, worsening the longer Pineblossom spoke. A breath hitched jaggedly and his shoulders shook. He didn't understand what good she saw in him. It had all left with Honeylight's last breath. Who did she presume to love, when he no longer felt the same as the cat she'd adopted? What betterment did he provide-- especially lately, existing only to snap and sulk?

"It's not fair." Silverpaw murmured. His jaw worked tight and loose and tight again, but he couldn't manage to force anything else out. But that wasn't enough-- it's not fair. Of course it wasn't fair. He ought to have more to say about it, and he knew he did. He wanted to scream until he could no longer and he wanted to cry, really cry. He wanted to just fall limp against Pineblossom and cry until his body gave out from it.

He wanted, perhaps more terribly than anything else in that moment, not to fear looking up and seeing her so worried. It swam in her eyes every time she looked to him, the concern and hurting. It stung him. It was part of why he had been stubborn about refusing to look at her, why he held his eyes closed still now. It felt as if he'd drawn wounds on her with his own paws. Another poison of his existence, afflicting those bitter feelings on someone who loved him--

Silverpaw pressed his head more insistently to hers, face scrunching. He could not chase the traitorous thoughts away, but he could not stand to further worry Pineblossom, either. The weight and the scraping pain in his chest made him feel as if he'd eaten stones. Swallowing to soften the discomfort only made his throat feel raw. He had to say something, but what, he did not know. Several times he opened his mouth in an attempt to say he loved her, too, but the words would not come and he eventually gave up. He sat like that for several minutes, breathing quietly, shakily through his nose and leaning into Pineblossom, silent.

Eventually, he gathered a deeper breath and used the strength from exhaling to push himself away from her, wobbling briefly before settling straight. When he opened his eyes again, they were still faintly misty, and deep weariness dulled them. He stared down at his paws for a few beats before dragging his gaze up, looking to Pineblossom through lidded eyes. He watched her for a few moments before sighing and looking away. Quietly, feeling both haze and remarkable clarity, Silverpaw made a decision. Agony continued to gnaw at him, but this sudden resolution brought him something to press his claws into, cling to with desperation amid the seas of anguish.

Hesitantly, he rasped, "Thank you," cleared his throat, "I... appreciate it." He bit his tongue to keep back the continuing I don't believe it, but--, grimacing at his private bluntness. "I'll work through it. I'll be... okay. I promise." Silverpaw leaned forward again to bury his muzzle in Pineblossom's ruff, taking a moment just to relax against her weight and sink into her scent. He hoped it would convey the I love you he could not say, express to her the weight she'd lifted from his heart (however little it felt against the remaining lead, but still, it was felt). When he was ready, he shook himself out with a little huff and made himself sit with proper posture, with head tilted back and shoulders squared, even though it took all his effort to battle the exhaustion. "I'll get better. Even if it's hard. I can't honor him by just wallowing. And I'll be better, too. I'll- I'll take training seriously again, even if I don't have a mentor. It'll keep my mind busy."

There a light entered Silverpaw's eyes for the first time since that bloody dawn: the embers of resolve. "I'll work hard again, and I'll become a warrior Honeylight would be proud of. I'll be a warrior everyone can be proud of. Our training, his own life-- the life he gave me. I won't let any of it go to waste."

Pineblossom

Silverpaw moving in towards her comforting offering made Pineblosom’s heart warm with love. She hated him feeling alone or like he had to deal with this without any help. She understood the temptation to isolate oneself as something of punishment for tragedy that has occurred, but it did nothing but cause pain. It could not solve anything, and there was truly nothing to atone for; it was just prolonging the grief until it became an infected wound in one’s heart. She didn’t want that for Silverpaw. After all the tragedy he has had to endure at such a young age, she wanted him to be okay.

Pineblossom licked Silverpaw’s cheek affectionately as he spoke about working harder and moving past what he has been struggling with. It would not be so easy, but she would be there to help him along the way. Whatever Silverpaw needed, she would be there for him. Things get easier when you’re not alone. Pineblossom learned that when she finally stopped pitying herself and decided to befriend Forestbreeze and Nightstalker again.

“I’m proud of you,” Pineblossom said quietly as she rested with her son. “It takes a lot of strength to work forward. It took me a long time to learn that. But you won’t be moving forward alone. I’m by your side always, Silver.” She groomed the top of his head again, smoothing out some of the messier fur. “For today, though, I’d like to just rest with you. Is that alright?” They would continue their training in full soon, but Silverpaw deserved some time of just rest, and Pineblossom wanted that time with her son too.

ShadowClan • Tier 5 • She/Her • 70 | 160 • #6699ff

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