A speck of Dust >closed<

Gender: Female
Rank: T2 Warrior

Nectarflower was curled up at the far edge of the camp, sheltering under tall fronds of grass. Stray rays of sunlight filtered through the golden grass, casting dappled lines of light on the young warrior's coat. She sighed deeply and hid her nose under her paws, unable to bring herself to get up and move somewhere else.

Weaselfoot was gone. She wasn't sure why it had happened, but he was gone forever. The moment she found out was gone replayed in her mind on a loop, tormenting her with the gruesomeness of it all. A patrol had come back, somber and smelling of death with him stretched out across their backs, his body cold and his pelt reeking of blood.

They said it was probably a dog of some kind, which would explain his torn pelt and the fur caught beneath his claws. She had fussed with his pelt throughout the entire vigil, trying to hide the evidence of what had killed him, but it was fruitless and by the time he had been buried in the morning, he only looked marginally better.

Nectarflower had moved only after one of her clanmates hauled her, listless, up and over to her nest. The only reason she got up after that was to collect the bits of foliage and feathers woven into Weaselfoot's nest before some foolish apprentice took it out and dumped it somewhere. Now, the only piece of his nest that she had left was some soft heather that still smelled faintly like Weaselfoot. However, after the past few days, even that had begun to fade.

It had been a few days - how many Nectarflower wasn't sure - since Weaselfoot's death, and she had hardly moved from her spot at the edge of the camp. How could she when he had been so cruelly torn away from her?

Just when her life was starting to feel so right, so...perfect. Nectarflower gasped at the strength of the pain that tore through her and buried her face further under her paws, unable to escape the sharp claws of grief that closed around her heart.

Gender: Female
Rank: T2 Warrior

Lost in thought, Nectarflower didn't even notice Dustkit's approach. Her breathing came slowly, almost as if she wasn't breathing at all - she might as well not be. However, the gentle rasp of his tongue on her fur drew the young warrior from her stupor. She slowly turned her head to see who it was, surprised to the tiny form of one of Sootstorm's young kits. Which one was this?

Nectarflower was ashamed to admit that she hadn't been present for any of Windclan's recent happenings. Sootstorm's and Ferntwist's kits had been born, there was the whole mess with the last gathering, and Starclan knows what those meetings the other day had been about. She stared uncomprehendingly at the young kit for several moments before dropping her head again.

What did this kit know anyway? He couldn't know anything about death or loss or grief - nor did she want him to - so his words seemed hollow to her. Regardless, the sentiment was there and she appreciated him for trying. He must take after his mother; Ferntwist had always been a sweet, thoughtful cat.

The heaviness in Nectarflower's chest seemed to lift - if only for a moment - and she nuzzled the kit before curling around him, grateful for the company. Most cats had stopped trying. They were right to. Their efforts had been in vain thus far and she had brushed them off without so much as a glance most times.

Words weren't enough to express what she was feeling and they probably never would be. Nectarflower was certain that anything that came out of her mouth would just shatter this temporary moment of calmness. It was just easier to stay like this and try to piece herself back together in relative silence.

Gender: Female
Rank: T2 Warrior

Nectarflower slowly opened her eyes as the young kit spoke, her gaze dull. Dustkit? That was a nice name. She smiled weakly for a moment, amused by Dustkit's words. He was a spirited kit, that was for sure. Ferntwist was a lot like that...it was nice to see one of her kits taking after her.

The dark shroud of sadness seemed to lift for a short while and the young warrior licked the top of Dustkit's head. It wasn't fair that a young kit like him had to reassure and comfort a grown warrior - it was almost pathetic that it'd come to this. "It's-" Nectarflower coughed, her voice scratchy and rough from days of misuse. "It's nice to meet you, Dustkit. My name is Nectarflower."

She paused for a moment, wondering how to answer his question. She did know his parents - they were all she had left now. Finally, she laid her head back down, looking at the kit from tired eyes. "I'm your mama's best friend and your papa was my mentor. He taught me everything I know."

Those were better days. Back when her biggest worry was performing a battle move correctly or running fast enough to catch a rabbit. Back when she and Ferntwist would make frequent trips to the flower fields and collect flowers of all kinds...she missed it. She missed her friends and, most of all, she missed Weaselfoot.

With a flick of her tail, Nectarflower shook her head. Dustkit seemed like he would make a strong warrior, but not everything needed to be solved by fighting. "You're very brave." She paused, her expression darkening. "But there is a time and place for fighting. Sometimes, using your words is even more effective."

Gender: Female
Rank: T2 Warrior

Nectarflower's tensed shoulders relaxed some as she settled into a more comfortable position. She'd hadn't expected it but talking to Dustkit really helped. It didn't take the pain away, but at least she could focus on something other than it. "I'm sure you'll have a name that'll reflect you very well." At least, that's how Nectarflower assumed warrior names came from. Surely, she was given the name -flower because of her loves for flowers. That or her admittedly gentle nature.

Dustkit seemed like a very energetic, somewhat aggressive kit - he would probably be great in battle given that's what his interest currently aligned with. Maybe he would be named after his father and be called Duststorm? Before she could conjure up more imaginary names, Dustkit began speaking again.

She hummed, not sure if she agreed with his assessment that she was strong. She didn't feel strong - not right now - but didn't want to disagree with the young kit and so she stayed quiet. This didn't last long, however, as Dustkit quickly became confused at the thought of words being more effective than claws.

"Well..." She began, "Sometimes, when cats don't agree on something, they can come to a peaceful solution by talking things out. Fighting can lead to injuries...you might even lose someone you really care about." Nectarflower tapped her nose to Dustkit's head. "Claws and teeth should be a last resort and only used for defense." He would understand someday...hopefully.

Gender: Female
Rank: T2 Warrior

Nectarflower's gaze softened slightly. She hadn't meant to confuse the young tom, but it was important for him to know when to and when not to resort to fighting. It may not seem like it now, but even running away was better than getting yourself killed in battle. Briefly, Nectarflower wondered if Weaselfoot had tried to run when that dog found him, but she dismissed the thought.

Blinking to force back the tears in her eyes, the young warrior scooped Dustkit to her side and started picking out the bits of dirt from his pelt. "It depends on the situation." This wasn't an easy topic to explain to a battle-hungry kit like him, but she would try to help him understand.

"If it's a predator, like a dog or badger, run away if you can. If you can't, you'll need to rely on your claws to protect you. However-" She plucked out a stray blade of grass from the kit's pelt, pausing to think, then continued. "It's more complicated when it comes to other cats. They may be afraid of you or angry at something you did. In that case, using your words to explain yourself can prevent an unnecessary fight."

With a sigh, the tortoiseshell she-cat's expression turned serious, and she looked into Dustkit's eyes, trying to emphasize how important this next part was. "But...your safety comes first, if someone or something attacks you, it's okay to use everything at your disposal to defend yourself."

Gender: Female
Rank: T2 Warrior

Nectarflower smiled, feeling both relieved and pleased that Dustkit understood the intricacies of life a little bit better now. A little voice in the back of her head nagged at her that it wasn't her place to parent Ferntwist and Sootstorm's children, but she silenced it. What harm could come of it? She was just trying to make sure Dustkit didn't do anything foolish when he was older.

Talking to the young tom had brought back a little bit of Nectarflower's spirit and, only now did she realize just how hungry she was. It had been days since she'd bothered to eat, move, or do much of anything really. With a sigh, Nectarflower heaved herself to her paws, swaying slightly before regaining her balance.

"I'm glad we got to talk." Her gaze lifted and strayed toward the moor - somewhere she'd been avoiding since Weaselfoot was killed. "But I have to go now. We'll hang out again soon, I promise." Flicking her tail, Nectarflower leaned down to nuzzle Dustkit affectionately. "See you around."

It was time to get back to her paws and try to move on. Weaselfoot would always have a special place in her heart, but he wouldn't want to see her like this. The pain wouldn't go away for a while, if ever, but she had to try. So, the young warrior gathered her courage and padded out of the camp.