A Night of Lights [C]

Willowpaw

Willowpaw still did not entirely understand why Sunpaw and Rookpaw were struggling to get along. She had spoken to each of them, and Sunpaw filled things in a lot more for her…but if she was frank, it just sounded like a misunderstanding that neither of them were willing to admit to. She tried to advise Sunpaw on that matter, but he was not very receptive to it either…Well. Willowpaw was not going to let her friends continue to struggle. She knew that they needed one another.

The twolegs often had strange rituals and loved to make a lot of noise. Recently, Willowpaw had started hearing loud pops throughout the forest and saw little glints of light in the sky at night. She’d asked her mother about it, given she was older and had more experience, and learned that this was a ritual that the twolegs did every year and was just visible in the forest, and especially by the Sunningrocks. It was the perfect opportunity.

She started with going to Rookpaw. She knew that they would be the more difficult one to convince to come with her on an outing. They had spoken plenty of times, but they were always rather stilted. She was pretty sure that was just their personality, but it was harder for her to determine if her friendly advances were welcome. Surprisingly, they did not seem put off in the slightest and agreed to come and see the fancy lights at the Sunningrocks that evening.

Sunpaw was even easier to convince. She requested that he meet her at the Sunningrocks to see the twoleg ritual and Sunpaw was curious and excited enough to agree. Willowpaw organized the time for them to meet that night, and then all that was needed was to wait.

Willowpaw went ahead a little early and found her spot at the Sunningrocks. It was growing dark now and she heard a few preemptive pops in the distance. Her tail swished anxiously behind her and she watched the gloom for a sign of Sunpaw or Rookpaw arriving.

RiverClan • Apprentice • She/Her • 20 | 60 • #6abcde

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

Rookpaw

Willowpaw was a fine cat. Rookpaw saw her often, considering she was Perchstar’s daughter. They harbored no real ill-will toward her, though they had started to begrudge her presence of late. She had quickly filled the gap they left in Sunpaw’s circle. It was… irksome was a good word for it. They insisted to themself it was not an intentional replacement from either party, and Willowpaw was friendly enough with them as well. Rookpaw did not intend to be close with her, but they wouldn’t deny her bids for companionship.

That was how they found themself following her invitation to the Sunningrocks. Rookpaw had seen and heard the pops of color the last few nights, and they couldn’t deny their own intrigue. It seemed strange, that she would choose to invite them of all cats– particularly over one of her siblings, or Sunpaw –but they agreed readily.

Squinting slightly against the dusky light, Rookpaw shook themself free from a bank of reeds and padded forward until pool-pocketed grass turned firmer and soon gave way to stone. Even as the sun slipped away, the day’s heat clung to the Rocks. Rookpaw angled their head, intending to follow the swivel of their ears toward a distant bang, but the sight of Willowpaw already waiting made them stall. They stared at her for a moment, neck craned at an odd angle, before righting their posture and moving closer.

“Willowpaw,” they greeted with a simple nod as they approached, settling a few tail-lengths away from her. Their thin tail swished lazily over the rocks and Rookpaw finally looked up, staring into the darkening sky. They were quiet for a spell before saying, “I hope they are nice.”

Sunpaw had been delighted when Willowpaw invited him out. He’d seen the distant pops of color and sound, and while it had been startling at first, he quickly grew curious and fascinated. He was happy that Willowpaw had approached him on just that matter, and asked to watch the colors together. Anytime with Willowpaw was a good time, especially when he knew she wanted his company, because she had been the one to seek it out.

It was strange traversing the territory by himself, without Brookstone or another adult cat with him, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The cool evening was peaceful, and Sunpaw enjoyed the quiet walk and the soft ground underfoot. He listened to the distant sounds of crickets with happy twitches of his ears. Pushing through the reeds, Sunpaw took a moment to enjoy the feeling of night-cooled stone under his pawpads before he continued onward.

“Willowpaw?” He called, swiveling his head around when he entered the clearing. “Willow--” He spotted her quickly, her silver pelt standing out easily in the night sky. That was not a surprise. What was a shock was the shadow sitting next to her. Sunpaw fully stumbled in his shock, righting himself quickly with an embarrassed flick of his ear.

He had not spoken to Rookpaw since their argument. Every day that passed without Rookpaw at his side felt wrong and hollow. Sunpaw had no idea how to fix what went wrong between them. There was a rapidly shrinking part of him that was still angry, but the rest of him was just sad. Rookpaw was easily the most important cat in his life. It hurt to feel this divide between them. It was an ache Sunpaw could set aside as he went about daily life, but every time he saw them, it all came flooding back. Now was no exception, the hurt filling his lungs rapidly.

“R-Rookpaw!” He squeaked out, voice cracking a little. There was a dazed smile on his face that was frozen in place as he approached, feeling stupid and awkward. “Hi… Um. Are you here to see the lights too?” His tail twitched anxiously, and he glanced nervously towards Willowpaw, seeking answers.

Willowpaw

Willowpaw relaxed when Rookpaw appeared from the dusky gloom. That was one cat accounted for, and she was positive that Sunpaw would be here any moment. Rookpaw had more of a reason to suddenly cancel and not show up, so it was good to see that they were present. She nodded in greeting and let them come up beside her, but she did not turn away from watching the treeline.

Then, sure enough, Sunpaw emerged.

His shock was quick and obvious. Willowpaw had anticipated that. She hoped that they would not immediately abandon the Sunningrocks because of her minor deception. Willowpaw replied easily, “I invited you both. Sunpaw, come sit over here.”

The first step was to get them in the same place. Then, the harder part, to get them to walk. Willowpaw knew they likely would not of their own accord. She would have to push them to. She shifted over and put Sunpaw to sit between her and Rookpaw, so there was less distance between them.

She looked forward as though focusing on the show that would begin soon. She hoped there would be enough time before the lights appeared in the sky for her to get them talking. There would be no easy way to bring it up either. Willow would just have to say it.

She turned to look at both Rookpaw and Sunpaw. Before the awkwardness could grow too great, she said, “I know you two have been having trouble. You cannot ignore one another and expect anything to be fixed. You both were hurt by what happened, so talk about it.” Willowpaw lifted her chin. “I won’t let you say no. I know you both are capable of talking to one another.”

RiverClan • Apprentice • She/Her • 20 | 60 • #6abcde

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

Rookpaw

Willowpaw did not return their greeting or the supplied nicety, but that was just as well to Rookpaw. They did not take much offense to silence, not as many other cats seemed to. They were content to stare up at the sky until a voice, achingly familiar, called out from the gloom behind them. Rookpaw turned instantly, ears flattening and shoulder fur starting to bristle.

It was rare that they would emote beyond the flick of ear, tail, or whisker, but Rookpaw’s eyes were wide and the bridge of their muzzle was starting to crease when they looked toward Sunpaw. Guilt and cindering anger and a strange feeling of want surfaced in unison. A little sputtering noise hitched in their throat, and Rookpaw continued to stare as if StarClan had descended before them. It was Willowpaw’s voice that made the end of their tail twitch once; shortly after that and a measured breath, they forced their fur flat and their expression back to neutrality.

Rookpaw leveled a cool gaze on Sunpaw, relaxed posture turning rigid when Willowpaw herded him over to sit at their side. They had no desire to speak to him. They wanted nothing more than to speak to him. Puffing a breath through their nose, Rookpaw turned on Willowpaw, pale eyes narrowing. “You lied. By omission.” They said it as simply as anything, but their lowered ears gave away their annoyance and upset. It made sense now, why she had invited them out to begin with. Rookpaw’s ears lowered further, and they cast a rueful look over their shoulder, staring back in the direction of camp.

“I am well capable of talking.” There was an undercurrent of petulance to their otherwise dry mew. The surprise of the situation and the way their chest squeezed just with Sunpaw’s presence had quickly soured their mood. Rookpaw kept their eyes on the gloom now, instead of searching the sky for the distant bangs or facing either of the cats beside them. “Historically, though, I am ill-suited for emotionally driven conversation. I am not good at friendship.” Rookpaw hunched in on themself a little, the lines of their frown tightening. They tried to be good at friendship, but they had failed with the only friend they’d found. They did not want to attempt talking again and make things worse than they already had.

Sunpaw felt downright dizzy. Willowpaw moved to put him in between her and Rookpaw, and Sunpaw just dazedly settled into place, because he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t actually want to leave, because he wanted so badly to talk to Rookpaw, but he didn’t know what to do with being here, either. He hated how expressive Rookpaw had looked when they saw Sunpaw. Why is it that Sunpaw draws out the emotional sides of Rookpaw, but in all the worst ways?

Sunpaw’s ears lowered flat on his head as Willowpaw talked. He looked at her, frustrated for a moment that she had pushed them into this situation, even though he knew she was only trying to help. It wasn’t just as simple as talking though. Sunpaw had to be better for Rookpaw, and he wasn’t.

“I wasn’t ignoring anyone,” He grumbled under his breath, looking down at his paws with a sullen expression. He wasn’t trying to ignore Rookpaw! He just didn’t want to upset them again! Or get upset at them! Before Sunpaw could continue down that train of thought, he turned his head to look at Rookpaw at their words.

“You are too good at friendship!” Sunpaw thumped his tail on the ground, frowning deeply. This time not with anger, but concern and indignance on his best friend’s behalf. That was his best friend, and no one should talk poorly of them, not even them. “Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean that you’re bad at friendship. You’re still my best friend. We’re-- we’re still best friends. Right?” Sunpaw faltered then, heart skipping a beat at the idea that maybe he was wrong all this time, and not talking to someone for weeks at a time meant that you couldn’t be friends anymore.

He hesitated, and then said, “Besides, if you’re bad at friendship, so am I.”

Rookpaw

The sudden protest made Rookpaw sit up straight again, twisting back around, eyes widening slightly when they found Sunpaw already staring at them. They blinked slowly at him, ear flicking once. Were you meant to be friends after a fight? They had not considered their friendship over, only... strained, though it did not make sense why either of them would return to the other, however much they wanted to. A fight felt rather final. Their brow furrowed, but the crease quickly smoothed as Sunpaw hurried through his words. Rookpaw blinked again, dim eyes owlishly wide, and their tail curled tight around their forelegs.

Their maw worked open and closed, open and closed. For once, Rookpaw nearly spoke without thinking, but no words would come out. Eventually they gave up, teeth clicking with the decisive snap shut of their open mouth. The tip of their tail flickered back and forth against their leg and the pensive scowl returned. Surely Sunpaw did not mean that... but he was earnest, perhaps to a fault. Their chest panged again.

“You are the only best friend I have ever had. I would like to say you still are. But...” they faltered again and shook their head hard enough to make their ears thwip, scattering the cloud of emotion. They stared at Sunpaw when their vision settled, searching for something even they weren’t sure of, before sighing softly. “But I did everything right.” Rookpaw said, ears turning backwards. “I thought I had. Yet I still misstepped.” A frown tugged down the lines of their maw. They got along decently with most cats, by way of quiet and agreeable unless bothered, but Rookpaw found it difficult to truly connect, some divide between them and many of their Clanmates. There were few notable exceptions: Larkpaw, of course, who knew them better than they knew themself; Perchstar, who Rookpaw saw much of themself in...

And Sunpaw. Wholly different from them, and yet he understood as they did him. A balance they could not do without. Rookpaw tipped their head down, staring at their paws. They had shaken that fine balance for the first time with him, and it frightened them. Yet here he was proclaiming-- and questioning, but more importantly proclaiming --they were still best friends.

He was so odd. Rookpaw was odd, too.

Whatever revelation they underwent, hurt and mild frustration still ate at them. Rookpaw closed their eyes for a few moments, focusing on the night-scented air that filled their lungs with every breath before they looked at Sunpaw again. “Do you mean that?” They asked quietly. Their attention slid briefly to Willowpaw, glowering at having to claw through their feelings with an audience, then refocused. “You doubted me. ‘Do you really want to be friends, Rook, or is it just what you think you’re supposed to do?’ Is that what you assume of me?” The hurt reached their eyes and Rookpaw ducked their head again. “I promise I have been genuine in being your friend. I was genuine in expressing concern. I do not know at what point I upset you.”

There was barely a breath between sentences before another question followed, a whisper so soft it was almost lost to the river’s ambient babble. “Do you resent me for having a brother?” Rookpaw’s eyes squeezed shut again, and they nearly ducked into their shoulders, but they forced themself to sit tall and look at Sunpaw. “Do you resent him? Is my presence in your life less important because I am only a friend?”

“You are the only best friend I have ever had. I would like to say you still are. But...”

Sunpaw’s chest tightened painfully at that final word. Rookpaw paused after saying it, and Sunpaw wasn’t even aware of anything but Rookpaw after that. Not of the flashes of color beginning to light up the sky, or even of Willowpaw, who was watching this all play out. All Sunpaw could focus on was the future that hung on the single word. There was a world where Rookpaw and Sunpaw remained best friends… and one where they had ruined things beyond repair (where Sunpaw had ruined things beyond repair), and he would thus have to learn to permanently live in a world without Rookpaw at his side. It was an unbearable thought.

Sunpaw was able to breathe again when Rookpaw continued, their words not a complete finality, even if they still made Sunpaw’s lungs ache painfully with each inhale. The world came into focus again, and Sunpaw watched Rookpaw intensely, forgetting to look away. His mother used to tell him he stared too much. He thought he broke the habit, but right now, he can’t seem to drag his eyes away as he watched a myriad of emotions play across his friends face. Maybe other cats wouldn’t see the emotions as easily, but Sunpaw knew Rook. At least… he liked to think he did.

Rookpaw’s final question urged a wince from Sunpaw, and he cringed a little, looking down at his paws. Sunpaw hesitated, struggling to put his swirling thoughts into order. It took him a minute to choke out the feelings, floundering in uncertainty and the fear of misstepping again, in emotion strong enough to make him shake. It felt just like the argument, if less blindingly angry. Sunpaw was, at least, thinking before he spoke this time. His eyes briefly looked towards Willowpaw’s, uncertain if he found security there or another source of fear.

Finally, he tried. It was the only thing he could do after all. Try. “It’s-- it’s not really what I think,” He said.“What I said, I mean. I was just.” Sunpaw faltered, then tried again. “I know you were just worried for me. I mean, I know that now.” He dragged his eyes back to Rookpaw, resuming his stare. “It’s just that in that moment it felt--” He struggled for words that would make sense. “I was scared that if I couldn’t get better the way you wanted me to, you would leave me behind.” He finally admitted, ears going to lay flat on his head. He looked down. “I felt like I was failing you. Failing everyone.”

“I mean… What kind of warrior sulks in his nest? What kind of warrior would rather sleep than hunt? I just… I felt like I couldn’t get anything right. And I felt like, in the moment, like you were…” Sunpaw trailed off, and then in a tiny voice, admitted, “Growing tired of me. Of me dragging you down. I was angry because it felt like I was trying my best, but I still couldn’t get it right.”

Hesitantly, Sunpaw flicked his eyes upwards to look at Rookpaw. “I don’t resent you for having a brother, or resent Larkpaw. You’re incredibly important to me, I mean-- Rook, you’re the most important person in my life. Being without you has been miserable. I just.” Sunpaw chews on his words again, struggling. It felt like baring his heart open on the ground for Rookpaw to see, and it was painful. “I miss having a family.” He finally says quietly. “I’m not resentful, but I guess I am jealous sometimes, of getting to have a sibling.”

“And…” Sunpaw shifted then. He considered saying that he often felt as though Larkpaw would rather he wasn’t around at all, thinking with no small amount of bitterness of how Larkpaw has acted around him for as long as Sunpaw can remember, but he pushes that back. It didn’t feel fair to say. “And I was just… scared. Of being alone. I was angry because it felt like you were telling me I had to be better, and I was scared because I didn’t know how to be.” Sunpaw took a shaky inhale. “Still don’t know how to be.”

Finally, Sunpaw lifted his gaze, met Rookpaw's golden eyes, and spoke the words that had been bouncing around in his head for weeks now. "I'm sorry."

Willowpaw

Willowpaw remained silent while the pair spoke with one another. She didn’t understand everything that had happened, but she got a fair amount of context from what they said. When the conversation dwindled slightly, things growing quiet after Sunpaw’s quiet apology, Willowpaw lifted her head and spoke up.

“It seems to me that this whole thing came about from misunderstanding.” She looked between Sunpaw and Rookpaw. “That does not negate any hurt, but it does mean that neither of you wanted this rift to happen. You both clearly care about each other a lot. Relationships will always have problems, you know. You cannot avoid it, try as you might; it makes for healthy interactions to clash sometimes. But if you understand that, you can also understand that it is not a sign of disaster either.”

Willowpaw looked back towards the sky. She wondered idly when the light show would start. “It seems to me that you both never stopped being best friends, because you were both still so upset that you thought it ended. Things do not have to go back to normal, but I think you would both be happier if you stopped avoiding each other.”

RiverClan • Apprentice • She/Her • 20 | 60 • #6abcde

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