Strangers [closed]

For a feline who so often found herself in the midst of companionship, it was odd to truly be on her own. Hardly did she ever take a seldom patrol nowadays. She was always speaking with one of her clanmates. Whether it was her deputy, Acornstem, on their every-other-day patrols that they took to catch up and know how the Clan was doing, one of the warriors she wanted to bond with, or even a few of the apprentices simply to assess where they were in their training. Always, she had another cat at her side. It was of personal philosophy for the molly. Taking the role of repairing her bonds with her Clanmates was one that she took seriously, and she hardly ever slipped up.

The downside of that was never having much time for herself.

While that would have easily driven some cats mad, for the thunder-crowned leader, she welcomed it. Throwing herself into the persistent need to serve her clan and always surround herself with her Clan was a life that she loved. Thrived under, even. It was almost impossible to truly believe that she had once been a shy apprentice, hardly able to speak to any other cat save for her mentor and future mate. Even into her younger moons as a warrior, she didn't talk much to her clanmates outside of being there to give them a helping paw. Only ever talking to Minnowfin, Stoatstar, or her kits. Comfreyheart too, though she was Comfreypaw back then. It bewildered her to think just how much time had passed, her memory of the onyx molly still first picturing her as the young, excited feline.

Before she knew it, she found herself at one of the borders of her territory. Thunderpath. The sting of monsters and two-legs first hit her nose, followed by the marshy scent of Shadowclan. She couldn't help but stop herself there, looking over the border. Part of her wondered how Nightstalker was doing, now that Leopardsun had taken over for him. As much as she had tried to fully distance herself from the tom, she couldn't help but wonder about him sometimes. He still sired her kits, one of which who no longer found herself in allegiance to either of their clans. Flicking her tail, the tortoiseshell moved along her border. Still... she kept her gaze towards the other side. It was hard not to wonder if she'd see him, or another Shadowclan warrior.

He found himself alone a lot these days. Unsure if it was of his own doing or if Shadowclan now thought him unworthy of companionship. He didn't really know if he wanted to find out which one it was, the anger that he had been so quickly abandoned and disregarded was only a reminder of everything. Shadowclan did not feel like home, perhaps it hadn't for a lot longer than he thought, but now he was just a stranger amongst enemies, just waiting for the moment he slipped up to tear into what remained of him.

So maybe he was alone, but maybe now that was a mercy for all cats involved. Why had he ever bothered to do so much for Shadowclan only to receive scorn? He shook his head as if to clear it of the thoughts that plagued him. Did he really want to be in Shadowclan anymore? Nothing but his sister tethered him to the marshes now, and it was not like Mistyfalcon or the rest of his family wished to even see him alive.

His paws brought him to the thunderpath, his paws at the edge of the rumbling path as he stood looking across the path. He was asked when the truth had come out if he could brush away the family he had in Thunderclan, toss aside the care they claimed he had for them, and he was resolute at the time that he knew he wouldn't be swayed by it. But with how things were now? Mottlestar and his kits became tempting in an odd way.

But did Mottlestar even want to have anything to do with him? The kittens that he was determined to slaughter if it meant staying as Shadowclans leader? They never meant anything to him then, that was undoubtedly true. But that was then. But they didn't know everything that his clan scorned him for, in fact, Mottlestar would not blame him for it at all. They were both sinners, after all.

A steadily growing shuffling grew as a cat traveled up the path towards him, but Nightstalker did not shrink away as he looked towards the source, and to his surprise it was the molly that he was thinking of. He blinked, surprise evident as he etched away briefly as she came walking up the path.

"Mottlestar. Good evening." He... greeted?

He looked behind him, nothing but scorn and hatred awaited him there. And he turned back towards Mottlestar, a small kindle that maybe... just maybe he could reignite once more? Shadowclan could rot for all he cared, for they'd leave him to die. He was sure of it. But Mottlestar he was certain was too kind to leave him to rot amongst the living. Right?

She couldn't tell if it was cruel or kind of the stars that it was that very tom who appeared across the path. A gentle chuckle radiated from the tortoiseshell that she couldn't contain, her head tilting towards the sky to offer it towards her ancestors. That's one way to answer my thoughts. She mused, almost wondering if she would spot the trickster above, even without the stars fully shining in the sky just yet. Shaking it away, there was still a lingering feeling of joy that she couldn't quite place at knowing he was the one who had appeared.

At least they both were surprised. With a smile on her maw, she dipped her head in turn. "Nightstalker. I'm surprised, I didn't expect to cross paths with you tonight." Her greeting was warm, the same tone she would carry with any other senior warrior that deserved at least some respect. Even if now, she outranked him, it was hard not to still see him as another leader. They'd both stepped into their roles at the same time, after all. Memories of that evening floated by, and while they were laced in pain, it was impossible not to ignore the comfort she took in them on some nights, too.

To say she was lonely... well, it was an ironic statement. In a Clan where she so consistently did her best to surround herself with her clanmates, invest herself in their lives so thoroughly she could have easily viewed them all as kin? She missed having a companion. She longed to share her den with someone else once more. Minnowfin's passing still tore at her heart whenever she looked at Briarrose, Redpaw or Comfreyheart. It was foolishness to waste her time wishing he could have stayed, longing for him to have recovered so she would still simply be Mottlerose. Not Mottlestar. As she looked at the tom in front of her, it was that sort of longing that she felt sounding off in her heart again. The night of companionship they had taken... the selfish part of the tortoiseshell yearned for that once more.

But she couldn't. Not in good faith to her clan. She'd made that mistake once, had allowed herself too many mistakes. The Thunderclan leader owed it to her Clan to do better. To be better. Even then, who would stop her from civil conversation? It wasn't a sin to talk to him... right?

"How are things?" The question was easy enough, pulling the tortoiseshell from her otherwise distracting thoughts. "I didn't see you in the crowd at the last gathering-is everything alright?" One look at him told her the truth. It made that deep-etched care lurch forward, the need to help making her paws itch. Somehow... she kept herself rooted there. Across the path. She didn't need to give him reason to fight her, and if she knew Nightstalker... simply broaching the subject was rough terrain to begin with. It wasn't pity that she looked at him with, though. Far from it. No, it was that pure, unbridled care that he'd seen in her once before. "Are you alright?"

"Neither did I." Nightstalker returned, observing her as she edged the path just as he was doing. However, it did not take long for Mottlestar to soften, for the care and concern that she always seemed to hold within her to come forth in her gaze. She of course asked him, how he was doing, and he always was ready to vehemently deny anything other than good health. But what good did that do for him?

Shadowclan hated him now, didn't care before everything, and when he opened his heart they tore him to shreds. "I'd hoped that Leopardstar would tell everyone I was dead. But I see she made it clear that was not the case." He found himself saying, tone sour and angry. "It is enough to bare the constant hatred and scorn of one clan, I do not need the rest of the forest to be aware I am alive to do the same. Or finish the job." Nightstalker scoffed, rolling his eyes flippantly as if it didn't constantly eat at him nowadays, his claws unsheathing and digging into the moss and muck below his paws.

A harsh, gritty chuckle erupted from Nightstalker "It wouldn't be hard, that's for certain" anger, pain, and misery twisting his organs and squeezing them so tightly he thought he might have a heart attack then and there. He was a shadow of what he used to be, Shadowclans best warrior now constantly plagued by nightmares and horrible pain that bled from his back to his very marrow. Starclan may have done their best to heal his wounds, but repeated trauma could only be healed so much. Monsters, Trees, Badgers, and Lightning have beaten his body into a pulp time and time again. It was agony, and while he was sure he'd be reluctantly treated, he refused to let himself near the medicine cats. Those relationships were burned and buried, there would be no solace there.

"I will be fine." He meowed, lying now, just as he always had and maybe always will. There was no room for his feelings, never had been and never would be. "Has Thunderclan been treating you well?" Since the reveal? Having gone unsaid as he desperately tried to move away from the subject matter being him, and onto the smaller she-cat.

Leopardstar. So, the former deputy had in fact gone and now earned her lives. Storing that information away, there was truly little she could do with it other than make note. It wasn't as if she had any plans on disrupting the peace they finally seemed to get a glimpse of any time soon. The entire forest needed time to breathe, and she would sooner have Pricklebush rip away the rest of her lives from her than be the one to disrupt it.

From the way he spoke, it was impossible for the tortoiseshell to truly believe it was the mighty warrior in front of her. She refused to allow pity to show, because pity meant a lack of desire to act. No, it only made her gentle heart wish to envelop him even more, to call out to the hurting and help heal them. It was amazing at times that she hadn't been called to follow the path of a medicine cat instead, but instead that of a leader. His pain struck her, the fact that he even showed it to her spoke to just how harsh it was. Even if it was simply the selfish idea that he was letting her see it. There was certainly no doubt that all he'd gone through would cause torture upon the body, even just the simple exhaustion that came from losing a life... not to mention, being stripped of whatever he had been left with? Mottlestar felt lucky to not be in his position.

Her gaze narrowed just slightly at his attempt to pass the conversation onto her, his comments clearly not fooling the leader. "Will be fine implies that you are not. I would have thought more of Shadowclan to care for a senior warrior, regardless of their views of your actions." She was careful to mind her tongue, but it was obvious that his allegiance to the marsh-dwellers was waning. Her head snapped to the side as a monster came roaring past, and she took a step back out of caution. The last thing that Thunderclan would need was their leader losing a life to foolishness... even if it sometimes felt she had lost two for that very reason.

Taking a moment for the ringing of the beast's cry to leave her ears, she focused back on the tom across the path. She could see the way the recent events had eaten at him, chewing him up and spitting him out into a shell of what he once was. It was cruel, in her opinion, even if she did not know the extent of what went on in the marsh. Mottlestar failed to believe there was any events of high treason that would deem him a lost cause, or else his Clan would have already culled him. Not allowed him to live in such misery and agony.

Still, she could at least answer his question. "...It... is improving." While not all of her relations with her clanmates had been fully repaired, at least things seemed to be mostly well. Comfreyheart hadn't fully abandoned her, and Firefly at least was back at camp. "Too much has happened in the last few moons to truly digest it all, I think. But, they allow me to keep my title and I have paid my dues." Why was she confiding this in him? Had this been any other cat, it would have been a dangerous path to walk. Yet... This was Nightstalker. He'd seen her at her worst, just as she perhaps saw him now. It was hard to ignore the fact that this wasn't the first time she had confided in him.

Looking down at her paws, Mottlestar took a deep breath. She had to choose her words carefully. Balancing her selfish desire to take care of those she'd formed some semblance of a bond with whilst also remaining dutiful and vigilant to her Clan. "I... Please, do not take this the wrong way, but... as the father of my kits, no matter how you feel about them... Stars, even as just a leader. Should you feel the marshes are no longer your home, or wish to leave behind the life that seems to pain you, Thunderclan will welcome you. I cannot promise an easy transition, but I can promise a new start. No cat who has given their lives to a Clan be left in a state as yours." Even as her tone turned more regal and formal, it was still wrapped in her signature care. The emotions that she could never truly smother, never hide away. Her heart would always be visible on her pelt. "You seem far from happy, Night... Nightstalker. But I respect whatever choice you make." While the nickname slipped her tongue, she was quick to state his name after a shake of her head.

Would she do this for anybody else? She would extend the offer to Perchstar in a heartbeat. Birdstar, even. Shrikestorm could rot in the pits of the dark forest for all that she cared, but Smallstar? Perhaps. Any other cat? Most likely. It was a moral code she could not break. "Though, I'll tell Leopardstar not to leave too many walking ghosts on her borders next I see her." A poor attempt at a joke, but she at least needed something to try and lighten the mood... even if it just ended up being a slight jab at his state. "I'll be considering it good luck I got to see one. Luck seems to be nowhere to be found these days."

Nightstalker remained silent for several heartbeats, his face falling flat and stony as he silently considered the she-cat and her offer across the way. "Shadowclan is no longer the home it once was." He admitted, so quiet that the monsters whipping by stole away the admission from waiting ears. It meant a lot more to him than even he thought it would, that Mottlestar would put her reputation and leadership on the line for his health and happiness, despite everything he had done.

He found his paws edging away from the border, a strange feeling of fear building up in his chest now as he considered. Mottlestar seemed to be the only cat in the whole forest who had seen what he had done, both the good and the bad. That was more than the whole of Shadowclan ever did for him. A slow snarl started to prickle at his lips, while maybe he'd appreciate the joke Mottlestar had given, the rising anger and frustration mounted again. He gave a stiff nod to Thunderclan's leader, "I better go, before they call the dogs on my scent." He meowed, pivoting on his paws and swiftly disappearing into the undergrowth, amber eyes gleaming.