The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
Welcome to WCC! Here are our latest announcements:
Activity checks take place on the 1st of the month. If you miss one activity check, make sure you do the next one!
Leaf-fall is finally here, and with it, the promise of colder, crueler, days ahead.
Gatherings take place on the 1st of the month; keep your eyes out for a staff member's post!
Please feel free to hit up any staff member if you have any questions!
The day was late, darkness starting to creep in against the fiery sunset. The heat of the late afternoon had mostly burned off, leaving the cooler air of night to stir through their fur with the breeze. Rookpaw followed quietly behind Perchstar as she led them back to camp from their patrol of the borders, walking in companionable silence as they often did. Their attention mostly remained forward, although they did angle their head to look at Perchstar every few steps or so (and noticed they did not have to look up so much anymore; a strange realization).
They liked Perchstar. She was thoughtful, intelligent, and patient; cold in speech but no less caring, just as they were. As they’d grown accustomed to each other, Rookpaw had grown to appreciate their placement as mentor and apprentice. One thing had bothered them consistently though, but they had not thought to broach the subject yet, being that of their brother.
He had nothing good to say of her. Supposedly, she hated him entirely, though Larkpaw still held some faith being trained by the leader herself was an honor. On the contrary, Perchstar had never seemed particularly distasteful of him. Then again, Rookpaw had never watched them interact before. They were inclined to believe Larkpaw on principle, but that betrayed the empirical evidence of simply knowing their leader. It was conflicting.
Blinking away their thoughts, Rookpaw turned to eye Perchstar again. Their gaze searched her weary frame for several quiet paces before they finally broke the silence. “Perchstar. I have a question.” They said, tail-tip twitching once. They did not wait for permission to ask before continuing. “You do not hate Larkpaw, do you?”
Subject: Re: being human [C] Fri 1 Sep 2023 - 18:05
Perchstar was fond of the dusk patrol, especially during the hotter seasons. Though she was always awake early and asleep late, it was nice to see her Clan winding down for the evening, to see families sharing tongues and friends gathering at the fresh-kill pile. It was nice to know that safety and security would continue in her Clan, if only for the night. It made her feel as if she was not a complete failure at being a leader; as if another day, she had staved off the imminent disaster that lay waiting in the wings. Another night of peace. Another night of rest. Not for her necessarily, but for her Clanmates. And that was what was important.
Tonight was another such night. As the sunset waned, bright blazing orange fading to lighter pinks and duller purple, Perchstar made her way into the forest for one last border patrol. Rookpaw would be accompanying her. The company of her older apprentice was always one that she found herself enjoying, whether or not the time passed with any words spoken between the two of them. Lingering in silence always felt companionable to her. And as stars began to wink into existence, appearing suddenly in the deepening sky, it was at first that same silence that stretched out between them. Rookpaw had grown much, she realized. It seemed like not too long ago that she'd taken them on their first foray into the territory. But now, not only were they growing to the physical size of a warrior, but their bearing seemed more assured. More confident, almost. It was not a conscious change, she was sure, but rather an unconscious one that came from moons of experience. They had yet to ask her again about searching for their parents. She could not help but wonder whether that was because they themselves had given up, if it had simply dipped lower on their list of priorities, or whether it was no longer something that they wished for her assistance with. Either way, she would not ask. Not only because she did not wish to shatter the peaceful quiet they shared, but also because it would be an overstep of her boundaries. She doubted he saw her as a parental substitute. She was simply his mentor, and his leader. In neither case did she have the authority to insert herself into his familial life.
But to her surprise, the quiet did shift--and it was Rookpaw's voice that rose above the low warbles of distant nightingales. As always, they were straightforward in their wording. It was something that she appreciated about them. However, in this case, it gave her pause when their normal preface to a question was followed up by such a sharp query. Perchstar stopped in her tracks, blinking at the apprentice beside her. Often she forgot that Rookpaw and Larkpaw were related, if only because of the stark differences between the two. Larkpaw often got into trouble due to his impulsiveness, whereas Rookpaw was one of the most intelligent and thoughtful apprentices she'd had in her time. However, family they were. And so it was that they would certainly speak often, about various things... including her, it appeared. Once more she blinked, lids sliding gently over ice-blue eyes, a neutral gesture that managed to hide how the question baffled her completely. Hate? Was that truly what Larkpaw thought of her?
"No," she said finally. "I certainly do not." Had the few times she interacted with Larkpaw truly come off in such a way? Did all members of her Clan consider her like that? Was it her emotionless tone, or perhaps something else that she had done? She had not been the kindest when he intruded upon her den that one time, certainly, but...
“It’s a miracle you ever even became a warrior, and you expect anyone to take you seriously as a leader?”
No. She shook off Twistpool's voice with the slightest jerk of her head and returned her focus to Rookpaw's face. They were entirely in earnest, and the question had carried no accusation. It was a genuine question. However, the fact that even they would entertain the wonder.... It was pathetic that she felt a quiet ache in her heart, so she ignored it. "I hate none of my Clanmates," she said clearly, "and certainly not your brother. It is true that the first time we ever interacted, I was... not at my best. I suppose he has told you the story, has he not? Of how I snapped at him to leave my den? But perhaps not. Perhaps it does not even matter." Perchstar let out a sigh, trying to alleviate the tension in her shoulders. "But no. No, I do not hate or even really dislike him. It appears that he dislikes me for that interaction, as I cannot imagine what else could have given him the impression of hatred. Had I ever been unkind to him, or unfair? I believe I have treated him like any other apprentice in the Clan..." Her voice grew quieter than usual as it trailed off, her eyes vacant for a brief moment. Then the moment passed, and her leaderly subroutine returned. Her back straightened. Her face returned to neutrality. "But... no. Did he tell you why he thought that I hated him? Did he think that I... hated you, as well?"
Subject: Re: being human [C] Mon 4 Sep 2023 - 10:35
Rookpaw
Rookpaw had padded a few steps ahead before it registered that Perchstar had stopped. He stared at the empty space beside him and stopped, turning to blink back at her. Immediately, he got the feeling he had done something wrong by asking. Rookpaw's ears flipped backwards, but they held their mentor's eyes. It was at least a relief to hear for certain no ill-will sheltered in Perchstar's heart. It was the answer he'd expected, but a relief regardless. "He has," Rookpaw answered under the quiet sigh. Larkpaw had been terribly upset and frustrated by the affair, and his opinion was only remedied by Perchstar's position as their mentor. Rookpaw shook his head slowly and refocused. His mouth opened to continue as Perchstar's own voice drifted away, though it quickly shut when she spoke again, and he stared silently back at her in the face of her final question.
The assumption seemed a strange one to make. There was no reason for Perchstar to hate them. It prompted a faint worry that the question had been a sort of admission, but the same earnesty in their eyes was reflected in hers. She hated none of her Clanmates; she certainly did not hate her own apprentice. It was only a question, the same as their own. Rookpaw had gotten used to seeking her approval, but they hadn't realized how much they'd wanted her to simply like them until it was called to inadvertent question. Eventually, with a lingering note of confusion, "No. You have done nothing unkind to me. And I have only said good things to him. He is rather glad you are my mentor, actually, because the leader is sure to offer the best training. Though he often thinks you work me too hard. I do not mind, though." Their ears pressed a little lower as they spoke. They looked over their shoulder toward camp, wavering with consideration before deciding neither of them would continue this conversation walking. Rookpaw pushed out a breath and tucked into a hunched sit. "I am sorry if asking was... wrong. I do not believe you to harbor any real contempt for him, and certainly not for myself, but... I do not know. I had to ask. I do not know if for his sake or for my own."
Quiet for a beat, he gathered himself and set to actually addressing the questions and concerns left in the air. "It was unfair to snap at a kit who made a hapless mistake. Exploring and asking innocent questions is what kits do. If he had upset you somehow..." Rookpaw shook their head, thoughts wandering to their spat with Sunpaw. "It is fair that you would react according to your upset. It is... a circumstance I admittedly do not like to consider, because there is no one right and one wrong, and I do not appreciate nuance or subtlety. From my understanding you had both been fair, and both been unfair. Although Lark was still small, and knew no better yet. Even now..." Their voice drifted and Rookpaw huffed through their nose, pausing for a moment to untangle their thoughts. "Larkpaw... expects no one to like him." They restarted slowly. "I know he is standoffish and impatient, but it is not his fault. He is only upset so often because he has learned to be." They'd turned forward again, but Rookpaw's head bowed as he spoke to stare down at his paws. It made their chest ache, whenever they thought or spoke of Larkpaw's troubles. They wished they could just make things easier for him.
"Socializing is... difficult. I understand that... as do you. And it is difficult for him too. But his misunderstandings or sore feelings are seen only by the offense they cause, and he is punished for them. He rarely gets the opportunity to learn or to correct himself or to connect before he is disparaged for his temperament." Rookpaw pressed their paws into the dampened earth, stirring the muddied silt. "Recently, he had bit Pigeonpaw... when she was still in the nursery. He understands you should not bite kits, but she had threatened him first, and he had told her he would bite back were she to instigate. She did, and so he did. I had asked Pigeonpaw shortly after to ensure such was the case. You should not bite kits... but she had chosen to bother him, and she had been given proper warning. It was her lesson to learn. He did not need to be chased away by the medicine cat apprentice and Pigeonpaw's brother. I am sure he would have left the interaction at that.
"And he had had an altercation with Dovepaw, as well. The same day, I believe? I do not remember... but Dovepaw- 'kit -had wanted to find a space for himself in the apprentice's den before his ceremony. Lark, being present, turned him out onto the sand, which I do not think he has been consequenced for yet... yet. But he turned Dovekit away because the apprentice's den is not for kits; it is his space, and it had been intruded upon." Rookpaw sighed and picked his head up, eyes soft and faintly lit with emotion when they fell on Perchstar again. "He learned that from you. It still seemed the wrong step to take. ... Are those examples reasonable? One action is correct in one instance, and a grave offense in another. But those differences are not always clear, and the ire he earns follows a series of missteps." His tail, which had been swaying with slow restlessness while they rambled, curled tight around his forelegs, the very end of it still twitching to and fro. "He is rarely cruel for the sake of it... he is kind with me. He smiles with me, and he is excitable and happy, because I understand him. He does not have to think about every action and word for fear of me hating him over ignorance. I only want for him to feel the same comfort with others. Does that... do you understand that? Do I make sense?"
Subject: Re: being human [C] Mon 4 Sep 2023 - 12:18
Perchstar allowed herself a moment of relief that Rookpaw did not also think ill of her. It would have made no sense, she knew, but... she could never quite shake off the insecurity that all of her Clanmates hid their true feelings the same way she did, and that one of the feelings they all hid was their utter hatred of an incompetent leader. She knew beyond a doubt it was untrue for most of them. But one of them at least disliked her... and Rookpaw was saying it was her fault. It was difficult to keep her pelt from prickling up as she recalled the interaction that had led to such a misunderstanding. For her to spend her whole life believing everything to be solely her fault, and then for Poppyshine to work so hard to convince her otherwise, only to now hear an innocent apprentice whose opinions she highly valued telling her so again was... difficult. All of this was difficult. She knew there were other words to describe the tangled mess of emotions she felt, but she did not wish to dredge them up from her memory. It was pointless. But as Rookpaw went on, she knew that to feign a lack of care would be heinous. She had always been honest with him. Now would be no exception, even though it would ache to bring up such unhappy memories.
"Perhaps it would help if I offered context to our first interaction in which I behaved so unfairly. Context that Larkpaw did not--and does not--have. Partially because he has never cared to ask... and partially because it is a sore subject that I do not like to talk about." Her sitting position remained as straight-backed as always, but her tail curled gently around her paws, a sure sign that she was about to breach a topic that made her feel strong emotion in some way. Emotion that she wished to hide. "Even though Larkpaw--then Larkkit--entered my den without permission," she began, "that was not an inexcusable trespass. It is why I had not immediately ordered him to leave the moment I saw him there. While of course he should not have done, you ought to know me well enough by now to ascertain that I do not act rashly in either anger or sorrow. I did feel anger, however briefly, when I saw what he was doing. But it was not the act of trespass that made me feel so. As a leader, I have known many cats... and I have made many mistakes. Many that I have known, I have lost." Her ice-blue eyes gained a far-off look for a brief moment, recalling names--Hollyleaf. Cloverheart. Tinypool. Beetlepaw.--before snapping back to look at Rookpaw. "I am sure that you know how it feels to lose someone close to you. It is a feeling you know all too well for your age. A few things that I keep in my den are tucked safely under my nest. A rock, a feather... keepsakes from those long-gone. For me to remember them by. Larkkit had not only entered without permission, but was toying around with the objects that mean so much to me. Even then, I did my best not to be unkind, because I was aware he did not know of their significance. I simply told him the objects were, in fact, mine. He did not apologize or seek to understand. He simply questioned that I owned such objects and implied that it was kit-like to do so."
Perchstar shook her head, feeling the old, long-buried emotions return. She forced them back down. "Again, I am not seeking to justify my actions--rather simply to explain the reasoning that Larkpaw would not have told you, since he would not have known. Though this was an insult, it was obviously not intentional, and so I did not react poorly to it either. I kept composure and explained the objects were important to me. I asked why he had intruded. He explained his entrance into my den as curiosity and once more did not apologize. I admit to getting somewhat frustrated by this point, though I did not show it, since I knew that he was simply a kit doing what he thought best according to his own judgment. The moment that I am ashamed of came after he pointed out something worse." This would be the difficult part.
Perchstar's words were slow and careful, proclaimed neutrally despite the charged nature of each. "You know that I... do not often show emotion. This is not because I do not feel. I rather believe that you are similar to me in this way; that you feel things as strongly as others, but do not outwardly react in the same way, either because it is simply not in your nature or because you do not know how to do so properly. Or what is regarded by others to be proper, at least. I have already mentioned that the den was where I kept many items that reminded me of those who were lost. I do not know whether you have ever heard of this, but... when I was far younger, I used to have a mate." She attempted to say his name, but it stopped short on her tongue. It appeared that he had such power over her even now. She exhaled, then continued. "One day, he... disappeared. Not unlike your parents did. He was simply gone. All search parties were for naught. These many long moons, I had held out hope that one day, he would simply come back. I knew it had been too long, that he was most likely dead, and yet... I could not give up on him. He meant too much to me." Hopefully this would not cause too much pain for Rookpaw to be reminded of. She had been wondering earlier about his reduced questioning towards his parents, but... this might bring unpleasant feelings to the surface for him, just like it was now for her.
"When we were together, he slept in my den. He had his own nest right next to mine. When he vanished, I... I could not bear to get rid of it. It seemed like to do so would be to give up on him. It would be acknowledging that he could not return. I was not strong enough to do so. It sat in the corner of my den for moons, collecting dust, hurting me as much as it gave me the slightest dream that he may one day show up to reclaim it. Larkkit saw this nest and inquired as to who it belonged to, pointing out that he had never seen me share rest with any other cat and that it ought to belong to someone." Her scar-torn ear flicked once, one of the few outward signs of any feeling. It often meant that she was thinking hard, or that she was irritated. In this case it was an attempt to shake off the deluge of harshly bitter recollections that always descended when she even thought about the missing tom, let alone mentioned him so explicitly.
"This was an innocent mistake. However, compounded with his other trespasses and the soreness of the subject, it was simply the last straw for me. Again, I am not proud of how I acted. But it was too much. I kept as much composure as I could and simply ordered him to leave before I said anything unkind that I would regret. It seemed that I did not keep enough, however, for the conversation to have affected him so badly." She could not keep back a heavy sigh, which did not alleviate any of the tension creeping its way up her shoulders. "I would have apologized to him later, but... I was stubborn. He had never apologized for intruding upon my space and prying into my deepest insecurities. If he ever approached me, I reasoned, then I could explain and apologize. But he never did. Your explanation makes sense as to why he did not, but... I still cannot believe that the entire altercation was my fault alone. I ought to have been the more responsible one, since I am a fully grown leader, and he only a kit--or an apprentice. But acknowledging such emotion is... is hard for me. I try to keep the presence and actions of a leader. For a kit to have seen me react so, and to have torn that out of me with disrespect, was more than I could bear to tolerate." Perhaps it was reprehensible that she was defending herself in this way. And yet, something deep inside her could not quite let go of the ages-old hurt. She had not realized until this moment quite how stubborn she was. It was not even a grudge against Larkpaw, but a refusal to acknowledge that everything was her fault.
Perhaps... perhaps Poppyshine had gotten to her, after all.
"I still have never been unkind to him, since that moment. I have treated him as I would any other apprentice. Yet he has never let go of that grudge, and I suppose I have never given him reason to." Perchstar shook her head again. "The owner of the nest will not return. He... Ashflight... is long gone." The truth stung as she said it, like barbs ripping out of her throat, but she managed to say it anyway. "I disposed of it some time ago. And yet, it seems I can never truly dispose of all my emotions, no matter how much I would like to.
"I understand that Larkpaw is not a bad cat. I have never once thought him to be so. Trust me when I say you do not need to play defense for him. However, these are lessons that he must learn. I cannot take him by the scruff and drag him through socializing with the Clan. He must learn how to do so himself." This also was not some kind of misguided attempt to say that all should suffer if she had to--far from it. It was simply that she... did not know how it could possibly be otherwise. She could not live Larkpaw's life for him. "I understand the exchange with Pigeonpaw, which was why he was not punished any more than the chastisement he got from Wrenpaw. She was right to step in when she saw him attack a kit, especially since the explanation was only received afterward. And Dovepaw was right to attempt to defend his sister. He was not in the wrong to look at the apprentice den, and Larkpaw was not in the wrong to turn him away--but both were incorrect in how they handled it. One must learn that their feelings on what is correct will not always be deemed so by the majority. It is... a hard lesson to learn."
She had once mentioned to Rookpaw her apprenticeship with Sparrowclaw. She had not gone into much detail... and she would not do so, even now. Only enough context to make her words sensible. "I had to learn myself once, long ago, how to act around other cats. It seems that most are born with an intrinsic knowledge of social rules. Some, like myself, never received instruction from birth. The rules never made sense to me. I never had help deciphering the strange actions of others. This led to my apprenticeship being... uncomfortable." Perchstar flicked her ear once more, as if to wish the memories far far away from her. "I have done what I can to help those who seem similar avoid what happened in my case. I have taken you as my apprentice, Rookpaw, and done my best to teach what I could and answer where I can. I gave Larkpaw to Rowansong, who is a kind and caring tom that once gave his mentor as much trouble as Larkpaw now gives him. Many apprentices around you have interacted with you well, and even been companions. I know that my daughter Willowpaw considers you a close friend. Under my watch, I hope that no RiverClan cat will ever feel as alone and adrift as one who does not understand." And yet... and yet. What good was all her hoping if her Clanmates resented her? What good was it if she could not singlehandedly fix the world? A quiet, humorless huff left her. "But it seems that even with all the precautions I attempt, I have failed. I do not know what else it is possible for me to do." The knowledge made her throat constrict. A young Perchpaw, ignored by her mentor and shunned by peers, could never be enough. And the far older, wiser Perchstar could not keep what happened to her from happening to others. She could not remove all unkindness from the forest. She could not make everyone understand each other. How could she, when she hardly understood other cats herself?
Her eyes, which had been fixed intermittently on Rookpaw and the ground beneath them as she addressed them, finally slid off to the side. She could not bear to know what he would think of her failure now. It appeared to all be her fault once again, after all.
Subject: Re: being human [C] Thu 7 Sep 2023 - 19:40
Rookpaw
Rookpaw lifted at the offer of explanation, ears swiveling forward to show attention. Their whiskers twitched in place of allowing their ears to flatten again with the mention of it being a sore subject. They hummed acknowledgment and shifted to sit straight, slim tail wrapping around their paws, mirroring Perchstar's own posture. Rookpaw remained quiet and still while she spoke, only nodding where they felt appropriate. It would not be fair to interrupt when she'd allowed them to speak freely; when she'd deemed this important enough to supply her own thoughts, her own history. They set their thoughts to the side even when they desired to interrupt, whether the interruption be a simple agreement or something profound.
The first nod came with the acknowledgment of loss, and paired with their tail curling closer around himself. Shortly after came the first impulse to speak over her-- to say Lark would not have known to apologize if he hadn't known his actions were a personal offense beyond trespassing. Rocks and feathers were the play-things of kits. It was a fair assessment, if a rude one. But... Rookpaw pressed his toes into the softened ground again. He would have liked to have some small memento, something more to remember his father by than the waning memories of early kithood. If he had, he would've been protective over the items, too; defensive, if they were looked over with scrutiny.
His thoughts lingered on the mutually understood grief, though they were quieted by the brief shift instead to emotions. Another shared hardship. An ear flicked with agreement (though they weren't sure whether they agreed with nature or lack of understanding; perhaps both), and Rookpaw wanted to ponder the soft warmth it left in his chest before Perchstar made mention of a former mate. He blinked once and his ears flipped down again. His head was already bowing, eyes already closed before she admitted to her former mate's disappearance. Their hackles rippled through a bristle at the comparison to their father. It was an accurate one. It made their throat feel tight, like it was closing in on itself.
It was not just the ache of a prodded wound that made their shoulders square; it was the simultaneous moment of revelation, the sudden awareness they hadn't actively thought of their father for several moons now. A passing thought throughout the day, or rising unbidden to nag in the late hours... but his memory had no longer been a focus. Rookpaw's eyes fluttered open and he blinked twice down at his paws. He had almost forgotten what the ache felt like. That was why it had felt especially stabbing.
Constrained breath passed between their teeth and Rookpaw forced their chin back up. Their gaze fell on Perchstar and remained steadily, even as she shifted and looked askance. Their jaw briefly parted, tempted to interrupt her after all, but nothing came out. They were not sure what they would have said, anyway. Rookpaw sighed quietly, simply nodding again at the assessment that Larkpaw was not bad, that he did not need defending; that these were simply lessons he needed to learn for himself. Effort was needed to keep from sulking over that. They wished these were easier lessons to teach-- to learn in a way that was not trial and error after error.
For some odd reason, Rookpaw wished they'd had a more difficult time. But... as Perchstar said, she'd done everything she could to teach them in all manners. And... they had made friends. Rookpaw tilted their head to the side, brows raising in an affect of surprise. Their pelt warmed strangely knowing Willowpaw thought of them as one. They thought favorably of a pawful of cats, now that they'd had time to grow more comfortable with them, but there were few they considered a friend. They did not want to assume so mistakenly. Friendship seemed a novel concept, even still. Rookpaw sighed softly and their gaze traveled to the side when Perchstar looked away, as well. A spot of light glowed in their chest, and they felt guilt for it; yet, it remained.
Quiet stretched for several moments. Rookpaw watched a scatter of waterfowl take to the distant sky, black figures against late-evening gold. When the birds were out of sight, flown too far or hidden by passing clouds, he turned back to Perchstar. "I do not think you have failed," he said, tilting his head again. "Perhaps made a mistake... but an honest one. As has he. We are not infallible beings. ...Sadly." Rookpaw's tail swept out from where it'd remained tightly curled, brushing through the short grass surrounding them. "I had only wanted to explain Larkpaw's position and, although I did not doubt you, ensure there was no grudge. I do not... know what more I wanted from this. I do not think I expected a solution. I had hoped there was an easy one. But I do not think I truly expected one. At least-- thank you. At least. For offering your perspective."
Their whiskers twitched and they whispered, "I am sorry. About Ashflight. It is difficult. ...You do not need me to tell you that." Rookpaw's eyes fell to stare at their paws yet again, closing briefly. "I cannot apologize on my brother's behalf. Though that may be hypocritical, as I am platforming for him. But I do apologize for the loss of your mate... and for the others. As well as for the difficulties of your youth. Perhaps it is selfish to say, but I am grateful you had learned such lessons before me, so my own may be easier."
The familiar, pensive quiet befell them again. A desire to lean forward in a quiet press of understanding and comfort-- a desire normally inspired only by Larkpaw --bubbled in their chest. Rookpaw's ears flipped forward and back while they studied the feeling. Eventually, they lifted a paw, one that wavered uncertainly in the air for a minute before they slowly reached out. They did not stretch near enough to make contact, but they placed their paw down right in front of Perchstar's own in a gesture they hoped showed support. "I do not fault you for the... altercation. As I do not fault him. And I do not fault you for his continued... trouble." Rookpaw spoke softly, and kept his attention on the outstretched paw while he did. "I just wanted... to know. And now, I do. Thank you, for answering. ...I am sorry again for asking. It appears it was sensitive. Perhaps I should not have."
Another pause. Rookpaw let out a measured breath and looked back up, eyes shining and fixed on Perchstar. "You are a good mentor, and a good leader, and I am grateful you are mine on both accounts. I do not believe the resentment of one cat is indicative of personal failing. ...Perhaps you do not know what else you can do because you are doing enough. You have for me. Perhaps Lark may come to hold you in the same regard... perhaps he may not. I do hope he does. But you are both good cats, in your own right, even if he does not like you much. Maybe that is enough."
![being human [C] 833dIG1](https://i.imgur.com/833dIG1.png)