Chaconne [Closed]

Starlingflare had given Dovepaw some space after their first meeting, giving him time to think things over, but now he was anxious to meet his son again. He had so many things he wanted to go over, as well as show his son the special move he had learned forever ago when the Dark Forest walked the territories, but they didn't need to know where it came from. Maybe one day they will but for now he needed to make sure the bond between him and his kits were strong.

Every night he fell asleep, he wondered if it would happen. Some part of him feared the return of foggy landscape and haunting specters. A smaller, quieter part of him remembered how it felt to hear the word "father"... How it felt to feel wanted. So despite the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach--despite the concern that it might have not been a dream after all--despite how hard it was to war against the desire for it to be real after all--Dovepaw found himself thinking of the cat who called himself Starlingflare as he drifted off to sleep.

This time, it happened. Smoggy gray mist surrounded him when he blearily opened his eyes. This time, he did not feel the spike of confused panic. He felt concern, dread, certainly. Also a worrying surge of elation that only lasted briefly. It hadn't been a dream--he would never dream about the same thing twice. And yet, and yet, he could not prove it to be real. He did not want it to be real, did he? He did not want this one-eyed ghost for a father. He was not that desperate. ...Was he?

What about his siblings? What if this tom came for them, too?

Still, older now and slightly wiser than the first time he'd been here (or so he hoped), Dovepaw straightened his shoulders and remained at his spot on the uncomfortably damp ground. "...Father?" he called, trying not to sound uncertain. Trying not to sound like a kit. "Are you here?"

"I'm here." Starligflare stated as he approached his son, keeping his demeanor as relaxed as possible. "It's so good to see you again, I know things have gotten a bit crazy for the clans lately.. I'm glad to see you are holding up." He knew things were starting to not look good for the clans, but there was nothing he could do about it. He could only hope like the living was that things would pass. What was Starclan even doing? They claim to care so much, but they do nothing time and time again. At least he could do something.. make sure his kits were a little more prepared for this disaster waiting to happen.

"How are things for you? Training going good?" He didn't want to jump into the main reason for this visit just yet, but soon. He needed to make sure that Dovepaw was well enough for a little extra training in his dreams.

There he was, emerging like a specter from the fog. The tom with a dripping wound and a single eye. The tom who, with such kindness, spoke to him like a father asking his son about his day. Such a trivial, domestic scene. One he'd never had before. Dovepaw tried not to let the casualness of it all strike him like a blow to the heart. Would it really be so bad, if this was real? Would it be so awful to believe that this dream-ghost was truly his father? That he had a father... one that loved him?

"It's been... I've been doing well," he managed to say, the words feeling stiff on his tongue even as he longed to tell Starlingflare everything he'd ever felt. "I mean, as well as I can be. I've gotten really good at fighting. I got really far in the apprentice sparring tournament! And I think I'm pretty good at hunting and fishing, even though... well. There's not much prey to go around lately." Dovepaw couldn't quite bring himself to make eye contact with the commanding yellow gaze. He scuffed the ground with a dark brown paw. "But I mean, you're dead, and you're a figment of my imagination, so I guess you should know all of this already." He... hadn't meant for those words to come out sounding so bitter. Dovepaw swallowed, forcing himself to look up. "Sorry. I just... it's been hard. I want you to be real, I think. But I just don't know if you are. I don't want to get my hopes up if you're going to disappear, too." His concerns about being from ThunderClan, the uneasiness that he got when he thought of this tom speaking with Swanpaw and Pidge and the others, he left unspoken. If Starlingflare wasn't real, he would know those things, too.

Starlingflare stepped closer to his son, curling his tail around the apprentice, trying to provide some comfort. At first he wasn't sure if this is what Dovepaw wanted, but he knew the younger tom needed it. "I assure you Dovepaw, I am very much real and not something you just made up, and while I can see what is happening in the forest, I do not know everything. So I don't know what troubles you unless you tell me." He hoped he words were helping his son with.. well everything.

"If you need to, you can ask your sisters about me. I have visited with them too." He just hated he couldn't be there in actuality. To see them grow and become wonderful warriors. He hadn't had the chance to run into the last of the litter yet. Ravenpaw has been especially difficult to catch.

The silver tom stood, and walked ahead of Dovepaw, giving the tom a moment of space, and quiet to process his words. Once that moment had passed, the tom spoke up. "I know times are tough, but I have some battle techniques that I can teach you, that will hopefully help with these tough times. That is.. if you are willing?"

For some reason, the ghost--Starlingflare--his father--wasn't offended at all. Instead, Dovepaw was startled to find the sensation of a tail curling around him in a gesture of comfort. He could... he could feel the fur of his tail against his back. Was this real? How real was this? Was it actually even a dream? Was he just imagining this, too? Everything was so strange, so hard to quantify. Still, the easy way that the kind, parental motion had been made caused a lump to form in his throat. Starlingflare said he was real. This moment certainly felt real. Was it real? If it was... was that bad?

"If you need to, you can ask your sisters about me. I have visited with them too."

For some reason, that made his muscles tense up. This Starlingflare had visited the dreams of Pidge? Of Swanpaw? They hadn't told him about it. But he hadn't told them about this either, had he? No, because... that would have meant acknowledging it was real. But if he woke up tomorrow and went to them and asked, and they said that they had... there was no way for them to be lying. He'd have to know it was real. But something about that made his stomach turn over with nausea.

Dovepaw was so lost in his thoughts he hardly even noticed that Starlingflare's tail slipped off of his shoulders, and by the time he noticed, the single yellow eye was looking at him again with a question. With a challenge, almost. "Battle techniques?" he echoed, as if the words were in a different, unfamiliar language. Dreams of a tom who claimed to be his father. Swanpaw and Pigeonpaw. ThunderClan. And now he was offering to teach new ways of fighting. Something about all of this was setting off loud alarms in his head, the kind that follow you into a nightmare when you don't know exactly what is wrong, and he was about to open his mouth again and say no when he stopped. A few memories struck him. Sand in his nose. A loud cry in camp. The hiss of a snake. A trampled white corpse. Wouldn't... wouldn't it be good if he got stronger? If he knew extra ways to fight, to protect his family? Nothing bad would happen to them if he was strong enough. To refuse would be selfish. Besides, if he was stronger, then he could even protect himself. So Dovepaw found himself straightening his back, squaring his shoulders. "Yes. I'm willing to learn. Please... father. Teach me."

Starlingflare nodded, pleased with his son's answer, glad he was willing to learn and get stronger. "Brilliant, we can start as soon as you are ready. We will take this at your pace, nothing else." The silver tom needed his son to be the one to seek out power, not be forced into it. If he was forced, then he would be driven to hate it.

"I have an old move I can teach you, its not one commonly found used by the clans today. I will just simply call it 'Charge', for a lack of a better name. We can start there."  The one eyed tom sat down opposite of his son, waiting on the go ahead for the training to start. "After you get that down, we can stat refining and practicing everything you know."

Dovepaw squared his shoulders, trying to dismiss the strange queasiness in his stomach. It was fine. None of this was real... and even if it was, what harm could it do? If his dreams taught him a new way to protect his family? Still something itched at the back of his brain. As if he had heard of this before. Deja vu. But he shook out his fur and stood up tall, preparing himself. "Okay. Just... Charge? So I just run into someone? How do you do it?" He didn't trust this tom, he thought. Starlingflare. His father. But what did trust matter, if it was just a dream? And if this really was his father, just reaching beyond the grave to talk and to train, like a normal family... was there really anything wrong with that?

"Its a little different from just running into someone. You lower your head, use your shoulder, and charge into the side of the cat. Preferably where their ribcage is. The goal is to knock the air our of them and leave them useless for a bit. It gives you a second to collect yourself in a fight, take advantage of their weak moment." Starlingflare said. "Go ahead give it a try on me, it won't hurt me." The one eyed warrior stood at the ready, bracing for the charge.

Okay... head down, charge with shoulders, aim for the ribcage. A stunning blow. Kind of like yanking someone's tail to force them to the ground, like he'd been taught, or like the RiverClan move of shoving an opponent's head temporarily beneath the water. Just to gain an advantage. It sounded like a smart tactic. Dovepaw sat for a moment, sizing up the tom before him. He was physical enough to attack. The single yellow eye gleaming out of the darkness... why did he feel so uneasy for a moment? Sparring with a parental figure was what other sons did, wasn't it?

Dovepaw narrowed his eyes and squared his shoulders. Instead of Starlingflare, he pictured a different face. Dark pelt and glaring yellow eyes. Snarling at Pigeonpaw. His fur bristled. In a moment he rushed forward at the tom's side. Just before impact, he angled the point of his shoulder forward, driving it heavily just under Starlingflare's hard ribs. Then, panting, he stumbled away. Had he done his job? That had certainly felt like it physically worked. If this was just a dream, why had the physical exertion tired him so much?

Starlingflare watched intently, watching Dovepaw's movements. He seemed unsure at first, but then he squared himself. Good, good, it seemed his son was embracing the teaching, steadily the tom stepped back and spread his paws a bit, bracing himself for the coming impact. As soon as contact was made, the tom let out a quite "Oof." He could feel air leaving his unneeded lungs. The impact was good. He had accomplished the move, but he certainly needed to work on using it in the moment, but that is something that would come in time.

Once he recollected himself, the tom gave a firm nod to his son. "Good, that was a good blow. You have to get used to the movement more, but that will happen with practice. Try it one more time on me, and then we will call it for this session. It's almost dawn." The silver tom stated, preparing himself for Dovepaw to try again.

Dovepaw felt his sides heave slightly. Blood ran through his veins with adrenaline, just like it did every other time he sparred. Was his sleeping body mimicking how it felt to be awake... or was this really more than a dream, after all? The thought flew out of his mind when he heard Starlingflare's words. Praise. He'd done well. Not perfectly, but well. Something warm stirred in his chest. Maybe that was what it felt like to have a father give encouragement. It felt... well, not bad. It didn't feel bad at all.

One more time? "All right, okay." Dovepaw echoed Starlingflare's nod and let out a deep breath. Once more his eyes narrowed, and his limbs tightened in anticipation. If the tom in front of him was an enemy... if his siblings were being threatened at all... Once more Dovepaw rushed forward, feeling his paws hit the ground with more confidence this time. The start was a little bit easier when he knew exactly how the end would feel. Running forward, darting back and forth so his movement was unpredictable--then, at the very last second, angling in with his shoulder and aiming straight for the weak point beneath the rib. This time he knew it landed true. He felt the impact, the way that Starlingflare's form--though ghostly and not quite alive--stiffened from the blow. He backed away again, feeling exhaustion begin to tear at his lungs, but his eyes were alight. Some small part of him hoped to hear that he had done well again. It was almost dawn, and he would wake up soon... but it wouldn't be so bad to linger in this dream, just for a moment longer.

Starlingflare tensed himself again for the impact that was coming, based on Dovepaw's form this time he knew that the tom was more sure of himself, more at ease with the movement. It wasn't going to be perfect, but he certainly learned fast. The false air escaped the tom at the moment of impact, and the ghastly form stumbled back, but he quickly recovered. "Amazing, you are picking this up rather fast." The silver tom praised. His yellow eye flicked away from his son, off into the distance. It was dawn, time for their meeting to end.

"Time for me to go. Keep practicing that move I showed you. It will be useful one day." The warrior informed the apprentice, before the tom and the area around him slowly started to vanish.

Amazing? He was... amazing? Again a warm glow filled Dovepaw from the inside, pushing back the exhaustion that threatened to break through from the difficult technique. He'd done it. He'd done well. And he'd learned a special move that was probably from ThunderClan, meaning that most other RiverClan cats wouldn't know it--so in the case of battle or danger, he could be uniquely helpful. His chest puffed out just slightly at the praise. But then his face fell again at the reminder that this wasn't real. It was just a dream, and it was ending. Starlingflare and the strange terrain around him began to vanish. "I'll remember it," Dovepaw promised hastily, hoping that his father would catch the words. "I'll use it."


Morning. The dream was over. But then why did he feel so... tired? As if it had been real after all? Dovepaw groaned, stretching out his limbs and doing his best to ignore the ache of his muscles as he did so. How odd. It wasn't as if he could actually have been running around, because here he was, still safe in his nest. Pale blue eyes drifted around the apprentice's den, settling on his brothers and sisters in turn. Pigeonpaw, Swanpaw, Ravenpaw. Did they... did they have these dreams too? He needed to ask, but he feared the answer. His throat tightened when he tried to swallow down the strange mix of emotions. Loss for a father he'd never known, hope and love from a father who he could know if it was real. The pride of being praised and the worry about this scarred cat talking to his siblings. And above all... confusion. Uncertainty. Because if it wasn't real, then that meant nothing. But, if it was real... then what was he going to do?