Weeds, All Of Us[C]

Ever since receiving Dandelionpaw, Sootstorm had made a considerable effort to have far more training sessions with both his apprentices. This included far more battle and hunting practices with Stoatpaw, honing his son's skills to the best of his ability. But in order to do, he had to rush from one duty to another; assign the morning patrols, take Dandelionpaw out for a training session while Stoatpaw went on a patrol, sent out the sunhigh patrols, took Stoatpaw out this time, sent out the evening patrols, take the apprentices out for their moonstone journeys, if needed, and finally make it back to his nest at moonhigh, only to wake up before the sun rose to start all over again. Sometimes, he'd be so busy rushing to his next destination that he'd forget to eat; when he finally did, the prey on the fresh-kill pile would be cold, if not half-frozen. He'd have to eat the limp, cold pieces until he finished at least half of it, then head back to the warrior's den to collapse in his nest. It was beginning to affect his work; little moments where he'd space out and miss something, much to his frustration, or sometimes he'd forget what he was saying. His paws had never felt so heavy in his life.

And now, he was watching as Stoatpaw hunted a rabbit. His head felt woozy, light as a feather, ready to be blown away in the softest breeze. And yet the wind was howling in his ears, lulling him to sleep. Sootstorm shook his head, blinking away his sleep to try and focus on his son. But the world was tipping slowly to the side, and for some reason his chest felt so warm and comforting and- no. He had to stay awake. He had to do his best for Stoatpaw. The deputy blinked, finally focusing properly on Stoatpaw, only to find that his son was starring straight at him, probably having just said something. Embarrassment washed through him, and with a sheepish smile he asked, "Sorry, what were you saying? I'm afraid I missed it."

He could tell that he was letting Stoatpaw down. He could feel his son's disappointment and rage because it so closely matched his feelings for himself. He hated himself too. He had told himself, when he received his first apprentice, that he'd do a better job than his own mentor. Tigerstar had been sickly during the time that Sootstorm was an apprentice, and more often than not he had been pushed on patrols with other warriors. It meant that he could spend plenty of time with his denmates, but also that he had no special mentor to bond with like his peers. And now he was repeating the same mistakes, all because of his incomptence, his lack of ability to manage his time properly and help his Clan.

Stoatpaw's question was a claw to his chest. It was clear that it was not a question meant to be answered, which only made him feel worse. Would Stoatpaw have been better off having another warrior as a mentor? Had he really made such a big mistake in assigning his son to him? Regret bubbled up in him in the form of tears that threatened to escape him. His head felt heavy, light and unbearably warm. Was he somehow on fire, depite the freezing snow that was all around him? The deputy pushed himself to his paws, his body seemingly heavier than ever and his legs as unstable as twigs. He made to step forward, to be by his son's side, to apologise, for how he had failed so horribly. But no sooner had he taken a step forward did the world tip before him. There was a heartbeat where he was still moving forward, barely balanced and swaying precariously. The next moment, the snow had engulfed him, the shocking cold shooting through his body to quell the heat that now burned within him. His vision swam, the world blurring and fading out before him. In the distance, he could hear Stoatpaw saying something, but the world was drifting further with each heartbeat and he couldn't hold on any longer. He wanted to say something, but everything felt so heavy and his legs were splayed out uselessly and- Sootstorm took in a deep breath, one last gasp of air, before his eyes rolled back and the world shut off for the first time.

OOC: rolling dice for effects :) yes, death is one of the ten options~ first dice determines effect, second determines severity, 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest. result will be released in the next post!!

OOC: Due to Sootstorm's severe exhaustion, and the fate of the Dice, his chances of getting a heartattack in the future during stressed situations will be increased by 40%! Whether he dies from them will be up to the Dice :)

The world spun itself back to him, small, deliacte threads of stars spinning and weaving together to form a vast moorland with moonbathed silver poppies that blinked up at him with the light of a thousand stars. The ground beneath him shifted in a thousand hues of deep purple and rich black, swirling like waves trapped under ice as he padded across the flower field. Sootstorm wondered where he was, and how he got here. Something told him that he belonged here, and that he should find peace here, so long as he stayed in peace. But something else, a little disturbance at the back of his mind, nagged that this was not where he belonged, and that there was something he was forgetting. Something very dear to him. But what?

The tom did not have the time to ponder for long, as the stars shifted once more to form the figure of a dazzling she-cat before him. Lilacsong stood in front of Sootstorm, her heart aching for the deputy. Gently, she nosed the tom. “Come on, get up. It’s not your time yet. Your Clan still needs you. Your son still needs you.”


Sootstorm stumbled to his paws, unsure of how he was still laying down when he had so obviously been walking around mere heartbeats before. Or had he always been laying down?

She regarded Sootstorm kindly, her eyes soft, understanding. They made him feel warm inside, as if her gaze had touched something special in him.

“It won’t be easy, but you will be leader one day. Cats will look up to you, they already do. He looks up to you. And he wants your love. But you need to get up to give it. You need to keep pushing forward.” ...Leader? He? Sootstorm opened his mouth, questions at the tip of his tongue, but before he could ask anything the she-cat had leaned in and cut him off.

She pressed her nose to the deputy’s forehead. “There will be pain in this life. The life of a leader is not an easy one to lead. But you will be great. I trust you to take care of my Clan. Don’t give up on them. Don’t give up on yourself.” Ah, he remembered now. Stoatpaw, who he had left behind. Stoatpaw, who he had angered. Stoatpaw, his son-! Panic welled up in him, and Sootstorm opened his mouth to ask questions, no, to demand answers, but with those parting words, she was gone, not a moment spared for the WindClan deputy.

He stood there, dazed and unsure of himself except for one thing: He had to get back to Stoatpaw. He had to. The tom looked around the star-lit plain in panic, but already the stars were scattering in the night sky that was now swallowing him. Wait! He couldn't die yet-!

________________

Sootstorm's body remained cold and unresponsive to Stoatpaw's voice, and it's steady rise and fall of his flanks seemed to be slowly down with each passing heartbeat. The breath that escaped him in puffs of small white mist was growing fainter, and his eyelids no longer twitched. It was as if the deputy had frozen into a statue, unmoving in it's state and haunting in strand fur.