when the sun hits [C]

WindClan's state of affairs changed far too frequently for Larchbreeze's liking. They were the best Clan in the forest: the closest to StarClan, the strongest, the swiftest, the smartest. How could they be a bastion of good behavior for the rest of the Clans if their internal interactions slowed to a halt? The disappearances of so many of their warriors and apprentices a few moons ago had been bad enough, and the illness that swept through their ranks recently hadn't helped either, but Tigerstar suddenly among the number of the vanished was a blow. Not a blow to Larchbreeze, personally, given he'd never truly known the tom, but a blow to their Clan's pride. To have their great and immovable leader dissipate as if the wind itself had stolen him away was not easy to recover from. Rapidfire was all right, certainly, but leader material? Hadn't it only been at the tail end of newleaf that she'd been appointed? And their new deputy, Molehill, a tom so quiet that Larchbreeze had never even noticed him until the ceremony. It was all a lot to swallow.

However, he hadn't really felt the full rippling effects of Tigerstar's disappearance until he woke up the next morning to patrol with Falconpaw. His normally confident and warm apprentice, already worried sick about his friend's injuries, had done almost a complete turn from his usual personality. Red-rimmed eyes, droopy ears, a smile far too large to cover the way his shoulders slumped. And then Larchbreeze's heart plummeted hollowly all the way down to his paws. He was... a terrible mentor. How could he have forgotten? How could he not have realized what this would mean? Falconpaw's father had gone missing. Without even the closure of a corpse to bury. Looking at the desperate way that his apprentice ran across the moors, paws hitting painfully hard on the ground, brought back unpleasantly familiar memories of Rainberry's death. Memories he did not want to allow to the forefront of his mind. Why hadn't his first thoughts been of Falconpaw? Why hadn't he gone to comfort him, first thing, when he heard the news? Even now, some part of him whispered that all his hard work befriending the young tom had gone to waste without a leaderly father's praise to show for it, and that part of himself made him feel sick. All in all, he felt like a complete and utter mess this morning, and not even the gentle whisper of the early morning could soothe the churning of his stomach.

While he normally would've taken the chance to sprint after his apprentice and enjoy the wind in his fur, to show off his speed and get a good run in, today Larchbreeze found himself walking slower than usual, allowing Falconpaw some time to heave the breath out of his lungs on top of the small moor hill he stood on top of. He made no attempt to disguise the sound of his pawsteps drawing nearer, until he finally reached the apprentice. Then he sat down, staring out at the glowing horizon, scenery ablaze with warm light. Falconpaw's voice, strained and desperately cheerful, hardly reached his ears. It took a moment or two before he tore his eyes off of the empty scenery to look down at him. He blinked slowly, golden eyes the same shade as the sunrise taking in Falconpaw's face. He almost hated how easy it was to read. "Yes, I am rather slow today, aren't I?" Larchbreeze said. His face curled into a familiar grin, though it felt faraway. "Sometimes it's better to take in the scenery like this, I think. I know--odd for me to say. But as much as I love sprinting across the territory, it's all right to take slower days, too. It makes me all the faster once I feel up to running again."

He opened his mouth again, but hesitated, smile falling. Should he try to comfort Falconpaw? Say something, anything, that could be helpful? What would Nectarflower say? Perhaps it would sound insincere coming from him. He... wasn't good at this kind of thing. He hadn't been helpful to Snowvixen when her mother passed, and he certainly wasn't going to be helpful to Falconpaw. What was even the point in trying? Larchbreeze looked back out at the territory, as if the endless yellow sky could offer him some point of reference. "Well, we can go whenever you're ready. As fast or as slow as you want. Don't push yourself too hard." His insides sqirmed. He felt... like a coward. It had been awhile since the guilt, the burning shame, resurfaced. He hadn't saved Nectarflower from the dogs. So how could he be expected to save anyone from a threat he couldn't even fight? He could catch a million rabbits, he could run faster than the wind itself, but if anyone really needed him, he was useless.