setting fire to the memories [flyaway]

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The sun had only barely peeked over the horizon, casting a bright glow onto the dark forests of Shadowclan. Most of the camp was still stuck inside of their dens, many of which were in a deep, comforting slumber. Alas, sleep had not come for the deputy. He had in fact laid awake for much of the night for his mind has become the battleground of his memories, yet again. He had once been a damaged soul, many were sure that his ambitions would corrupt him in the end. Thankfully, he had developed a friendship with the resident Shadowclan queen, Ashcloud. The crippled she-cat had somehow managed to remove that dark storm cloud that had been hovering over the tom's head for moons. Yet, when Pinestep had confessed his love for the queen, she had turned him away. Could she not see that his love was genuine? That he loved her for her, and only her?

He had been wallowing in regret for weeks, desperately trying to figure out what he had done wrong. Pinestep had changed for her, she was his purpose in life, and gave him the motivation to serve his clan better than anyone else. Ashcloud rejected him though. Why? Had he done something wrong? Maybe the feeling wasn't mutual after all. Sitting up in his nest, he looked at the sleeping bodies of his clanmates, his fellow warriors. Anyone of them could have been chosen as deputy, yet Froststar had chosen him. In the beginning, he had planned to overthrow the white she-cat, but Ashcloud caused him to purify himself. He was not going to spill the blood of another cat, especially not for any selfish reasons of his own.

That was when he realized something. It was newleaf yet again, and the trees were sprouting fresh new leaves, and prey were beginning to appear from their burrows. This was the season in which his sister, Pebblekit, had died. The season in which he had murdered his only sister. He still felt regret for doing such a thing, but perhaps his sister would be able to forgive him in the afterlife, just maybe. Getting to his paws, he padded out of the warrior's den, passing the nursery and then leaving the camp entirely. He left his heart back the nursery, for no matter what Ashcloud would say to him, he'd always love her.

The large tom moved at a steady pace through the woods, anxious mice darted in his path, yet he wasn't hunting today. No, he was doing something quite different. Deep green eyes darted back and forth as he tried to recognize the place, and spotting a bush full of thistles, he realized that he had found it. Bracing himself for the pain of the sharp thorns, he pushed his way through the bush, leaving small pieces of fur here and there, but he soon made it to the other side.

It was where the clan often buried their fallen, and he remembered all too well where his little sister had been buried. Spotting a small mound covered in dead leaves and branches, he approached it and sat down a little ways off. "Pebblekit." He murmured softly, before gazing at the two mounds close by, the location of his mother and father's bodies. If the tom could cry, he most certainty would have. Wrapping his fluffy tail around his paws, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to reminisce, wishing that he'd never had laid a single claw on his sister.

What would life be like, if he had never wronged his family?

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The little family had crowded into the Nursery – Cinderleg and Hemlockfoot, Ashcloud with Ternkit and Yarrowkit, and beaming Willowbranch at the center. Willowbranch dodged questions, laughed her tinkling laugh. Ashcloud could see the heat and pleasure in her sister’s cheeks, the utter joy and happiness. There was so much love in the little den, so many hopes and dreams. And for some reason, she just couldn’t take it anymore. Willowbranch had grown close to an older senior tom warrior. Their mother Cinderleg had had a keen eye on the pair, and had finally chosen a time to pounce on her elder daughter. And now they were gathered, Willowbranch happily confirming rumors of their slow courtship. Hemlockfoot and Cinderleg where all but twittering, stars in their eyes at the thought of grandchildren that were all but certain to come. And something in Ashcloud had cracked, had splintered apart. She’d excused herself, left Ternkit and Yarrowkit in her mother’s capable paws. She’d slipped away. And truly, she felt nothing but joy for Willowbranch, pride and hopeful expectation. Yet along with all that joy, there was an unnamable grief, the reminder that it would never be her in such a position – waiting for her stomach to swell with life, happily amidst a sure courtship.

Her tail vanished silently through the camp entrance. It had been weeks since she had ventured outside of the camp alone. At times she would accompany Briarleaf or Thistlepaw, assist them in gathering herbs nearby. But for the most part, she stayed safely inside the camp. Today, however, she wandered far. She listed with each step. It was slow progress, but steady. She had grown stronger – greatly she knew in due to Pinestep, to his influence, his insistence of her worth. She pushed thoughts of him away, of his toothy smile and the way he looked at her. She insisted it was Willowbranch, her sister’s joy, that had dredged up unwanted thoughts of the tom who claimed to love her. Her ears flicked back against her head. Her chin tilted down, her eyes fluttered half-closed. Her tail flicked back and forth against her legs. Almost unthinkingly, she found herself turning in the direction of the clan burial grounds. She had no right to mourn. In a sense, she had nothing to grieve for. She, and those she held dear, lived their mortal lives. Yet not everything she loved and held dear had survived this brutal life.

She pushed through the bushes, approaching a cluster of tiny mounds. These were lives that had barely begun, stolen away before they could be truly experienced. Some had been stolen minutes after birth, some days. Yet each and every one, in a way, had been her own. The kittens of the Nursery were the only children Ashcloud would ever have, could ever have. And she mourned them as her loss, her dearest loss. She sat heavily, lowering herself to the ground and curling around herself. Far away, her sister rejoiced in a life that would soon stir, while Ashcloud was left in the deaths she mourned. Her ears perked suddenly, a voice floating to her. Her stomach dropped, far away. She knew the voice, the blessed scent. It echoed in her mind, mingling with memories she had shoved away. Pinestep. Yet she didn’t say a word. Her lips remained mutely sown shut. She couldn’t find it in herself, couldn’t find the appropriate words to greet him, to make right what had so suddenly gone wrong. Greed, the sin echoed in her thoughts.

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[Rendezvous]

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A large paw reached out and prodded Pebblekit's grave. "Sister, I pray that you may someday forgive me in Starclan. I will accept whatever judgement our ancestors pass over me." The young gray kit had never gotten a chance at life and she had never experienced the beauty of being a clan cat, a warrior. She was forever frozen in kit-form, and the reasons for her death still weighed down on the tom's shoulders from time to time. "I don't know if you can hear me.." The deputy bowed his head, closing his eyes tight. "I'm so sorry. If I could turn back time, if I could just change my actions...prevent that day from happening..you'd still be here..you'd be a warrior..alive..breathing.." One didn't have to know Pinestep to know that his words were genuine.

Before he could reminisce on the better parts of his past, a familiar scent flooded his nostrils. Opening his eyes he looked around before his gaze landed on her. She was as beautiful as always, with her soft gray fur, her golden eyes, the tom's heart would always skip a beat when he laid eyes on the queen. At first he didn't have any words to say, for the last time they had spoken to one another, it didn't turn out to well. He still couldn't over the fact that the she-cat had rejected him. Even with that, he still cared for her, brought her prey when necessary, peeked into the nursery occasionally at nights, just to make sure that this wasn't a dream and she would be gone by sunhigh.

Realizing that he had been staring at the she-cat without saying a word, he finally opened his mouth to speak. "Ashcloud, what are you doing here?" Even in his voice, it was obvious that there was a deep affection laced within those words, but would Ashcloud even acknowledge that? Looking to his sister's grave, he spoke up softly. "I'm guessing you heard all of that." Surprisingly he wasn't embarassed, nor was he angry. When you were in love, one sometimes found it hard to pick a fight with the significant other. "I was just visiting Pebblekit, I come here quite often actually." He preferred if no other cats knew that he visited his sister's grave, they'd think of him as weak.

He couldn't look at Ashcloud for too long, which is why his gaze remained fixed on the dirt mound. The tom's heart ached, he wanted to be able to bury his face in the she-cat's fur, to simply bask in all of her perfection. Yet he wasn't wanted, and that broke his heart, and he couldn't even pick up the pieces, as they continued to poke and prod him, giving birth to nightmares and restless nights. "How..how have you been?" The tabby asked quietly, still wishing he could be closer to the she-cat and not on the edge of despair.

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He was like a drug, more powerful than the heady alluring scent of catmint. Her eyes fluttered closed, taking a moment to drink him in. She knew, to an extent, that she could no longer depend on her senses – on her wit and logic. She drew in deep breaths. She couldn’t clear his scent away, couldn’t escape him. But she had to remain strong. An image of Willowbranch floated into her mind, her sister glowing with life and hope – images of kittens and families to come. But that was Willow’s dream, Willow’s future, not Ashcloud’s. A calm washed over her. She had resigned herself, she had to resign herself. Her eyes fluttered back open, some measure of control in their golden depths. Moons ago, almost a lifetime away, another warrior had stolen that future from her. A twinge surged up her paw, a constant reminder of what Alderthorn had taken from her. She could still hear the snapping of her own bones, the screeches – some her own and some belonging to others – echoing in her ears. That day, her future had altered. Perhaps, in another life, it could have been different. She could have faced Pinestep, received her mother’s joy and hope. She could have loved him. But that was not this life.

She rose slowly, carefully, onto all fours. Her twisted paw was cradled against her chest, more out of habit than any sort of necessity. She had long since adjusted to her lilting method of movement. While the stares she received made her duck her head, hang and scuttle away from view, she no longer resented her body. Her eyes flitted back open, landing on Pinestep’s handsome face. That moment, the first moment of visual connection, always stole her breath away. He was magnificent, broad-shouldered and strong, vivid tabby stripes, dark eyes that made her legs threaten to buckle beneath her once more. “Pinestep,” His name always came out on a breath, no matter how hard she attempted to keep her voice even. She recovered quickly, stammering slightly as she flicked her tail to indicate the tiny burial mounds. “Same as you, mourning those we have lost.” She paused, clearing her throat. “The Nursery was overcrowded.” She didn’t mention Willowbranch. She looked away from him. But his gaze was steady on her. It made her fur prickle. And here, amidst all this grief, she wished for nothing more than to bury herself in him, to lose herself in his warm embrace and promises of love. And for a brief moment, a single brief moment, quiet timid Ashcloud was overcome with fury – an angry desire for vengeance – vengeance on the one who had stolen everything from her, stolen Pinestep away. Look, Alderthorn, look what you have done to me. After all, it was him who had stolen this future, altered her pathway. She raised her eyes slowly, daring herself to meet Pinestep’s gaze.

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[Rendezvous]

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Did the queen even understand what he went through each and every day? He didn't want to appear selfish, but he felt as if the grey she-cat was only concerned about herself. The tom had wanted to help her, to guide her if need be. But she didn't want his help. She didn't want anything from him, although even though he had been rejected, he still waited. Hoping that maybe one day, she would change her mind and they would again be able to sit next to one another on a moonlit night. "How's Ternkit?" He asked softly. The little black and white tom had wiggled his way into Pinestep's heart. Unfortunately, due to the young kit's mental disabilities he would have to wait a little longer before he'd be able to join his sister in the apprentice den.

Pinestep wanted to be the one to mentor Ternkit. In the beginning, he had wanted to mentor him and mold him just like he had done Cedarstorm. But now he only wanted to help the kit become a successful warrior. One should never let their mind be an obstacle to their own goals. Perhaps he should have a word with Froststar about her plans for Ternkit, he was her son after all. Hearing that the nursery was overcrowded, he stopped himself from saying, you could have been a queen with your own kits just like everyone else. What was Ashcloud afraid of? Pinestep wished he knew, or at least had some kind of hint that would give him a good guess as to why the queen was like this. It couldn't simply be just about her mangled paw.

Flicking his ears he got to his paws, casting one last glance towards Pebblekit's grave before turning away. "You must have some hope still, Ashcloud. For kits of your own, I mean. If you didn't, you wouldn't be caring for the kits of other queens, you would have given up on yourself entirely. There's still hope in your heart." He meowed, his tone serious. Green eyes watched the gray cat carefully, wondering if he would get angry at her words. "I had told you that I loved you, and I still do. You had rejected me, but you know what? I will still wait for you." The tom had been holding his feelings in for far too long, and now was better than never.

Swallowing his pride he meowed softly. "I could give you a family. We could be a family and have our very own children to love. We could be happy. You know very well that neither of us is happy. If I was lying, I wouldn't sound as confident as I do now." Releasing a sigh, the tom padded closer to she-cat, his eyes almost pleading. This was his last chance to try to fix everything. If she rejected him yet again, he didn't know what he would do.

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The blood was rushing, pounding in her ears. Everything seemed too loud, overwhelming. It threatened to drown her, to sweep her away. She was desperately clawing, searching for anything to cling to. But it was as if the world was made of mist, of little wisps of air and wet dirt. It dissolved beneath her, became uprooted under her desperate paws. She would be gone, carried away. And she feared, more than anything else, her own quiet resignation. She almost welcomed the opportunity to give up. She was so tired, so utterly exhausted, emotionally numb. Looking up at Pinestep, hearing his sudden words echoing in her ears, she was letting herself drown. She refused to swim any longer, to keep going as she had. She was staring at Pinestep, mutely taking what she couldn’t identify – something between a lecture, fury and a plea. And something in her snapped. A decision was made. It was sink or swim, figuratively at least. And perhaps, little by little, she had been sinking for moons. She’d been letting the water fill her lungs, simply too tired to bother to breath. But today, staring at Pinestep, standing over graves that represented both their mutual grief – and the baggage they carried – Ashcloud decided to swim.

“I love you!” She screamed it in the silence, her voice a high wail. She couldn’t stop now, no matter the reaction. Everything was bubbling over – she was forcing the water from her lungs. “I love you every minute of every day. But what you don’t understand is I did give up! I was told again and again that I would be lucky to walk again, that I would never hunt or run – that I would never be useful.” She hadn’t moved. She couldn’t exactly pace back and forth, or make a dramatic entrance. She simply wasn’t physically capable. So she stayed where she was, stood in place. But there was a power behind her, in her language, in every word. She was breathing heavily, more from her sudden spike in emotion than any sort of physical exertion.

And as quickly as it had come, the fight drained out of her. Her shoulders sagged and her head drooped. She shook her head, her ears flicking slightly. Every bone was weighed down, as if she would sink right into the ground, never rise again. The shrill scream had left her voice, replaced by her usual low murmur. “I never rejected you, never wanted to lose you. I just couldn’t keep you.” She raised her head. In that brief moment, between her words and his, he had begun to speak again.

I could give you a family. We could be a family and have our very own children to love.

She let out a gasp, lifting her head. Her eyes shone. She was searching him, a renewed desperation in her gaze. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t truly understand. She was shaking her head, not in rejection but rather in disbelief. She opened and closed her mouth mutely. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t say a word.



OOC: sorry for weird jumpy post

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[Rendezvous]

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The silence was deafening. During the long duration of quiet, he tom feared that he had said the wrong thing yet again. Pinestep imagined the worst possible scenario. The queen would hobble away, muttering dark remarks as she headed back towards camp. But that dreadful moment never came. He watched the she-cat watch him, and without warning she blurted out the words that he had been waiting to hear for moons. His eyes widened in surprise at her sudden outburst, he couldn't even get a word in while the she-cat rambled on and on.

His heart pounded in his chest although he refrained from running to the she-cat and burying his head in her fur. She loved him. "Ashcloud, I've waited so long to hear those words." He murmured softly as he got to his paws and padded towards the grey queen. For awhile, Pinestep thought that he would never even hear those words come out of the she-cat's muzzle. "There was never anything wrong with you. And you never gave up, if you did you wouldn't be caring for the kits in the nursery, nor would you have said that you love me." Was it only Pinestep that didn't see Ashcloud for just her mangled paw? Underneath that protected exterior, he saw a beautiful, talented young cat, who had tons of potential. Even in his ambitious stage, he still didn't think that Ashcloud was useless, and whoever told her that surely needed to be skinned.

The tom approached the she-cat and buried his head into her fur, happy that he could finally be this close to her again. The wait had been difficult, but he didn't mind, it was all worth it in the in. Aside from his clan, he lived for Ashcloud, she was his motivation, his light at the end of the tunnel. She meant so much to him, yet now she was just understanding.

Backing away, he noticed the look of disbelief that had washed over the queen's face. Had he said something wrong? "What's the matter?" He asked, sounding quite concerned. Then he remembered what he had said about family. "You don't believe me, Ashcloud?" He wasn't angry, maybe a bit confused. When he had began to focus on the queen and lose his ambitious streak, he had occasionally thought of having a family of his own. The only 'family' that he had was his brother, who due to his own interference, had caused him to become a monster. Pinestep wanted to start over and have a normal family that wasn't plagued by betrayal and secrets. He wanted to be happy, and the only way for that wish to be granted was for Ashcloud to become a part of that dream. He didn't want any other she-cat in his life, except for the grey queen. "We could be happy, together. Wouldn't you want that?" He asked as he wrapped his tail around his paws, his eyes looking into Ashcloud's. He could almost imagine what it would be like in the future. Ashcloud could be a mother, and Pinestep a father, and there would be tiny kits bounding around their paws, a mixture of the two cats. It wasn't an easy life in the clans, but at least you got a chance to pursue happiness.

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She had done it, had expelled the water from her lungs. But that didn’t stop the waves from crashing over her head, from threatening to pull her back under. She feared any moment that she would be caught in a current of her own mistakes, of crushed hopes and second-guesses. She may not have a drop of Riverclan blood in her veins, but she knew of the dangers of the water. It was darkest at its depths for a reason. She would not be the first to drown, not even in a sea made simply of her own terror and misgivings. It was a crushing force. She’d seen others struggle under it, under the weight and pressure. Some managed to make it, step by excruciating step, for moons – years even. But others fell, they screamed for air and collapsed. Others went quietly, in a sleep no Medicine Cat could explain. For what healer would speak that horrible truth, that a broken heart, a broken spirit, had stolen a life? And Ashcloud had reached that brink. She was on the edge of a precipice, a border into two haunting territories claimed by no clan. A single step one way would perhaps bring her death, either mortal or spiritual.

Yet a single step the other, well who knew what lay beyond? Ashcloud was staring somewhat vacantly, her eyes glued to Pinestep with a pleading look – as if she believed he could pull her from the water. She was barely comprehending his words. They contradicted everything she had come to believe, her entire self-image, her entire understanding of her world. She saw him approach, as if watching from outside her body. And at his touch, his light brush, Ashcloud broke. She surged forward, burying herself in Pinestep’s chest. She drank in his scent, her shaking breath on his neck. She needed his embrace, to be lost in him. Everything he was saying, everything he was offering. She had long ago given up on those frail dreams. And now they were offered to her once again. Slowly her breathing evened, a hopeful smile spread over her lips, though her face was still buried in him. This was her answer, her choice. A part of her didn’t care if a litter ever came, if her stomach ever swelled with life. She turned her head, her eyes fluttering closed. She feared to move away from him, to part from him. What words could ever answer him? She was his, now and forever. She wanted nothing but to be his future, to curl beside him every night until a morning dawned that she did not wake. But it seemed inadequate. She drew a breath, a sigh of utter satisfaction. The tension left her limbs, as if she would sag against him in relief. “I’ll never leave you.” And that was the best she could do, those quiet murmured words. For all sense of language had fled her. She rubbed her head against him, lost in him. And she realized, somewhere in the back of her mind, that he had done it. He’d pulled her from those drowning depths.

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