The Stars Give Me Little Comfort (nightxdove)

[Piewonder]

Nightfoot

The sky was bright, a cloudless night, as Nightfoot slunk through the territory he called home. His black fur allowed him to move with ease, for once anxiety didn't suffocate his lungs and cause his brain to tweak with fear, as he moved about. The camp was becoming suffocating. Everyone watching...plotting...waiting for you to mess up.

A twig snapped somewhere causing the tom to crouch low to the forest floor, ears alert. His black ears strained, almost painfully, trying to pinpoint the source. Despite the calmness of his evening, Nightfoot couldn't shake the feeling of being followed. No matter how hard he tried to shove the images of Volepelt, foaming from the mouth, back in the recesses of his mind, he just couldn't do it. The fear welled inside him like an open wound, oozing into his system and causing his shoulder to twitch nervously. Sighing softly, the skittish tom shook out his pelt and muttered to himself about being a kit.

Nothing was going to happen to him. Nothing. He showed up where he was needed, kept his head down and hunted for the clan. He did what he needed to survive...if only he could say the same for FogClan. He loved his clan more than anything! Found them and they took him in with love and now it was falling apart! What did he do? Nothing. He sat back, scared of his shadow, and watched Miststar and Volepelt savage his home.

Sitting down, tail curled around his body for comfort, Nightfoot clenched his jaw and stared up at the night sky. It was so clear...Silverpelt twinkled at him kindly, promising things one could only dream of. And yet...he didn't feel the comfort. If StarClan was so kind and forgiving, then why were they allowing all of this to happen? Young cats shouldn't be treated they way they were! He was young sure, needed to learn more, be more, but he knew for a fact that forcing a kit to stay in confined walls and making Apprentices starve was wrong. Just wrong.

"If you can hear me...please...please let FogClan survive." Whispering the words, Nightfoot allowed his prayer to StarClan espace his lips as he worried someone was watching him. He feared, not having been purged yet, that he wouldn't survive Sinwounds. Then again, maybe that wasn't so bad. It didn't mean much to live in fear, and seeing as he was naturally that way, FogClan wasn't helping him.

[Glowy]

Dovepaw found herself, once again, eluding the eyes of Authority as she took her solitary walk through her territory. These walks were becoming nearly a nightly ritual now- it was odd, she thought, how often she was finding the need for solitude as of late. It was precarious doing what she was doing, though; she'd been caught twice already, and she couldn't make up some cracked story about making dirt every time. Her clan would begin to grow suspicious of her without just cause. And that was just no fun for anybody. She sucked in her breath harshly as a twig snapped, and then another, somewhere in the forest. Somebody was there. It had to be a Council member. Oh, she was going to be caught, and then she'd be Purged, and then Volepelt would be oh-so-disappointed and nothing would have the smallest semblance of being alright anymore. At least when she wasn't being hurt Dovepaw could almost convince herself that everything was okay, that nobody was being hurt, no minds shattered, no souls tortured nearly beyond recognition. Perhaps if she could turn a blind eye to the suffering, the suffering would go away. Unfortunately, life never works that way. You can't change the facts by refusing to acknowledge them. All you're doing is giving the facts more influence, by not fighting back. But what could she do? She had no power- it had been stripped from her time and time again, her ability to do anything of consequence, and so she was left completely dependent upon those in power for everything. Oh, and they executed their control over her with all the vigilance of a virus, unable to be killed and pressing on until it had done its job, leaving no cell of her body unaffected. If she tried to stand, she would simply be knocked back down again, further into the dust, and she was tired of being knocked down. She found herself shaking her head, though. Not everybody on the Council was like that. Volepelt wasn't. She didn't care a whit about the others, to be honest. Volepelt was... what was he? He wanted the best for his clan. He was hardened, but not just to the core, not yet. There was still the slightest bit of tenderness in there that almost came out at times- when he smiled at her in approval, when he praised her for a job well done. She welcomed this side of him that nobody else got to see, that nobody else knew existed. It was their secret. And she was the best at keeping secrets. If she could keep herself secret, she could keep him secret, too. The scent of a clanmate washed her senses, and she crouched low to the ground, fearing discovery above all else. Discovery would lead to punishment, which would lead to disapproval, which would lead to everything changing. Thankfully it wasn't a Council member, but she still had to be careful. You never knew where someone's loyalties lay these days. It would be best to lay low and slink back to camp before he discovered her... ... but then the breeze shifted, and blew her scent straight toward the night-furred tom. Well, that was just great. Now she would have to confront him whether she liked it or not. Yay. Happy-time. "You think StarClan honestly cares what happens to us, Nightfoot?" She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice as she addressed her clanmate, shaking her head. StarClan didn't care about anything they did, except keeping their Rules. speaking [bg=e0e0e0][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Piewonder]

Nightfoot

Nightfoot felt his body tense as his strained ears picked up movement. Fear coated his eyes as he fought the urge to turn. With his black pelt it would be near impossible to see him if they weren't looking for him. Which seemed impossible, because they were always looking! Just waiting for him to mess up and then have to cleanse him! Dear StarClan he was so certain he'd die from those wretched wounds!

As the anxiety spread in his chest, Nightfoot couldn't seem to keep a breath of air in lungs for more than two heartbeats. A small sweat started under his fur and his paw pads as he nervously licked his whiskers. Who could it be? Thrushflower? Volepelt? Oh, man...this was torture. Not being able to take it anymore, Nightfoot figured he best take his attacker head on. Better than being surprised...

For a moment, his heart stalled. It was Dovepaw. Why was she here alone? Didn't she follow in Volepelt's steps? He didn't think so...she was so...so innocent. So pure. Nightfoot didn't think she'd have it in her to turn him in. She was always nice to him. Quiet, but nice. Licking his whisker's again, the black tom's shoulder twitched in that nervous way it did.

"Oh, h-hello, Dovepaw." He looked away from the apprentice, back to the stars. "I think they try." For once Nightfoot didn't feel too locked up, and that made him nervous. Clamping his teeth on his tongue the skittish tom cleared his throat and breathed heavily through his nose. As trust worthy as she seemed, Dovepaw was still the apprentice of Volepelt. If he ever saw them talking....the tom shuddered. What if he interrogated Dovepaw about what they talked about? Then he'd ask Nightfoot and what if he messed it all up and Dovepaw got hurt because of him!

Cursing himself silently the FogClan tom mentally pulled himself together. For one night, one freakin' night, he wouldn't be so fearful. After all, in order to get better you needed to start somewhere. Clearing his throat again, Nightfoot wrapped his tail around himself and started talking. "I think StarClan can't control everything...that in i-itself would be against what they stand f-for." Clenching his jaw once or twice, Nightfoot continued to stare at the stars, annoyed with his own stutter.

[Glowy]

Dovepaw made Nightfoot nervous. As if the fact that he barely looked at her when she first appeared wasn't evidence enough, she could smell the apprehension running down his body. Why? What had she ever done to him? In fact, what had she ever done to anybody that would justify such a reaction? The only cat in her clan who could justifiably react to her presence in a negative way would be her old mentor. Then again, when was life ever just? She'd paid for her sins enough already, but the punishment kept coming from all sides. Her mind wouldn't drop it. Not a day went by that she didn't grieve for her siblings and her old mentor. Seeing her clanmates in pain was another form of punishment- she had the potential to sway Volepelt's treatment of them, but what did she do? Nothing. She was closest to him out of anybody, and what did she find herself doing? She sought his approval. She didn't want to say anything that would upset him, or cause him to be cross with her. Instead of trying to help her clan, all she did was help herself. It caused her great shame, though she knew very well that nothing could be done to help FogClan once Volepelt had made up his mind about something. Nightfoot appeared to be a bit more at ease now. Only a bit, but the difference was noticeable. His shoulders relaxed marginally, though he did clench his jaw, biting his tongue. Oh, how he reminded her of Mousenose! "Caring and being able to do something are two different things entirely," she sighed, only too aware of the truth of her words. Perhaps StarClan wanted to help, but simply could not because of some rule. Well, dash the rules! Cats were suffering. Their spirits were being torn down by claws and hateful words, while their hearts struggled to keep faintly beating to the tune of hope. "But since when do they care? If they cared,"

[/b] she paused, struggling to collect thoughts that she didn't have, "I don't know. Things would be better. Maybe if they loved us, love would rule instead of... well. You know."[/b] She shook her head, turning her face now towards the sky. The pain that filled her face no cat ought to be allowed to see. Nobody could know. She was the best at keeping secrets. Hungry for answers, her spirit cried out to the stars. If you're there, show me warmth! Show me hope! Give me something to believe in for myself.

speaking
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[Piewonder]

Nightfoot

Nightfoot shuffled uncomfortably. Dovepaw was struggling with something internal, but the skittish tom wasn't seeing the severity of it. If he looked at her, actually looked at her, maybe then he'd see what she was being tormented with.

Then she said something, something that hit a chord somewhere within him that made his amber eyes turn and look at Dovepaw's anguished face. "I think they do love us...or p-perhaps we're supposed to learn to love ourselves first." For once Nightfoot felt clear minded. Well, for once in a long time. In a very uncharacteristic manner, Nightfoot fluidly inched closer to Dovepaw and wrapped his tail around her small body. The contrast of black and white, the way his body matched hers almost looked like a feline version of yin and yang.

Nightfoot had suspicions that StarClan might not exist, but right now those thoughts were far away. Dovepaw needed something to believe in. Perhaps he could offer it. "Dovepaw, I believe StarClan can live through us. Give us strength in times of need. Maybe you're one of the few who they trust in to keep FogClan living. I don't know any other cat that could have made it this far being Volepelt's apprentice." Nightfoot swallowed nervously as he finished his small speech. Words were always formed in his head, strung together with ease, but when it came to using them...well, Nightfoot was notorious for stumbling and mumbling. However, right now, in this moment he seemed perfectly at ease; minus the twitch in his shoulder.

As much as he wanted to look at the sky, Nightfoot kept his warm gaze on Dovepaw. He could dependable. And he would be for Dovepaw. Nightfoot didn't have many friends in FogClan, not that he was hated, but he figured he could use one. Just one that he didn't have to mumble around. "Maybe...StarClan wants us to believe in ourselves before they can help."

[Glowy]

Dovepaw squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. How could they learn to love themselves if nobody loved them? How should they know what love looked like if it was not shown to them? How could she learn to love herself? She had no reason to. What had she ever done to help anybody, to deserve anybody's good opinion, much less their love? A sigh shook her shoulders. No, she couldn't be loved. She had no family, no connections, and no reason to be loved. She was just... there. "How?"

[/b] No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep her voice from cracking just a bit. She was desperate. Her world was darkening despite the brightness of the sky, as it had been doing for quite some time, and she was still powerless to stop it. It seemed that, at long last, she could no longer keep this secret. Perhaps it was because she didn't have to. Did she? Nightfoot seemed trustworthy enough, but you could never tell. "How do you learn to love yourself if nobody loves you?"

What was she doing? She shouldn't have said that. Her tongue found its place between her teeth and lower lip as she shook her head- only once. He... he shouldn't know what she thought. Nobody did, and for good reason. She kept herself locked away with a fair amount of success. Only within could she be safe from the judgment she found without.

Dovepaw pulled away slightly from Nightfoot's tail, simply from surprise rather than discomfort. Nobody ever... touched her. Brightnose had been the last cat in her clan to touch her, and even that was because she'd had to heal her. Willowpaw had touched her after that, on that fateful day they had become friends. They'd not seen one another since. It killed her.

When Nightfoot did not withdraw his touch after her start, she accepted it. It was not welcome yet, but it was accepted. Perhaps he thought better of her than she was worth and wished to give her a sense of comfort that she did not deserve. Silly tom, couldn't he see what she was? She was vile. Her soul was worthless, which made everything else, heart, mind, and body, worthless as well.

"Dovepaw, I believe StarClan can live through us. Give us strength in times of need. Maybe you're one of the few who they trust in to keep FogClan living. I don't know any other cat that could have made it this far being Volepelt's apprentice."

... well. That was certainly a new way to think about it. Instead of showing weakness by being Volepelt's apprentice, she showed strength. Any other cat... did Nightfoot really think she was special? "Maybe you're right. Maybe. But why would they trust me? I'm nothing special," she sighed, for surely a StarClan-chosen cat would be something spectacular indeed.

"I can't believe in myself, Nightfoot. Everything I do... it fails. And besides, nobody's ever believed in me." Dovepaw had no idea why she was telling all these things to a perfect stranger. Maybe it was because he was all she had right now. But did it matter so much? The information was getting out, and now Nightfoot had within his grasp the means to cripple her or to help her grow her wings. What would he do with it?

speaking
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[Piewonder]

Nightfoot[/color]

Nightfoot felt the tiniest of smiles pull at the corners of his mouth. However, this wasn't one of content or cheer, his eyes had hardened. Generally liquid, warm, Nightfoot's amber gaze was hard as stone. To listen to Dovepaw...the pain that wrapped around her...quite frankly, the black tom had enough.

"Dovepaw, if you don't believe in yourself then I can't help you. However, in the mean time, I will keep faith in you. I will believe in you until you learn you can believe in yourself." Nightfoot felt a nervous laugh boil somewhere in his belly, but kept it there. This was almost humorous. The skittish, bumbling tom of FogClan was giving speeches about believing in yourself!

Shoving the fears and worry back into the recceses of his mind, Nightfoot looked down at Dovepaw, fixating her with a serious look. "Do you know what doves symbolize?" He hoped Dovepaw would look at him. For one reason or another he felt like he needed the white she-cat to listen to him. He needed her to believe in something, maybe then he could believe in something too. They could use each other, in the least damaging sense of the term, to learn how to trust what was around them. Perhaps the night wasn't always filled with plots and darkness...Nightfoot hoped the sun was rising soon for FogClan.

"A dove is a bird of hope, life, purity and grace. Dovepaw, I don't see you falling out of the sky. You just need to stretch your wings." For once Nightfoot didn't feel alone in his Clan. There was finally someone who, he felt, was as confused as he was. For one reason or another, this gave him comfort. He wished he could be stronger on a regular basis. Sadly, Nightfoot knew, once morning came, he would be back to letting fear shroud his mind. But, this time, this time though, dawn was on the horizon.

[Glowy]

Dovepaw couldn't look at Nightfoot, not after what he'd been told. It wasn't a great deal of knowledge, granted, but it was more than anybody else in FogClan could even begin to grasp at. Volepelt could guess at the inner workings of her mind, but how could he know? Nightfoot now had a larger window into Dovepaw than anybody ever had before, with the possible exception of Mousenose. Speaking of Mousenose, the memory of him brought her great sorrow. He'd seen who she was. He'd known who she was, more so than anybody, and she still hadn't been worth enough to him to warrant him staying. He'd abandoned her. If she hadn't been important enough to him, who then would find her to be worthy of anything? Nightfoot said that he would believe in Dovepaw, but Mousenose had told her he wouldn't leave. He'd said he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. Volepelt said that if she did this and this and this, she would be saved from the consequences of her sins. Didn't he see that she was already suffering them? She could believe nobody. When had she ever been told the truth? All the things everybody told her seemed like truth for a little while, but they never were, not absolutely. Was there anything at all that was true? Could she trust in anything? Part of her said no, but there was still a part of her, despite everything, that desperately wanted there to be something that was true, something she could trust and hope in. "Do you know what doves symbolize?" "Doves? N-no. No, I don't," she murmured, glancing oh so briefly at him. Of course he would know, though. Nobody ever asked her questions like that unless they knew the answer and had hopes to enlighten her. Everybody had a different scheme for redemption and obtaining worth. Undoubtedly, Nightfoot would expect his information to provide her with a world-shaping, illuminating revelation, but so had everybody before him. What did she trust? What did she believe? "Hope? I... I remember something about hope from when I was a kittypet. It's very brief. Something about hope having wings. But if it has wings, can't it fly away?" Her brows knit together as she struggled with all the conflicting ideals that had been beaten into her. Hope was the most important thing ever, hope was worthless; hope in yourself, hope in me, hope in StarClan; everybody deserves a second chance, everybody must be punished; nobody is worthless, sinners are worthless; you are important to me, you are important to the clan above all else; your only duty is to yourself, your duty it to your clan; you don't need to repent, repent and be saved! Which voice told the truth? The dichotomy of philosophies that she had been taught constantly waged war against each other upon the tender territory of her mind. Every shot fired left a scar somewhere, every time one of the ideas gained precedence over the other, she felt the pain of the other as acutely as if it was her own. If she tried to hope in StarClan, her Self protested. What about me? Haven't I kept you safe? If she tried to judge somebody, her brain screamed at her about second chances. If she tried not to judge somebody, Volepelt's voice echoed the importance of paying for one's wrongs. "I'm... I'm so frightened, Nightfoot. Everybody is telling me something different and I don't know what to believe. Everything makes sense! How do you... how do you know what's true? How do you decide what is right and what isn't? And, if I have wings, how will they help me? Where will I fly to? I... I just-"

[/b] her voice broke off and she shrank back, terrified at her own forwardness. Never before had she dared to be so open with anybody, not even Mousenose. She supposed she hadn't needed it back then. She had been safe.

If only her parents were here. They would know what to do. They had always known what was best. Oh, why had she ever left? But she couldn't go back. That wasn't an option. She was much too invested in her new life to ever leave, and she had the scars to prove it. Sometimes she would just sit by herself and rub her face and upper neck, feeling the ridges of damaged tissue under her paw pads. Who in the human world would take a disfigured cat such as herself? No, she couldn't return only to face rejection.

"I want my parents," she whispered, shoulders shuddering with the finality of that statement. She was nothing more than a frightened little kitten. It was disgusting. She was disgusting, pathetic to the highest degree. She wanted her parents? Come on. If Nightfoot wants to believe in you, give him something stronger than I want my Mommy and Daddy to believe in! She shook her head ruefully, turning away. Maybe she should just leave. Nightfoot wouldn't want her around anymore.

She did manage to take a few tentative steps away from the night-pelted tom before she was frozen. No, she couldn't walk away. That would be weak. She turned back to look at Nightfoot, simply staring. If he wanted to come, he could. Returning would be just as weak as leaving, and so she stayed exactly where she was, whiskers quivering, shoulders heaving, soul crying out.

speaking
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[Piewonder]

Nightfoot[/color]

The sadness thickened around the black tom as Dovepaw began to lose control of that wall of hers. Nightfoot himself felt the emotion choke up on his throat and he feared he would start a panic attack. Forcing air through his nose he stared back up at the stars his tail pulling tightly around his thin body. Fly away? He didn't want her to do that. Unless of course it would help her. "You can fly anywhere you want to."

Something shifted. The air felt colder, the energy spinning out. The black tom turned his gaze toward the apprentice and all he could see was a tortured soul. One that he could relate to. One that he could be himself with. When Dovepaw stood and began to walk away, Nightfoot felt his chest grab. Feeling words push around his chest and up his throat he thought he might puke until one word choked out, "W-wait!" Before he knew it he was on his paws and took a few steps toward her. He was afraid of startling her. She was a wounded bird ready for flight and he was a broken cat ready to give up.

Then he gave a small, distorted laugh. One note, it was more of a chuckle, but it was there.

"I was going to say...you don't have to go." Taking another step forward, Nightfoot's whiskers began to twitch as his ears swiveled this way and that. The anxiety began to snake its way through his body, tormenting him. Couldn't he have one conversation! Then in all his nervousness...he let it go.

"I may not be your parents or that great of a warrior, but I know I can be a friend. I can promise to do my best in helping you...even though I'm not that good at helping myself." His throat threatened to close, but he kept going. "I don't know what is going to happen or which path to take, but I know what's in my heart. I know that I can be a friend." Nighfoot felt his body shake in small tremors as he swallowed nervously. He felt so small in the world. He felt borderline pathetic as he almost yelled his words. It wasn't out of anger, but fear.

It was always fear.

He was tired of it and truth be told, Dovepaw was too spectacular to be broken.