Conflicting Ideals [Raven x Crow] [L1S0V0]

[nightfall]

Ravenheart was seething. Which wasn’t a thing he usually did. Ravenheart, second medicine cat of Pineclan, angry? Impossible. Yes, he got annoyed or frustrated, but never angry.

Yet, right at this very moment, he was practically trembling with rage.

Where was all of this rage about to be directed to? The small black cat trailing behind him silently, probably caught up in all of his thoughts about saving cats and being the hero. Crowflower was being an absolute idiot, and his actions were going to cause more harm than good.

The hero never wins, like in all those stories you hear as a kit. No, they get in over the head and get killed. Then everyone who was fraternizing with the hero gets killed. Then it becomes a whole chain of crap with tragedy and pain and loss.

It wasn’t worth it. Fogclan’s problems weren’t their problems. And he wasn’t going to let Crowflower drag Pineclan into it. Ravenheart stopped suddenly, feeling his anger roll over in his body, so close to breaking it made his legs weak.

“What was that bullshit, Crow?” He asked coldly. He didn’t even face the other cat. He just stared straight ahead, fully aware of the fact that if he turned around, he would probably start shouting. They were alone at the moment. The other Pineclan cats who had been at the meeting had also slipped away, but Ravenheart was sure one of them was close enough that if he started being louder than he should they would hear. He also had half a mind to grab them and snarl in their faces too.

“So? Why the meeting? Why are you doing this to us? You’re going to bring the entirety of Fogclan down on our heads, and you think you’ll be a hero for it?” He kept staring straight ahead. He couldn’t face the hopeful eyes of Pineclan’s youngest medicine cat, eyes that would be filled with the desire to put right all wrongs, and to succeed at it without and loss.

Crowflower was going to realize his mistake very soon if he kept going with this insane crusade.

[Glowy]

Two toms, black as anger, padded beside each other in silence, both seething in their own clouds of the dark emotion. Crowflower could swear he felt Ravenheart’s anger as strongly as his own- it was palpable in the air between them. What he had done to anger his friend, he could not say. He could, however, articulate exactly what Ravenheart had done to make him angry.

The meeting had broken up without coming to anything, and it was all because that insufferable tom had showed up! They’d all tried to placate him, tried to explain what the purpose was, but would he listen? NO. OF COURSE NOT. It was like he’d stuffed moss in his ears and around his heart. His anger had dissolved the whole thing. Weeks of planning had gone to waste!

“If you weren’t so blind,” he spat, “You would know exactly what that was all about.” Ravenheart was blaming him? Really? Crowflower felt the fur on his spine bristle, and his blood ran hot. His friend had missed his opportunity to play with the nice guy.

He gave a derisive snort. “Why the meeting? Some of us aren’t cowards, that’s why the meeting! Some of us cannot witness an injustice and do nothing. Did you see the state of some of the FogClanners the other day? Their bones are showing. Their bodies are riddled with untreated, septic wounds, and this is at the direction of their leadership.” How a leader could justify weakening his own clan to such a degree was something Crowflower could not begin to understand. The world, all living things in it, were meant to be treasured and cared for! Where oppression and untreated ills existed, he was inclined to believe existence itself was dysfunctional. Ravenheart was a healer. He was supposed to understand.

Why are you doing this to us?

Crowflower laughed bitterly. “Oh, so now I’m ruining life for all of PineClan by talking to cats from other clans? Ravenheart, FogClan already hates us! You heard them the other day, you saw! You were there! They are already coming down on our heads, and they won’t stop there.” The long-haired tom shivered.

“They’re itching to rip out our throats, and after that, after we’ve been made an example of, they’ll want to purify the whole forest. They think they can get away with it because they have been successful in their own clan. Somebody needs to show them that it won’t be stood for!” In his doubt, Ravenheart was mocking him. He was mocking the ideals of any self-respecting healer. Crowflower could not stand for that. He met his friend’s eyes. “Do I think I’ll be a hero? No. That’s ridiculous. What I will be is a voice, and a healing paw in the shadows, that stands up for the dignity of life. What I will not be is a coward.”

[nightfall]

Crowflower had decided to fight fire with fire, but his snarling accusations faded away when Ravenheart heard that single word.

Coward.

It was a word that made his blood freeze and his head spin. Coward. The word he had been when Jared lay thrashing on the ground, foaming at the mouth, his big brother too terrified to do anything but shriek. Coward. What Leo had called him as Heracles’ broken body slumped to the ground, eyes lifeless and unseeing. “Coward.” Leo had snarled in his face. “Little coward, back to beg forgiveness and then run away again.”

Coward. He ran. He always ran, once things looked like they were going to go wrong. He had run, more than once in Australia. Why wasn’t he running now?

He had never joined the clans because their ideals interested him. It had been on a whim, standing in front of Gingerstar, babbling about his abilities with poisons and venoms. He didn’t care for kinship, or for family. Jared had been the only family he had needed, but Jared was dead, so it didn’t matter anymore.

Why do I stay?

He stared at the passionate little cat standing his ground in front of him, and suddenly knew why.

Crowflower.

Pitch black, full of hope, happy, kind, determined…

Shit. He’s not Jared, don’t think of him as Jared!

That was why he stayed. Because Crowflower reminded him too much of Jared for him to leave. But Crowflower wasn’t Jared. Was he?

Their bones are showing. Their bodies are riddled with untreated, septic wounds… Did he actually care? He didn’t know anymore.

FogClan already hates us! Was he a part of us, truly?

His train of thought flipped his world upside down. When he opened his mouth to respond to Crowflower’s fury, no words came out. He couldn’t…

“Shit.” He swore. “Crow, I…” He faltered. He had no word to speak with. He had no fight with anymore. The anger had dissolved as quickly as it had come. Instead, it was replaced by aggravation. He spun around, facing away from the heavens, and just let it out.

“Fuck!” He wasn’t upset at Crowflower anymore. He was upset with himself, with Leo, with Jared, with Heracles. “Why am I so fucked up?”

Hero. He had never been the hero. He’d been the terrified bystander, waiting for the hero to rescue him. And the hero had. Jared saved him. Adelaide had saved him. Heracles saved him. Pineclan had saved him. Did he still owe them nothing?

Fogclan, the clan of believers who was just as quickly spit on his own beliefs as snack on a mouse. He didn’t care for them. He never had. Wounds for sins they had never committed. Did he have a right not to care? He was numb. Some, if not all of them, had less blood on their paws then he did. He had killed before, violent murder if anything.

He forced himself to breathe, shutting his eyes. In, out, in, out. Images of Leo’s lifeless body slumped right next to Heracles. A life for a life. Adelaide’s disappointed, saddened face when he told what had happened. Her quiet authority that he should leave and never come back. Leave. Never come back. You have sullied our way of life.

You have sullied the ways of the healer.

He was a healer who had killed. Everywhere he stepped, he trailed the blood of his victim. It soaked into the fur of those he treated, kit and elder alike. It marked him as a healer who should not be trusted with life. He was a life-taker. He couldn’t be a life-giver.

Could he? Could he redeem himself?

No. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t face Crowflower with what he had realized.

He had no right. No right to step in. No right to stand up to Crowflower’s determination. No right to tell on him either.

“Crowflower, I…” His voice was hoarse, still turned away from the little medicine cat, eyes still closed. “I won’t get in your way. Do what you want.”

No right. Because it was all he was. A coward.

[Glowy]

Something was wrong with Ravenheart's heart. The other tom tended to be reserved, but when he spoke he was never at a loss for words. Crowflower had never seen him begin a sentence and not finish it. Yes, something was definitely wrong. For the life of him, Crowflower could not tell what it was! That was enough to break him out of his tirade about justice, remembering that he was speaking to a living cat with a heart of his own.

He stopped walking, hoping that his friend would stop as well. If their conversation got too intense, they were both liable to trip over a root or something, since it was nearly impossible to see in this damned fog! It had not thinned since the meeting. In fact, it had gotten thicker. He had hoped that it would thin over the course of the evening. Evidently he did not understand weather. He did not understand the weather or how to have a deep, heart-to-heart conversation while walking at the same time.

“I don’t think you’re… whatever you said. I actually don’t know what it means, but it sounded like you were insulting yourself, which is something you should never do,” Crowflower mewed. “I was upset, and I’m sorry for what I said, if that’s what made you think you’re forked or whatever it was.”

There was a long silence. Ravenheart seemed lost in thought, or stricken by shock. Flowers, why do I always get the ones who shut down?

Crowflower observed from the distance that Ravenheart set up between them, wishing for all the world that he could bridge that distance and find out what was affecting him so much that he had to concentrate just to breathe. It had been easy with Bluefur. It had been easy with his mother, with Juncopaw. They had welcomed his help. Ravenheart had always somehow kept Crowflower at a distance, despite the fact that they slept in the same den with a mere two other cats. Despite this, Crowflower did consider him a friend.

He had wanted to ask Ravenheart along, actually. He had wanted his approval. His hope was that Ravenheart would share this passion, and they could be partners in countering crime! If they both worked together, they could keep it secret. He hadn’t gotten the opportunity to ask him, though, and how it was too late. It was much too late, and Crowflower was grieved over the missed opportunity. He was grieved, angry, and concerned in the same breath.

He could not easily let go of the fact that Ravenheart had lashed out at him, like he was planning on doing something wrong. When could healing ever be wrong? Crowflower did understand the implications of his allies’ actions being found out, but they had each counted up the cost and determined it to be more than worth it. That Ravenheart had not done so was disappointing, so he left his anger there.

“I… thank you, Ravenheart,” he replied, genuinely surprised. Given the violence of his reaction, Crowflower had expected some resistance from his friend, at the least! It was not enough to take away his anger, but it was something. Crowflower stewed for a moment, trying to fight through his feelings of anger and compassion. To have them directed toward the same subject was something he had not encountered before.

“I was hoping that you would actually work with me on this. There wasn’t a good time to ask before, and now you know what’s going on…” he trailed off. “You’re a good tom, Ravenheart, and I really wish I would have gotten over my stupid excuses earlier and just been honest with you. If you’re interested, there’s a place for you with us.”