[S2] Hazy without the mist [VolexReed]

[Rolo]

Volepelt awoke. For a brief moment, he felt as if a delicious warmth was bathing his soul. He was in a pure clan, with his leader beside him, pure of sin and filled with purpose. Life was good. Very good. Deliriously good. It made him want to purr. Purr for eternity, praise Starclan for all that was good. But then, as he turned to look at his beloved Miststar, this illusion, this Starclan on earth... it dissolved before his eyes. She wasn't there. It was sunlight, not her pelt, that warmed him. Her limbs were not entwined in his, they were not there. The soft curves of her physique were not there. Her eyes, glistening and blue, they didn't look at her, or anywhere. They were not there. They didn't even exist. No, all that was there was the midday sun. Volepelt wondered whether it was worth getting up. Whether it was worth stretching his limbs, ambling out of the den to see how the clan he now owned was holding up. She was gone, after all. He might as well be too. But then he sat up, as he always did, and looked for the mouse he had not eaten last night. An apprentice always dropped one off at the entrance to the den at sundown. Although Volepelt felt like every desire under the sun should no longer exist, for his desire to live for himself had gone, he was still alive. He felt hungry and thirsty, as every cat did. Gulping down the mouse, Volepelt's hazy mind began to clear. Soon, with energy running through his veins, he began to feel somewhat like the old being he had been. Not quite, but nearly. He remembered all the duties he had failed to do yesterday, all the information he needed to keep in mind when talking to his council today. Frostpaw was getting worse. Otterclaw was nearly as bad. There were no kits in the nursery. The prey was beginning to return but the fresh kill pile had stayed the same size, some cats had been slacking off... Burying his mind in his work, he managed to focus again. If he shut off the worries he had for his own life and thought only of his clan, it seemed he was able to live. He had to remember that Starclan favoured him now, just as much as Miststar, and they would purify him directly. He didn't need Miststar to control him anymore. He was the one who had to be in control. He was the one who would lead the clan to salvation, he had to be in control. So, he decided, he'd do his duty to Starclan and stop his idolness. Walking to the entrance to his den, he peered out. Most of the clearing was empty, although it was midday and the usual sharing tongues time, probably because his clanmates were out doing constructive things. Only the usual suspects, the apprentices who always shirked duty, and a few council members remained in Camp. He felt a pang of satisfaction. Miststar would be proud to see her clan being so useful. Speaking

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[Pyro]

Miststar was gone.
The pillar of cleansing and purity that FogClan had been so lucky to play host to, was gone.

The whole thing seemed almost unreal. One day she was there, the next day Volepelt was informing the clan that...she wasn't. Admittedly, Reedfoot was quick to suspect foul play, but one week under Volepelt's reign had changed that. His level of purity and StarClan-focused leadership was nearly as good as Miststar's...and he was courteous enough to deny himself the title of 'Volestar', in hope of Miststar's return. He was a caretaker. Reedfoot saw that now. His was not a permanent rank, and any day now Miststar would return, laden with new instructions from StarClan for the chosen clan.

Until that day, the clan was definitely left it capable paws.

Volepelt's regime was just as strict as his leader's, if not stricter, and that was for the best. Sinners never took a break from their insufferable lies and taint, and needed constant discipline and watching. Reedfoot, as a council member, made sure that those sinners received no leeway for the spread of their filth, though she went about it in a way that differed from many council members. Her's was the mother's touch. The ever watchful matron seemingly with eyes at the back of her head. She always seemed to be there just when her clanmates were about to sin, and just as well: the best way to kill a weed is to smash it before it can grow. And smash them she did.

With the exception of two very gnarly, nasty, despicable weeds: Otterclaw and Frostpaw. The two were a constant thorn in her side, and her patience with them had long worn out. The apprentice was beyond help, she was sure, which was bad enough without her seeming to feel the need to drag others down with her. And Otterclaw? The knowledge that her own brother was one of the worst sinners in the clan was almost too much to bear. Daily, she feared that his taint would reflect upon her in Volepelt's eyes. If it did, she wasn't quite sure if she'd be able to continue life in FogClan. Surely, if Volepelt thought that Otterclaw's sin tainted her as his sister, then Miststar did. And if Miststar, FogClan's savior, was of that opinion, then what else was there for Reedfoot to do but remove herself from the clan? Unlike her brother, she was not so selfish as to continue to infect FogClan with sin. But hopefully, her own actions as a council member were enough to persuade both Miststar and Volepelt otherwise.

And speaking of Volepelt, there was the stand-in leader now. Reedfoot jumped a little at his sudden appearance. so lost had she been in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed him emerging from his den. The she-cat mentally bashed herself for drifting off. She was a council member. Such things were hardly tolerable...Maybe Otterlcaw was beginning to have an effect on her...No. There was no way she would let that happen. And to remedy it, she would go straight to Volepelt.

Rising, she walked over to him, her steps purposeful and her eyes determined. "StarClan bless you wherever you may walk," she greeted. The she-cat bowed her head before him, her eyes locked on the ground. "I have sinned. I have allowed my own selfish thoughts to entrance and keep me idle this sunhigh." Her head seemed to bow lower as she continued, "Please, cleanse me of my sin so that I may serve StarClan with a pure heart. They and my clan deserve nothing less than my full attention."

[Rolo]

Volepelt saw Reedfoot approaching him almost immediately. No sooner had he exited the den before she'd caught sight of him and begun to move over to him. Volepelt readied himself for a report of bad behaviour. Reedfoot was almost constantly feeding him streams of information about the rebels in the clan, most of all Otterclaw, her own brother. Despite her gender, she was very nearly the perfect follower, with all the elements that made up a perfect council member. She seemed to be endlessly motivated, and had adapted seamlessly to the new regime. Volepelt could rely on her to get the job done, no matter what other clan members did. She greeted him as a leader, with utmost respect and with an averted gaze. However, instead of a report, she pleaded him to cleanse her of a percieved sin. Even Volepelt had to wonder whether she'd created a sin out of thin air, considering how miniscule the offence was. Nevertheless, as leader it was his responsiblity to punish her for her and ensure her soul was not inflicted with a speck of darkness. "Fear not, Reedfoot. I will clean your soul, and then think no more of it." He said softly. Then, with no further ado, he raised a paw and swiped her right shoulder, leaving a small, shallow gash. A minor wound for a minor sin. Now her mind could rest. Suddenly, with a compulsion as strong as any natural urge, Volepelt wished desperately that she could do the same for him. That she could inflict a wound upon him which stung and made his blood run freely, bringing with it the reality he'd always known. To control him, tell him what to do. But that was impossible now. He was leader, he was the one in control. He didn't allow himself to think on it any longer. "So, Reedfoot, how are you keeping? I trust you have kept your thoughts on task these past moons, even in the absence of our dear leader." Normally, he did not enjoy small talk, but any kind of distraction from this dreadful, desperate want to see his own blood would be good. Speaking

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[Pyro]

Reedfoot flinched--but only slightly--at the pain caused from Volepelt's swipe. It was infinitesimal compared to the pain she might have felt if she let herself continue on the same road as Otterclaw. The sin in of itself might have been small, but a sin was a sin. To allow one to slide would be the gateway to allowing more sinful behavior. Such things had to be nipped in the butt early to avoid a more advanced fall into taint...even if it was a council member in question. A smile graced the tabby she-cat's face. She was no Otterclaw. And she never would be. It seemed as though she was distancing herself from her brother more and more everyday. She wished that that wasn't way the way it had to be...that her brother could revel in the joys of StarClan's light just as she did. But every attempt she had made at making this dream a reality had failed, utterly and miserably. Further effort was just setting herself up for disappointment, and if anything, she no longer felt the need to help along a soul who had turned his back on StarClan indefinitely. How could she help someone who could not even make the slightest effort to help themself. It was like fighting a losing battle, and Reedfoot did not like to lose. Better to choose not to win. A tom so seeped in sin was not worth her time nor sanity. "So, Reedfoot, how are you keeping? I trust you have kept your thoughts on task these past moons, even in the absence of our dear leader." "Even with the regretful absence of our savior I have tried to serve StarClan with my every breath. I am confident that our clan will soon reach its height, and hopefully the other clans will follow in its stead. Although...I cannot help but think that PineClan will remain as loathsomely blasphemous as ever." But how had she been keeping? She did not allow herself much time for 'fun', which namely consisted of little hunting outings with Rowanheart (he agreed that it was in the clan's benefit to mix business with pleasure)...preferring not to have distractions from her daily duties. It was a been trying, not allowing herself any rest that is. But it would be worth it in the end to see her clan rise to greatness as it should. "And what of you, Volepelt? I imagine it must be hard to take on the mantle you have and so suddenly too...I admire you for not collapsing under the responsibility, and I'm sure our clan is thankful for it as well." Speaking [bg=babc9e][atrb=width,467,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

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[Rolo]

Volepelt nodded his head slowly in agreement as the she-cat talked about how the clan had adapted to the regime, and was beginning to irradicate all elements of taint. Her comment about how they would soon reach their peak made him purr. Yes, he hoped so. He could only live in a clan where control and rule reigned, after all, Owlstar's leadership had sent him half mad. "Yes, Starclan permitting, let us hope this clan rises to a place of such purity that we are but one step away from being Starclanners on earth." He purred, sounding almost at ease, "But I shall hope that we don't peak, because once you peak, the only way is down. Let us continue to climb to such heights, that we can no longer see the ground we once toiled on." He nodded again at her statement about Pineclan. She was right, he could not see those filthy beings ever earning their place in Starclan, but it didn't bother him. After all, he felt no guilt about their demise and damnation to the Dark Forest. He cared only about Fogclan. "Don't worry yourself with Pineclan." He murmurred warmly, "There are but a few places set aside for worthy cats to take, after all. And it is not our responsibility to help them take them." He was feeling comfortable with this conversation. It was such an easy topic, one ingrained into him from birth. It was functional and, to a point, philosophical, with no room for small talk. But then Reedfoot turned the conversation around, and she asked him how he felt. Volepelt wasn't used to being asked that, to say the least. Personal feelings didn't even come into the equation in his old clan, to act based upon them or ask another about them was taboo. Part of him wanted to scold her for being willy enough, as a female, to ask him that, especially when he was her superior. But then... he didn't want to do that. He wasn't sure why, but he felt he'd rather answer it. Indulge himself. For a moment, he was torn. Should he risk falling into sin by focusing upon matters that did not aid his clan, possibly lowering her opinion of him in the process, to satisfy his own selfish needs, or should he place duty above all else? He felt almost like Root again, the apprentice unable to remember his warrior code and seeking that feeling of warmth that always seemed to evade him. Miststar... Miststar... tell me what to do, Miststar! "I've been..." He started, looking round to check no other cats were in the immediate vicinity. He then lowered his voice more. "It's been difficult. Miststar was such a worthy leader, and I am but a shadow compared to her. I remain strong with Starclan's guidance... but..." He shook his head. No. No doubts. He wasn't allowed doubts. Doubts do not exist. "but I am but a cat, and I am not Starclan's chosen." This was why cats should not indulge their emotions. Emotions had not made him stronger, they had weakened him. And now, he realised, Root was reappearing. Speaking

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[Pyro]

Reedfoot smiled and nodded at his remark of how he hoped they continued to climb rather than reach their peak. Very sage. The joy was in the climb, after all: the seemingly endless rise. And it was certainly true that once one reached the top of a mountain, it was not long before they had to make the journey to the bottom. Perhaps that was why there were still sinners in FogClan. The tainted ones had already reached the peak of their purity, and were now slowly descending to the unholy bottom. Volepelt's comment on the matter of PineClan however, did not receive a smile, but rather an eyebrow raise of surprise from the she-cat. Forget PineClan? She had always thought that it was Miststar's hope to convert them, or else eradicate them...and it was slightly unsettling to hear that Volepelt was making the choice to ignore such a large pit of sin in the forest. Especially when at any time they could decide to stretch the influence of their taint. The most recent addition to PineClan had already tried to make trouble with a FogClanner, Firestorm of all cats...and if she had heard the story correctly when it had been told to her, Gingerstar hadn't even batted an eyelash. Such actions were only one of the many sins the non-believing clan had committed since its founding, and in her mind could not go unpunished. Still, Volepelt was standing in for Miststar, and only StarClan knew when the chosen one would return to guide them once more. Or even if she would. "If you think that is the best course of action when dealing with the infidels across the border, than I shall support you. But I must warn you that I do not think they can be ignored forever." A long silence followed, and Volepelt said something that was infinitely more surprising...shocking even...than the notion that they should ignore PineClan. Her leader, the last thing standing between FogClan and a returning to the old ways of ignorance and sin that had been supported by the traitor Owlstar, was admitting his own uncertainty it would seem. It was good to be reassured that he did not think of himself as a replacement for the savior...but she thought she saw a flicker of doubt behind his veiled eyes. She knew that she should not criticize her leader too harshly, as to do so would be quite out of bounds...but he was supposed to be strong. He wasn't supposed to cast all doubts tot he wind and remain strong for his clan, so that might uphold their honor and purity until Miststar's return. And yet...admitting that he was indeed, just a cat...to Reedfoot, it did indeed seem to bring him down a bit. He was not StarClan's chosen. And behind his usual coldness there was a cat in there. Reedfoot could not help a slight twinge of motherliness: that desire to stand by a cat's side and help them through whatever troubled them. "You may not be StarClan's chosen. But she chose you, I am sure, because she was confident that you could aid her in the cleansing of our clan. And now she has chosen you again to uphold our honor while she does the duty of StarClan. You must stay strong, no matter what the difficulties." Speaking [bg=babc9e][atrb=width,467,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Rolo]

((Content warning: Very minor sex reference within.)) Volepelt watched Reedfoot's expression change, and almost immediately a surge of anger, breaking him out of his emotive streak. He could see the sceptical look in her eyes when he had spoken about Pineclan, and then the utterance that 'He could not ignore them forever'. Who did this cat think she was? A female, no less? Giving him advice on how to deal with the delicate political situation Fogclan was now facing? It made his blood boil. She had no right to do that. None at all. Had any female mumbled anything near to that veiled criticism in his old clan, Truth, his old leader, would have both giving her a proper telling off and a sin-wound for her impertinence. Volepelt looked at her, eyes hard, "I apologise. I took your remark about Pineclan to be a typical emotional female remark. I believed you were worrying about their lost souls like a mother fretting about their naughty kit, not that you were concerning yourself with political matters. I merely meant that you should not worry about Pineclan, for thinking about them is not your responsibility. Your task is different. It is your honour to nurture the next generation of Fogclanners, in whatever way you can. It is not your job not to fret about or deal with other clan matters." He wondered for a moment how he could have let his trite emotions overcome his sense of reason. Truth had been right, of course. Females should not be allowed to rise to the level of Toms, let alone above, and it was the male's responsibility to keep them in their place. He would not make the same mistake again. Unless, of course, he was in a den with a female, when all toms were free to express any emotions they wished. Naturally. "I have not and do not intend to ignore Pineclan, know that now. They are a threat, but acting in the offensive when the clan is not yet pure enough to face them as a united body would be detrimental to Fogclan. I will not allow them to taint Fogclan or wrong us without retribution, any and all crimes against us will be dealt with harshly. However, I will not rush in to battle with them, for that would do more harm than good. You do not need to 'warn' me about them, Reedfoot. I may not be Starclan's chosen, but that doesn't mean I was just Miststar's pawn. I was not raised from birth in a clan led by another of Starclan's chosen for nothing." He said this all, voice hollow and eyes cold. In fact, his voice almost mirrored the snippy way that Miststar used to use. It was a voice that demanded great respect. He had, in the latter part of the conversation, noted the soft soothing tones of a maternal figure, but Volepelt would not allow himself to be manipulated by them again. She was but a female, and she had no place to mother him. No, she would be submissive to him, as a female should, and would not speak out of place again. Speaking

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[Pyro]

A typical emotional female remark? His statement shocked Reedfoot, who in her time as a warrior of Fogclan had never had to deal with anyone who thought her anything less than a valuable, contributing member of the clan (aside from herself, of course). She was not oblivious to the coldness that had entered Volepelt's voice, and it was painfully obvious that she had overstepped her boundaries in some way. But had she overstepped them as a warrior to a leader, or as a she-cat to a tom? No...she gave herself a mental shake. She was trying to get herself worked up over nothing. It wasn't her place to advise Volepelt in such matters as what to do with PineClan without being invited to. With a start she realized that in essence, she had been attempting to tell her leader how to do his job. She'd even been doubting him. Completely unacceptable. Reedfoot bowed her head submissively, breaking eye contact. She may have been a council member, but that meant that she was merely Volepelt's eyes and ears within the clan, and his paws should the situation call for it. She was not his mind. He had been chosen by StarClan's chosen...and apparently had been in another clan blessed by StarClan as well. His knowledge was no doubt superior to her's and for her to have thought that she knew better? How could she, when her own record was tainted and hardly comparable to that of his? "I apologize, Volepelt, for being so brash as to assume that you needed advisement in these matters. I see now that you are quite capable, and it was foolish of me to think otherwise. I would understand if you saw fit to punish me." He hadn't made any moves to give her a sinwound, but the more she thought back on what she said, the more she saw that she was probably deserving of one. Apprentices had been clawed for less, and while she was not quite on their level, it could be said that everyone needed a reminder every once in a while. "I had no idea that you had been in other clan led by one of StarClan's chosen. Truly, you are blessed, and of course it is no matter of mere chance that it is so." [bg=babc9e][atrb=width,467,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Rolo]

Volepelt was happy with the female's verbal reaction to his instruction. From what she said, it seemed that she had realised that she had forgotten her place, and was remorseful about it. Watching her back down so quickly did wonders for the cold feeling, the anger, he had felt towards her. In fact, he found it was quite pleasing watching someone bend to his will for once, as much as he hated the feeling of being in control. She was lucky. Had she argued against him further, he would have punished her without a doubt. However, with her passivity returned, he lost all desire to punish her physically. "Punishments won't be neccessary. You have not sinned, for you have not entirely forgotten yourself. However, forget your place or speak out of turn again, and I will have to reinstruct and purge you more strictly." He spoke without a hint of emotion and without hesitation. "And yes, I was blessed with being born in a clan far purer than Fogclan. I was moulded into the ideal Starclan follower from birth, and I carried out senior warrior duties before the heathens destroyed the clan from the inside." He closed his eyes, and shook his head. Strange, thinking of his old clan still made a cold feeling appear in his chest. It was painful not being there anymore, being where he felt safest, especially when he now had a clan to run himself. Still, he would exchange all he had here to be back there again, in the height of it's glory. To see Truth again, and to- Volepelt realised with a jolt that he was succumbing to reverie, dreaming of what could be and not what was, and Starclan would frown upon that. He forced himself to think only on his clan, and on Reedfoot. "But yes, I agree that it cannot be chance that I have been led here. Truth, my old clan leader, preached that each of us had a place in Starclan's plan, and no doubt mine was to spread his teachings to another clan. We all have our place, Reedfoot, which we must accept regardless of how ready or willing we are for it." He looked at the she-cat. For a female, she had achieved far more than the average. Few had the intelligence or will to become a council member, and in that respect, Reedfoot was worthy of respect. However, he realised suddenly, perhaps it was time to remind her of the place that Starclan had given her in before her birth. Cats had both earthly and spiritual destinies after all, and if Reedfoot, as a council member, was likely to have forgotten the former. "Your place in Fogclan is to preach the doctrine and recite the rules, not create them, and it is as worthy a job as any other. However, as you are female, it is also to nurture the next generation of Fogclanners, for without them we have no future." Speaking

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[Pyro]

Reedfoot nodded her head in compliance. "I understand. Before heathens destroyed the clan from the inside? The she-cat thought of the rebels within FogClan, their own heathens. Did the same fate wait for them? If the rebels could not be silenced, converted, changed, would their shortsighted qualms with the regime be the end of all Miststar had worked for? All that Volepelt and the council now hoped to maintain? It was said that history often repeated itself, and especially where a lesson was not learned. She kept these thoughts to herself though. Volepelt had only just a few seconds ago made it perfectly clear that her insight was unwelcome and improper. Thankfully, the conversation turned once more to duty; something she was quite familiar with. However, what he said...was...not quite what she expected. To nurture the next generation? Did he find her attempts to bring her apprentice back into top form unsatisfactory? Truly, she was trying as hard as she could with Falconpaw. But as a mentor, there was only so much she could do before it was up to Falconpaw to progress or fall back. Or did he mean perhaps that her time was better spent, ultimately, in the nursery? Reedfoot's thoughts flashed to Rowanheart, her fellow council member...and...friend, perhaps, they could consider one another. They had hunted together on more than one occasion, heard each other's problems, offered encouragement...But they were not mates. And it might not even be StarClan's Will that they be. However, no other tom had caught her fancy, and as such she was, to be plain, without a mate and without kits. And of course, there could not be the latter without the former. "I do not quite gather your meaning. I have preached and practiced the doctrine...and I have taught, when the time is appropriate, the kits of other's. Have my efforts not met your expectations of a council member?" Speaking [bg=babc9e][atrb=width,467,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

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[Rolo]

Volepelt was content with the female's compliance. She seemed to have learned that it was best to bite her tongue when it came to dangerous thoughts, or rather not have any of them at all. He didn't doubt that the female still had numerous not-entirely-supportive thoughts about his leadership, it took time for all cats to completely forget to have them and dedicate themselves to the tasks they were given. Which was why Reedfoot would be an excellent candidate for mothering Fogclan kits. Fogclan's problems were bad enough without a female council members having thoughts. At least until she'd realised that a cat's mind should not wander beyond their given tasks. But Reedfoot herself seemed puzzled that he was suggesting this. She seemed to take this proposition as a sign that she was failing at her council role. This was false, for all the flaws she had. He couldn't deny that she'd been an invaluable council member, an asset to her gender, even if Rowanheart and Tawnywhisker's efforts far surpassed hers. "My meaning is plain, with no hidden messages. You have done a worthy job as a council member and Fogclan thanks you for your efforts and time. However, I am also concerned about the lack of kits in Fogclan, particularly from pure she-cats. As a female of excellent health and of good education, I believe you would produce kits of a brilliant quality. And as a council member and female, it is part of your task to produce them as the clan demands. Have you got any males of a suitable calibre in mind?" Perhaps she did. That would make his task simple, he would simply have to demand that the said male produce kits with her, as he had been formally selected to do so. This had commonly happened in his old clan, and he recalled being set up by Truth with 2 females, and was additionally approached by many others themselves. However, if she did not deem any males suitable... well, he might have to take the task on himself. It was his duty as the highest ranking male of the clan, just as it was Truth's before him. Speaking

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[Pyro]

She'd been expecting a demotion...but this...this was...Was it better or was it worse? Reedfoot could not deny that she harbored a desire for kits. she loved them. She wanted to be a mother one day, but again, she had no mate. Of course she had a tom in mind...didn't every she-cat eventually? But she couldn't just go up to Rownheart and say 'Oh hey, our clandestine leader would like me to nurture the next generation. Sexplz?' Not only did one simply...not...do that, but she couldn't say that she knew Rowanheart well enough to even consider...Yes, he was a tom of merit...but she would not force something upon him that he might not even think...No... "I...I have no mate," she stalled. His offer was so...double sided. On the one hand, it was an honor that Volepelt, deputy to the wise and pure Miststar should consider her a worthy mother to Fogclan's hope, Fogclan's future...But on the other hand...Well, it sounded as though he believed that was the only thing she could do. That she could serve no better purpose than as a, excuse the base thought, baby-machine. The very idea made her hackles rise with anger. She had served the clan perhaps not since its creation, but certainly close to it. That was moons of back-breaking, loyal, dependable, competent work, and she had hoped to have many moons more to continue it. Yes, she wanted to be a mother, but she wanted to be a warrior first. What if she had kits and she couldn't do anything else? What if Volepelt would not allow her to do anything else? "No mate." she repeated. "And...and you must understand it would be...improper...for me to assume that another would...There are many toms of merit in Fogclan despite the rebels...but I..." The council member shook her head, trying to find the right words. She still swung between anger and the strange feeling of being honored, and that made it hard to give a suitable reply. Hard not to strike Volepelt for his forwardness. Granted, there was some sense in what he said. With she-cats like Fawnstep mothering Fogclan's kits, they couldn't be sure that the next generation wouldn't be just as rebellious as the first. As a council member, she had to put her clan first. As a warrior she had to put her clan first. Surely she could manage an earlier than planned motherhood if it was for her clan. "I respect your...decision Volepelt, but I cannot just walk up to a tom and demand he father my kits. That's just not how such matters are handled. If anything it's the tom who comes to the she-cat." Her green eyes darted away, trying to seek strength form the ground. "I will try...to...to find someone. Maybe I have already. But I can't speed up the process." Speaking [bg=babc9e][atrb=width,467,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Rolo]

((I just want to state for any people reading this roleplay... this is making me so horrendously uncomfortable, you have no freaking idea. As someone who doesn't know if she wants children and loathes the idea that people believe that girls are only baby makers... Volepelt is making me want to stab him. But I'd not be doing my job as a writer if I backed out now >.>

So, a warning to you, squicky, misogynistic stuff ahead. ))

Volepelt realised he was right about Reedfoot's relunctance to become a mother. This much was now very clear from her stuttering and obvious stalling. Volepelt didn't hold this against her too much. He remembered the nervousness of the first-time mothers who had his kits in his former clan, it seemed that most females were jittery when they found themselves in this situation. As a male who did not even have the prospect of birthing kits himself, he was definitely forgiving. However, this did not mean that her obligations had changed. Since he had deemed it time that she provided kits to Fogclan, it was her task to swallow her pride and worries to do so. Additionally, her claim that she could not speed up the process was false. Yes, she did not have a mate, but not all kits were born in monogamous relationships. Back in his old clan, kits were regularly born from short artificially-made relationships, and the females often decided to label these kits 'Faith kits', rather than divulge the father's name. They were born as a symbol of the clan's collective faith, not as a result of love, which made them special in the eyes of the clan. Volepelt almost told Reedfoot not to be so sentimental about the whole process. However, like all females, it seemed that she had an emotional perspective on these things, and it would be unkind to treat her in such a manner. Needless to say, as she had no mates and felt uncomfortable approaching males about these issues, it fell upon him to carry out the duty. It was an honour that she'd likely enjoy, giving her a certain amount of status in the nursery for a time. In addition, she would have the assurance that he would treat her respectfully and provide for her more than adequately. Volepelt always checked up on his kits, but it was always the female's choice if they disclosed the father to the kits. All that was left was to word this delicately. Since the female was shy about these things, he would word it delicately. However, it was still no less than an order, unless she could provide adequate reassurance that she would find another suitable male quickly. "This isn't a problem, Reedfoot." He said lightly, smiling what he hoped was a comfortable smile, "I am always available to help in these matters, as required. As the highest ranking male, the responsibility for this task falls to me, if no others can be found. You have my assurances that I will handle the situation delicately. I am respectful and I will take care of you." Volepelt's voice was warm but still bereft of true friendliness. However, it was clear from his tone and the dull look in his eyes that this was simply a task he had to fulfil. There was no more emotion to this transaction than there was when he was hunting or in a clan meeting for him. It was purely business. "Come. Let us take this to my den. In there, we can talk in private and perhaps put things into motion." Speaking

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[Pyro]

"You...what?" It took a moment for everything to register. A hiss escaped her maw as her hackles rose in anger. He really was set on this wasn't he? And it wasn't StarClan's Will at all, it was his. This was his decision, his order. She wanted kits, she wanted to be a mother. She wanted to serve her clan in any way she could but this. This felt wrong. It was wrong. He wasn't asking her to start thinking about retiring to the life of a queen, he was ordering her to retire to the life of a queen. Not only that, but if she couldn't find a suitable mate, then well, golly gee, he'd just eliminate the entire process and get her knocked up now. She was insulted. She was honored that her leader would consider her worthy. But why? She was angry that that leader had to be a complete and utter- "This would not have happened before." Did she mean before Miststar...or StarClan forbid...before Owlstar? The council member lifted her head, locking eyes with her leader. "I am honored." she choked the words out, her tone twisting them into something between a curse and a resigned acceptance. No, she could not defy her leader. She was humiliated. Humiliated. To have been reduced to nothing more than a means to an end. No longer the teacher, only the producer of those others would teach. Others Volepelt deemed worthier. But no matter how much that knowledge made her ache, no matter how much it filled her with questions she didn't want to know the answer to- Why her? Why not another pure one? Was she good enough? Was this StarClan's will? she had to deal with it. She had to do this for the clan. But would they even be her kits? Speaking [bg=babc9e][atrb=width,467,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Rolo]

((Permission to power play in preparation for a time jump.))

"Very well, Reedfoot. Follow me to my den." Volepelt purred softly.

The moment she uttered her acceptance, he turned away, paying little attention to her reaction. Not through any wish to ignore her, but simply because he was unable to read the emotion in her voice and form. He was oblivious to it, it was as foreign to him as the semantic meaning of birdsong. He could pick out tunes that were obvious in their style, but any with ambiguity were confusing and essentially meaningless to him.

Without further ado, he retreated to his den, awaiting the arrival of Reedfoot.

The female followed quickly and, with a note to the guard not to let anyone disturb them, they cut themselves off from the rest of the clan.