Post by Pyro on Jul 20, 2011 8:07:55 GMT -10
Part One
Sometimes, people really do get a happily ever after.
The evil witch knocks the princess down, down, down but can never knock her so down that her knight in shining armor cannot bring her right back up again. And then the witch is slain and the princess and her knight ride off into the sunset to make a family and live in contentment for all their days. Harefang could distinctly remember a certain Rainstorm muttering that story to her as she lay in Crowflower's den trying to decide whether it was worth the effort to get back up again.
If anything, it had only made her want to stay on the ground all the more. Her knight was long gone. There could be no rides into the sunset for them, no happy families, no beautiful castle at the end of a long and winding dusty road.
She wasn't quite sure what had made her want to leave the medicine cat den. But when she did it wasn't like in Rainstorm's stories where the lost soul finally finds the light. She wasn't the conquering heroine, finally recovered from her battle wounds and ready to strike again. She was dinky old Harefang. Beautiful, yes, until you looked at her face. Harefang wasn't sure whether her eyes were completely gone or if they were still there, damaged beyond repair. She didn't need them though, to know her clan was watching when she finally emerged from the medicine cat den. She could feel their eyes. Staring. Staring. She could tell they were uncertain of how to greet her. The awkwardness was palpable, and the she-cat was quite unwilling to dispel it. Harefang simply could not bring herself to joke. She could not bring herself to smile and say "Hey guys! Long time no see! Well, you know, I'll never see again, but you know what? I'm okay. Everything's gonna be fine." Because She wasn't okay. And everything was not fine.
She could feel their eyes following her. Watching her. Waiting to see what she would do. If she would go up to Gingerstar and demand to go on patrol. If she would go up to Rainstorm and thank him for the comfort he'd been while she was recovering. If she'd go up to Crowflower and ask him if there was anything she could do to repay him for what he'd done in saving her. But just as she couldn't bring herself to joke, she couldn't bring herself to face them. None of them. And so she let them watch as she made that painful journey to the elder's den.
Sableheart tutted and purred, trying to find the words to express how sorry she was for the young she-cat. No-ears assured her that there was just as much pride to be had in being an elder than in being a warrior, perhaps even more. Plovereye just nodded, apparently satisfied with Harefang's choice not to delay the inevitable. They talked her through everything, the elder's ceremony that is. They told her what an honor it was, that they too had been uncertain about leaving behind their lives as warriors, but all clan cats had to walk the road she was on. All her yearmates would eventually join her in the den, long after each of the current elders were gone. But they would join her after they had lived their lives. They would join her after they had fought in battles that would become stories for their grandkits. They would join her after they had found mates to share their retirement with. After they had seen their own kits grow to be warriors.
Harefang, meanwhile would do this all from the elder's den.
She already had her story. One she hoped she would never be asked to tell. And chances were, her clanmates would respect her enough not to ask. But would her kits be the same?
Harefang wasn't sure when she first suspected she might be carrying his kits. At first she had chalked her weight gain up to the inactive life of an elder. Yes, her life just wouldn't be complete until she was fat and blind. She might not have given it any concern until she felt something...moving. That little kick. That little kick that jolted her more than if she had been struck by lightening.
Once again she had to make that journey across camp. Once again she could feel their eyes boring into her pelt. Was Harefang really coming out of the elder's den? She didn't even come out of there to eat. The curiosity in her clanmates' eyes died as she went into the medicine cat den. Ho hum. She probably just needed poppy seeds.
Crowflower tried to maintain a professional atmosphere as he examined Harefang. He knew he didn't have to hide his shock as he felt the unmistakable movement of kits in her belly--she would never see it--but he still felt like he owed her that courtesy. He couldn't for the life of him figure out how she had gotten. Well. He knew how but who? As far as he knew she hadn't had any contact with anyone outside the elder's den. He knew, because every time he asked her if she was going out today when he checked on the elders, she just shook her head.
Unless.
He'd seen the way Firestorm had looked at her that day. How they'd both been so reluctant to part from each other. He didn't even have to ask Finchwhisker about whether or not his brother had loved Harefang...and all of a sudden it was not so hard to imagine how she had gotten pregnant. He just hoped to whatever force was out there that the rest of his clan was not as knowledgeable. That maybe they'd assume that one of their own was the father.
"I take it by your silence tha' it's true?"
"Ah...yes. Congratulations, Harefang. You're going to have kits."
Sometimes, people really do get a happily ever after.
The evil witch knocks the princess down, down, down but can never knock her so down that her knight in shining armor cannot bring her right back up again. And then the witch is slain and the princess and her knight ride off into the sunset to make a family and live in contentment for all their days. Harefang could distinctly remember a certain Rainstorm muttering that story to her as she lay in Crowflower's den trying to decide whether it was worth the effort to get back up again.
If anything, it had only made her want to stay on the ground all the more. Her knight was long gone. There could be no rides into the sunset for them, no happy families, no beautiful castle at the end of a long and winding dusty road.
She wasn't quite sure what had made her want to leave the medicine cat den. But when she did it wasn't like in Rainstorm's stories where the lost soul finally finds the light. She wasn't the conquering heroine, finally recovered from her battle wounds and ready to strike again. She was dinky old Harefang. Beautiful, yes, until you looked at her face. Harefang wasn't sure whether her eyes were completely gone or if they were still there, damaged beyond repair. She didn't need them though, to know her clan was watching when she finally emerged from the medicine cat den. She could feel their eyes. Staring. Staring. She could tell they were uncertain of how to greet her. The awkwardness was palpable, and the she-cat was quite unwilling to dispel it. Harefang simply could not bring herself to joke. She could not bring herself to smile and say "Hey guys! Long time no see! Well, you know, I'll never see again, but you know what? I'm okay. Everything's gonna be fine." Because She wasn't okay. And everything was not fine.
She could feel their eyes following her. Watching her. Waiting to see what she would do. If she would go up to Gingerstar and demand to go on patrol. If she would go up to Rainstorm and thank him for the comfort he'd been while she was recovering. If she'd go up to Crowflower and ask him if there was anything she could do to repay him for what he'd done in saving her. But just as she couldn't bring herself to joke, she couldn't bring herself to face them. None of them. And so she let them watch as she made that painful journey to the elder's den.
Sableheart tutted and purred, trying to find the words to express how sorry she was for the young she-cat. No-ears assured her that there was just as much pride to be had in being an elder than in being a warrior, perhaps even more. Plovereye just nodded, apparently satisfied with Harefang's choice not to delay the inevitable. They talked her through everything, the elder's ceremony that is. They told her what an honor it was, that they too had been uncertain about leaving behind their lives as warriors, but all clan cats had to walk the road she was on. All her yearmates would eventually join her in the den, long after each of the current elders were gone. But they would join her after they had lived their lives. They would join her after they had fought in battles that would become stories for their grandkits. They would join her after they had found mates to share their retirement with. After they had seen their own kits grow to be warriors.
Harefang, meanwhile would do this all from the elder's den.
She already had her story. One she hoped she would never be asked to tell. And chances were, her clanmates would respect her enough not to ask. But would her kits be the same?
Harefang wasn't sure when she first suspected she might be carrying his kits. At first she had chalked her weight gain up to the inactive life of an elder. Yes, her life just wouldn't be complete until she was fat and blind. She might not have given it any concern until she felt something...moving. That little kick. That little kick that jolted her more than if she had been struck by lightening.
Once again she had to make that journey across camp. Once again she could feel their eyes boring into her pelt. Was Harefang really coming out of the elder's den? She didn't even come out of there to eat. The curiosity in her clanmates' eyes died as she went into the medicine cat den. Ho hum. She probably just needed poppy seeds.
Crowflower tried to maintain a professional atmosphere as he examined Harefang. He knew he didn't have to hide his shock as he felt the unmistakable movement of kits in her belly--she would never see it--but he still felt like he owed her that courtesy. He couldn't for the life of him figure out how she had gotten. Well. He knew how but who? As far as he knew she hadn't had any contact with anyone outside the elder's den. He knew, because every time he asked her if she was going out today when he checked on the elders, she just shook her head.
Unless.
He'd seen the way Firestorm had looked at her that day. How they'd both been so reluctant to part from each other. He didn't even have to ask Finchwhisker about whether or not his brother had loved Harefang...and all of a sudden it was not so hard to imagine how she had gotten pregnant. He just hoped to whatever force was out there that the rest of his clan was not as knowledgeable. That maybe they'd assume that one of their own was the father.
"I take it by your silence tha' it's true?"
"Ah...yes. Congratulations, Harefang. You're going to have kits."
