Maybe forgiveness is where we fell. [D/V/L/A]

[Glowy]

It was hard to keep up with Volepelt today. Come to think of it, it was usually hard to keep up with Volepelt these days. Her limbs ached from wounds that were not allowed to heal, her stomach ached with hunger though the clan had plenty of prey, and even her heart ached. Dovepaw, a mere thirteen moons of age, was rapidly turning into an old soul, her youth being spent on suffering and mistreatment. All she wanted was for someone, somewhere, to approve of her. Was that too much to ask? Obviously it was too much to ask from her mentor, as he purged her "in the interest of her soul" almost daily now. He always seemed to be able to find a fault in something she did. She walked too slowly, she did her tasks too quickly, she didn't say enough to StarClan, she said too much to StarClan and bored them, she looked Volepelt in the eye, she didn't look him in the eye... anything and everything was open to his scrutiny, and a candidate for punishment. She didn't understand what was so disgusting about her. Why did they all hate her? Had she truly done something wrong, at some point? She could understand her siblings hating her, and Smokefur, now Smokepaw, but what in StarClan's name had she ever done to offend Volepelt? What did the Council so hate about her? It must be the fact that she didn't have a soul, or that her soul was too ugly for them. Yes. She could hardly stand that about herself. But she didn't go around mutilating herself because of it. How could they justify doing that? It didn't teach her anything except self-hatred and insecurity. Was they what they wanted, to ruin an entire clan's respect for themselves? She shook her head and picked up her pace to catch up with her mentor, limping. The pair of them were headed on a patrol to inspect the PineClan border. After all, there was no telling just what those "wicked sinners" would be getting up to with the border, was there? speaking [bg=e0e0e0][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Rolo]

Volepelt strode along at full pace. There was nothing like a patrol to get the blood pumping round the body. It was perhaps one of the most important tasks in the clan, guarding the clan boundaries from enemies and giving the patrollers time to focus on catching prey in an intensive period of time. Better yet, with Dovepaw at his side, it provided valuable time for them to work together and for him to access how her apprenticeship was coming along. After her switch of mentors, taking away from the corrupt Smokepaw, Dovepaw had come on in leaps and bounds. She was passive as a female should be, she thought before she spoke and she did her duty without being asked. She was but a few kinks away from warriorship now, and he had stepped up her training programme to match. After all, his time was limited, he did not have the time to work with her every day, so instructing her intensively was the only way to go about things. He turned to see her running to catch up with him, and smiled at her blandly. "It seems we're lucky Pineclan isn't causing us any trouble today." He said casually, "It's good, because it means we can hunt a little today too. Or I could access you on your knowledge of Starclan. Which do you think you would benefit from most this morning?" He never normally gave his apprentices a choice over what they did that day, but considering her age and the fact she was nearing ending her training, he supposed it was a valid question. Speaking

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[Glowy]

Wait a minute. Volepelt had turned to face her, and he wasn't scowling. He wasn't accusing her of being some lazy, half-clan weakling with more mud than brains inside her skull. He was doing nothing to belittle her, or insult her, or make her feel guilty. He was actually smiling at her. Sure, it was a blank smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. Dovepaw shook her head once, only once, after she realized her mistake. Volepelt was her mentor. It was the rest of the Council that was like that, not Volepelt. He was merely stern, not hateful, as Tawnywhisker or Thrushflower. Why did she always lump the Council Members together under the worst label they could possess? I was a right nasty habit, and one that she could accept the blame for with nothing more than a sigh and the drooping of her tail. She'd done worse than give cats an unjust label. All she had to do was remind herself that Volepelt was not like them, and it would all be okay. She caught up to him as he spoke, offering her... a choice in her training. Great StarClan in the heavens, what was this? He wasn't a tyrant, to be sure, but he never offered her a choice in her training. That was a luxury she had learned to give up shortly after her training with him had begun. He must be in a very good mood today to be offering her this. She tilted her head to the side as she considered his question and his behavior simultaneously. Her hunting skills were perfectly acceptable, and the fresh-kill pile was looking mighty full these days, so the prey would not be needed. There was food enough to fill every belly, and then some. She would be able to get away with opting out of hunting. "StarClan, Volepelt, if you wouldn't mind,"

[/b] she mewed, dipping her head respectfully. He would like that. Yes, he would appreciate than gesture of submission. She supposed he would enjoy the opportunity to beat his beliefs into her brain with a log as well. So it was really a win-win situation. She pleased Volepelt, and Volepelt got to bask in his... whatever it was that he felt. Superiority?

A few moons ago, she might have argued with Volepelt that StarClan really couldn't be everything he thought they were. She'd had her arguments all planned out and cemented in her mind, ready to smack against the brain of any devoted believer who used StarClan to justify their crimes. The crimes had been committed against her, and they had worn her down, but she had still managed to retain her fire somehow. But then she had committed a crime of her own, and for nothing more than to protect herself. She had watched someone she cared about be broken, and now he slept in the same den that she did. She was confronted with the reality of her choice every morning- that broken soul looked her in the face as the sun rose, she saw his wounds, which were so much worse than her own (hers were nearly healed by now, all of them), and she felt claws tearing her heart in so many pieces that she could scarcely bear it. So she always turned her face away and walked out to greet the sun without feeling its warmth.

The cold had taken those arguments, so many, so perfect, and had turned them to dust. They'd blown away, and blew further away every time she saw his face, or saw the wounds on any of her clanmates. It was weak of her, but she did not want to suffer their fate. And so she swallowed her words, and accepted her fate, nodding numbly to Volepelt's instructions, and replying to his questions with the words she thought he would most like to hear. It was a decent strategy, for it usually kept her out of the path of his claws. That was all she could ask for anymore. Safety.

It was remarkable what she endured with nothing more than a flick of her whiskers. She had learned how to keep her true self from her clanmates in her months in FogClan. Nobody would ever be the wiser, so long as she did her duty and used all the right words. Her biggest problem had been learning which words were the right ones, and choking herself to spit them out. Nobody in FogClan, in any of the clans, knew what she really thought of anything anymore. There was only Willowpaw, and even what he knew was becoming outdated at an increasing rate. She was her sole confidant, and she bore the burden of being largely a contained mass of opinions, learning to be silent, only showing her fire in her eyes. And oh, how they burned sometimes.

She kept her eyes averted, refusing for the moment to look her mentor in the face even after she brought hers up from the ground. It would be dangerous. He would see... he would see her pain. And he wouldn't care. If she thought he might care, or be able to help, she would tell him everything, for she was growing tired of the deception, but she knew that as he was one of the major causes of her turmoil, he would not be able to do anything to alleviate it. He most likely would not wish to do so, even if it was in his power. Volepelt did not operate in the world of emotions.

So who would be her confidant? She could trust nobody, for nobody had earned it. Dovepaw truly was doomed to be self-sufficient forever, wasn't she?

speaking
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[Rolo]

Volepelt smiled as she tilted her head in an endearing manner, proclaiming she'd like to talk about Starclan. Although, she was surely nearing adulthood now, it made her look so innocent she almost seemed kit-like. There it was! The type of serene purity that all cats should aspire towards. She really had come a long way from the lost, misguided apprentice that had been so convinced that her mentor was right. It was a sign that his regime really was working and was stirring faith even within those who some council members might have labelled as a lost cause. And best of all, it was all because of him. His careful guidance had set her on the right path, his reign had set the atmosphere in the clan that had helped her become the ideal warrior. Volepelt had always had a certain amount of pride in his apprentices, in fact he'd always found he always thought more of them then his own kits, but the warmth he felt now was wonderful. It almost made surviving without Miststar worth it, knowing he was succeeding in raising the next generation. "Good. You've chosen your weaker subject to train in. A sign that you're humble and know you still have a lot to learn." He purred. Now to choose a question to test her faith. Volepelt pondered for a moment, wondering what it was he could ask to truly show up how faithful his apprentice was. He wondered, for a moment, whether to ask her a stock question. For example, 'What members of the clan come where in the clan heirarchy, and why is this?' or maybe 'Why do we need Starclan faith to function as a clan?'. However, Volepelt was not stupid. He knew that any cat could recite perfect answers to those factual questions, no matter what amount of faith they had. So, he decided, the question should be a little more personal. "So, Dovepaw, do you have any doubts? If you have any, I can explain anything you don't understand." Speaking

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[Glowy]

... okay. Things were just getting weirder and weirder by the heartbeat here. Volepelt purred. He purred. Dovepaw was fairly certain that was the closest thing to an emotion he'd ever displayed. Perhaps the closest thing to an emotion he'd ever felt. No, that was a lie. Nobody was truly emotionless. Everybody was born with them, it was just that circumstances could choke off certain ones. Volepelt must not have had a past that had fostered his ability to express his feelings. She found herself wondering what had happened to him. Quite honestly, she'd rather hear about his past than listen to him ramble about StarClan. If they did exist, she knew how she stood with them, and if they didn't exist, all the better for her soul. They wouldn't take a devalued, tarnished soul like hers. Guilt was so unbecoming. She'd be one of those stars so dim you could barely see them, she was sure, or she'd just be the blackness of the night sky. Some souls had to fill that spot, right? "Thank you, Volepelt," she murmured. She finally raised her eyes to meet those of her mentor, searching for feeling, approval, salvation, anything she could get her paws on. She needed somebody to tell her it wasn't her fault, what had happened to her old mentors, and it had to be somebody she could believe. That was what she really wanted to know: could she be forgiven? Was she hopeless? But Volepelt would just give some answer about how StarClan was just and fair in its judgment or something. So she searched for the right question to ask. "Does StarClan judge you for your sins that you commit believing you're honestly doing the right thing? Can you be judged and cursed for being misguided?"

[/b] There. It was out. She'd been hesitant to ask, but it had pushed and shoved its way to the forefront of her mind and had slipped out of her mouth before she could keep the contents of her torn heart from showing their ugly mugs. Oh boy. This was going to be fantastic.

speaking
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[Rolo]

Volepelt was almost taken aback by the she-cat's question. It was surprising how perceptive it was. He'd offered his own difficult question and she'd replied with one that was even harder. It wasn't a question he'd come across very often, after all, Truth's word was law and if anyone was misguided they were always set back upon the right path before damage could be done. He'd tried to do the same for Fogclan, but it was early days, and false truths were always there to convince a cat that what their incorrect doings were in the right. But the question of whether Starclan would punish for these misdeeds, when a cat was not knowledgable about their wrongdoing, that was a near impossible thing to answer. However, looking at the question from the perspective of it's owner, he knew what kind of answer he needed to give. This question was almost a plea for help. It was a desperate attempt to gain approval and a question with an element of finality. If she knew this, she could begin to grow in her faith and for her to know that, should she ever doubt, she should seek guidance from those who knew about these things. But first, he had to answer the question. "That's a very good question, Dovepaw." He said, his voice beginning to approach a casual tone, "And the answer is a difficult one. However, I believe there is an answer, though perhaps not the one you were seeking. No cat can know how Starclan percieves our actions, unless they are chosen and have direct instruction from them, which means some remain misguided, believing their actions to be right. Take Pineclan, for example," He said matter-of-factly, "I'm sure may of them are misguided, some may believe it is better to live without belief, others that Starclan does not exist, and some might no longer believe because they were led away from the path of righteousness. Fundamentally, they will be punished for their disobedience because they are without belief, which should be as influential in their life as any leader or cat, and without this belief they are doomed to damnation. "However, if a cat does believe in Starclan, I believe the situation is a little different. Starclan loves always. They will support any believer, no matter what their action, even if they detest the action itself. They look at the soul, not the action, which is why the council work to clear every soul of sin or taint. However, they will not let the cat continue to act in this way. They work in mysterious ways, do Starclan, and they will often send a sign or a message or a cat to show you that you are misguided, and in doing so attempt to make you see the error of your ways. If someone is acting in an injust matter, they will be informed of it if they will only listen." He paused, wondering how to conclude his instruction. He guessed that giving Dovepaw a sign that she was fine and just might be for the best. "But, Dovepaw, if you believe in Starclan and follow the doctrine of Fogclan, you are not misguided. Miststar, Starclan's chosen, and my old clan were informed that this was the most just way of living, and so you have nothing to fear." Speaking

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[Glowy]

Volepelt's voice was nearly calming to Dovepaw. Listening to him speak about StarClan like they actually could love her... it was intoxicating. This hope, no matter how false it may be, was all the hope she had left in the world: that perhaps, somehow, distant souls of dear departed ones from ages ago and beyond, perhaps they might learn to love her if she could do everything right. If only she could polish up her soul a little bit more, then they would accept her. StarClan couldn't accept spit-shined souls; only the best, brightest, most radiant ones gained their place among the stars. One's soul had to be bright enough to be seen through the infinite black. It had to be clean enough that it would glitter. If it wasn't clean enough, it would just cast a murky glow, no matter how brightly it shone. That was what Volepelt wanted to save her from. He wanted to make sure that her soul would shine brightly enough to punch through the infinite night to bring light to the world. He wanted to do that for everybody. Was there so much harm in that? Blood had to be spilled to cleanse a soul. Some law older than the clans themselves dictated that, or so she'd heard. He was just doing some deep cleaning with everybody. Yeah. That was all. And all she had to do was follow FogClan's rules to a tee, never mess up, and confess her wrongdoings in front of everybody before her soul was cleansed. What a small price to pay for StarClan's love and devotion. But wait. Wait, wait, wait. Hadn't somebody told her once that... oh, she could scarcely remember it, but... hadn't she been taught, once, that to love meant forgiveness, and that forgiveness ought to be given freely? How did that fit in with FogClan and StarClan and purgings and everything that was so confusing and frightening? "I'm still scared, Volepelt," she whispered, shaking her head back and forth. Could she believe him? The authority of Mistpelt, after all, hadn't been worth all that much when she was there. Mousenose hadn't believed her. Should Dovepaw? Mousenose had been the most trustworthy cat she'd met in her clan. But he'd left. But he'd had to. But he'd LEFT. Dovepaw sat there shuddering. Volepelt would see what she needed. He was wise, he would know what to do. If he could see StarClan's will, a thing hidden to most cats, surely he would be able to see her pain, a thing she tried to hide from all cats. "Everybody believes their way is right. But how can you know for sure? How do you... aw, curse it, how do you KNOW? How do you know that everybody's just not feeding you their own version of the truth? What one says is truth somebody denounces as being the vilest lie, and so it just keeps going on and on. So how do you know?" speaking [bg=e0e0e0][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]