A Sorrowful Disappointment {Squirrel and Dove}

[Blossom]

A dark gray tabby tom crouched where no cat would see him (or so he hoped). Fresh blood welled up from the base of one ear. The wound stung and he longed desperately to lick it clean, massage the pain away, but he couldn't reach it. Using his paw would only brush dirt into it and cause it to sting even more. He'd learned that lesson before. He'd also learned, fairly quickly and at a very young age, not to go to the Medicine Cat with wounds like these; sin-wounds. That's what they were called. What sin had he committed, though? He was never sure. He was always being wounded for one reason or another, however. Of course, it was mostly Kestrelheart's doing, as well. He hated disappointing her. His sister always seemed to see what he couldn't. She seemed to think that he was capable of becoming something he just wasn't or was ever going to be.

Kestrelheart wanted him to become this great Warrior of FogClan. She wanted him to be this loyal believer and just throw his life away on something that no cat could even prove. It wasn't that he didn't believe. He might. He wasn't sure. There wasn't any proof, first of all. Secondly, even if there was, he wouldn't want to believe the FogClan way. They'd twisted the Code, they'd twisted what StarClan was meant to be. It was all just absolutely dreadful and he hated it.

Squirrelpaw did not nor would he ever choose to live the life he was forced to succumb to every day he woke up. Sometimes, he wondered if it would just be easier to break the rules to severely that Volepelt would insist on making an example of him and killing him on the spot. At least he wouldn't be a prisoner anymore. He'd be free then, whether he'd be with StarClan or not. The Dark Forest didn't seem so bad; not compared to FogClan.

When Kestrelheart came into his line of vision, the tom physically flinched and let out the utmost quiet sigh he could manage. She still looked cross. He'd made her mad. He always made her mad. He always disappointed her. Why? How was he supposed to know? How? By existing, he supposed.Nothing he did, no matter how great the effort, was ever good enough. He would never live up to the expectations that were thrust upon him against his own free will. He'd never even be mediocre, much less great.

At times like this, he wondered why he even bothered trying to please her. He pitied her, most certainly. Maybe that was why. Kestrelheart would never be free. She had fallen in love with her prison. Her dream was to become a warden of her prison and as far as he could tell, there was nothing standing in her way. It made him very, very sad.

What did he want to do? What would any sane prisoner want to do? He wanted to escape! Of course, he couldn't tell anyone. He couldn't run for it. He was trapped. Worse, he was sane.

[Glowy]

Volepelt was always busy these days, too busy, apparently, to train the Apprentice he had chosen himself. So Dovepaw milled about camp, going from task to task, trying to escape the notice of anybody who might get her in trouble. Hunger ripped into her belly, as she had not been given a chance to hunt for her clan in three days. Naturally, she was not allowed to eat. While the Warriors grew stronger, she wasted away. Such was the plight of the lowly Apprentice whose mentor was too busy with state affairs that he couldn't bother to send her on a hunting patrol. Sometimes she wondered if he was punishing her, in his own quiet, devious way. But what had she done? She had done nothing. While many Apprentices said the same thing, but broke the rules, she had literally done nothing that she could think of that would tempt Volepelt's wrath. Unless he had... no. No, Poppythroat was alright. If she were being punished for that, then he would be punished as well, which wasn't happening. The scent of fresh blood reminded her that if she were, in fact, being punished for anything, she would know. She was grateful for the moss that she held in her mouth, then, for it helped to block the smell of the blood. (She had been ordered to change the beds in the Apprentice Den, you see, and was nearly done with the job.) "Hey,"

[/b] she whispered to a form huddled in the darkness, a form that smelled of blood, "Squirrelpaw, right? Here. Take some of this and press it against your wound. It'll help. It's all I have right now, I'm sorry."[/b] Hidden from the scrutiny of the Council Members, Dovepaw felt safe enough to try and help the poor soul. He was always being beat upon by the warriors, especially his sister.

"Who did this to you?"[/b] She dropped the moss in front of his nose. It then occurred to her how strange this must be to him when she hadn't even bothered to introduce herself. "I don't know if you know, but I'm Dovepaw."[/b] She stood there, feeling a mite awkward. What was she doing? What could she even say to this tom? Poppythroat would know what to say. He would have words of encouragement and hope. He would be perfect. She was useless.

speaking
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[Blossom]

At first, the presence of another cat did not disturb any motivation within him to pay any attention to his surroundings. Squirrelpaw had merely resigned to staring at his paws, wondering about why he was still alive, or why he'd been born in the first place. That question was better. But then, the other cat spoke and as he looked up, he saw a startling white contrast to the darkness of his corner. Dovepaw. If her scent didn't help you discern her from any other cat, her fur sure did.

"Who did this to you?"

The question made the older tom scoff. However, he took the moss from her gently with a look of only the utmost appreciation. As he made himself busy, trying to figure out how to press it against his himself without appearing absolutely foolish, he answered her. "Kestrelheart this time,...again." Whom else? And, of course he knew who she was. They'd shared a den for how long now? Since she was six moons. He might not know her personally yet, but he knew her. As if he just remembered her asking if his name was, indeed, Squirrelpaw, he piped up rather hastily.

"Oh, right. Yes. My name is Squirrelpaw," he told her, clearing his throat as he finally gave up on the moss. It fell from where he'd had it tangled on his ear, drifting to his paws in a seemingly-too-slow way. The dark tom, with even darker stripes, watched it. When the wad of moss hit the ground, tickling his nose, he let out a brief sigh and looked back up at the young she-cat. Well, she wasn't that young, but younger than himself.

It only occurred to him then that he might be in her way. She looked as if she'd been cleaning out the apprentice's den. "I'm in your way, aren't I? I'm sorry. I'll move...." but then, why couldn't he help? "Unless I could offer you some assistance?" Any assistance. He was bored and wanted to get his mind off of his sister....and the idea of provoking Volepelt, directly, so that the tom would just finish him off now.

[Glowy]

Dovepaw felt horrid again. Squirrelpaw was being beat upon by his sister. Quite regularly, or so it seemed from his comment. How could she not know? How many other secrets did she not know that she ought to, to further the purposes of the... the only rebellion (hers and Poppythroat's, of course) that she felt actually had a chance of success, among all the small resistances that had cropped up in FogClan society. There was no organization. There was no purpose. If they could all bind behind a common figurehead and mission, then they had a much larger chance of succeeding in their fight against the Oppressor's wrongs. Of course, being his apprentice, how did Dovepaw truly feel about this? She disagreed with FogClan as much as anybody, but shouldn't somebody try to reach Volepelt before just taking away his power? Her mentor's intentions were pure. She had not had very long with him, but she'd been with him long enough to tell that much. Volepelt was not an evil cat; no more was she a perfect cat, by any means. However, Volepelt had had his label thrust upon him, just as Dovepaw was going to. They both would be symbols. The Dove of Peace and... whatever the brainwashed would call Volepelt. Probably something ridiculous like His High Holiness or something equally nauseating. Dovepaw did not want to overthrow Volepelt so much as she wanted to heal him. She wanted to open his eyes to see how misguided he was. His intentions were wonderful- who wouldn't want to be shown a path to eternal purity and peace?- but he was going about it in a ridiculous way. If Volepelt could shift his focus solely from souls to sharing it between souls and material needs, everybody would be happy. But no. No, he had to go all in. Volepelt needed somebody to show him that this was not the only way to accomplish what he wanted. Unless he really was into torture. Then he was just helpless. Anyway. Squirrelpaw. Sister. So far, Dovepaw was sucking at this whole Dove business. "Oh. Um. I just though it might have been the Council... or something..."

[/b] she mumbled, scuffing her paws. The topic in general made her intensely uncomfortable. She had never had a conversation with anybody about their sinwounds. Never. It was a completely bizarre experience for her, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "I won't say I'm sorry for you, because I doubt you're interested in my sympathy. But I wish this didn't have to happen at all."[/b] Oh, wonderful, Dovepaw. Very eloquent.

"Hm, wha-?"[/b] She shook her head a couple of times, more to help herself focus than anything. What had he said? He was in her way? He'd just been beaten up, for heaven's sake! He wasn't in anybody's way. How ridiculous. "Oh, no! Goodness, no. You're not in my way. But if you want some fresh moss for your bed, you should move for a bit. Don't go too far, though. Haha, maybe you could muss up Quailpaw's bed a little bit,"[/b] she chuckled, eyes sparkling.

The scent of Squirrelpaw's blood was unnerving her a bit, to be honest. Instead of seeing her denmate, she began to see Smokefur before her, lying still on the bloodied ground after Volepelt's abusive purge. The vision liked to come up and taunt her sometimes, whispering to her mind that it was her fault, which it was, and that he would never be able to forgive her. She wouldn't deserve his forgiveness anyway. "Hey... um. Do you want somebody to clean that?"[/b] A few little fibers from the moss were stuck to the blood in his wound, which was just disgusting. Those, at the very least, ought to be removed. "I'm so sorry. I'm not usually like this. This is totally bizarre for me. I'm sorry. I'm never this... brazen. Outspoken. Weird. Um. Yeah. Like this. But really. Do you want somebody to clean that? It's kind of gross."[/b]

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[Blossom]

By the time the white she-cat had finished speaking, Squirrelpaw's eyes were wide and unblinking. He was still crouched in his dark corner, only his yellow eyes shining through. This wasn't just bizarre for her, it was unusual for him, as well. The tom wasn't used to talking to any other cat, not more than in casual passing. "I...um..." he began, but then allowed the uncertain words to fade. Awkwardly, the apprentice moved to the side, out of her way, as his muscles slowly relaxed.

While she talked about someone cleaning the wound at his ear, he felt his fur prickle with sudden, fluttering warmth. There was no reason for it, but he couldn't help what he felt. Cleaning his ear would require the cat to be at a certain proximity to him, and he wasn't used to that either.

"I-I...." Well, he certainly couldn't reach it himself, could he? And if it was left like it was, there was a high chance that it could become affected and that infection could cause him to become rather ill. However, if it was cleaned, cats would notice and would become suspicious. It was illegal to help any cat with a sin-wound. No cat could offer assistance. What would happen to the cat that did help? There was no telling and he couldn't let anything happen to a cat as sweet as Dovepaw.

“No, no. It’s fine. It’ll be just fine,” he finally concluded after several moments of careful deliberation. “They’d see that it was clean and, obviously, I’m not able to reach the wound in order to clean it myself. They’d know that some cat helped me and I just can’t take that risk,” he explained further.

[Glowy]

Dovepaw snorted. Squirrelpaw was concerned that she would get in trouble? He was worried about the risk that she would take by licking the blood off his ear? He was the only one. The sentiment was touching, truly, but did he not realize how low her own safety was on her list of priorities? It was pretty near the bottom as it was, but when somebody else's well-being was at stake, Dovepaw's safety got nearly wiped from the list altogether. There was still a shadow acknowledged, but Dovepaw tended to ignore shadows like that. She wasn't that important. She was just a little bird, or a cloud up in the sky. Birds could be eaten, and clouds always dissipated, even if they did bring shade or hope. "Touching, but I think you've overestimated how much I care about my safety,"

[/b] she said with a clipped, businesslike tone. Squirrelpaw was sweet to be worried about her, but really, what more could they do to her? They hadn't taken her soul- they had completely erased it. They had taken everything she had ever cared about from her, literally. Well, with the exception of her family. That was of her own doing. "Well, when somebody else's well-being is on the line. Please, let me help you. I'm dying to do something that actually matters. Please."[/b]

Dovepaw wanted to help him so much that her chest began to ache. The wound wasn't even that bad, in her estimation, but even a thorn prick could become infected if it was not at least cleaned. She did not want to see him with a gangrenous ear, though it would be sickeningly amusing to see the less sane apprentices suffering because of the stench in the den. If he got sick, there was no telling how the apprentices would suffer for it, what with the close quarters. So, really, by helping him, she would be helping herself. Now she just had to make him see.

"I mean, what's the worst they could do? Kill me? They would never, not with Volepelt as my mentor. He's cold, but he would never order my destruction like that. He wants to save me. And besides, there's no guarantee that they'd figure out that it was me."[/b] Dovepaw had to help Squirrelpaw somehow. It wasn't right for him to be treated this way.

speaking
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