Quietly, now [Tagged]

[Deleted]

beavergaze

@iderioux

- oh father tell me, do we get what we deserve? -

Froststar had just finished her announcements when Drizzlepelt joined Beavergaze. The chocolate faced tom had beckoned her, needing a trusted ally to help untangle his thoughts. Waiting for Drizzlepelt to properly join him, he mewled a greeting to her and pushed his whiskers forward. The shrew that he’d selected as lunch was quickly disappearing and would soon be entirely gone.

“Drizzlepelt,” Beavergaze purred to the permanent queen. The tom’s cold eyes rested on his longtime friend, and his tail swept towards her. “Please tell me that those announcements were a joke,” the warrior’s purr had turned into an irritable rumble. “Is this how we honor Starclan? Is this tradition?”

Casting a wary glance at the Leader’s Den, Beavergaze shifted himself until his back faced the tall rocks that made up their leaders’ towering podium. Changing the subject momentarily, Beavergaze kneaded the soft earth beneath his paws. “I have heard reports of Loudthunder, and they are generally pleasing. As he fills his warrior duties, he is beginning to see a path. I think this is good.”

A small beetle crawled past the cats’ paws, entirely unaware of their significance. Beavergaze watched it, silently monitoring its journey to complete whatever tasks beetles are charged with. Were all of their lives so linear? Why do some give orders all of their lives, while others must follow commands into the grave? Why should an apprentice be the next leader?

Beavergaze narrowed his eyes into a scowl and reached out to nudge the beetle off of its intended course. Why weren’t the best warriors more honored? Respect was always deferred to older cats, but that did not mean that older warriors held any higher office than the cats that they guided. Was Fireclan too traditional? This thought dismayed Beavergaze, and he sought to meet Drizzepelt’s gaze. “Do you remember what your mentor was like?”

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Drizzlepelt

@jackvall

- so let go and jump in, what are you waiting for? -

As their clanmates dispersed from the clearing following the ceremony—if the rather laissez faire routine could really be called as much—Drizzlepelt remained seated next to Beavergaze. Her eyes shifted from one face to the next, favoring Cinderstar’s kits and their new titles. Having been charged with looking after them once Cinderstar returned to her duties, Drizzlepelt felt almost as much pride in watching their naming ceremony progress as she had felt with Loudthunder and Quiet-’s. Shifting her weight from paw to paw, the dark furred she-cat cleared her throat gently as they found themselves with relative privacy.

”Drizzlepelt... Please tell me that those announcements were a joke.”

One of her ears folded back as bright green eyes tracked after where Froststar had disappeared. She certainly couldn’t say that she agreed with the way that the she-cat carried on and conducted herself, but she was loathe to let Froststar’s actions and lack of reverene for their ancesters spoil the special occasion for the kits she’d helped raise.

”Mm... I’d thought the last one was... something.” she agreed softly, whiskers pulling forward, ”it’ll be a blessing from Starclan if Cinderstar or Aspenstar can shove her free of the limelight,” a small laugh followed her words, but the dark-furred she-cat couldn’t genuinely say that she was amused by the situation. There were three leaders for a reason—one overstepping her bounds didn’t bode well.

As Beavergaze relayed what he’d taken note of regarding her more boisterous son, Drizzlepelt gave a somewhat absent nod of her head. None of that would matter if he lost his life in the impending conflict with Ravenclan... She felt that they’d all been lucky when facing Willowclan—but their older neighbors were crafty and wilely... it had been a Ravenclanner that had resulted in the loss of her first mate.

First... her ear twitched as she tried to dismiss the thought.

”Do you remember what your mentor was like?”

Drizzlepelt gave a tiny smile and a dip of her head. ”She was a good, strong cat. Everything you’d expect of a Fireclan warrior... but she was also very kind.” she paused, tail-tip giving a gentle series of taps against her fluffy paws as she thought back to the old she-cat, ”When my mother passed during my apprenticeship, she was very understanding.” She’d been more than that by Fireclan standards—not only had she not balked when Drizzlepelt, then Drizzlepaw, hadn’t been awake and out of her nest on time... she’d settled down alongside her and groomed her fur like her mother might have.

”I miss her.” she admitted, tilting her head to the side to bump her forehead up against the chocolate-faced tom’s shoulder. After a moment of silence, she gave a tiny bemused snort. ”How’s Raggedthroat been?” Drizzlepelt’s smile was about what one would expect when speaking of the foul tempered senior warrior—but there was a respect there that hadn’t wavered.

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Beavergaze

@iderioux

- oh father tell me, do we get what we deserve? -

”Mm... I’d thought the last one was... something.” Measured as always, Beavergaze thought to himself. Trying to elicit a particularly strong reaction from Drizzlepelt had always been difficult. ”It’ll be a blessing from Starclan if Cinderstar or Aspenstar can shove her free of the limelight,” Drizzlepelt continued with a humorless laugh.

Beavergaze agreed rather glumly. What were the other leaders doing? Keeping up with Froststar could be a mighty challenge if the Emotional Leader were given a mouse’s length of leeway. Grumpily, Beavergaze set to grooming himself after his lunch and thought about his companion’s words. Though Beavergaze was known to be staunchly traditional, even he felt that change was sometimes a necessity. Look what had happened to Raven Clan when Willow Clan had splintered into being.

Refusing to ponder Raven Clan for more than a moment, Beavergaze’s thoughts turned to his mentor. Raggedthroat. The old tom was still kicking, and performed his warrior duties as if he were no older than 30 moons old. Heat rose to Beavergaze’s ears as he recalled his apprenticeship. ”She was a good, strong cat. Everything you’d expect of a Fireclan warrior... but she was also very kind.” Kind. Beavergaze slowly turned his cool stare to Drizzlepelt. ”When my mother passed during my apprenticeship, she was very understanding.”

Heat now rose into Beavergaze’s throat. A kind mentor, an understanding mentor. The seasoned warrior lashed his tail once at some irritable thought, and set to cleaning and trimming his keen claws. “You must miss her terribly,” Beavergaze admitted. “Not many can claim to have had such a compassionate mentor.”

”How’s Raggedthroat been?” Drizzlepelt’s snort caused Beavergaze’s mouth to twitch at the corner. How had be been? To all appearances and accounts, Raggedthroat was the same he had ever been: Staunch, stoic, and surly. If the old tom had ever been pleased or grateful in his entire life, no other cat in existence would have known. And, Starclan forbid, Raggedthroat found something to his displeasure, the subject would be notified with the swiftness of a sparrow. Drawing an opinion from the grizzled cat proved as fruitful as drawing water from a rock.

“He is an exemplary warrior as always, and his health seems to be steady. One would find it difficult to guess his age.” Beavergaze presented a dispassionate report to Drizzlepelt, noting the things he’d noticed from the old veteran. Beavergaze didn’t choose his old mentor’s company often, and mostly it was in the context of a hunt or important patrol, but he kept an eye on the scarred tom.

Beavergaze’s eyes trailed to Drizzlepelt’s soft stomach, and his whiskers fluttered with a passing flare of excitement. With a swallow to regain his composure, Beavergaze sat straight as a sapling and curled his tail around himself again.

“You would have made an outstanding mentor, you know. You would have created a new warrior, I think. More aware, less prone to rash decision-making and blind pride.”

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Drizzlepelt

@jackvall

- so let go and jump in, what are you waiting for? -

His dour spirits weren’t lost on Drizzlepelt—she'd become somewhat adept at gauging the tom cat’s moods as he had begun to spend more time in the nursery after delivering his offerings for the older kits and the queens that mothered them. Something was bothering him; something more than the usual lazy young warrior or the recent worries that had plagued the burly tom cat during the cold, barren moons of leaf-bare. Narrowing her eyes almost imperceptibly, Drizzlepelt resolved to continue their conversation until at least a fair portion of the weight across Beavergaze’s shoulders was lifted.

”You must miss her terribly...”

”I do, she was a rare sort of cat...” Drizzlepelt murmured, continuing to lean against Beavergaze and praying that perhaps a few more moments might lend a spell of comfort to him.

”—not many can claim to have had such a compassionate metor.”

The dark-furred she-cat nodded her head against Beavergaze’s shoulder, bright green eyes staring down at a distant spot in the scattered dust of the camps clearing. He wasn’t wrong—her mentor had been as much of a rarity among Fireclan as she had been a desirable archtype. ”I was very lucky,” she agreed quietly, ears folding out to the sides as her eyes slowly turned up towards Beavergaze’s face. He seemed troubled... it was a different sort of stoniness that marked his stern expressions. The tiny twitch at the corner of the color-point's mouth wasn’t lost on Drizzlepelt—but rather than remarking on it, the dark-furred she-cat simply sat back on her haunches to rise up enough to bump the bridge of her nose up underneath Beavergaze’s chin.

”I think you turned out wonderfully...” she started, giving the muscley tom cat a couple of licks to his cheek to smooth the fur there, ”—and I don’t think that you’re lacking in kindness, either,” she added, her farther forepaw rising to touch at his shoulder and hold the lighter furred cat to her in a gentle hug. ”You weren’t as lucky to have the same lessons that I was given—but I think you came to some of the same conclusions,” she purred softly, nuzzling her nose into Beavergaze’s cheek as her whiskers pulled forward.

A few moments of silence passed, and eventually the big tom cat’s whiskers pulled forward to touch against her own.

”You would have made an oustanding mentor, you know.”

Drizzlepelt let out a soft snort as her chin dipped down towards her chest. Even before she had found herself heavy with kits, she had never been on the short-list for mentoring new apprentices, and she knew why. By Fireclan standards, she was too soft. Too lenient, too caring. As much as they cared for ‘balance,’ outside of their leaders... it was still generally frowned upon to find other personality types.

”I’m sure,” she returned mildly, bushy tail giving a flick as she turned her gaze towards the borders of their encampment. ”I like to think I’m doing just that from the nursery,” she admitted with an uneven shrug. ”It’s hard to tell if I’m being honest... sometimes it feels like all of my early work is for naught once their mentors get ahold of them...” Drizzlepelt trailed off, brigt green eyes slowly turning back up towards Beavergaze’s face.

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beavergaze

@iderioux

- oh father tell me, do we get what we deserve? -

”I like to think I’m doing just that from the nursery,” Drizzlepelt offered in response to Beavergaze's praise. ”It’s hard to tell if I’m being honest... sometimes it feels like all of my early work is for naught once their mentors get ahold of them...” Drizzlepelt trailed off, and her bright green eyes slowly turned back up towards Beavergaze’s face. The chocolate faced tom met and returned her gaze. The permanent queen certainly had a point.

Beavergaze nodded in consideration, his thoughts turning again to Raggedthroat. If anyone had been kind to Beavergaze in the nursery, any memory of it had been cruelly ground away by the old warrior’s training. Any lessons he had learned in the nursery, Raggedthroat had drilled different and harder lessons until the nursery memories belonged to some other bright eyed kit. With a dry sniff, Beavergaze turned his stare back up to the lookout rock. Drizzlepelt had many good points.

“What you say is true. While we have the greatest warriors in all of the clans, what cost must each cat pay to earn FireClan’s respect? How can we have warriors that know anything else but battle? Perhaps that is not a question that needs to be answered right now. Right now, we need hardened warriors. And whatever cost that must exact, we shall have to pay it until we see true peace.” Beavergaze looked back to Drizzlepelt with hooded eyes.

“I have been thinking of something, as of late. If it works, then we will never have to worry about borders again. We will be able to live in a way that benefits every cat, not just the most ferocious warrior.” Beavergaze trailed off and his expression turned thoughtful. It was a crazy, dangerous idea, but the benefits would be tremendous, and would provide a peace of mind that no one had felt in several dozen moons.

“It’s dangerous, and will require our best, but the rest of FireClan will be able to concentrate on what’s important for the future, instead of how to immediately survive. There may even be death, the warriors that I require will have even more training and growing to do.” The chocolate faced tom brushed by Drizzlepelt in an attempt to move away from the spot where he’d just finished eating. “I will tell you of my idea, but if you disagree I do not wish to hear it. I will do this thing, and your words of reason will not dissuade me from a dangerous idea this time.”

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Drizzlepelt

@jackvall

- so let go and jump in, what are you waiting for? -

Beavergaze’s demeanor seemed to change after the old tom was brought up, but it hardly surprised Drizzlepelt. His old mentor was nothing short of intense and beyond difficult interpersonally—and yet, even with the change in demeanor, it seemed to inspire something in her companion as well. A certain eager dutifulness... it was the only thing that had ever warranted praise from the foul tempered old tom cat.

”Beavergaze—” she started, voice quiet.

”—I have been thinking of something, as of late. If it works, then we will never—”

Though her expression remained mild, a sense of dread began to twist inside of her stomach. She’d been here before—having this same conversation before. She’d witnessed the same determination in Him, and he’d died for it. Swallowing roughly as Beavergaze continued on, Drizzlepelt nodded her head along as her ears began to ring. Would the same thing happen all over again? Bright green eyes tracked over Beavergaze from his ears down to his paws and tail, as though the dark furred she-cat were studying him and trying to memorize him. It shamed her—but she couldn’t remember the ticking of his fur. I won’t be without memories—not this time, she resolved, mouth tightening.

”—There may even be death, the warriors that I require...”

Drizzlepelt rose to her paws and pressed her forehead against the big tom cat’s shoulder, her nose hovering somewhere in the plumes of his pelt as she drew in his scent. As though sensing that she was going to issue some sort of protest—and perhaps she might have, had he remained a moment longer—Beavergaze brushed by her and away from her.

Tracking his steps with her eyes, Drizzlepelt merely nodded as he asserted that there would be nothing she could do to dissuade him from his plans. ”You’ll need to speak with Cinderstar,” she finally stated, looking down towards her paws as a weighted silence fell over her shoulders for several long moments. ”I won’t try to stop you...” she started, looking back up at him and fixing him with a stern expression that she hoped matched his intensity, ”—but don’t involve my sons.” she said.

She had buried kits before—but they had been nameless little things, born without life alongside Loudthunder and Quiet-. She had buried her mate and sat his vigil while their kits still weren’t fully weaned. She was prepared to bury Beavergaze if she had to... but she wouldn’t bury her sons.

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Beavergaze

@iderioux

- oh father tell me, do we get what we deserve? -

Beavergaze looked over his shoulder at Drizzlepelt when he felt her breath in his fur. She really wasn’t going to try and stop him? ”You’ll need to speak with Cinderstar,” the molly finally stated and dropped her gaze to her front paws. ”I won’t try to stop you...” Drizzlepelt started, and returned her gaze to meet Beavergaze and fix him with a stern expression that could chip stone, ”—but don’t involve my sons.” The queen’s word was as final and uncompromising as Beavergaze could bear.

Relaxing his features, Beavergaze turned to face Drizzlepelt and met her whiskers with his. “The thought only crossed my mind once, and that was to banish it,” Beavergaze stated firmly. “Your sons’ lives will not be in my jaws. These will be proven warriors, ones that know what and who they will be facing.”

The color point swayed his tail and took a deep breath. “Speaking with Cinderstar is something that I have been preparing for. I will speak directly and have her understand a need that FireClan has been neglecting. This will make everyone safer.” Beavergaze’s resolution was absolute. The tom dipped his head and rubbed the top of his skull against the corner of Drizzlepelt’s lips. Pausing, the tom broke into a ragged purr.

“You shouldn’t worry so much, I’ve thought of the risk. This is not a blind venture.” Beavergaze meowed quietly and kept his head tucked under Drizzlepelt’s chin. “Besides,” the scarred tom murmured into warm neck fluff, “if I got killed, I wouldn’t be able to smell you. And if others died, I wouldn’t be able to face you. Both of those things are equally forbidden.”

Beavergaze pulled away to investigate the surrounding camp. The gathered warriors had all but dispersed, though the odd pair lingered here and there in discussion. Glancing towards the nursery, the chocolate faced tom motioned with a bob of his head. “Do you need any help today? I am free of duty until this evening. If you have nesting that needs refreshing, doing so may help clear my thoughts.”

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Drizzlepelt

@jackvall

- so let go and jump in, what are you waiting for? -

The big tom cat’s assurances brought a slow nodding of her head, and Drizzlepelt’s eyes cut away from Beavergaze as he continued on. The assurances to leave her sons free of his new plans only brought some relief—she knew exactly how persistent her boys could be. Swallowing roughly and gently clearing her throat, she looked up in time to see the color-point tom coming closer.

”This will make everyone safer,” He said.

Closing her eyes, Drizzlepelt tipped her head down to meet his nuzzle, cherishing the rare touch. ”Not you,” she said gently. There was a look of regret on her features as she looked him over again. It had only recently seemed that life had calmed enough to think of what could be between the two of them—but once more it seemed that the stars were shifting, drawing that tantalizing ‘one day’ of a future farther and farther away. ”You’ll be at the head of every conflict,” she continued, issuing a relenting sigh as she took her chance to nuzzle against him more insistently.

”You shouldn’t worry so much...”

A tiny, breathy laugh left her as she nodded her head, pushing herself to her paws once more and pulling out of their embrace—gently touching their noses together as she parted from him. ”I’ve my reasons...” she murmured, smiling at him in a way that was almost apologetic. ”You know there’s going to be death,” she said somberly in a quieted tone. Turning her gaze towards the nursery, Drizzlepelt shifted her weight on her paws, feathery tail gently swaying behind her.

”Do you need help this evening? I’m free of duty until this evening—”

One of her ears turned towards the tom cat as Drizzlepelt mulled over the question. It was a chance—an opportunity, but she couldn’t take it in its entirety. ”Just your company and a bit of help grooming,” she finally stated, leaning over to bump her shoulder against his as she made her way out of the main camp’s clearing and to a familiar sunny patch just outside of camp.

fin.

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