Fast Times at Clairemont High [tagged]

[Glorilyss]

@starling

It was a beautiful day, she supposed. A big blue bowl of sky hung suspended over the craggy slope of the mountain, rich golden sunshine melting in butter-bright waves to cover every inch of the incline. Where hardy grasses could struggle up through the thin soil, they showed verdantly grey-green; the edges of dusky-brown rocks were gilded with the light as the sun lazed in the sky. The stark outlines of the cave's opening provided a dark frame, as though the tumbled slope and the vivid sky were all just part of a portrait hung on the wall of theTalonClan camp cave. She would have to admit, it was a beautiful day.

Well, at least, if you weren't a prisoner.

The medicine cat's joy in the pretty scene outside of camp was soured by the thought. To anyone who looked, she didn't betray any hint of being held inside her own camp. She was allowed out, though usually with a discreet shadow, and never treated unkindly. Things had been easier since Pebblestar had been kidnapped, and if Duskflame went around camp like a serene angel while the rest of the Clan worried themselves into sleeplessness, no one mentioned it. In fact, if anyone had needed reminding of her value to the Clan after Pebblestar's insulting public accusation, it was proven in the days where half the Clan stressed themselves into sickness. Still, Dusklame knew that her freedom had been infringed upon, and though she never gave any sign that she thought of it, the very idea rankled.

but that wasn't the point of today. In fact, quite the opposite. She wasn't sitting in the entrance of her den sulking about life's mysteries, she was waiting for a certain shape to appear. She'd been thinking of the tom for a few days now, considering, evaluating. She'd seen some things she hadn't liked, but others that she had. And, frankly, she knew that she was living on borrowed time. If she continued to refuse to find an apprentice, as soon as Pebblestar returned and heard of it - supposing she did return - then Duskflae knew her position would be very poorly. A prisoner who refused to teach a replacement was as good as no prisoner at all. If she wouldn't teach an apprentice no matter what, what was the point in letting her live? So this wasn't just the desire of a master to pass on knowledge, it was a play for her life. How high the stakes had raised.

but for now, Duskflame was content to wait for the apprentice to make himself visible. She doubted he was outside; she'd been up early, and she had seen in the cat a tendency toward laziness that she didn't think would prompt him to leave his nest early. Then only alternative was that he was still in his den. That was alright. Laziness could be burned out of a young soul, and it was halfway to be expected. For a youth who hadn't fought for every single thing he had, she didn't expect him to be the warrior she was. 

The she-cat kept her hard amber gaze fixed on the entrance to the apprentice den. If she saw his young head pop out, she would be quick to call his name. If not. she would wait, and she'd get his attention as soon as she knew where he was. but for now, all she could do was bide her time, and at least, she promised, she would do that well. After all, Pebblestar was missing, probably kidnapped and hopefully dead, and she doubted that Briarclaw would have the stomach to murder her Clan's only medicine cat because her leader hated her. She was in a good position, she could afford to wait. 

[Deleted]

Glorilyss

Rowanpaw awoke to the sound of gentle chatter outside of the Apprentice's Den. He flexed his paws and covered his eyes, groaning softly as he rolled around in his nest. He rose not long after, blearily studying his fur- He looked dreadful. After a long stretch and a quick once-over of his plush coat, Rowanpaw glanced around the den. He figured it hadn't been too long since the sun had come up, but there were one or two more bodies in the den resting easily. He wondered if they had stayed up late into the night dutifully plodding away at practicing their training, or were just inclined to snooze for as long as capable, as he was prone to.

Even in his warm little den, an overhanging sensation of anxiety hung in the air of Talonclan camp. Maybe they had been out with their mentors searching for Pebblestar again? He hadn't been there when she had vanished, but the shock wave it had sent through the clan affected everybody, even kits who had no idea what had happened. He screwed his face up and quietly stepped around them, leaving the others to sleep.

With the quiet crunch of grit, Rowanpaw sidled towards the mouth of the Apprentice's Den. As he popped his head out and greeted the morning light, he scanned his gaze across the expanse of camp, a drowsy smile spread across his face as he dreamily wondered what he was going to do. He secretly hoped the elders were looking for help- As much as the other apprentices hated it, he couldn't get enough of their stories. They could tell them over and over until he could parrot them back as if he too had experienced the occurrence as well. He hoped one day that he could do the same, tended to by apprentices while he told them of ancient lore. He'd never forget a word.

As Rowanpaw swept his attention across the bright blue sky and the lazily drifting clouds, he felt at once the sensation of being watched, the uncomfortable hitch in his breath familiar. He had felt the same when he was a kit, only to be ambushed and chased around. He could have easily batted them away due to his size, but that meant turning to face them coming at him. He would have done it, but the one day he had steeled himself for hours beforehand, they had left him alone.

In an instant Rowanpaw, now fully roused from sleep, snapped his head cluelessly around until he came to rest on Duskflame, locking his gaze on her stony look. Of course he knew who she was- As medicine cat, she was the figurehead of herbology, which meant she knew much more than he could fathom about herbs, poultices, and even spoke with Starclan. Being in a higher rank also meant she was  known just as well as Pebblestar and Briarclaw- She was important, but why was she- Well, staring so intently? Is she really looking at me? He wondered, his fur pricking in discomfort. The ginger tom stumbled over his paws on his first step, not breaking eye contact as he lowered his head demurely. Had he made her mad? Rowanpaw had recently snuck into her den to escape from the chatter, so it was obvious his scent had lingered, but he swore he hadn't disturbed any of her herbs. Oh, he was going to get it!

Accepting his fate, the longhaired tom broke eye contact and instead looked at the ground in front of him, padding over to the she-cat before sitting down so she didn't see his haunches sink nervously. "Good morning, Duskflame." He mewed, trying to shake the quiver in his voice. He sounded guiltier than he could admit, but he knew she had something to say.


((OOC: Rownpaw and Duskflae, bff forever))

[Glorilyss]

[OoC: super sorry about not replying earlier! I got called into work (on my only day off, go figure) and I just recently got off. Also, Rowanpaw is love. ]

Great StarClan, Duskflame could only wonder how the young managed to stay asleep for so long. She herself had long been trained to wake in the middle of the night, staying awake with the dawn while searching the starlit sky for signs from their ancestors. She'd often made do on minimal hours of sleep, her body toughened from the exhaustion of dreams plagued with fear. Originally, it had been the terror of not pleasing her mother; after that, she'd suffered from the nerve-wracking ordeal of concealing her pregnancy and planning what to do after her kits had come. After she'd brought her three kits into the world, she'd struggled nightly with guilt over her brother's banishment and questions of what lengths Pebblestar would go to to punish her as their leader had slowly nurtured the belief that Duskflame was the mother of the illicit coupling. When she'd been dubbed all but a full-fledged prisoner, oddly enough, she had learned to cast off her fear. Now, in its place, she had only a deep inner calm, and beneath that, a volcanic lake of ambition.

It was hardly surprising. The worst had been done: her leader had publicly insulted and accused her of breaking her vows to StarClan. Half of her Clan believed their leader and thought her a harlot; the other seemed undecided. The world that she had so carefully crafted had begun to tumble around her whiskers, and she fully knew that nothing would ever be the same. Even if she found a way to lead their minds away from the truth, the Clan would treat her with suspicion, and she knew she would never be able to trust any of them, knowing that half of them would do what their leader told them from their habit of sheeplike obedience and the other half wouldn't protect her. It was truly a hard landing from the heights she'd fallen from.

That all brought her to this pass. She couldn't stay in TalonClan anymore, that much was obvious. Would Pebblestar be content to leave one of her most hated enemies as a powerless prisoner in the middle of camp? No, of course not. And still, no matter what anyone said, she had the ear of StarClan, she was their mouthpiece. From her place in TalonClan, she could sow the seeds of dissent and doubt; if she was peacefully banished, she could tour the other Clans and tell them TalonClan's secrets. Duskflame didn't believe that Pebblestar would ever let her live, and while training her replacement might be seen as accelerating the day of judgement, she knew that she was playing for time while she did. Besides, Duskflame loved TalonClan, deep in her heart. She wouldn't leave them completely helpless; she wasn't cruel like Pebblestar thought her to be.

The medicine cat politely ignored the clumsiness from the young tom, stolidly keeping her eyes on his face. The display caused a flicker of alarm that she refused to entertain. A medicine cat had to be graceful and able to deal with even the most delicate wounds, but she was confident that grace could be drilled into a cat. She would do her best to leave TalonClan a good, if not great replacement, and he would have to learn the rest.

"Good morning, Rowanpaw. Sleep well?" The she-cat seemed politely interested, but she couldn't waste time on pleasantries. "I wont keep you long, as I'm sure your mentor will be waiting. Are you excited to be a warrior?" Ah, yes, the ultimate question. She didn't want an apprentice desperate for a life different from what she could show him; she needed someone who was content to walk the borderland between life and death, wakefulness and dreams, signs and speculation, and let none of it distract them from the greatest job at hand: the healing and guiding of their Clan. She hoped Rowanpaw would be that cat.

[OoC: sorry for all the typos! I'm on an iPad.]

[Deleted]

Glorilyss

"Yes Duskflame."

Rowanpaw nodded respectfully, all of his focus on the tortie's face. Duskflame appeared troubled, but that wasn't unusual. He had been but a kit when the medicine cat's own brother had claimed to be the sire of her kits. Had he even been born? Rowanpaw wasn't too sure anymore- the moons of his early life blended together in a muddle that he would rather let die. Ever since that chaotic day, Pebblestar had reacted angrily and sentenced Duskflame to a pathetic existence by restricting the she-cat to camp unless otherwise noted. Even then, she had a guard with her to collect the precious herbs Talonclan needed to heal its broken warriors.

Rowanpaw could, on a certain level, sympathize with the medicine cat's imprisonment. He often retreated to the area of her den just for the sake of release from his clanmate's teasing, basking amongst the scent of herbs that soothed his wayward mind. The thick perfume proved to be a quick cure to his anxiety, but even then it was fleeting. He always left the den relaxed, but never more than for a few minutes before something else stirred him up again. His life, in truth, was a mess.

As Duskflame asked of his training, the tom shrugged a little, the corner of his mouth teasing into a slight grimace of indecision. "Well, not really." Rowanpaw mewed, his voice kept low enough for only Duskflame to hear as he proclaimed his negative reaction to her question. Excited was the last thing he could say to describe his feelings in concern of being a warrior. Miserable, upset, resentful? All of those words danced through his head on a regular basis when the mention of his training came to thought. He wasn't that good of cat, let alone a warrior at that.

"To be honest, I'm more concerned with the elders. I don't know what I'll do when I'm a warrior- I don't trust another soul to take care of them like I do." The faces of those older than he floated through his mind with a certain whimsy. He didn't want to leave them to suffer the fate of being ignored by the younger apprentices. If he had the power, he'd ensure they lived a long and comfortable life until the day that Starclan came to bring them away, to which he would help them welcome that wonderful day with all of his being. It made him weak to think about another naive cat taking advantage of the senile to give him (or her) self more time to relax. As much as he loved to laze about in the sun, there was nothing that cured Rowanpaw of his laziness more than those older cats did. He loved them more than his kin at times even, turning to his elders when his chest throbbed in the pain of a panic attack that even his dam couldn't assuage. He lived for their stories. He lived for their lore.

"Besides, I don't even have a mentor..." Rowanpaw looked up to Duskflame, a little fraction of his heart breaking with the words that threatened to bring tears of despair to his grassy green eyes. "I don't know if I deserve one, really- I'm not very good at anything. The other apprentices make fun of my hunting crouch and I've rarely won a sparring match with any of them when I'm the attacker. I don't want to hurt them. They don't see me as any more than a punching bag because I'm so- Well, big and weak. Even though they don't hurt my body, it hurts my pride" The ginger tom lowered his head as he vocally beat himself up over his own shortcomings. "I don't even want to be a warrior anymore these days, just because I'm not good enough to help my clan."

Rowanpaw's emerald eyes flicked up again to lock eyes with Duskflame, his look just as intense as her had when seeking him. He seemed to slightly brighten up as he looked adoringly into the she-cat's face, as if trying to envision his perfect life. "I often wish I wasn't born a warrior, just because it just doesn't fit. It's like a badger trying to squeeze in a mouse's hole- It doesn't work and it's painful to even try. I often wonder what it would feel like for cats to look at me in adoration- To feel the sensation of actually being appreciated for existing instead of cats looking at me like a waste of food and time."

Rowanpaw deflated as quickly as his chest had arisen in hypothetical pride. "I just can't do it. Starclan has doomed me to lived the mediocre life of a useless warrior. I'm better off dead, then maybe I'd be more useful up in Starclan helping you to help the clan through this trying time." The ginger tabby tried not to feel sorry for himself, but failed miserably as he continued to beat his self-esteem into the grit, his tail tip twitching actively all the while, as if his self-depreciating attitude actually stirred a yearning fire in his belly.

((OOC: No worries, I had to stay at work all day yesterday due to an approaching inspection. Jeez, such a crybaby, but Rowanpaw has to be one of my most favorite chars to RP already. You should have Dusk molly-wop some sense into him. xD; ))

[Glorilyss]

[OoC: Oh good lawd, Rowanpaw makes me wanna cuddle him.]

If Duskflame was surprised by the tom's surprising reply, her passive face didn't show it. An apprentice who was interested in the elders? It wasn't completely unheard of; plenty of apprentices were just as entertained by elders' stories as they had been when they'd been kits. but to that extent that they felt the limpid weakness she saw in his eyes? That was different. She'd never been quite like that, exactly; while she'd had a passion for the well-being of others more than she did for patrolling, she had always had a touch of the warrior spirit that her mother had possessed. Still, she could understand the thought of being upset at someone being poorly cared for and alone; after all, that was the reason she was here right now, wasn't it? She couldn't imagine the thought of her Clan needing a healer and having none after she'd left. It was inconceivable.

She listened to the youth attentively, not vocally but sympathetically. If, when he lifted big, unhappy eyes to her face periodically, he had been expecting her to comment, she didn't; rather, the she-cat stayed quiet, letting him talk himself out. Was the overflow of emotion genuine? She thought so. Was it useful? It might be. He might be so glad for a way out of his misery that he would be willing to work hard with her. Perhaps this was StarClan's gift to her: not necessarily an outstandingly hard-working youth, but someone who would be eternally grateful for the position, someone who would be willing to do anything to keep his place. And she could certainly sympathize with that.

"Well," the tortoiseshell began carefully, choosing her words with care and trying not to appear too transparent just yet. "First off, everyone deserves a mentor. TalonClan has been... Poorly advised in the area of teaching their young as of now, but just because you haven't gotten a mentor who can teach you doesn't mean StarClan thinks you don't deserve one. Perhaps, just perhaps, they've been waiting for the right mentor to come along." As she spoke, she wondered if the words she'd meant primarily as a comfort weren't true. After all, she hadn't been ready for him before now; maybe this really was the will of her ancestors.

"As for hunting and fighting, those things come in time, of course. Even the most promising warrior apprentice can be disappointing, and the least likely candidate can be surprising." She knew the truth of that well enough. Hadn't her mother been so excited when her daughter was an apprentice? Hadn't she herself shown signs of true ability? And hadn't she crushed her mother's dreams by changing the course of her life forever? but anyways, she must be careful not to be too encouraging on that aspect; while she wanted to build him up, she didn't want him to turn back to the life of a warrior.

"Tell me, Rowanpaw, do you ever have odd dreams? Or stare at the stars, or hear whispers in your thoughts that aren't yours? Do you ever get the feeling that you haven't been given a warrior mentor because maybe you're not meant to be a warrior?" The older female's amber gaze gleamed halfway-iridescent in the light from the cave mouth, deep orange shimmering between the reflections of been and yellow. She looked half-StarClan herself, as though the scent of herbs and prophetic dreams had taken her a paw step closer to their ancestors already. She certainly looked like a cat of mysteries, the outlines of her body blurred and indistinct in the poor lighting from the mundane world beyond.

[Deleted]

Glorilyss

Rowanpaw couldn't help but nod reflexively. Her words had come from the mouths of several others in the clan, but nobody had the answer that he felt was right. Perhaps he did have a skill that just needed a good jump start. He wondered how it would happen and what they would say once he had shown himself worthy. Perhaps he would be made a warrior on time?

At Duskflame's question, Rowanpaw tilted his head in confusion. "Aren't those normal things other cats experience?" The ginger tom appeared almost frightened for a good few seconds as the realization sunk in, lowering his eyes to his paws to think hard on Duskflame's question and to come up with the proper way to answer. As this reply trickled out, he kneaded his paws in the grit, trying to gauge the she-cat's reaction as he spoke.

"I've always slipped up to the mouth of the cave to watch the stars at night. It's so quiet there- If you listen hard enough, I swear you can hear cats all the way across Skyfield on a clear night!" Rowanpaw spoke as if it had been as natural as breathing. He didn't feel like watching the stars was such a different thing, but sometimes he swore he heard voices off in the distance when the sky was clear and bursting with twinkling stars. It wasn't likely, but perhaps he had been hearing things after all? He began to doubt himself, but continued talk anyway, as if trying to rationalize his actions would help Duskflame find him a suitable mentor. As Rowanpaw continued, he wondered aloud. "What makes a dream from Starclan though, Duskflame? I thought that all cats had dreams, but not all cats dreamed of omens. Are they more different from the usual ones?" He prodded a little and furrowed his brow, as if something bothered him.

"I've had what I thought were strange dreams, since sometimes they seem, y'know..." Rowanpaw paused, trying to use his words carefully. "Alive. Like most recently, I dreamed of standing right at the lip of cave like usual, but I'm thirsty and hungry as if my stomach's about to eat itself. I feel my body ache like it's never hurt before and I stare out into the night for what feels like hours and hours, but I can't find the means to sleep. I know I'm in the same camp I was born and raised in, but at the same time I feel like I've never seen this place before in my life and it feels so alien and alone." The ginger tom prickled anxiously as he continued, his voice hushed. "There are no cats in camp in my dream- I crawl into my nest and try to sleep, but I don't feel home. As much as I feel my nest, I know that I don't want to be in it, but when I went to rise, I woke up." Rowanpaw shuddered. "I can't imagine what I would be life to live that pain every day, but it hasn't come again. I figured it had been that stale mouse hitting my gut, but could it really mean something?" A twinkle of wonder danced in the tabby apprentice's eyes, his fluffy tail twining around his paws as if to gather himself for Duskflame's reply.

((OOC: Gahhh, not the best, but it's a little bit of a transition. I dunno if you consider a dream like that too "much"? I can tone it down if you'd like.))

[Glorilyss]

[OoC: No, it's fine. As long as it's not dreams of omens just yet, I don't mind. After all, he's supposed to be a medicine cat apprentice, right? (; ]

Duskflame listened closely to the tom's words, leaning slightly closer. Yes! This was precisely what she needed! A cat not meant to be a warrior, but with a warrior's abilities. She had no doubt now that this was the apprentice she needed. A cat who realized that he was different? Sure, everyone in her Clan was special. but she needed someone... A little more. A little more in tune, a little more aware, a little more special. A little more ostracized? Perhaps. She just needed someone who was not the ordinary warrior, and StaClan was showing her that she was making the right decision. With these thoughts in mind, how could she believe that she was anything but divinely guided?

"No, you're right to believe that these aren't normal dreams. And they aren't just stale fresh-kill." It was time to take the plunge, to show the tom what was really in her mind. She'd have to be as honest as possible in the next few weeks; what could be wrong with telling him her thoughts now?

"Rowanpaw, you're not a normal warrior. You will not be able to complete a warrior's training, because that is not the life that your ancestors have chosen for you." she gave him a fierce stare, those half-luminscent eyes glowing brilliantly in the poor light. She hoped that the very essence of her ancestors wrapped around her now; she needed them to ensure that things went well.

"Rowanpaw, you feel alienated because you're different. I have been called by my ancestors to take an apprentice. They have urged me to give my knowledge to someone that will be strong for their Clan." It was now or never. Lifting her chin, her face blazing with the fierce conviction of medicine cats of lore, her eyes burning deeply amber and utterly vibrant with life, she told the tom the news that would, hopefully, change his life.

"Rowanpaw, StarClan have told me that I need an apprentice. No one has ever been right for me. There have been plenty that would have been right to heal their Clan, but I need someone a little.... more. A little stronger, a little more willing. I need a cat who will defend their Clan with herbs and tooth and claw. I need a cat to follow me who understands the strength of a warrior and the caution of a healer. I need someone who can walk both worlds." She paused. Would he be frightened by her words? She could have no half-hearts; her dominant nature would not allow it. "I believe StarClan has called me to teach an apprentice, and they have called you to learn my craft.


[OoC: Sorry for the shortness, I'm half awake xD ]

[Deleted]

Glorilyss

Rownpaw felt the doubt in his words ebb away the moment he quieted, watching Duskflame with almost the same intensity as he noted how close she had become. At once, she validated his dreams as something more than make believe. Rowanpaw felt his belly writhe. So he wasn't weird after all? Had he been seeing it all wrong? The excitement of being right brought the tom to his paws, a breathy purr coming to his throat for a few moments. "I'm so glad to hear that it wasn't my stomach all along." Mewed the ginger tabby, unaware of the bombshell about to be dropped onto his life as he knew it, padding even closer still to close the gap between them as he tried to guess what the medicine cat's reasoning was behind his dreams. Maybe he was meant to become a warrior, deputy, or maybe even leader one day! That had to be it!

Duskflame's next words did the opposite of reassuring him of his preconceived fate, the tabby's blood running cold as ice as he stopped, frozen in place. It was worse than he had imagined for himself. At the very least, Rowanpaw had imagined he would be a mediocre warrior at best, but to not become one at all? He was supposed to be a warrior- He wasn't able to become a queen and spend his day populating the clan like she-cats could. His only fate was to become leader or an elder one day. What else was there for him if not the life of a warrior? The downy ginger tom caught the flash of yellow-green just out of his sight, his own pupils dilating as his eyes soaked what light he could as he stared back, his eyes betraying the utter shock and dull throb of painful despair.

The tortie continued without skipping a beat, as if what had been occurring was as casual as a morning bath. Rowanpaw slowly started to piece together what he thought Duskflame was trying to say, wondering if he were actually dreaming. If he understood the words coming from the medicine cat's mouth, he might take back what he had said before about his worth. This couldn't be real, could it? Duskflame's words came out as slow as he could possibly interpret them, dragging along syllable after syllable with a trudge only the dead could duplicate.

"You can't mean to say-" Rowanpaw mewed in Duskflame's momentary span of silence, his ears thudding with the rush of blood as his heart didn't know how to calm itself. He thought he had heard her wrong at first, but he pieced the she-cat's words together again and again, his mouth agape in shock as his brain finally caught up to the present. "You mean it?" Rowanpaw's voice was little more than a hoarse whisper now, his body stiff as the mountains they called home. "I'll learn to be a medicine cat, and I'll talk to Starclan? You're serious." He brought his bright emerald eyes up to meet Duskflame's, his vision clouded by an intense sensation of nervousness, excitement, fear, and joy all in one infinite moment.

"I'll have no greater of an honor in my life than to serve you as your apprentice, Duskflame. Does anybody else know? How long until I can talk to them, well- to Starclan? What do you think they'll call me when I become-" The questions tumbled out of Rowanpaw's mouth without any means of control at first. He flicked his tail up and buried his muzzle into the plush fur, muffling his questions in his own pelt. He didn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to run and run until the thrum of adrenaline ran weak in his veins, he had no desire to stray even another tail length from the she-cat. There was so much to learn, and unbeknownst to poor Rowanpaw, so little time.

[Glorilyss]

Duskflame's eyes flicked momentarily to the space that the young tom occupied as he approached, carefully concealing her pleasure with a face as placid as a pond. He seemed to be lured closer by the very words she spoke as surely as if she was physically dragging him nearer. The medicine cat imagined that it was natural; it seemed that he was so desperate for validation, for a way out of the uncertain muddle that his life had started to resemble, that any words spoken from a mouth of authority would be taken as comfort. She hoped that, at least, she could give him that; StarClan knew that she could not afford to give him a life of ease from this moment on. If he accepted the position that she was offering him, she could give him nothing but her knowledge and her guidance.

In the shortened distance between their two bodies, the future spilled across the empty space like wild forests, vast mountains, endless oceans. Full of promise and full of life, they also held the unknown, the element of surprise, the fear of uncertainty. She hoped that such thoughts wouldn't discourage him. After all, in that respect, being a medicine cat was not so different from being a warrior. What cat in any Clan knew the taste of certainty? She doubted that it was even possible for someone that lived their life to have any true security. Life for a warrior cat was too filled with shadows and uncertainties.

The honest terror that she saw spilling over his face was almost enough to break her heart. Perhaps she should have been a little more careful with how she had worded that, but she'd intended to shock him a bit. She needed him to release any hope of a warrior's future; she needed him to give that up. Her ancestors - and, truth be told, she herself - had picked the ginger tom in front of her to be her follower. He could never fully give himself to the life of medicine, in her opinion, if there was another option. She barred one of the paths of his life, slamming the door irreversibly in the face of his hopes to be a warrior, only to twist around and open a new one. Wasn't that the way that it always worked?

In fact, compared with the fear and despair that she had seen on the youth's face, the dawning comprehension was as steady and sweet as the first gentle sweep of sunshine on the tumbled mountainside. She was glad that he had clearly come to his own conclusions before she'd had to confirm them; she needed someone who would be quick and astute. She didn't want a dullard to follow in her paw steps, she wanted a cat with a brain like a swallow, swift and darting. She wanted someone who would be able to find facts and solve problems even after she'd gone. She wasn't going to be here forever, or even for very long; she'd couldn't afford to train an idiot.

At that thought, she felt a tiny flash of guilt. Was it wrong to take this tom's hopes for his own life and bury them right before his eyes, then give him a chance at something that he might not even be able to do? Well, in his position, she decided she'd want the chance, too. If she was unsettled at the thought that she was about to halfway train this young tom, and then abandon him to find his own way and make his own connections, and all for her own good, she was very careful not to think directly about it lest the thought show on her face. 'Besides,' she mused, 'If I force him like this, then he'll have an unshakeable faith in his abilities and his ancestors when he learns what he has to know. It'll all work for the best.'

At his dumbfounded, stumbling words, Duskflame's face cracked into a gracious smile. It was amusing, and admittedly touching, to see the hope on his face. She realized that She was doing a good thing here, no matter how it would end. She was giving this tom something to work for, to hoped or, where before it had appeared as if he had only despair. The learning of her craft would give him the confidence he'd need in later life, and even if they came across some obstacles when she took him to gain warrior training, they'd overcome those, too. This was all going to work out for the best, she reminded herself. StarClan had orchestrated the plot; of course it would.

"Yes, I'm serious." Duskflame dipped her head to the young cat before her. There was still so much time between now and the naming of a medicine cat, but she had the feeling that he would make a good one. "Right now, no one knows. I haven't even told Briarclaw that I was thinking of an apprentice, but I'll make sure to let her know tomorrow that I've chosen you, and that you've accepted." She shrugged; it was just a formality, since she had very little respect or attention for the deputy. Still, the she-cat in question would probably demand an official announcement, and she didn't want Rowanpaw's medicine training to start off under inauspicious clouds. "As for speaking to StarClan, who knows? The medicine meeting at the half-moon is comings up soon; if your training is going well, I may take you. They may speak to you then, or they may not. And it's a long time until your full medicine naming ceremony. There will be many events that will shape you before then, and perhaps one of those events may influence your final name." She gave him another smile, to soften all of her words.

"I'm really rather relieved that you accepted, Rowanpaw."

[Deleted]

Glorilyss

Rowanpaw absolutely glowed. None of the other apprentices would believe it! As much as he wanted to run his mouth for the sake of his ego, he listened attentively to Duskflame, silently promising himself to secrecy until it could be announced to the whole clan. He only hoped they would be happy with the tortie's decision. He wondered if the deputy would approve of the she-cat's choice, first and foremost, but even then there would be little Briarclaw could do- Starclan had said it was his fate, just as fairly as it had been Briarclaw's fate to be deputy. Nobody had tried to take her place, right?

Rowanpaw went further to muse the idea of the deputy being needed to take leadership of Pebblestar were to be found dead. He hoped to make the best first impressions so that if, Starclan forbid, fate were to go that way, he would be able to help Talonclan and Briar... Star to recover with his soon to be learned abilities and connection to their departed. That was an omen he hoped Duskflame would deconstruct and not he. Even if Pebblestar returned, he somewhat hoped that she'd like him too, if not because of his affiliation with Duskflame, then for his desire to serve his clan.

Nodding, the ginger tom indicated his understanding. "Right, I'll keep it quiet for now..." Rowanpaw's attention slid back into the Apprentice's Den. "Will I stay here tonight, or would you like me to have my nest prepared before moonrise? I can wait, but it'll be like sleeping on an ant's nest tonight!" A minor question, but one he hoped would be the latter. As much as he missed the warmth of the other apprentices around him, he still preferred the musky aroma of the Medicine Cat Den every moment he could spare inside. He couldn't wait to begin his training either. Rowanpaw knew very little to begin with about herbs, like poppyseeds for pain and sleep, marigold for wounds- There was so much he needed to know beyond the basics that he wanted to start that moment! He hoped that herbs came better to him than hunting crouches. If he was even halfway better at that he would be more proud than he had words to describe.

As Duskflame answered the few questions he vomited to her, the ginger tom perked up his ears and listened hard. He had a half moon to prove Duskflame that he was good enough to attend the Medicine Cat meeting, right. He hoped, by then, that he'd have the energy to even make it if it meant learning all he needed to. His nose would be begging for relief if he spent all day and night learning herbs by scent and remembering their uses. "I promise I'll try not to- No. That I won't let you down, Duskflame-." Rowanpaw mewed earnestly, trying to give her some assurance in the matter that she hadn't made a mistake with her choice. "As long as I have you to teach me, I won't have any reason to fail. You're a great Medicine Cat."

(OOC: Shorter than usual, sorry.))

[Glorilyss]

[OoC: one thousand percent sorry! My boyfriend took a week off work, and since we don't have internet at the house, I usually just use the wifi at work while I wait for him to get off. He's back now, so I'll definitely be able to get on more often! I feel horrid for not replying in ages D: I also apologize if this is a little cut and dry and short, when I don't get to get on daily my muse plummets, so I'll be a little rusty for the next few posts.]


Duskflame watched the tom's entire manner change. If she hadn't seen the conversion take place before her eyes, she would have been hard pressed to say that it was the same tom. There was a completely different energy around the youth; while she was certain that he was nervous still, it barely even showed in his new posture. The medicine cat could practically see a physical manifestation of the obvious relief and excitement; it was like his young body glowed faintly from within, and the energy he was exuding seemed to disturb the very air, as though his emotions reached out and stirred the space between them. Such a vibrant example reminded her of herself when she'd been accepted as medicine cat apprentice all those moons ago.

Really, she saw quite a lot of herself in Rowanpaw; there was the anxiety and the nervousness that they shared, when she had realized that her heart would never be wholly that of a warrior's. She had fretted about feeling like she would be living half of a life, her body going through the motions, but not with the blazing spirit that the apprentices around her had exhibited. And then, of course, there had been her mother's desires to deal with: Appleleap had decided for little Duskpaw that she was the only kit in her litter that she could see as possessing any real skill. Appleleap had been something of a terror of a mother, and with those fierce yellow-orange eyes pressing on her like a paw print, then-Duskpaw had never been sure if she would measure up. The relief that she'd felt when she'd placed her paws on the path of a medicine cat had been just as strong as she saw in the ginger tom. It had been a way to get away from her doubts, her indecision, to run towards the life she'd wanted - and, of course, a way to escape her mother's overbearing influence.

As she viewed the new carriage of the tomcat and the life in his eyes, she thought with amusement that it would be impossible to hide such exuberance from the rest of the Clan. While they might not know what exactly had happened, surely everyone would notice the nearly-tangible air of excited energy around him? She doubted that they'd be able to keep their secret for more than a day - after all, in a Clan, where everyone came into constant contact with everyone else every day, the only secrets that remained were those that had been silenced and taken to the grave.

"Not tonight, I'm afraid," she replied with a sympathetic frown. She wouldn't have minded taking the apprentice into her den this very day, but she knew that she'd have to run everything past their deputy. 'Better her than Pebblestar, though,' she reminded herself silently. Briarclaw may have been warned by Pebblestar, but she doubted that she'd ever be able to harbor the same depth of unshakeable hatred for Duskflame that TalonClan's leader was possessed by. "We'll have to be careful to make Briarclaw feel like she's included. Not that she can do anything about it, really," she added carelessly, lightly shrugging one shoulder. Frankly, she had little respect for either their absentee leader or her moppet of a deputy, but appearances had to be kept. "After all, you're not just my choice, you're StarClan's choice! And whether or not Briarclaw or Pebblestar have the highest opinions of me right now, they've got to deal with me, and they'd certainly never be fool enough to argue with StarClan." The sharp look she shot at the younger ginger cat seemed to be reminding him that, medicine apprentice or not, he'd better not argue with StarClan, either.

Well, or their mouthpiece. but for a healer who claimed that all of her greatest decisions were StaClan-made, who could tell the difference?

Her hawk-eyed glance softened at the boy's fervent promises to work hard. She knew that he would be indebted to her, and that that would make him strive for greatness for a while, but what about in a moon? In two moons? Being a medicine cat was often less than glorious. Would he feel his resolve weaken after much work with little return? How hard would she have to push him? Not that she was concerned - she was, after all, Appleleap's daughter a warrior-spirited she-cat in her own right. Recalcitrant apprentices were nothing she couldn't handle.

"You know, being a medicine cat isn't all omens and prophesies and starry-furred warriors in your dreams. It's hard work." She hardened her face a bit, not as querulous as before, but not sweet and soft like a kitting mother. Now she was the stern medicine cat of TalonClan, wise and hard as the mountain itself, unchanging in her convictions. "You should know that from the beginning. You'll have to deal with nasty cures, mouse bile, and suffer strong-scented herbs even running through your dreams because you couldn't wash it all off the night before. You'll often have to stay up late, or come across ailments with no obvious cure or cause. Sometimes, you will have to hurt to heal. You will often feel helpless in the face of a situation where no herb will cure. You will see death."

Her eyes misted over, consulting memories pushed far and away that she'd try to forget so she didn't go mad. "Warriors see death only rarely, and then usually on in the heat of the moment, on a battlefield where all you know is enemy or ally, where right and wrong do not always mean as much as the fight for your life. but a medicine cat often sees death only in cold blood, and often times with the dying fighting their hardest to survive. You will have to learn defeat. You will never have kits of your own body, but you will feel the loss of each Clan member as though you had been their father. You will always have your ancestors with you, but you will often not know their wishes, and you must remember that they do not control us, merely guide us in our times of need. You will make many mistakes-" She threw back her head and laughed, a sound that was slightly self-deprecatory. "Yes, you will make many, many mistakes! but at least you will not make them alone."

The she-cat turned her gaze, frank and questioning, to Rowanpaw before her. "Are you sure that this is what you want to do?"

[Deleted]

((OOC: It's all good! I've been super busy with getting ready to move back to the states, so I haven't been super active either. My boyfriend and I are spending as much time as possible too before we are long distance.))

Rowanpaw wilted slightly at Duskflame's response. He knew just as well as she did that he could easily vanish into the den without a trace, but of course- Politics. There always seemed to be something in the way when trying to accomplish even the smallest, more meaningless tasks. Even feeding yourself came with its own sense of rules- not like he had anything against the warrior code. It just seemed like the struggle in Talonclan was more arduous than the trials and tribulations of the other clans that lay below. "Alright..." Rowanpaw mewed, obviously put off. He wished nothing more than to avoid any animosity between he and the deputy. With a gentle nod of the head, Rowanpaw watched Duskflame, his disappointment clear in his eyes. "I can agree with that. The last thing I'd want is for somebody to make it harder for us to train."

Rowanpaw wasn't as stupid as many cats thought. He wanted, first and foremost, to get along with his leader and deputy, and if that meant staying a few more nights with the other apprentices, so be it. He could certainly understand Duskflame's distaste in leadership, but that was not relevant to Rowanpaw- He was an innocent all the same. He listened attentively now, wondering with a little unease if his work would be adequate enough, even with Duskflame's aid. "I can do it." Mewed Rowanpaw, his eyes narrowed in his resolve. "If I can learn it, I'll never forget." His focused expression broke as the gears in his head cycled, processing the words he spoke. "I think."

As the adrenaline high started to ease, Rowanpaw returned slowly to his calmer self. "I wonder who I'll get to meet. I love to hear the elders' stories, and if I could meet some of those cats- Duskflame, I might need for you to hold off on letting me speak to Starclan- I might die of joy right then and there!" His attention wandered a little as he gazed into nothingness, snapping back into reality as the she-cat explained the none too glamorous side of his new trade. Rowanpaw tightened his bite, jaw straining as she brought up the topic of death. "The smells don't bother me-" He mumbled as she spoke, keeping it quiet as she continued on about injuries.

There was nothing fun in death. Regardless of what he had to say about seeing starry warriors in his dream, the soon to be Talonclan apprentice knew that each and every one of them had endured the inevitable and the tragic. He could back out if he wanted to, but there was nothing short of death itself keeping Rowanpaw from a life he had only seen in his dreams. "I'm absolutely sure, Duskflame. I can't wait to start." He smiled an odd smile, his mouth spread in a wide grin, but his eyes knowing, as if part of him squirmed with childish excitement while the other side truly soaked in every one of the tortie's words as if drinking water in a desert.

[Glorilyss]

Duskflame felt her heart squeeze with sympathy at the tom's clear disappointment, the way the light faded a little from his eyes. She didn't want to deny him, but while her position in the Clan was so tenuous, she had to tiptoe around power-hungry leaders and pretend that she courted their high opinions. The idea stuck in her throat like a tough piece of fresh-kill, nearly making her gag, but it was something she'd just have to deal with until she could make changes for the better. For now, she'd lift her chin and handle the shame of everything, but soon... Well, soon, they'd know her power. They'd be the ones asking her for her opinions, and not the other way around.

"Don't worry. Tomorrow night, after we've already told Briarclaw, you'll get a nest in my den. It's just for tonight," she added with a grin, tiny white teeth gleaming dully in the light from the outside world. As he continued to speak, she nodded Quickly, showing her support of him even in the acceptance of her body language. The she-cat leaned slightly forward, eyes fixed patiently on the youth, not even a hint of uncertainty in her serene face.

"I have no doubt that you can learn everything," she stated baldly. "Learning is less about one's ability and more about one's desire. I can see that you really want this, and so of course you'll work for it." She shrugged simply, not even very concerned. She was wholly confident that she'd picked the right tom; her only struggle was going to make him continue to believe that she had picked correctly, too, even after his first mistake. She flashed him a little smile at his excitement, remembering her own starry-eyed admiration and wonder at the sight of their ancestors. The first meeting was always the most powerful, but the encounters certainly weren't boring or typical after the first.

"No dying yet! You've got moons and moons ahead of you, and you'll need them to learn everything and meet everyone in StarClan." She paused for a moment, looking a little more reserved, and then continued, "It's good that you're certain. You're going to need that conviction later. Don't let yourself get discouraged. It's going to be hard, of course, but anything that's really worth doing is difficult." Letting a small lull fall into the empty spaces of their conversation, the older female straightened up. "Well, that's that, then. I'll let you do whatever it was you were doing before I stopped you." She rose fully to her paws, stretching her forelegs against the ground.

"I'll speak to Briarclaw soon," she called to Rowanpaw, half-turning to return to her den. "Enjoy the day with your denmates. It's going to be the last day you'll be sharing their path. Tomorrow, you'll be setting your paws on the same track that generations of medicine cats have traveled before you." She paused again, her head turned over her shoulder, and flashed the tom another feral smile. For a moment, she looked almost foreboding; after all, she was the daughter of a half-insane murderer. As they floated on the breeze created by her movement, her words stirred with a faint challenge. "I hope you're ready!"

[OoC: If you'd like, you can make a final post, or not if you'd prefer. I'll be making the thread where Duskflame confronts Briarclaw shortly, and I'll tag you in that.]