• little miracles

a s h r o s e

IT'S NOT ENOUGH TO TELL ME THAT YOU CARE WHEN WE BOTH KNOW THAT WORDS ARE EMPTY AIR

Morning.

The white she-cat stretched carefully, one limb at a time, careful to keep the rest curled tight around the dear bundle of fur that had stolen a large part of her nest along with her heart... and her sleep. StarClan's sacred toenails, it had been a restless night. Willowkit had been tossing in her sleep, and though Ashrose was no longer the light sleeper, exhausted as she was, she'd still been disturbed half-way to waking more times than she really wanted to count. Then the sound of a familiar queen's laughter woke her.
"Awake at last!" Dustbreeze? She was never awake this early... Wait a second. She blinked, took a clearer look out the nursery door, and her ears flattened. Morning? It was nearly sunhigh!
Well, that settled it: her dignity simply would not allow her to sleep a minute longer. She glanced over at the other queen and smiled sheepishly, then turned back to gently extricate herself from soft nest and sleeping Willowkit. At least she could let Willowkit sleep in: it was a kit's prerogative, after all.
"Oh, Willowkit's still sleeping," Dustbreeze smiled, dropping her tone to a more conspiratorial whisper.
The white she-cat nodded and returned the smile. "Don't tell her I'm gone, will you?"
She was rewarded with a warm, muffled laugh.
"Do you want something from the freshkill pile?"
The other queen shook her head, politely declining. "Quickstorm just brought us some, and the kits are eating with their father."
Ashrose felt the usual dull ache in her chest start up, but she smiled instead and excused herself, trying not to give in to the pain that threatened.

The freshkill pile had been newly restocked when she approached. Most of the warriors were out of camp, and their apprentices with them-- it would be a crying shame to waste such a beautiful green-leaf day. Oh, the joys of being a warrior. She was going soft in that nursery: she could feel her muscles decaying like ageing crowfood and her claws hadn't been sharpened properly in moons. And her mind, too: she barely saw any of the other warriors any more. Pearlflower and Opalheart dropped in once in a blue moon-- and when had she last heard any news that hadn't involved her sisters' romantic plotting, second-hand from one or another of the other queens? Ashrose sighed noiselessly. She didn't have anything against the others, of course. They were fierce warriors, every one, under any other circumstances. Maybe it was just the soft beds, the easy food: like kittypets, nesting down for so long took the fight out of a cat. At least her little troublemaker always kept her on her toes.

She chose something good-sized at random (Willowkit was on solid food now and sharing fresh-kill with her) and padded back to the nursery, lost in thought. Her tail waved uncertainly. Today would be another day of keeping her daughter happy, a task that, for reasons she couldn't explain, brought back her smile. She'd hidden some feathers and a few shiny bones behind the nursery-- there was a game in that, for certain-- and the other kittens would be sure to pick up the slack.

She tried to ignore the aching in her chest, which insisted on being felt.

OOC: Ahhh I know it's not the post you wanted, Sea, I'm sorry! (Truth be told, it's not the post I wanted either >>; -glares at Ashrose-)
But here it is! A post! Have at thee! I was thinking we'd set it up with Willowkit and Ashrose and then move on to Silverwing, but it's up to you!

Willowkit

Oh, happy day! The sun was shining! There were puffy white things in the big blue thing above her head, and most important of all: her mother was just about to walk back into the nursery.

Ashrose didn't notice the little bundle waking up after she left. Who would? She was a sly little stinker, but her mother loved her all the more for it. Willowkit got into her best hunter's crouch (more like laying on the floor sprawled out) and waited. The second all four of her mother's paws hit the ground, Willowkit leaped and thudded into her.

"Ha! Got you Ashrose!" Willowkit whipped around and faced her mother then began running around underneath her. In between her legs, under her belly, swiping at her tail...If one thing was for certain, WIllowkit was all WindClan with her running ability. She took a short break when her mother starting swatting at her with whatever was closest: a paw, a leg, a tail, anything. Willowkit looked around the den with her one good eye. She never let the blindness in her left eye bother her. She'd become a great warrior one day!

Willowkit jabbered on. "Can we go to the ShadowClan border today? Heatherfur said th-that ShadowClan warriors have claws as long as a mouse's tail!" As she peered through the filtered light of the nursery she saw what was dangling in her mother's mouth: her favorite.

"Field mouse!" She yelled triumphantly as she sat down to receive her mother's food. She waited patiently, but her paws just couldn't stay still. She hopped a little from side to side or her front paws kept fidgeting. As soon as the mouse dropped from her mother's jaws, Willowkit plowed into it. She took a huge bite straight from the belly (her favorite spot) and chewed noisily.

"Ashrose," she began talking with her mouth full. "What're those white things in the big blue thing above us?" She swallowed and took another bite, this one considerably smaller. She pondered on her own question as she waited for her mother to answer. What is it called? A blue-y? A puffer? A puffer would make sense because it had those white puffy things in it. Yeah, puffer was good.

She moved on to her next question. "Can you tell Sandstar to make me an apprentice already? I'm almost four moons old! And I'm bigger than most kits who are my age!" Willowkit mewed to her mother indignantly. "Aren't I Ashrose? Mousepaw said I was bigger than her when she was my age!" Willowkit puffed out her chest with pride. What would be able to stop her from being the best one-eyed warrior there ever was? She could start making her own battle moves just for her! Yeah! That was going to take time but she could do it! She wiggled on her haunches and pounced up at her mother, bringing her paws up and clapping at her whiskers. Today was going to be great!

{OOC: It's alright! I could have done a much better post too! :/ But I must say, this is pure Willowkit. Haha!}

a s h r o s e

IT'S NOT ENOUGH TO TELL ME THAT YOU CARE WHEN WE BOTH KNOW THAT WORDS ARE EMPTY AIR

Ashrose paused for a moment at the mouth of the den, trying hard to keep from looking at the kit crouched nearby, and feigned concern. Glancing through the gloom to the empty nest, she looked exaggeratedly around the den. "Willowkit? Where's my little Wiwwowki-- ah!"
Willowkit collided, and Ashrose flopped over, dramatically throwing her paws into the air. "Ha, got you, Ashrose!"
The queen grinned and nipped only the air above Willowkit's head as the streak of brown fur ran past. She could feel Dustbreeze laughing silently in the back of the den and grinned a little wider. Well, the two queens had never really been in the same forest, let alone on the same branch as far as parenting techniques went. Dustbreeze and Quickstorm had managed to raise three polite, well-behaved kittens. Ashrose, meanwhile, had raised the terror of WindClan's nursery. As the whirlwind of fur and paws seemed bent on stopping her from getting up, and on tripping her over again, it was delicate work getting back into the den. And Willowkit wanted to see ShadowClan, of all things! At the mention of ShadowClan's claws, though, she laughed and gently batted at the kit's head. "Yes, claws that long! And they like to eat little WindClan kits!"
Then Willowkit noticed the field mouse, of course, and suddenly the dervish careened to a halt. The treat had only to hit the ground before Willowkit attacked it with unmitigated gusto. As the sounds of noisy chewing filled the den, Ashrose's ears flicked in embarrassment, and she couldn't help saying, "Willowkit, what have I told you about chewing?" in the tone of a disapproving parent who would probably not comment if not for the others present.

She settled herself with her back to the other queen to hide her embarrassment, feeling distinctly more self-conscious than she'd ever wanted to.

But this was the part of the day she liked best: when the questions started. An inquisitive mind was much more manageable than a closed-lipped one, she'd always thought. Then a sudden flash of silver caught her eye and she shivered, glanced up, but it was only the glint of the sun on the leaves.
"They're called clouds," she said, shaking off the chill, "and that 'blue thing' is called the sky." She remembered being very young, curled up with her sisters on one of those nights between leafbare and newleaf, and her mother telling them the story of the clouds and how they brought rain and snow. Then Ashrose had asked if it ever rained without clouds and her mother had paused for a minute, shook her head, and murmured something indistinct about 'sun-showers'. Once again, information that had been deemed too much for kits-- though only a few moons later there was a sun-shower right over camp, and suddenly Cloudstep had had to make up another story to explain those, and rainbows, and why there wasn't 'sun-snow' and why the clouds couldn't just go behind the sun, all in one afternoon.
"Your grandmother is named after the clouds," the warrior added, smiling at Willowkit. "Cloudstep. Maybe we can get her to tell you about them some time."

There was a moment of silence (well, silent but for the chewing) and then as soon as the mouthful was down the next question came up. Ashrose grinned and shook her head once. Birds would swim before Willowkit stopped asking her that question. But there were always stories to tell, even when you were asked the same question every day for two moons straight. "But who would keep the other kits in line?" she meowed in mock horror. "Sandstar needs you here to make sure the rest of the kits don't get lazy."
Which was probably true, to some extent: Willowkit's organised raid on the medicine cat's den was neither forgotten nor quite forgiven among the queens of WindClan. Unfortunately, even though there was a lot of distance between 'not lazy' and 'infamous, unabashed troublemaker', Willowkit had always been a fast runner.

Ashrose saw the little glint of mischief in Willowkit's eyes a split second before she acted on it, but this was not enough warning to save her from the sudden attack. Two white paws batted at her whiskers and the recipient drew back in surprise, only to suddenly bring her muzzle into the kit's exposed underbelly and nuzzle her affectionately.
"Oh mighty warrior, tell me you can do better than that!" she cried, taking up her own hunter's crouch and preparing to pounce.

OOC: WILLOWKIT AHH YOU LITTLE BABY I JUST WANT TO SMOOSH YOUR ADORABLE LITTLE FACE.

Willowkit

As Willowkit munched on her mouse her mother scolded her, "Willowkit, what have I told you about chewing?" She made a point to turn her body away from the queen to hide her embarrassment. Luckily Ashrose doesn't stay embarrassed for long so she was right with Willowkit as she babbled on with her questions. A sky? Clouds? Oh! So that's why Cloudstep is called Cloudstep. She's so fluffy! Willowkit giggled at her realization. She puffed out her chest even more when she realized the responsibility that Sandstar had given her. She was too keep the kits busy and fit. She was like their mentor! After Willowkit had clapped her mother's whiskers, quicker than a flash her mother had nudged her to the ground and began nosing her stomach. "Oh mighty warrior, tell me you can do better than that!" She crowed. Willowkit laughed and laughed as she wrestled with her mother. Pawing at her mother's nose, squishing her cheeks and flopping her ears. She loved days like this with her mother. When she was willing to play and be an actual mother. There were days, earlier in her kithood, where her mother would space out or just completely drop out from her life for half a day (of course that was a long time to the wee kit.) But the other queens just assured the little Willowkit that her mother needed time to heal. Willowkit always wondered what she was healing from, but that was one thing she never pressed to ask. She felt like it was too touchy of a subject with her mother. She had been happy now and that was all that mattered.

Willowkit saw her chance and charged- right through the entrance of the nursery. The bright light hit her like a wall. The dim light of the shallow burrow didn't even compare to the stark light of outside. Willowkit sped through the camp, white tail streaming behind her, not seeing a thing. She ran straight, hoping to not hit anyone (or anything). Her hopes failed her.

"Oof!" She hit something hard...and bone-y. She shook her head to shake the stars from her vision. Yellow light shone through the cat's silver fur. The sleek cat turns her head and gray eyes the color of snow slush pierce her coat and make her shiver. Pearly white fangs emerge from her mouth in a snarl.

"You imp! I could shr-" The cat stops before her sentence is finished. Her facial features change as if she recognized Willowkit. Willowkit shivered in terror. She'd never before seen a she-cat who looked quite as vicious as this one did. But her eyes changed. They became softer, but not much. "Oh. Sorry Wrigglekit. I didn't know that-" Willowkit scrunched up her nose at the cat's misuse of her name.

"It's Willowkit! Willowkit. Not Wrigglekit." She narrowed her eyes and mumbled to herself. "I don't wriggle."

"Willowkit, then." The silver she-cat turned around to face little Willowkit. She could see the she-cat had an eerie grace-like way of moving. Almost as if she were a serpent moving with a sinuous grace. "I hear you're the new terror of the Clan." A dark chuckle emanated from the silver tabby. "Looks like I have some competition." She thrashed her tail and dug her claws into the hard earth. "I'm Silverwing, by the way." Silverwing! Somewhere, in her mind between today's latest activities and her raid upon the medicine den, she remembered that name, but she couldn't tell from where.

Willowkit heard her mother's pawsteps. Oh no! She'd been so engrossed in this strange (and scary) Silverwing that she'd forgotten all about her game with Ashrose! "Hide me!" She gasped as she tried to huddle behind Silverwing who was clearly uncomfortable with the arrangement.

"Stop it!" She hissed. "Your mother will be rabid!" Venom was spilling into her voice now. Silverwing was clearly becoming angry, but Willowkit stood her ground. Well, crouched was more like it.

OOC: Notes- This should be very interesting! XP Silverwing not wanting anything to do with the kit for fear of a "common" queen and Willowkit completely oblivious as to the danger she's in by being around Silverwing. XD This should be quite interesting indeed.
Word Count- 661. A fairly large post for me.

a s h r o s e

NOW ALL OF THE LANDSCAPE, IT’S JUST AN EMPTY PLACE. ACRES OF LONGING, MOUNTAINS OF TENDERNESS

The little scamp slipped right past her -further proof that she was getting soft- and Ashrose let out what could only be described as an amused hmmph as she batted Willowkit's tail. She did call, "I'm coming to get you!", but paused a moment in the den, counting silently. If there was one thing Ashrose knew, it was always important for one's quarry to get a head start, after all.

Five long beats seemed reasonable. The white she-cat let the smile curl into her features and her eyes shut gently. No, that was a mistake: the lull and the darkness were just reminders of the sleep she'd missed. There was a troublemaker roaming camp: if she didn't get out there and catch her soon, StarClan only knew what kind of mischief Willowkit would get wrapped up in. Unwillingly, the memory of the medicine cat incident returned; the she-cat shivered and flicked her tail in agitation. She had so much to be thankful for: that the kits hadn't raided the medicine cat's more precious stores, that the kits hadn't swallowed too many of the poppy seeds, that they'd been found as soon as they had. Nothing could have frightened her more than that day, she was sure.

There, that would do for waiting. Ashrose bounded into the sunny clearing, trying to shake off the gloom, and looked around the camp. A number of warriors had gone on sunhigh patrol or hunting patrols, but midday in greenleaf was the ideal time for the warriors to find some shade, enjoy some freshkill and take a breather during the heat of the day. Her claws itched -to hunt, to patrol, anything- but her mission was Willowkit. She spotted her charge straight ahead, just wriggling her way behind a silver warrior. Silver, and as full of that menacing grace as she remembered; silver from chilling eyes to needle-sharp claws. She caught the warrior's words, "stop it! Your mother will be rabid!", and the venom in them brought back nightmares of gentle strangleholds, whispered farewells, bodies cooling in the middle of a leafbare night: a cat that all WindClan, without knowing the truth, feared. Most kits backed away in fear, and even the warriors were never on familiar terms with her because familiarity with Silverwing was a sure-fire way to earn a backstabbing so subtle you wouldn't notice it coming until hot blood hit the sand. It's anyone's guess whether it was some defensive instinct or if something subconscious was to blame, but Ashrose found herself approaching on measured pawsteps-- and maybe her face showed a slight flicker at first when she glanced at those infamous claws, but the flicker was just that: the slightest of deviations in a face from which the smile had been wiped clean. Instead, Ashrose felt in her face the bitter chill that had crawled out from her heart.

A thousand possibilities flashed through her mind, the choice words she would say. Hundreds of cutting lines, petty jabs, useless quips and varieties of the common disapproving stare argued against anger and yelling, and in the back of her mind a tiny voice whispered something inaudible only to be set upon by the others and mauled unrecognisably. She should be cold. She should just look at Willowkit and tell her to come with her: the silence would say everything. After all, where had Silverwing been the three moons when Ashrose had been confined to the nursery? Willowkit was four moons old now. Seven times the moon had waxed and waned since she'd been removed from the warriors' den-- and she couldn't even remember the when she and Silverwing had last exchanged more than a glance.

It must have been late in their apprenticeship: the last big argument. There were things said, but things had been said all through that moon. What had been different was that Ashrose had acted on her threats to leave. After that, things just frosted over.

All this passed in a split second. She'd never been able to pull off the icy demeanour that Silverwing had worn like a second skin, but she had a stare as sharp and piercing as the thorns of the flower she was named for-- the temptation to use it was rising, but she held it back. And in spite of her heart thumping hard if not fast in her chest, she maintained her composure. This did not have to mean anything. If there was one thing Ashrose knew she wanted, it was not to have it out with Silverwing in the middle of WindClan and in front of Willowkit-- though she knew this was the safest place she could ever have that conversation with the silver warrior, whose claws frightened cats even on a bloodless border patrol. So she kept her eyes on Silverwing as she approached, smiling in that bland, placid way she'd learned from watching some of the queens. "Good afternoon, Silverwing," came the honeyed meow. Formal. The conversational equivalent of adopting a neutral stance, even as her expression promised a vapid cat who didn't suspect any danger: the purpose here was only to set the tone of the conversation. She had no illusions of fooling Silverwing into thinking she was dotty and gormless-- but if that happened, well, then that was one less difficult conversation to deal with for a few more moons. She didn't want trouble, not with Willowkit watching. She glanced at Willowkit, and for a moment her smile was genuine. 'Little scamp.' Of all the cats she could have chosen to hide behind!
"I see you've met my daughter, Willowkit."
She tried to keep her placid expression, but Silverwing and kits, her kit-- that was the real nightmare. She couldn't convince herself the fear was wholly irrational either: she knew why Whitestar had been a target, but Silverwing's parents, her siblings-- these were stories whose picture she'd pieced together from their arguments. How much incentive Silverwing needed to do harm was the variable she was missing, and that was why Silverwing still sent chills down the white warrior's spine.

Willowkit

Willowkit watched her mother as she walked from the nursery to Silverwing. Her mother's expression changed in that short trot. It was...cold looking. Willowkit just knew that she was in trouble. But what for?! Willowkit hunched over and tucked her ears. She wondered what her punishment would be. Hopefully it wasn't as bad as taking care of Cloudstep for the whole day. She cringed at the thought.

"Don't tell her I'm here, please!" She begged Silverwing. But by the way Silverwing went rigid as Ashrose approached, she might as well have just told her to give her up. She hunched behind the silver tabby and she heard her mother's voice.

"Good afternoon, Silverwing." The tone of voice was very neutral. Willowkit heard no malice that would surely be directed towards herself. But generally a purposefully quiet mother was more dangerous than a raging mother. "I see you've met my daughter, Willowkit." Mousedung! She thought that she had completely evaded Ashrose's sight by hiding behind this scrawny warrior, but she was wrong. Since her hiding place had been debunked, a kit's anger came out. Ready and writhing to challenge the cat who had made her visible, and that cat had been Silverwing.

"It's your fault!" She turned on Silverwing. Her voice may not have been filled with hatred and venom, but it sure was whiny. "If you weren't so skinny you could have hid me!" She plopped onto the ground in a pout. Oh what a mess this day had turned out to be!

Silverwing

"Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."" - Edgar Allen Poe "The Raven"

Silverwing's head switched from side to side trying to keep her eyes on the little fur ball that would most certainly be the end of her peaceful afternoon. This was Ashrose's kit. And with a kit the mother is never too far behind. Sure enough Ashrose had trotted out of the nursery with a smile of deep compassion, that is until she saw Silverwing. That smile that she used to wear when she was with Silverwing had disappeared quicker than a flash replaced by a stone cold facade. Silverwing knew that the anger Ashrose had for Silverwing was not arbitrary. Silverwing deserved every single ounce of hatred that Ashrose had for her, but she didn't want to admit it. She also couldn't let Ashrose know how hurt she was by her. Ashrose trotted up to Silverwing with a placid smile which only made Silverwing's heart wrench in pain.

"Good afternoon, Silverwing." Polite. Neutral. Formal. It was almost worse than spitting mad. Silverwing held back a flinch as Ashrose's gaze rested on her daughter. She could see that her daughter brought back that compassionate smile to her face. Silverwing struggled with the jealousy that was rising in her heart. Jealous, of a kit. She scoffed internally at the thought. "I see you've met my daughter, Willowkit." And that's when Willowkit started to whine.

"It's your fault! If you weren't so skinny you could have hid me!" Willowkit came from behind Silverwing with a glare and threw herself on the ground in a pout. Silverwing hid a snarl. Why was Ashrose allowing her kit to act this way? So whiny and...a whirlwind. She bit back the cutting remarks she would normally give a kit, but this was no ordinary kit. It was Ashrose's kit. The best way to get back to Ashrose. To get back to their friendship. The trust has to start somewhere and that somewhere may just be telling the kit to go back with her mother.

"Sorry." She said drily. "I've never been..." She trailed off as she thought of the right word to say, but the words only came up with painful memories as an apprentice. "Nevermind. Just go with your mother. We'll play some other time." That last sentence had slipped out. Silverwing pressed her ears to her head for a split second. Idiot! You'll never get to play with her now since you've said that! Why do I want to play with her anyways. She's just a kit. Silverwing shook her head. She stole a glance at Ashrose, hoping to catch her eye for an understood apology. It was never said between them, the words "I'm sorry." For anything. Since their fight everything had just become frozen. No going forward in their friendship, but they can't ignore the moons of fun they had either. Never going forward. Never going back. Nevermore.

"She's just like you. When you were young." She said. Her tone was the same as Ashrose's. Neutral and formal. No venom and no hatred, and that was really saying something for Silverwing. It had been so long since she'd had a normal conversation with someone. The mask that she always wore seemed to fall around Ashrose. At least, it seemed that way to Silverwing. "I wish I had one just like her." She said, and was surprised by how truthful it was.

a s h r o s e

NOW ALL OF THE LANDSCAPE, IT’S JUST AN EMPTY PLACE. ACRES OF LONGING, MOUNTAINS OF TENDERNESS

Ashrose stiffened when she heard that tone. "It's your fault!" At any other time, with any other cat watching, maybe she would have raised an eyebrow and made some light-hearted quip, but nothing was further from her mind now. Instead, her tone was quiet and firm. "Willowkit." She could afford to brook no argument, but great StarClan only knew how much of her fear she'd hidden. She wouldn't have Willowkit making an adversary of Silverwing. Maybe she had been too lenient with her-- none of Dustbreeze's kits would behave this way. 'But none of Dustbreeze's kits would dare to go near Silverwing in the first place.' Brave, foolish, no sense of self-preservation-- but she was just a kit; how was she to know that Silverwing was dangerous?

She didn't know for a certainty that there was the venom in the other cat's expression from years of sensitivity to the expression. It could be new-- Ashrose hadn't seen her often enough to know. But whatever it was, she didn't see any signs that Silverwing was going to act on it. Well, Silverwing could hide a grudge for as long as she had to. What did surprise her was the next word out of Silverwing's mouth.
"Sorry."
It was said with all the off-handed amusement that Silverwing exemplified; Silverwing, after all, had always treated the world like a joke only she was in on, and sometimes the world had even laughed along with her. But the word 'sorry', said to a kit? That was as far from a joke as she could imagine Silverwing going.
"I've never been..."
No, no she hadn't. Ashrose found herself looking over the other warrior with a little more intensity than before. Most cats wouldn't really think of their friendships in terms of difficulty, but in the moons she'd had to try getting over losing her friend, Ashrose had thought about it quite a lot. Silverwing had not been an easy cat to be friends with. Maybe she was just being cynical: it still hurt, all of it, from its slow and painful growth to its messy disintegration. Maybe it always would. But no matter what she felt now, easiness had never made anything more or less important-- and while she was rating things in terms of difficulty, well, Ashrose always knew that Silverwing's life, no matter what she thought of her choices, had always had everything to do with that word. She used to ask herself, when the revelation was as fresh and sharp as a thorn in a paw, what she would have done in Silverwing's position, with parents like that and a mentor that despicable. There had been plenty of kithood stories about friendship being able to mend all ills and cure all evils, but Ashrose had stopped believing in tales long ago. Nothing could cure a withered heart. That thought pulled her up short. No, no matter what she'd ever thought of Silverwing, there was a heart somewhere in that leafbare-bitter chest: she had heard its laugh, sweet and clear. Or at least, there had been once.

In the middle of their apprenticeship, things had been clear and transparent: conversations were held in voices as loud as as a shout, and as they had grown older and closer, shouting and laughter had made space to include whispers and smiles. Their language had become concentrated as they drew together, like the roots of two trees. Soon, a smile held the same potency as a laugh; a cold silence meant the same thing to them as screaming would for anyone else. Then the connection had been severed: the roots had been rotting, but they were still there. So Ashrose thought she knew exactly what that one sorry meant, just as she knew that Silverwing knew. She wasn't sure if she dared to hang her hopes on two syllables, but she wanted to.
"Never mind. Just go with your mother. We'll play some other time."
Silverwing caught her eye, and Ashrose felt her eyes softening as much as she dared. Then she caught herself: she let the softness in her eyes stay, but inside her mind was reeling. Melting, like a leaf-fall frost at the first touch of sun! She had to keep focused. She had to ignore the pain lancing through her chest, the ache that told her to forgive and forget, because whatever that ache told her, there was an equal and opposite pain that told her that Silverwing could not be trusted. It didn't matter how much she told herself that their friendship was a thing that could be salvaged: they had had their happiness and it had all been a ridiculous charade in the end. How could she trust someone with so much blood on their claws? Silverwing could kill at the drop of a leaf: if Willowkit so much as blinked for too long, the silver warrior could rend her from nose to tail if she wanted to. StarClan's breath! She would trust Silverwing in peace, because a calm Silverwing was the one she knew. But how deep did those still waters go? She remembered Whitestar; that death was the closest she could ever come to calling 'deserved'. But she remembered Thicketweed going missing, Heatherpelt vanishing with him, and she remembered in those long weeks some similar ones, from when she was very young, when two kits had also vanished into thin air and left a single silver sister behind them. She had put that rudimentary puzzle together. And she remembered still more long moons wondering how even as she thought Silverwing had been happy, that hatred must have been cocooned somewhere inside her.

"She's just like you. When you were young."
Ashrose held Silverwing's gaze, her expression quiet and thoughtful. Rationality would have her see the other side of her fears. Willowkit would do Silverwing no lasting injury, not of the same calibre that the figures from her childhood had caused. And Silverwing's killings had been methodical, planned-- but there was a first time for everything. If she assumed that that 'lasting injury' was the necessary factor for lasting injury in return, then Willowkit was safe; if the factor was simply 'injury' then Ashrose could never leave Willowkit alone. Her heart chilled a few more degrees. Of course, all her theories assumed that Silverwing hadn't already found a justifiable injury. Their brutally dismembered friendship, all Ashrose's doing: maybe that was enough to spark a new cycle of silent hatred. "She's just like you, when you were young." Did that mean Willowkit was an acceptable substitute? Ashrose felt her muscles trying to tense but forced them to relax. It could simply be an innocent comment. It was probably an innocent comment. There was no hatred in Silverwing's voice, which meant everything. And, oddly, there was no venom in her expression either. Where had all that anger from minutes earlier gone to? Silverwing's rage had been like a passing storm, and she was glad of it, more than words would ever express. In spite of whatever was happening inside her chest, she saw that neutrality, and something more instinct than reason allowed a small smile to bend the corners of her mouth. It was a smile still tinged with sadness, but it was a smile, and she had missed smiling with Silverwing. She wondered what Silverwing missed.

"I wish I had one just like her," Silverwing said, and Ashrose felt her reasons at odds with each other inside her chest once again. She hadn't known that Silverwing had wanted kits. The knowledge was like a kick to the throat. There was something supremely honest in Silverwing's expression that asked her to relent, to do anything other than be firm. The forgiving thing to do now, of course, would be to reply that Silverwing could come and play with Willowkit whenever she wanted. That kind of free reign was out of the question. It had been a long time, but she would be foolish to put away her doubts. She couldn't let herself trust Silverwing. What she could do was wonder at what turn of events had brought them here: Ashrose with a kit, Silverwing without, and a past StarClan would shudder to remember. And yet she had to confess to herself, she'd never seen Silverwing interested in any toms or she-cats, let alone in kits. Romantic affection had never been a priority in their conversations, not the way their fellow apprentices had talked about it. Part of her mind, of course, was still running through the possibility of Silverwing manipulating her, but her face showed only that same gentle sadness as before, because Silverwing deserved to be happy. Oh, who was she kidding? The white warrior was far too scarred to pretend Silverwing's admission wouldn't have a tinge of manipulation in it. She needed more than kind words to fix what had happened between them and she had no more reason to trust Silverwing than before. She would let herself appear soft, because after all, hadn't she always been the weaker one of them? If this was a game Silverwing was playing... Willowkit was the most vulnerable piece Ashrose had. If anything was going to be hurt by letting Silverwing have the advantage, it would be Willowkit. This was unsafe ground to be on.

"Like this troublemaker?" she replied, letting out a breathy laugh. "Oh, you'd be wishing for heartache," and the smile was one shared with Willowkit as well to let her know that this was a joke and she was in on it. Her face soft, she added, "It's never too late, you know."

She couldn't bring herself to say anything more substantial; even those words felt too thick and heavy, like a trap closing around her heart and locking her into something from which escape was not an option. Her gut screamed that Silverwing and kits was like a dog and sheep; her heart was composing books of all the things that she should say next. Instead, she just stood there, feeling like some exit had closed and left her utterly exposed. What was safety anyway?

OOC: There's a lot of paranoia going around today. A natural response to Silverwing?
I don't think know if Silverwing would willingly have told Ashrose about killing her siblings after her reaction to Whitestar's death and then Silverwing's parents', but Ashrose must have put two and two together, considering the circumstances of the first and third sets of deaths.

Willowkit

Willowkit threw herself on the ground in a tantrum. No one had ever really wanted to play with her today. It was all a ruse! Willowkit huffed and puffed and her eyes became misty as she realized that even her mother wasn't paying attention to her. What had she done? She was just playing and being a kit! What could Willowkit have done that was so harmful as to cause this tenacious scene between the silver and white warriors?

"Sorry." The silver warrior said. It was said off-handed, as if she wasn't really paying attention when she said it. "I've never been..." Willowkit looked up at the warrior with round, innocent eyes. The silver warrior was angled, and brutal looking and...lethal. But a thoughtful glaze passed over the warrior's features as she stumbled on her words. From what Willowkit could gather from the previously smooth-talking warrior, stumbling on her words wasn't something that happened often to the she-cat. The silver warrior shook her head and spoke again, "Never mind. Just go with your mother. We'll play some other time." Willowkit screwed up her face. What? This...this warrior wants to play with me? Oh my... Willowkit glanced from her mother to the silver warrior again. Ashrose had said "Silverwing" earlier. Must be the warrior's name.

Silverwing had given the subtlest of ear flicks and a glance at her mother that if Willowkit hadn't been almost glaring at Silverwing then she would have completely missed it and had been totally lost. Willowkit looked back to her mother and the same look that was in Silverwing's eyes was also in Ashrose's eyes. Something...sad.

It hit her out of no where. Memories of Ashrose coming back to see her after being gone for a while with her fur matted with dirt and thorns and the same sad smile that she'd give Willowkit when she came back. "Hello, darling." She would say with empathy that Willowkit could almost taste. Ashrose would say her hello and then a lick on her head and then Ashrose would almost throw herself in their nest and immediately go to sleep. Willowkit would watch her mother until she would fall into the comforts of unconsciousness. By then, Ashrose was so out of it that Willowkit would try to pick out the thorns and bits of leaves to clean her up. Willowkit adored her mother and she always wanted her mother's snowy pelt. It would break her heart to see her mother's pelt so dirty as if she didn't want to take care of it at times, but Willowkit would look out for her. When she would become almost tipsy with sleep, Willowkit would curl up in the curve of her mother's belly and try to fall asleep. Sometimes she would hear the other queens talking. Willowkit never made any sense of it, but she wondered at times. "Do you think she was out looking for him again?" One might say. Another queen or passing warrior would reply with, "Probably. Poor thing can't seem to break free of it. Mind you, she's got her Willowkit now and she seems to be much better than before. She even smiles now." The queens would go on talking and Willowkit would eventually fall asleep.

Willowkit shook her head to try and clear the memories away. She had to focus on what was happening now! She couldn't just leave her mother at this time with this strange Silverwing. "She's just like you. When you were young." Ashrose smiled. The same sad smile as before. "I wish I had one just like her." Willowkit looked back to Silverwing who was now looking at her mother in the eyes. There was something between these two she-cats and Willowkit just couldn't grasp what was happening.

Willowkit opened her mouth to say something but her mother cut her off and said, "Like this trouble maker?" Willowkit looked at her mother with her mouth gaping and an indignant look. How could she say that? She had been good all morning! "Oh, you'd be wishing for heartache," then Ashrose smiled down at Willowkit. Willowkit shut her mouth and realized that her mother was only joking. She didn't mean it. Willowkit's heart burned with love for her beautiful mother once again. "It's never too late, you know." Ashrose had said with an amount of certainty. Willowkit looked up at the silver warrior who just gazed at her mother with such intensity, but not something angry. It was more a look of...respect. Willowkit, innocent and fleeting, had become completely and perfectly lost.

Silverwing

"He consented; and when he was inside I closed the aperture,
and ordered a fire to be kindled.
“Receive,” I cried, “the due reward of your wondrous art:
let the music-master be the first to play!”"
The Bull of Phalaris, Lucian, 2nd Century A.D.

Silverwing knew in her heart of hearts that Ashrose would never allow their friendship to come back so quickly. What did she expect to happen? For each other to cry and say how sorry they both were and then be best friends and run off into the sunset? No. Silverwing and Ashrose don't cry to each other. Not out of happiness anyway. Many tears were shared that night long ago, but they were not tears of joy but tears of anger and hatred. Many things were said. Many things didn't need to be said that night. It was understood that each she-cat wanted to speak to the other only for as long as they had to. Secretly though, Silverwing wanted nothing more than to talk to Ashrose again. She missed their friendship.

Silverwing played very hard to get in this case. Silverwing didn't want to be friends with anyone. She wanted to focus on Whitestar at the time. Caught in by his promises of power and faulty love. But by StarClan that little Ashpaw was determined to break Silverpaw out of her shell. Even when Silverwing constantly beat her in training, or hunting, or anything and everything, Ashrose had never treated Silverwing differently. One thing that Silverwing had always regretted in her apprenticeship though, was never telling Ashrose that she was with kits near the end. It never came up and Whitestar's true personality was beginning to show through. His blood lust had flooded into Silverwing's nights in his den when he woke her up violently and sent her on a mission. A little apprentice. A little assassin. But she was perfect for it nonetheless.

That night, when Silverwing had finally had enough and did what she thought would be best for her kits, she killed him, and her kits. She fought with every ounce of strength she had. Every move was calculated. Every hit taken was one that was planned for. Her kits writhed while she fought. It was almost as if they were trying to help her. Of course it was ridiculous to think of. They were writhing from the pain, but that was the thought that let Silverwing sleep at night, but it's not enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

Ashrose gave a small smile. The corners of her mouth curled in the tiniest expression of happiness that she could afford to give at this point. It was directed at Willowkit, but Silverwing could feel that it was directed towards her as well. It wasn't the grins that they used to share, or the tiny laughs that they would fail to omit during a Clan meeting, but it was enough. Enough forgiveness for Silverwing to last the rest of the ages. Things may not go back to normal for a while for them. It would take moons upon moons for that to happen. Still, Silverwing couldn't keep going like they had been.

"Like this troublemaker?" Ashrose laughed and sent Silverwing's heart fluttering. How long had it been since they had laughed together? Ages. "Oh, you'd be wishing for heartache," she smiled at Willowkit then who was watching us the whole time. Her mouth shut and then closed her eyes and purred almost silently at her mother. "It's never too late, you know." Silverwing's heart broke. Too late. It's far too late. She hardened her heart to the tears that she could feel coming on. She would not cry. She would not appear weak.

"It's too late for me," She sighed. Silverwing licked her paw and stroked her own ears. "But I was never mother-material anyway." Silverwing felt so exposed. So exposed that she was saying even this much truth to her old best friend. They hadn't talked this much in ages and already Silverwing's walls were falling down once again. It was feeling almost like it was in the beginning of their friendship. Silverwing looked at Ashrose and gave the same sad smile. A small curve of the mouth with deep sadness in the eyes. It was all she could afford to give at this point.

Silverwing knew, she absolutely knew that things could never go back to how they used to be, but it doesn't mean that things can't become new. It had been a very long time since Silverwing had killed another cat. Very long time. Her siblings were the last and she vowed to never do it again. There is a difference though, between murder and wrong-doing. If you lie, you may not be able to be trusted, but you can be trusted to never tell the truth. If you're a murderer, you can never be trusted, for anything, and that's what Silverwing was. A murderer.

Silverwing understood that what had to happen next may be risky. It might even be a death sentence. But even a mother knows that she can't choose her kit's friends all the time. Silverwing bent down to Willowkit's level and carefully pointed her nose to the kit. Hopefully, the kit would get the message (and courage) to touch noses with the silver warrior. It was a common thing that you'd see a warrior being friendly to a kit and touching noses with it. But this was Silverwing. She had no interest in other queen's kits. But again, this is no ordinary kit. She is Ashrose's kit. "It was..." Silverwing struggled with the words to say. "interesting meeting you." Silverwing tried to soften her eyes, but that was something she didn't have much practice at.

The little kit looked at the silver warrior, then back at her mother, then back to the warrior again. She seemed to be contemplating something and then, after what seemed like she hardened her face (a show of determination) she thrust forward and touched noses with Silverwing. Willowkit leaped back and giggled and began to run around the two warriors, squealing all the time. "It was very nice meeting you too, Silverwing!" She howled. Oh, what an interesting kit she was indeed.

OOC: Wow...long post. Even more wow...Silverwing is being civil...to a kit. I am seriously falling in love with this thread the more we go. XP Absolutely love it!!

a s h r o s e

AND I KNOW I DON'T WANT THIS. I SWEAR I DON'T WANT THIS. THERE'S A REASON NOT TO WANT THIS BUT I FORGOT.

The white warrior felt a pang in her chest as she glanced at Willowkit, and the little purr in the kitten's throat meant so very, very much to her. If nothing else, she had Willowkit.

"It's too late for me," came the sigh, and Ashrose felt that pain keening through her. The silver warrior ran a paw over her ears; misdirection. Ashrose felt the same. There was simply too much here-- the tension was so thick she could taste it. These emotions were thin ice to be treading on. How could they possibly be behaving so cordially? Part of her was not ready for this level of veiled calm. Her memories of Silverwing might include a calm, calculating she-cat, but not after this much pain and certainly not after that much anger for so very long. But this was the stuff that peace was built on, after all. Ice could thicken in the cold and snow would settle over the top, hiding away all the mess and the pain and the dark, churning waters beneath. Given time, maybe they could even hope for spring.
Whatever Ashrose had thought Silverwing capable of, the pure sadness in her answering smile cut through her heart more cleanly than any claw could. She'd always known how to pull the strings, hadn't she? She could've had the other apprentices running scared even when there was no proof that Silverpaw was anything more than a recalcitrant, reserved apprentice. Silverwing had an aura about her, a coldness that every cat could feel if they just paid attention. That was not usually a quality that was looked for in a mother-- in a mate, for that matter. Ashrose had never been a particularly romantic cat, but she knew how this was supposed to make her feel. She tried desperately to wrest the feeling out of her chest: some kind of deep-seated conviction that she could give Silverwing, anything. The only thing she could think of were the old clichés: No, it's not too late. There's someone out there for you, you'll see. There's love for everyone out there. Great StarClan. His face ignited in her mind, his laughter brighter than the sun, and all she could see was those two blue eyes as luminescent as summer. The sweetness in his face came back with such force that her bones turned to crystal and shattered on impact; all at once it was winter again and he was pressed into her side, cracking terrible jokes about his old mentor, poking fun at her, spinning gold from frost. The wind spoke with his voice, that mellow key that made her ache with longing as piercing and harsh as stars burned out long before. Nothing fitted any more; the earth was dust and the air had deserted her; her lungs had seized; she was going up like a dandelion seed on the wind; she scrambled desperately for solid ground that dissolved even as she reached for it. No, that wasn't true: she had one fixed point. The little brown and white kit was still there, still, even as the earth spread out in tiny motes of dust around her. She closed her eyes for a second and, with infinite patience, put each mote back together. There. All was well, or would be. It was getting better.

Silverwing bent down and Ashrose's earlier thoughts of danger fluttered back into her chest. Her fears for Willowkit's safety were completely irrational this time: she knew that and squashed them. All the same, her heart was in her mouth as she heard Silverwing's words. "It was..." she noted the pause, silently tensed herself and hoped against hope, "interesting meeting you." Ashrose slowly released a ragged breath and felt the beginnings of a smile. She couldn't believe her eyes, but whatever was happening, she was glad of it. Oh, if this was part of Silverwing's ploy then it was a good one: the best move she'd seen in moons. Still feeling that the ground was going to desert her, it was all Ashrose could do to not shake as Willowkit looked at her, and she smiled (even as she felt tears in her eyes) and gave a slight nod. 'It's OK by me.' Oh, this didn't have to mean anything, except that this was Silverwing and a kit who but moments ago had been fighting venomousness with every sinew. Maybe Ashrose was getting romantic in her old age, because this one moment should not have felt so weighted with significance as it did. She had to keep perspective. Then Willowkit thought deeply for a moment, scrunched up her face, and touched noses with the silver she-cat. And as she began to giggle and dash about like a mad thing, Ashrose took a deep breath of the fresh sunhigh air. Suddenly, everything seemed lighter, cleaner. She blinked the tears away, as if they had never been, and smiled at Silverwing. This changed nothing, but it meant a great deal. It was a good move, that was all. She could respect that.
"I've never seen her make friends so fast," she smiled, reaching out a paw to lovingly bat a brown ear as it blew past. It was true, of course; Willowkit had never gone from pout to playful so quickly. Maybe the silver cat wasn't giving herself as much credit as she should. Maybe no-one had ever given Silverwing enough credit. Ashrose felt a familiar twinge of guilt, one she'd been living with -among anger, sorrow and loss- for a long time. Circumlocution had always seemed easier than acknowledging one's failures. She felt the words she didn't want to say trying to come to her lips and bit them back. Hadn't she just promised herself, moments ago, that Silverwing and kits were a dangerous mix? And now she was in a fix. She had never tried to control Willowkit's every move -controlling a mild hurricane would be easier- but if Willowkit was determined to make a friend of Silverwing, it would be laughable to start trying. Equally, Ashrose would not allow herself to simply ignore her misgivings and leave Willowkit alone with Silverwing. Only one option remained and, if Ashrose were being completely honest with herself (as she seldom was), the white warrior was somehow glad of it. Willowkit would find a way to do what she wanted; the safest thing to do was to be there to catch her.
"Do you think we'll come back to play with Silverwing again, Willowkit?" she asked lightly, in the voice that had 'playful' printed on it in block letters. And this time, her smile was shared with both Willowkit and Silverwing. Maybe her eyes were a little guarded when she looked at Silverwing, but it was a smile and it was as honest as Ashrose could afford to be. How she had missed this. How she hoped their spring would come.

Lyrics from Recessional by Vienna Teng.

Willowkit

Dodging a paw aimed for her ears, Willowkit spun around and stopped to stare at the two she-cats. She looked at them with wide, innocent eyes. Why was mother acting so odd around this Silverwing? And why does Silverwing act like she's scared to even touch me? The questions burned at Willowkit, but the mind of a kit doesn't stay focused for long. Eventually she was caught up in her mother's smile at Silverwing. Oh, how beautiful her mother was! Shining like a wet stone gleaming in the sun. Stones, stones...same color as ash.

Ashrose spoke to her and asked if they would come to visit Silverwing and play once more while smiling at the two of them. Oh, would we! Willowkit leaped and batted at the fine whiskers on her mother's face and said with pure enthusiasm.

"Oh, yes! I would like that," She then turned to Silverwing who looked back down at her. "Would you like that?" She asked and tilted her tiny brown and white head. Silverwing must have responded, but she was focused on something else right now. A shadow had just flitted behind the silver warrior. A very small one. Willowkit parted her jaws and tried to scent for whatever the mystery thing was, just like she'd seen her mother do. It smelled forest-y and very similar to the mouse her and her mother had shared earlier this morning.

She crouched and crept away from her mother and Silverwing. She could hear their conversation stop for a moment as they watched her move away and then continue talking about whatever it is that female warriors talk about. Willowkit saw a rustling in the grasses along the walls of the camp. There it was! A small pink nose pushed out of the grasses followed by a face with clear colored whiskers and two beady black eyes. Willowkit stopped in her tracks and waited for the mouse to come out just a bit further...just a little- that's it, just a little m-

Willowkit pounced and missed the mouse (who saw her coming several fox lengths away). Mouse dung! She pouted to herself and trudged back to her mother. Her mother would at least give her a lick or something. Willowkit was getting bored, but there were so many new things to go see! It was still a bright day and those puffs- no, clouds- were still up in the sky with the sun and it wasn't too hot outside. She just had to be imaginative. There's no telling what kind of trouble she could get into on a day like this!

Silverwing

It's gonna rain, It's gonna rain till the levee breaks.
A tidal wave of fear and pain carries us away.
Another fight into the night until nothing else remains.
How do we find harbor from the hurricane?
"Hurricane" .:.Thrice.:.

She smiled. Like a flash of lighting, pang of what she could only describe as hope ripped through Silverwing's chest. She's smiling at me...maybe we're not such a loss after all. Silverwing understood that they would never be the same. How could they? Angry words were spoken between the two when emotions were high and conscious thought was marred by those emotions, but the two had never been more lucid in their lives. They both knew the consequences of their actions. She also knew that the smile was shared with the newly bonding Willowkit. Then words came from Ashrose's mouth that Silverwing almost gaped at. She asked Willowkit if they would come to play with her again sometime. Another pang rang through her heart.

How was it that this little furball had somehow twisted herself into Silverwing's heart? Sure it helps that she was Ashrose's kit, but there's something about her, too. Something different than other kits. This one didn't cower. The disappointment of that revelation would have bugged Silverwing if this were happening when she was still a young she-cat, but the days of going out of her way to make others feel uncomfortable around her...those were gone. She was still a sullen cat with a tongue sharper than a snapping turtle, but now she didn't try to make cats afraid of her. But still the rumors shaped the views of her clan and her history didn't help either. Silverwing didn't care. What she cared about was this moment before her. This one moment that hung like heavy smoke between them.

"Oh, yes! I would like that," the little kit said endearingly and then looked to Silverwing. For a second Silverwing was looking straight into the face of a young 'paw version of Ashrose. Light glittered behind her eyes and an innocence as pure as spider silk hung about the kit. Silverwing smiled. "Would you like that?" She asked Silverwing whose smile became larger and more and more genuine.

"I would enjoy it very much," but the interest of the little kit had faded in a flash. Silverwing twitched her ears in annoyance. This one...is a pawful. Silverwing and Ashrose watched the kit for a second before the awkward heaviness hung between them, replacing the importance of the moment. Without any prompting or nudging, spent in a moment of pure impulse Silverwing let her walls down. She felt these walls crumble around her and she panicked. How long she had put those together only to have them fall in a second around the only cat that SIlverwing was ever sure she loved.

"It's the truth," she mumbled and looked down to the ground. Now was not a time to be haughty. She couldn't bring herself to say sorry. Sorry for what? Sorry for the words said moons ago that left raw and ragged scars? Sorry for keeping secrets? Sorry that she wasn't there for her when her mate left? Sorry for being...horribly...Silverwing? "I don't- I can't-," Silverwing struggled with trying to form any coherent sentence. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. Idiot! Quit sniveling. "I...Can we..." She looked up at Ashrose and begged with her eyes. Please understand what I'm trying to say. Please tell me that you'll try.