Fear
I wish someone would've told me it'd be like this. At a glance I was pathetic, addicted to the mere idea of acceptance. Look at me. Look at how desperate I was. The BoulderClan pariah, latching on for dear life like a parasite to stay afloat.
Circular, intimate, and caked in warmth, the great BoulderClan leader's den was a respite from the wintry chill of the weather outside. Not like it truly made an impression, however. Redpaw could scarcely be considered perceptive to such things at the moment, despite this being his first time to set paw into Crowstar's den. In another time, certainly one far removed from this one, he possibly could've indulged in a moment of whimsy or puerile delight at the accomplish. It wasn't to be though. His reason for being there was not a cause for celebration.
A heavy silence permeated the air of Crowstar's den. Thick, rigid, and oppressive, the immense quality of the pressure was undeniable inside the private quarters. It hunkered down against Redpaw's body, taut, like his fur was waterlogged, completely drenched and compressed, so it felt as though he was permanently sloshing his way through a lake of mud.
Tap, tap, tap. Crowstar prowled the floor of the den as strength pulsated beneath the glossy layer of his neatly groomed pelt. Each step sent a slight tremor rippling through the floor, dispersing into nothingness before they managed to skim the tips of Redpaw's toes. As he paced, there was an undeniable aura of authority and elegance about the gray warrior that seemed to dictate his very existence. He wielded them effortlessly in a manner that could only be described as with a lucid understanding of what it truly meant to be exceptional.
Crowstar halted, pausing to turn his massive head. His dark intelligent eyes swept back and forth between the two of them, inquisitively. Behind, a trace of dubiousness was floating just near the surface of his ponderous gaze. It was apparent the great warrior's mind was in contention, involving something dire.
"Oakclaw," Crowstar's urbane voice poured into the den, filling it with power. "Are you sure you're okay with Redpaw's decision? It doesn't bother you in the slightest?" he questioned.
Oakclaw stood aside, hulking and mighty in appearance, while emanating a disposition of absolute indifference. His terse response to Crowstar was a reflection of it. "Not at all."
As though expected, Crowstar turned away from the tabby without a second thought, directing the base of his total attention now on the ginger apprentice. Adorning a blank mask, Redpaw met the leader's sharp gaze evenly.
"And you, Redpaw?" Crowstar spoke after a breathe of silence. "Is this something you'll truly be happy with?"
"Of course, Crowstar," he mewed. "I'm sure. In fact, I've never felt better."
The lie shot from his lips like a spring. No consideration went into the words as he said them. If it had, Redpaw severely doubted he would've been able to do what he just did then.
Crowstar viewed his bland expression with a measured, calculated stare. Slowly blinking, his dark gaze shifted from Redpaw in favor of the lackadaisical warrior to his right side, standing idly by. Oakclaw glanced in the leader's direction, pale eyes partially connecting with blue, and gave the faintest of smirks. The wordless transactions seemed to confirm something for Crowstar.
"I'll need awhile to consider this," he meowed. "Besides that, even if I do accept your request, there's the issue of who would take over your training afterwards. You wouldn't happen to have a recommendation in mind, would you, Oakclaw?"
Oakclaw gave the slightest tilt of the head and hummed softly for an extended heartbeat. His eyes were averted to the roof of Crowstar's den, scanning it thoroughly, as though it might contain the answer he was seeking. Redpaw remained static, projecting a faux image of tepidness. He wouldn't react to Oakclaw's behavior.
The brown tabby's prolonged silence stretched on for several heartbeats longer before culminating in a loud pop of air rushing out of his mouth. "Nope!" he mewed cheerily, lively as a kit. "I guess I'll have to leave it up to you, Crowstar."
He nodded. "Understood. You're dismiss for now, Oakclaw. Redpaw, I'd like you to linger behind a bit longer, okay?"
Crowstar's request might've been phrased in the manner of a question, but there was no mistaking the clear indication of an order in his tone. Oakclaw bowed his head to Crowstar before then turning to leisurely stroll out of the den. Redpaw never once turned to watch as he departed. Even after the sound of his pawsteps had surely faded into the distance, even then, Redpaw refused to look back.
"Relax," Crowstar's voice slithered through his ears, snapping him from his revere.
Redpaw blinked several times and then shook his head, as though trying to dislodge water from his pelt. He felt a bit sluggish, like he'd just awaken from a deep stupor. Recollecting himself, Redpaw looked up to find Crowstar staring at him. What he found truly noteworthy about the leader's gaze on him though, was the transparent display of worry present in them.
"Redpaw, what's this all about?" Crowstar asked, the concern in his voice just as potent as the one in his eyes. "You come to me in the dead of night after the gathering and ask to no longer have Oakclaw be your mentor. I press him the next morning for answers and he's just as uncooperative. What's occurred between the two of you?"
Probed by Crowstar's question, it was suddenly like a dam collapsing in on itself, as all the emotions and memory from the encounter with Brackentail and Oakclaw sent everything crashing down on him in a disconcerting tumult of feelings that coalesced into a massive boulder and then bashed viciously into him without care. It loosened his tongue and feeling liked he'd suffocate under all the pounding weight of it if he didn't do something immediately, Redpaw admitted the first thing that came careening out his mouth.
"Oakclaw is Cedarshade's kin."
Surprise flickered in Crowstar's eyes. "Did Oakclaw tell you that?"
Redpaw momentarily considered not telling the truth. "No, Brackentail did."
The great leader's eyes narrowed hard. "When did this happen?"
"Before everyone left for the gathering," he said meekly.
Crowstar's body went rigid. A heartbeat later, he was plopping down hard in front of Redpaw and locking the ginger cat under a feverish stare that made him instinctively shy away due to its intensity.
"Explain everything," Crowstar said slow and clearly, before adopting a softer tone and adding, "From the beginning if you would, Redpaw."
Faced with no other alternatives, he detailed the sequence of events to Crowstar from that night. Honestly, he felt grateful to the gray pelted warrior. Forced to contain it in his head had nearly driven him mad in just a day. Crowstar listened with rapt attention, his eyes never straying from Redpaw even once the entire time that he spoke.
The conversation slid onto a tangent from there as, the more and more he spoke, the more incensed and spite riddled Redpaw became. Without noticing it, he had took to pacing around the length of the den, outwardly fuming with what felt like moons of compiled frustration and disappointment intermixed to create the most severe of disconcert within him.
"What am I doing wrong, Crowstar?" he demanded of the leader, his fur bristling out in the process. "He said I could one day be a cat that he needed, but how can that be true when he won't even try to connect with me? I'm the one always reaching out!" Redpaw ranted out loud. "Always! Is this just some game to him? Why train me then? If the fact we're related means absolutely nothing to him then why did he volunteer to be my mentor?"
In a rage, Redpaw unsheathed his claws and sank them into the soft carpet of the floor, gouging deep and angry scars into it. Not feeling satisfied with that, he started to beat the floor with his paws then, slamming one after the other in tandem. Redpaw gritted his teeth together, ignoring the pulsating thud of pain as he continued. All while this occurred Crowstar simply sat in muted silence, watching without interruption. If Redpaw had been paying attention at all then, he would've noticed the deep sorrow reflected in the proud tom's eyes.
"I'm trying so hard," Redpaw cried out in anguish, beating the floor to exhaustion. "I want to understand him. I feel like if he'd just tell me, let me in, that any explanation he gave me would make perfect sense. And even if it didn't, I would still accept it as truth. I'd accept it because he finally decided to talk to me honestly. He won't though. He won't. So what other choice do I have? You saw him just now. He hardly reacted to relinquishing my apprenticeship. It was so casual to him. How can I be around a cat like that, knowing that he keeps this bramble wall of distance between us? It's not worth it."
His frantic, impassioned words rebounded off of the circular walls, knocking back at him with the reverb of his own pain. Tremors rocked Redpaw's body as he pressed his face into the floor of the den, trembling. Haggardness wafted off of him in waves, circulating his prone form in a cloying ring of exhaustion. Where was the shining light of hope to lead him on? What was his purpose to keep going on? If he couldn't connect with Oakclaw, a tom that shared his literal blood, what hope did he have with the rest of the Clan?
I'm done pretending nothing's wrong. I'm sick of being kept at a difference. I'm sick of secrets!
Yes secrets. Secrets were the reason for why he was feeling the way he was. No more then, Redpaw convinced himself. Pushing himself back up, Redpaw brought his dull gaze up to boldly look Crowstar in the face. There was one more left. Just one.
"I'm ready," he said resolutely. "Tell me the truth about why the Clan hates me. I might as well finally know why."
The sorrowful expression hadn't left Crowstar's face. He just sat there quietly staring at him, the dark pools of his blue eyes a bottomless pool of pity for the tortured young tom before him. What must he be thinking at that point, knowing such strife went on under his own watch, Redpaw thought.
"Are you sure?" Crowstar asked softly, keeping steady eye contact with him. "You don't seem in a state to hear a story like that right now. Why not wait to settle down and get your feelings in check?"
"I deserve to know. You said so yourself," Redpaw countered.
Crowstar bowed his head low. "That I did."
Finally. After moons as a lonely and displaced kit to a frustrated and anxious apprentice, I was finally getting the answer to the biggest mystery of my young life. This wasn't the way I'd envisioned asking Crowstar though. Near rock bottom at that point, I was asking to have my heart destroyed.
Crowstar sighed and then resettled himself on the floor. With a flick of the tail, he indicated Redpaw to do the same. He'd been standing, unable to sit still after ranting about Oakclaw. Given an order to do so now and not wanting to disrespect Crowstar, he closed his mouth and then sat neatly down in front of the gray tom. Crowstar gave a nod of approval.
"It started when a outsider was discovered incapacitated on our territory by Cedarshade and Oakclaw," he began. "They'd just been made warriors, probably holding the titles no less than a moon at best, and they were out exploring together when they found him near death, incredibly malnourished and delirious. There was an argument between them over how to deal with it. Cedarshade being the sort of cat that she was wanted to immediately bring the unconscious tom back to camp in the hopes his life may be spared. Oakclaw opposed the decision. The cat wasn't the responsibility of BoulderClan nor was he a Clan cat, so in reality they had no obligation to save him. I guess it was through a stroke of luck or maybe just the fact that she's infinitely stubborn, Cedarshade was able to get her way and Oakclaw reluctantly helped to carry the tom back to camp. Cedarshade had done a lot of things in her time to upset or offend members of the Clan, but dragging back home a half dead outsider had to top it all."
He could imagine. Clan life was going on normal as it always had and then here came Cedarshade and Oakclaw bringing in a foreigner on the brink of starvation. Just the sight of seeing something so outrageous as that was enough to make Redpaw understand what the reaction was like.
"There was a long talk about what to do with him. Most of the Clan were in favor of Oakclaw's idea to leave him to his own, but that only worked to infuriate Cedarshade. She yowled and stamped her paws and made quite the raucous about how cruel it would be to abandon someone in need. The medicine cat, being taught and brought up to not discriminate against any cat in need, ultimately ended up siding with Cedarshade, ending the debate. The strange tom remained under the medicine cat's watch for half a moon. During that time Cedarshade would visit him constantly, sometimes several times a day. Partly, I think she saw it as her duty to oversee the health of a cat's who life she helped to save. On the other side of that I think it was because he interested her."
Redpaw's ears perked up at that. "What do you mean he interested her?" he asked curiously, leaning slightly forward.
Crowstar screwed his face up thoughtfully as his tail began to lightly swing to and fro behind him. "Cedarshade had a fascination for the unknown and new things, and the tom was a incredibly peculiar. Outside of the fact that he didn't actually have a name of his own for us to call him by, his left ear was marked and covered by some kind of strange thing. And no," he added, noticing Redpaw motion to open his mouth, "we don't know what it was. None of us could remove it without removing his ear entirely, so we let it remain as it was. Outside of giving him a slightly odd appearance, the thing didn't seem to bring him any discomfort."
"Did he ever say where he was from?" Redpaw asked.
A troubling look took hold of Crowstar's face that almost made him regret asking. "That's originally where the problems started. According to him, he had no recollection of much past collapsing out on our territory. Most didn't believe him. If I'm being honest here, Cedarshade might've been the only cat in camp that did. He wasn't a kittypet, but it was clear that he'd had experience in some sort of captivity. It was one of the reasons Oakclaw thought he was withholding information. That and probably the amount of time that he and Cedarshade were spending together. Oakclaw very much opposed it. They had several arguments about it that could be heard from one side of the camp to the other. No matter how much he spoke out against it though, Cedarshade continued to do as she pleased, and for awhile things stayed fairly quiet."
Redpaw looked at Crowstar in alarm as he petered off into silence. Had he done something to offend him? Before his imagination could run wild and get the better of him, Crowstar reassured him with a brief smile.
"Don't worry," he said. "I was just lost in thought wondering how to tell this next part. It's something you and none of the other apprentices know about. Not a single one of you. You weren't alive to know and the older cats are barred from speaking of it." Crowstar exhaled deeply before resettling himself once. Whatever it was that had him on edge must've been big, Redpaw thought. "This place," the warrior indicated to the den floor, "this camp that you've called home for so many moons, you and the other apprentices, is not the original home of BoulderClan. Oakclaw, your mother, I and the rest of the warriors were not born here."
The great tom paused to allow the stunning revelation time to register. Dully, Redpaw sat there trying to put together a coherent stream of words to ask a proper question. Different emotions flared in him dissuading every one that he would consider. Swallowing away the misgivings that continued to plague him, Redpaw forced himself to ask the question he knew Crowstar was awaiting.
"What happened?"
Crowstar sat quietly, his eyes dim and sightless, staring far off into the past. "Disaster, Redpaw. A strange noise was what started it. In the midst of the night a faint, but repeated popping sound began to emit in camp. We scoured every den and bush in camp in search of it before Oakclaw discovered that it was actually coming from the outsider. He cornered him in the middle of camp demanding to know what the sound was, but the outsider pleaded ignorance. Cedarshade came to his defense, but Oakclaw dismissed her, proclaiming to the Clan that we should get rid of the tom. Our leader at the time, Nettlestar, decreed a meeting to answer the Clan's issues with the tom's presence. It never came to be thanks to what happened next. It was sudden and violent. No warning, no alarm, just immediate confusion and then panic. I don't remember how many there were. One moment it's a bit after dawn and cats are lazily striding around camp, and next twolegs are crashing through our walls, destroying them completely, chasing after cats. It was pure chaos."
Terror filled Redpaw's heart and he gasped out loud. Twolegs? That sounded like some sort of nightmare or old tale that the elders would tell to kits. He'd heard scarce details about the pale faced, no fur, upwalkers, but had never actually seen one. As far as he was aware they didn't exist anywhere remotely near the forest.
"How is that possible?" Redpaw questioned Crowstar, vehemently, shooting to his paws. "Where did they come from? There aren't supposed to be any twolegs. There-" he froze mid-speech, catching the look on Crowstar's face. His heart skipped a beat. "No. He didn't-that cat wasn't the cause, was he?"
"In the aftermath that's what everyone came to believe. It was too coincidental to not be the case. A strange noise starts coming from him and then the very next day our walls are being knocked down by scores of twolegs? They're convinced he sent them. The twolegs ran rampant about our camp, tearing through dens and grabbing cats by the scruff of their necks, hauling them yowling into the air, before disappearing into the forest with them. Mothers were taken from their kits, kin from kin, mate from mate, and Clanmate from Clanmate. More than half of the Clan was whisked away that day. It was as though the world had ended. The only survivors were those of us that had managed to getaway and run from camp. I'm ashamed to this very day to admit that, despite being the deputy at the time, I also ran, leaving my Clanmates as prey."
Grief washed over the gray warrior's features. A morbid hush fell over the two toms, momentarily, while the BoulderClan leader inhaled deeply to recompose himself.
"I don't remember how long I stayed hidden out in the forest. At some point I must've decided it was safe and slowly slunk my way back to discover the decimated remains of our home. We could scarcely be considered a Clan with how dwindled our numbers were then. Nettlestar had been taken along with most of our warriors, and several apprentices as well. I took charge as best I could and in trying to round up all who remained we stumbled across Oakclaw. Apparently he hadn't been one to run. He, along with Cedarshade, had actually chased after the twolegs in an attempt to get our taken Clanmates back. Brave but impossibly mousebrained on their behalf. Cedarshade got captured and he got hurt, and our Clanmates were lost forever. Although there was absolutely nothing he could've done to prevent it Oakclaw blamed himself for all of it. The guilt was so strong that he took it upon himself to have the remains of our old camp be dedicated as a burial site to all the missing cats, despite the fact that there were none to bury."
'Some cats very near and dear to me are buried here. I personally recommended and oversaw that they be laid to rest in this area. Every night I make the trek here to pay my respects to their memory and legacies. It's the very I can do.'
Constricting, Redpaw's throat grew a tight lump. It all came full circle now. The solitary, lone back of Oakclaw standing in what was once the home he'd grown up in with the memory that half the cats he'd known were gone. It was all gone and the outsider was at the center of it all.
"We've finally arrived to the heart of where you come in, Redpaw," Crowstar said, watching him closely. "I say none of the taken cats ever returned, but that's not entirely true. Several moons later, after we'd relocated to this new camp and started to repair our lives, one cat did miraculously come back. Your mother, Redpaw. After all that time she had managed to escape and track us all the way down at our new camp." Crowstar's eyes suddenly cast downward. "Things were different now though. She was different. Whatever she'd been forced to endure while with the twolegs had done something to her. Listless, sickly, and barely able to speak, she was a shadow of the energetic and curious she-cat we'd known. Regardless of condition though, I was still overjoyed to have her back. Unfortunately, I was unable to predict the deep seated resentment directed at her by the Clan. They blamed her for being the one to bring the outsider into our home. They blamed her for being the only taken to come back. She was shunned completely, ignored by all, including Oakclaw. He, well, Oakclaw had changed as well, being near unrecognizable from the tom I'd once known. It was a few moons into having Cedarshade back that it was discovered she was pregnant. No one really paid much attention to it outside of that until the birth occurred."
Reflexively, Redpaw's muscles tightened and a trickle of fear ran down his spine. Why was that? The growing pit in his stomach hinted at something foreboding, but why? Why was he suddenly riddled with such anxiety?
"A riot nearly ensued. The Clan wanted Cedarshade and you tossed to the wilderness. They wanted you so far gone that it'd be impossible for you to ever find your way back. When you were born, Redpaw, it was like he had come back to haunt us all. All of them and, regretfully so, even myself feared that you may possess the same ability. That somehow you could summon the twolegs to attack us again and destroy our home. The outsider did it so what was to say that his son, who was the spitting image of him, couldn't do the same?"
He sat frozen in place, feeling as though the ground had just vanished from beneath his paws. Blood pounded in Redpaw's ears, obscuring the sound of his lungs shriveling up like all of the air had just been snatched from them. So this was the reason? Some part of him screamed out, hoping desperately that somehow, someway, he could make it untrue if he just believed hard enough. This entire time he'd spent his life cherishing the idea that one day he might be recognized as a full fledged BoulderClan cat, and now it was being revealed to him that it was never an option to begin with.
"This is why all the warriors refused to mentor you," Crowstar admitted ruefully, staring at Redpaw with sad tired eyes. "They didn't want to be alone with you. They refused to run the risk of venturing out to train you and never come back. They didn't want to become another taken cat. They didn't hate you, Redpaw, at least that wasn't the primal drive behind how they treated you. This entire time everyone from the queens, elders, and warriors have been scared of you. Not of who you are, not of what you've personally done, but what you might do one day. This is all based on fear. The fear of a possibility that has no basis in my opinion. I've come to see that day a lot differently now and I honestly don't believe your father had any control over those twolegs arriving in our home. As I think back to the incident now, he truly seemed just as shocked and terrified as the rest of us. Fear isn't something you fake. I've seen your Clanmates enraptured by it since your birth enough to know. Whatever the connection was between him and the twolegs it'd been established without his knowledge before he ever set paw in our forest. Cedarshade died not long after and I've done my best since then to dispel the Clan's misgivings. As I'm sure you know from your time spent growing up it didn't go as planned and I faced much resistance. I kept at it though by fighting for your place to remain in camp and prove your own worth. Against much protest I made you a apprentice and thankfully Oakclaw took reign as your mentor. To help combat their fear even more, on my orders, I had Swiftstep take you out on group with the other apprentices to train. I wanted the older cats to see that you could safely be left alone with others and nothing happen."
Crowstar crouched low and then leaned forward until there were only a few whiskers length separating he and Redpaw. The great leader's imploring blue eyes poured into his and Redpaw became lost in them.
"Don't you see, Redpaw?" he mewed beseechingly. "You've come so far already, despite everything that's against you. I've never been more astounded by a single cat in my life with your level of perseverance. Don't give up now. I'll do my part and speak to Oakclaw in private. And I mean really speak to him. So for now please reconsider your original choice for a new mentor. Cedarshade would want you two united. For her, seeing her closest kin divided would sadden her. You owe it to yourself to see this all the way through and show everyone that their fear is misplaced. On the outside you may look like your father, the outsider, but on the inside you're a BoulderClan cat through and through."
I left Crowstar's den soon after in a daze. My ears were ringing incessantly with the story of my past, repeating on an endless loop inside my own mind. I'd never felt more empty than I did at any point in my life. There was so much to unpack, so many sleepless late nights ahead of this toiling away at me. I had a mountain's worth of baggage to sort through and I didn't even have the slightest clue where to start. I thought finally knowing this knowledge would free me, but in turn it'd only managed to ensnare and alienate me further.
A heavy exhalation of air shot from the young apprentice's mouth in a pallid streak of chilled cold that slithered its way around his head before evaporating. Redpaw stood at the mouth of Crowstar's den, drained and hollow, mutely surveying the contents of the BoulderClan camp. A hunting patrol of cats were just trekking in from the forest, their pelts lightly coated in a layer of snow. Further into the center of camp lie a few of the elders, having braved the icy weather to eat out together and enjoy what last bit of sunlight remained.
Scanning near the outskirts now, to the mouth of their den, sat several warriors huddled closely together for warmth, sharing tongues. There was a soft chatter being exchanged among them, one that radiated familiarity and sense of closeness. It was the type of scene Redpaw was long used to viewing from his outside perspective, but now even more so than before.
Their gazes held a entirely different meaning to him now. What he'd also misconstrued as spite or hate on their behalf was actually weary cautiousness. Whenever they'd glare in his direction, it wasn't because they abhorred him, no, they were on guard. He understood this with a dull recognition. Redpaw had gained a true bird's eye view and understanding of everyone around. He stood rooted in place, simply watching the interactions that went on, finally understanding what honestly should have taken him moons to figure out.
A fracture of Crowstar's final impassioned speech to him echoed suddenly in his ears, as if in some last ditch effort to pull him back from the brink, but it didn't matter. Not a single thing did anymore. He didn't belong here, not after founding out the cruel past of so many of the cats here and what they'd been forced to experience just by having him live there. They wouldn't have to be afraid anymore.
He was leaving BoulderClan. Redpaw planned to depart that very same night, diving headfirst into the reclusive recesses of the wilderness to never resurface again. He was done. The limit had more than surpassed its apex. The ginger apprentice had endured and inflicted enough unintentional strife to last a lifetime, he thought forlornly. It had all amounted to naught, anyway. How mousebrain of him to think any of it was possible. Becoming necessary? Getting them all to accept him as one of them? It was futile from the very beginning.
A faint drift of snowdrops were trickling from the night sky as Redpaw departed. A soft sheet of snow had minted the forest floor over, making a light crunching of ice with every step that he took. He wasn't focused on a specific path. The only intent was to go far, far away where he'd never be able to trace his way back if he wanted to. Redpaw was going to give the Clan what they clamored for the day he was born.
Dawn broke sometime long after he'd escaped the confines of the forest. He'd traversed nonstop since leaving the BoulderClan camp, now padding aimlessly through frozen fields of snow that stretched on for what seemed an eternity. As the sun took center stage in sky, the sprawling fields slowly shifted into long, rolling hills.
A sharp gust of wind began blowing as he young tom trudged onward on his fruitless journey. It buffeted his fur, whipping sheet in his face and painfully plastering his whiskers together. Another gust if wind, more ferocious than the last, howled as Redpaw was battered again by another harsh gale. The ginger tom took it all, proceeding forward still, despite the augmenting cold. After awhile some part of Redpaw barely acknowledged the fact that he was having trouble feeling any of his paws, and his limbs were quite stiff. Every movement of his body was met with some form of resistance.
Night was bleeding into the skyline when Redpaw collapsed. One moment he'd been walking and then his body just gave out on him, plunging the ginger tom face first into the snow. His body felt weighed down by rocks. Scarcely aware of how much time had transpired, Redpaw began the slow and arduous task of digging himself out. Redpaw heaved, spewing out multiple bursts of air into the air, as he gasped for breath, having finally freed himself after digging for what felt an age.
Was he far enough yet, a partially conscious half of him asked. Of course not. He'd hardly gone more than what could be considered a day away from the forest. If he was meant to disappear for good, he'd need to either keep going or die. Redpaw closed his eyes and then sighed. Maybe he would then. Maybe that was his purpose after all.
"Running away, are you?"
His eyes immediately snapped back open. That voice? His ears had to playing tricks with him. He was delirious. He hadn't eaten a solid meal in over a day. It was the only way to explain away the notion of him hearing voices now.
"Turn around, Redpaw."
Stiffly, with what little energy he had left, Redpaw looked over his shoulder. If he wasn't so mentally and physically depleted, he might've experienced the faintest flicker of surprise then. Standing before him in the midst of the snow adorned lands, massive and dwarfing, resided Oakclaw. Despite the chill, the brown tabby didn't appear the slightest bit perturbed. He a once over glance of Redpaw's pathetic state and sighed out loud.
"I've thought several things of you, Redpaw, but a coward was never one of them."
"Neither was family," he rasped back weakly. He shakily turned his body in the snow so that he was now facing the tabby. "You don't have to be bothered with looking after me anymore, Oakclaw. I asked Crowstar to finally tell me everything and now I know."
"And what?" the tabby asked. "You're just going to turn tail and runaway? I thought you were determined to do whatever it took? Where's that perseverance you spoke of?"
Redpaw shook his head warily, suddenly feeling lighthearted. "Why are you out here? You're not my mentor anymore, remember?"
"You're a Clanmate," Oakclaw responded simply. "What other reason is there?"
"Clanmate?" Redpaw snorted sardonically. "You don't have to pretend you care, Oakclaw. We both know you don't. I'm not a part of the Clan. I never have been. I'm sorry about my father and Cedarshade. I'm sorry about your home and friends. I understand now why it's hard for you to connect with other cats when most have ended up either leaving or disappointing you. I get that when you or anyone else sees me that they must worry if I'll do something to destroy the new home and take what little you all have left. I-."
The sharp sound of something low and long cut through the air, interrupting Redpaw. It took him several moments to realize that it was coming from Oakclaw. The tabby was sighing out loud at him. "Disappointing. It's as if you've regressed all the way back into the scrawny apprentice I plucked up three moons ago."
Something about his demeanor, or maybe it was just that Redpaw had ventured well pass his own limit, but something about how casually Oakclaw stood there mildly berating him infuriated him. It all came spilling out like an open wound.
"Look at me!" Redpaw demanded angrily. "Look me in the eyes when you talk to me! If you're going to just dismiss everything I say then at least look me in the eyes while doing it." He swayed on his paws unsteadily. "Do what you're telling me to do now and face up to your past. I-."
He saw life. Oakclaw's eyes crossed paths with his and held in place. There was a emotion in them. Before he had moment to determine which it was, Oakclaw had closed the gap between them. Redpaw felt himself suddenly enveloped by heat as the brown tabby's large body supported him.
"I can't make the past go away," Oakclaw's voice gently drifted into his ear like a warm breeze. He couldn't see the tabby's face, but he almost didn't want to. "I can't help you or the Clan forget. I can't wipe away those feelings. But, if you're willing, I can show you the path to something better. With you by my side, I actually think it's possible, Redpaw. So come back. You're needed."
Drawn to the absolute limit, I drifted off then. Cloaked in the warmth of Oakclaw's nearby body left me feeling helpless, but safe. I scarcely remember what happened afterwards. There are only vague memories in my mind of being carried on Oakclaw's back as I lie lost to the outside world.