Recap: Cariad, while not all that exceptional, managed to defeat Volepaw and take his place in the Clan. Seems like a convenient plot point, doesn't it?


A world that sends you reeling from decimated dreams

Your misery and hate will kill us all

-My Chemical Romance, Welcome To The Black Parade


He lies down to sleep in the den of monsters. Every night, without fail, he carefully picks his way to his nest on the fringe, lies down, listens to the soft predatory sounds of their breathing. Every instinct tells him to run, and every smart part of him says no, stay, stick it out. He knows it will only be worse if he flees. Closest of all is the predator he can't figure out, the she-cat who seems neither beast nor benign. She's honed, trained, indoctrinated, but she doesn't look at him with hate. Sunfeather is a bright pretty enigma, and he could spend the rest of his lifetime trying to decode her.

He watches her as he wakes. First all he sees is a bright splash of gold as he cracks open his opens, dawn light filtering through the fog of his sleep-hazy eyes. Sunfeather always curls up on her side to sleep, but sometime in the duration of the night she never fails to twist onto her back, tail tucked against her stomach, legs twitching in the tepid moonlight air. She reminds him of Elettra sometimes, but even she doesn't possess this odd eccentricity. This morning Sunfeather is snoring, emitting small rumbles as she breaths in and out. This strange, unassuming cat is his only friend in this place; he's greeted with glares wherever he goes, and it's only by Morningstar's grace that he's not been gutted like a fish.

Cariad sighs and blinks again. The den is half empty; they live such structured lives, these mythical forest beasts. They rise early, hunt and spar and disappear for reasons he can only guess at. They expect him to perform duties, too; to feed them and their spawn, to watch the territory like a hawk. Cariad does it without complaint, although his hunting is still rusty. Sunfeather tries to teach him, but she's impatient; he knows as little as a kit, and that's ridiculous for a cat of his age and rank. Yet it's only fighting that matters. Fighting will guarantee him his life; fighting will ensure he lives to see another day. It's the only philosophy ingrained in him.

Sunfeather cracks open an eye and notices his stare. "Can I help you?" she asks groggily. Cariad isn't sure if she's serious, but he shakes his head anyway. Still upside down, his pair yawns, the uniform straight lines of her teeth white and gleaming.

"No, sorry," he mutters, smothering a yawn of his own. Elettra would have smiled and stared back until one of them cracked and blinked. Sunfeather often pounces, unknowingly, on opportunities to show just how unlike Elettra she really is. He misses her more day by day, now that he has this strange excuse for a replacement.

"Stop apologising!" Sunfeather exclaims, looking decidedly more awake. "You know I'm not a soft city cat." His manners aren't welcome here, apparently, but they're hard to abandon entirely. Another apologetic 'sorry' is on his lips before he thinks better of it. Cariad swallows it down and waits patiently for the day's program; Sunfeather always plans their schedule in advance; they got to sleep later than most and rise late to avoid the more disgruntled warriors. They hunt in the secluded parts of the forest and spend the afternoons relaxing in the meadow, pouncing on whatever moves. Morningstar has advised them to keep quiet for now, but he doubts she means for them to be that kind of quiet.

"Anyway," she continues. "I have some business to take care of today."

Her tone seems to indicate Cariad is not invited, and he starts to panic. What will I do all day by myself? Some angry psychotic Clanner is going to kill me. He opens his mouth to protest, but his pair notices his abject horror and intervenes.

"I found you a babysitter!" she exclaims brightly. Then, for a moment, her expression darkens. She quickly pastes a brilliant smile on top of it, but Cariad has already noticed.

"Who?" he asks slowly. "It's not Morningstar, is it?" He shudders at the very thought of the golden queen. Though she gave him back his life, he thinks she may take it away again at any moment. He waits for that moment.

Sunfeather laughs as she climbs to her paws. Cariad does the same, shaking out his ruffled fur and sending scraps of moss flying. A nearby warrior snarls sleepily, and he grimaces. "I wouldn't hand you over to my mother, I'm not sadistic," she explains, still chuckling. "Ha, you're funny. Don't worry. He's not going to kill you, or anything. If you're lucky he might even make a joke or two...but you did kill his apprentice, so I wouldn't hold your breath if I were you."

Cariad exits the den first, Sunfeather chattering away at his heels. "I'm sure he didn't even care about Volepaw, honestly. I never saw them train together. That's probably why Volepaw didn't put up much a fight, you know. He had to teach himself everything. Pretty sad, if you ask me, but this place is kill or be killed. Like you don't know that already."

"Uh-huh," Cariad mutters. They stand over the fresh-kill pile now, though he's not really concentrating on his choice. He's already planning his evasive maneuvers in case this babysitter turns on him. Cariad grabs a small feathered thing and turns away, picking a tidy corner fairly distanced from the Clan cats. A tabby tom nearby gives him a cursory glance, but cariad is to focused on plucking the feathers from his meal. Sunfeather has picked a mouse; in hindsight, it seems like a much more reasonable choice.

"Just go easy on him, okay? Life really screwed him around...or our mother did, anyway. Technically we're related, but I don't know that much about him. He's a bit older, keeps to himself. It's really a miracle Morningstar hasn't kicked him out, or worse. Guess family means something."

The tabby stands up and begins talking to small dappled brown tom. He looks apathetic, and the young looks surprised their conversation is even happening. Cariad pricks his ears but their words are muffled by distance and he can't pick out a single thing.

"Don't eavesdrop," Sunfeather scolds gently, following his gaze. "I'm talking. Anyway. He gets away with a lot, which I'm sure you find surprising. Maybe Morningstar feels bad? I doubt it. She's always lecturing him."

The tabby tom nods assertively and trots away from the apprentice, disappearing rapidly into the forest. Left behind, the small one blinks, looking thoroughly confused and perhaps a bit hurt.

"Here he is," Sunfeather exclaims, smiling delightedly. Cariad scans the green clearing, and can see no one approaching them but a scruffy, dirty calico tom. Burs are woven tightly into his fur and leaves and twigs resiliently cling to his belly. His expression is vaguely empty, painted thinly with lukewarm apathy.

"That's him?" Cariad hisses, gesturing weakly at the approaching tom. He'd rather risk his chances with the rest of the Clan.

"Yes," Sunfeather says primly, shooting him a warning glance as the ragged tom finally arrives. "Strongclaw, this is Voletooth. Thanks for volunteering."

Cariad manages a polite, "Hello."

Strongclaw grunts, looking him up and down. Cariad's fairly certain he's never seen this dismal figure in camp before; all of Sunfeather's ramblings make sense. This tom looks like something a monster chewed up and spit out, perhaps due to the grim odour he radiates. "You looked a bit different last time I saw you," Strongclaw says, squinting. "Your whiskers get a trim?"

"Err, well...no. I-" Killed the other one. Sorry sir.

"He's messing with you," Sunfeather mutters under her breath. "It's a miracle." Cariad can only stare at her, and wonder what kind of company she's subjecting him to. "Anyway, I have my business to attend to. Don't eat him, Strongclaw."

Cariad stands as she does, whispering furiously in her ear, "What am I supposed to do? Groom him?" His glance darts back to Strongclaw, who is disinterestedly plucking a burr from his pelt. It flutters to the ground, snared, faint white hairs gleaming in the sunlight.

"Have fun," Sunfeather murmurs, giving him a disarming smile. With that she strolls away and disappears into Morningstar's den. Feeling vulnerable, Cariad sidles around to face the warrior, giving him a timid smile. The tom is scrutinizing him as though he's in a position to judge. Cariad feels helpless under his examination, small smile frozen awkwardly on his face.

"Have we met?" Strongclaw asks, snaring the remains of Sunfeather's meal and picking at it.

"Um...not really," Cariad says, sitting back down, wondering if any of the Clanners will come to his aid. "I'm Cariad, but I go by Voletooth now." His sparrow is unfinished, but he doesn't really have an appetite left to sate.

"And where are you from, Cariad?" Strongclaw asks mildly. "Your very presence in this Clan is highly unusual, you know. I wonder why Morningstar let you stay in the first place, old customs aside."

"I'm from the city," he starts, nervously. He doesn't enjoy voicing his origins around here. "Morningstar let me join because I defeated Volepaw. Blood for blood. I really don't know how you lot think."

"You probably think we're barbaric. Am I right?" Strongclaw asks, pushing aside the bloody bones he's finished picking over. He snorts to himself and stares darkly at his own Clanmates. "You don't even know the half of it."

"I think I'm fairly up to date," Cariad replies, sitting up straighter. There's no atrocity he's sure PureClan wouldn't commit. Some of his wounds are still healing, and their persisting itch is a daily reminder of who these cats really are. Complacence is bliss, but he doesn't want to forget he treads lightly among monsters. Complacence is an unforgivable slope into that same darkness.

Strongclaw fixes him with a vivid stare. Still, there's a faraway shimmer in his blue eyes, like storm clouds lost and scattered to the winds. "There's more to the Clan than you know. More than the raids, more than the assessments and the killing. Don't forget it, Cariad. Much as I know I shouldn't, I try. It's easier than this...than this void." His voice seems uneven, and Cariad gives him a long sideways glance.

At that moment, a dark shape lopes elegantly into camp; Cariad recognizes it as one of the she-cats who attacked him. His eyes narrow as he watches her. She might have been enough to turn the tide of the battle; if she hadn't appeared, perhaps he might have won. He could be at home, twining tails with Elettra and laughing at Thad.

"You don't like Emberpaw?" Strongclaw asks, sounding amused again; that rough broken edge in his voice has disappeared, patched over and smoothed out.

"She helped beat me down and throw me in that prison. I wouldn't exactly say I like her." He doesn't see her much; she always seems to out in the forest, and Cariad's not egotistical enough to think she's purely trying to avoid him. Not bothering to glance around at anyone else, Emberpaw vanishes into the shadows of Morningstar's den.

Strongclaw rolls his eyes. "She has a weird sense of duty, that one. Not unlike her mother."

As they watch, all three she-cats emerge from the den. Morningstar glances at the sky, as though gauging the time. Sunfeather shrugs her shoulders and walks away without a further farewell. Morningstar flicks her tail at Emberpaw before her gaze falls, with some measure of glee, on Cariad and Strongclaw. She strides over and Cariad gulps, his earlier resentment of Emberpaw forgotten in the face of the haughty leader.

"My, my," she crows. "My wayward son and the intrepid outsider. What a pair you two make. If only you knew."

"Mother," Strongclaw says, dipping his head in a weary and resigned fashion.

"You used to be a lot more fun, Strongclaw," she replies with a wicked smile. "Where did that enthusiasm go?" The calico's ears flatten and a leer begins to bloom on his lips, but Emberpaw intervenes before domestic violence can become a proper issue.

"Won't you be late if you don't leave soon?" she asks, looking pointedly at the sun. "The North Pond is so far away."

"I can be late if I want to," Morningstar sniffs. Still, her eyes once again turn upwards and narrow. "Rude tom with his ultimatums," she mutters. "I'll be off now...why don't you acquaint yourself with Voletooth, Emberpaw. He can tell you all about being a warrior." She snickers, though Emberpaw looks resolutely unamused. The leader strolls away with a smirk curling the proud corners of her mouth. Emberpaw glances down at Cariad with an expression of cool disinterest.

"Good riddance," she says, "but I'll be off. There's not much anyone can tell me that I don't know." She gives Strongclaw a guarded glance as she leaves, all veiled caution and disdain. This is not the first time Cariad has felt out of his depth here, but only now does he realize the shore is nowhere in sight. There are facets to this place, hundreds of them; hate and loathing and lust and the bitter stench of fear. His death is a slow thing, but he drowns nonetheless.

Strongclaw rests his head on his paws, staring after her with something forlorn in those bright eyes. The look strikes a chord in Cariad; he knows its twin, that soft sad mask. He wears it when he thinks of Elettra, Khia, even Thad, until Sunfeather grows tired of his melancholy and entices him into something else. Cariad glances after Emberpaw again, certain there's something he's missed.

"Aren't you old enough to be her father?" he asks as Emberpaw joins a small huddle of she-cats. Strongclaw, though youthful, still has some aura of weathered maturity. The utter state of his pelt only furthers the impression that he's an aged and crabby hermit. The tom grins wryly, snorting a bit at his naivety.

"Of course I am. Does that mean anything to you?"

His heartbeat stutters; he really didn't intend to make another enemy. "I didn't mean to accuse you, or sound like-"

"I could've been her father," Strongclaw says wistfully, ignoring his attempt to apologise. "If I tried hard enough to forget everything else, I pretended that I was. The truth has a way of unearthing itself. There's no mercy in it, Cariad. It's not gentle, or pure, or ever what you want to hear." He pauses, and glances at the forest as though staring into a spectre only he can see. "They say ignorance is bliss, my son, and you ought to remember that."

Beneath the dirt and burrs are wounds, raw and weeping, but Cariad fails to connect them to Emberpaw. "Yet you don't see her as your daughter," he says slowly. That much is obvious; perhaps it's why he's been reduced to a mere pariah, a lonely ghost in the woods.

"Don't pretend to know how I feel," Strongclaw says, with no real malice. "She just reminds of someone, and it's hard to remember she's only Emberpaw, only because remembering is so painful. You know, no one in the Clan really talks to me. Emberpaw avoids me, my mother mocks and lectures me, and the rest do their best to ignore me. Really, they're very good at it. Exclusively professional. It's only when you devote your life to something simply to lose it that you know you have nothing else. Anyway. It's nice to make your acquaintance, Cariad." His sigh is inconsolable, as though this is not something he's enjoying in the least.

"You too, I suppose," Cariad replies unsteadily. He's certainly philosophical for a mad thing. Still, he's the friendliest Clanner he's encountered so far; he could pass as a city cat or loner if he wanted to. The inherent corruption of the Clan has failed to make a mark on him; maybe he merely knows better. It's a hard thing to imagine considering the monstrosity that poses as his mother. "You're not too bad for a Clanner, really," he adds in some poor attempt to console the older tom.

Strongclaw laughs darkly. "High praise."

They sit in camp together, watching the sun sink past its zenith, until Sunfeather comes bounding into camp. There's a squirrel in her jaws; she doesn't drop it on the prey pile but carries it instead to Strongclaw. She spits it out at his feet and swipes a few stray hairs off her tongue with a brightly gleaming golden paw.

"Caught it for you, oldtimer," she says as she grins. Indulgently, Strongclaw feigns mock-offence. Sunfeather grins wider as she sits between them. Her scent washes over Cariad; fresh ferns and mint, pine and moss. Under that is the faint scent of Clan, which permeates everything it touches. Individual scents melded together with something darker, something distinctly sinister. Cariad's nose wrinkles. He's sure, by now, that he smells just like one of them.

"Are you two planning on being productive today, or is lying around enough for you?" Sunfeather asks, brushing her tail against Cariad's leg. She throws him a look, an almost-smirk. His whiskers twitch as he tries to think up a respectable answer, but it's not forthcoming.

"The prey pile is stocked, the territory's secure, it's a sunny day…" he says breezily. "Is there something I'm supposed to be doing?" Strongclaw grunts in agreement as he chews.

Sunfeather tilts her head back and purrs. "I'm sure I could think of something." Her voice is silky, serene, and her tail twitches against his side once again. Cariad coughs a little forcefully. On her other side Strongclaw snorts and busies himself with another mouthful of squirrel. Eyes closed, Sunfeather continues to purr.

The mood is ruined when Morningstar bursts into camp, streaked with blood and mire. Her face is twisted into a furious snarl and her golden fur, usually sleek and impeccable, is ruffled and bristling. "Is he here?" she snarls. "The filthy bastard. Is he here?" Her voice carries across camp; heads begin to poke out of dens and emerge from the forest. Cats begin to shake their heads, unsure, but she is not consoled. Morningstar, a sight to behold, strides across the clearing until she reaches her knoll. Malevolent, vengeful, wraithlike in fury. Cariad presses closer to the ground, a different feeling brewing in his stomach, heartbeat pulsating furiously in his ears.

"He knew better than to have accomplices, I suppose," Morningstar growls, surveying the meek crowd that has formed. "Or did he?" She bares her teeth at the Clan, and a few cats shrink back. "Nettlefrost isn't here, it can't be her...nor could it be you, Meadowmist, unless you're more idiotic than one would think." Her leer grows as she glances at each cat in turn, radiant accusations in her bright eyes. He feels her gaze settle on pelt and linger; Cariad doesn't dare meet her gaze, but even so he senses the moment her burning glare slides away. "A deputy vanished, a warrior gone rogue," she mutters, beginning to pace. "One of you," she cries, stopping to stare into their midst. "You think you could rise against me? No one can! It doesn't matter what you set against me- dog, fox, badger. I'll kill them all and then I'll come for you. I will not die! I refuse!"

Whispers rise amongst the Clan, curious and soft, and she silences them with a hiss. "I cannot die. You're nothing without me. Peppermask did not think so. And now he's dead. I rectified the mistake I made with Iceface; I let him go. Peppermask was not so lucky. That's the price of betrayal and you best not forget it." Her tail lashes as a mournful wind begins to howl through the clearing. Cariad can only blink; something about her words doesn't add up, but her rage distracts him. He can taste it, thick and fetid in the air. "It's clear I can't trust any of you, not even those I considered close. This Clan has had its traditions, its roles to fill and fill and fill- not anymore, you understand? I am your leader! Do you understand?" Her words are punctuated with growls; he thought he had feared her before, but he had known. Not truly, as he does now.

The Clan answered with an uncertain chorus of yes. He mouths the word too, but nothing of substance comes out.

"Who do you answer to?"

"You!" they call out, voices steadier. For most of them, she is the only power they've ever known, the only authority they bow to. She is the sun and they orbit her.

"And only me!" she shrieks. "There will be no more deputies! You only need me." Her final words ring shrilly in the air and echo bleakly in the forest. The Clan can only glance at each other. There are no words, only shock and confusion. Perhaps anger will come later.


it's strongclaw and he talks