A Change in Season

[Deleted]

Despite the warmth of a renewing greenleaf, not all of WindClan’s members were feeling the comfort of the sun on their pelts.

Cedarclaw had been for some time lying out in the meadow with a closed expression on her face. As far as physical appearance went, at the very least, the look on the she-cat’s face could have appeared contemplative, thoughtful, or at least at ease. But unfortunately, any of these assumptions would have the farthest possible from the truth. Inside of her mind, the queen was fighting anguished grief with stubborn pride.

The tortoiseshell’s life had gone from straightforward to terribly complicated all within the last ten moons of her life, starting with a bout of amnesia, which had resulted in her once rival becoming her mate. Sootclaw, an arrogant WindClan warrior, had been everything Cedarclaw had despised about toms. He had always been so proud of his gender, and has constantly taunted her with she-cat stereotypes. And yet after an accident involving her skull and a boulder- right there in this very spot- he’d turned irritatingly sweet and affectionate. To sum up the events, Cedarclaw at last gave birth to a litter of three kits before regaining her memories. Yet after all the lies, Cedarclaw couldn’t bring herself to hate the tom again. The love she’d found with the tom had remained, and for a time, she had been truly happy.

But two moons ago was when everything she’d grown to hope for began to crumble. Both Sootclaw and her only she-kit, Quietkit, where lost in a greencough epidemic within not two days of each other. The loss had been next to unbearable, tearing at her heart and strength. But the only ties she had left, her sons, Darkkit and Stonekit, were reasons enough to fight the sadness. It was her duty as a queen to be strong for her kits. If she couldn’t be, then what kind of example would she be setting? No, she had to remain in control, for their sakes if nothing else. There young lives had been filled with enough family troubles already. The last thing they needed was a pathetic mother.

What she needed to do was remember who she was. She was Cedarclaw, the fierce warrior of WindClan. She had trained harder than any cat she knew to become as powerful a cat as she had been. She had fought in several battles and received her fair number of scars as prizes. She had never let anything stop her before, and she wasn’t about to start now. Her claws dug themselves into the earth beneath them, and her tail lashed out behind her. "Yes, I am going to be strong," Cedarclaw decided, rising up onto her paws with determination clear in her face. As painful as loosing her mate and kit was, Cedarclaw knew she was going to survive. That was just who she was.

[Tanglekit]

Jaggedpelt padded along making his way through the grasses of the meadow. The grass was green and fresh with the greenleaf fast approaching. Picking his way through the forage he scented Cedarclaw. He had never gotten to know the she-cat as well as he would have liked, but now didn't seem like the time. She was grieving, and if anything he knew how that felt. Cedarclaw had lost her mate and one of her kits. And that could be one of the hardest things on a mother. Jaggedpelt himself had lost his mate and all of his kits at the same time.

He could remember the day quite vividly. He remembered the day when Mosspelt had fallen off of a cliff and into a stream. They had swimmed together often, but one day she had never resurfaced. And then watching his kits die without the protection of their mother had been unbearable. He had since them isolated himself from others. He had always been a somewhat withdrawn cat, avioding others. Mosspelt had been the one to truly open him up to others. But with her dead he had kept to himself.

He could remember his son Lionkit with fondness. He had been brave and kind, the picture of a good son, but Starclan had ripped him away. But he had to go on, for the sake of his clan. For the sake of progress. For something. "Hello there Cedarclaw.", he meowed sitting down a few feet away from her.

[Deleted]

Cedarclaw hadn’t been expecting anyone to come across the meadow. She’d been far too absorbed in her own thoughts to ponder about the possibility of anyone else crossing her path so far out from camp. She hadn’t even noticed the approaching scent of her Clanmate, despite the wind carrying it right too her. So when she heard the tom’s mew sound from just near her, she almost jumped straight out of her fur. Thankfully, she had a little more self-control than to actually start. If she had, she would have been greatly embarrassed and frustrated with herself.

However, the tortoiseshell did curse herself for not having been more aware, and still felt a hot flush run over her face, which was followed by the fur on her neck trying to stand on their own. There she was, just talking to herself in the middle of a field, looking like a complete fool. Her claws sunk out of their sheaths and into the earth beneath her paws in aggravated embarrassment. Forget trying to be strong; cats are going to start saying I’m mad! Her claws dug lines in the dirt a few times as she tried to regain her position, and she took a steady breath in through her nose. Forget it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Control yourself!

Once she felt as though she had a hold over herself again, the she-cat turned her head toward her Clanmate with a masked, vague expression on her face. ”Hello, Jaggedpelt,” she responded coolly, remaining standing, and keeping her chin slightly elevated as she spoke. After everything she’d been through, one thing she hadn’t lost was her definite pride, especially when around toms. Appearing weak to them was still her worst dread, and she wasn’t about to see that realized. And as if in challenge, she questioned the tom, ”What are you doing out here?” believing she could retain some sense of authority- even though, relatively, she had none. But that was not something that concerned the warrior-queen.

[Tanglekit]

Jaggedpelt didn't really notice Cedarclaw's reaction to his appearance. He didn't really notice much of anything these days. He had always been quiet, a sort of cat that was more comfortable with himself than with others. Even when he had been with Mosspelt he had been more of the silent type, but with her death, he had retreated into himself even further. He watched on as Cedarclaw greeted him. Her head rose with silent pride and a little arrogance. She had always been a proud she-cat. And a heck of a fierce warrior. Jaggedpelt had never been a great warrior, but he was a good enough hunter. He relaxed into the sitting position his green eyes boring into hers. He had known that she had mated with Sootclaw and that she had two male kits of her own to raise. He himself had been a father before, but all of kits were now dead.

"I was just walking, and thinking about my son. You have two sons don't you? How are they faring without their father?", he asked. He wasn't a big conversation striker, but he was genuinely curious. His own kits had taken a turn for the worse without their mother around. Living without a father could be a bad experience for a kit. Two males at that.

[Deleted]

As she stood held her ground, Cedarclaw almost began to feel unnerved by the look she saw in Jaggedpelt's green eyes. There was a kind of thoughtfulness in it that seemed almost sorrowful, and it seemed to meed her eyes with such a concentration that it was almost hard to meet. But the tortoiseshell held that gaze all the same, although she was tempted to at least bit her own cheek out of the awkward feeling it gave her. Yet it also made her curious as to what the tom could be thinking about.

His statement, however, answered that question bluntly enough. And from it, the she-cat couldn't help but show a flinch. The reaction had been to her own attitude toward the warrior tom. How could she have forgotten? It had not been that long since Jaggedpelt had lost his family. Compared to his, Cedarclaw's situation was comparatively lucky. She at least still had two of her kits to hold on to. She would get to watch them grow into fine young warriors, one day. Jaggedpelt wouldn't have that. Not anymore.

And when the tom mentioned her two kits, and their own situation, she felt the familiar tightening of her chest. That little glimmer of happiness she had just thought of for herself seemed to fade away at the mention of what her kits had lost. As of late, Cedarclaw had fallen into habit of thinking only about her own pain that had come from the deaths of Sootclaw and Quietkit. It was so easy to forget about how Stonekit and Darkkit must have felt. But, at the same time... "Yes, I do. Stonekit and Darkkit. They'll be apprenticed soon." The tortoiseshell hesitated to answer the tom's second question. "Well, they have been very strong through it all. But in truth, they seem to be fine." Which almost worries me. "They both act the same as before, cheerful and eager to be made apprentices. It's almost like... They don't really miss their father, or their sister."

Cedarclaw regretted that last sentence as soon as it was out of her mouth. She hadn't wanted to admit that personal fear to anyone. But it was on her mind a lot of the time. Don't they remember them? Don't they think about them? They must, but if they do, they keep it well inside them. They must be strong... Which is exactly what Sootclaw and I always wanted them to be.

She hadn't realized that she had sat down, but she must have at some point, as she now sat with her head angled down at the grass near her paws. Her orange eyes blinked, and she looked back up toward Jaggedpelt now with much less pride. "And you? How have you been lately?" Cedarclaw didn't like getting emotional, or even talking about feelings, but she felt as if they both could use someone to talk to after everything.

[Tanglekit]

He relaxed a little bit more when the conversation began to flow. He felt sorry for this she-cat. She had to raise these two kits all alone. "Strong boys. A lot like their mother.", he meowed. He himself hadn't been coping well, with his families death. Mosspelt had made up a large part of him, and with her traumatic death, a part of her died as well. But Cedarclaw projected a strength that he wished he had. His strength was silent, and most of the time dormant. "I haven't been so good. But one must go one for the sake of the clan.", he chuckled darkly.

[Deleted]

Cedarclaw hinted at a smile at the praise given to her two young toms with a twitch of one side of her mouth, but failed to actually produce such a complete expression. She hadn't paid attention to the second half of the compliment that had been directed towards her, however. The she-cat wasn't concerned with such things. She knew she was strong, and didn't need assurance of the matter from any cat. But when it was about her kits, well, that was a little different. Cedarclaw's current dream was for both Stonekit and Darkkit to make their presence in the Clan known. She wanted them to be seen as great, brave, and powerful warriors someday, and the more recognition they received now, the closer that dream seemed to be.

Jaggedpelt's next few words brought the tortoiseshell she-cat out of her own mind, and back into their conversation. Her eyes softened a couple degrees as she listened, recognizing some of her own thoughts being called back to her. "Go on, yes. But not too far, I think, that you forget." Her discomfort about discussing emotions called the she-cat to cast her eyes down to her paws again for a moment, before raising them again to look out at the rolling marsh hills before her. "Strength can only do so much good. There's always still parts of the past that time doesn't look over. They're dark spots that keep calling us back, making it hard to look away... " Cedarclaw then looked back once more to the warrior tom, fighting down the awkward feeling that gutted her belly. She felt that these things had to be said. They were the words that she'd been formulating in her own mind, for her own sake. But now they could be able to help another cat whose situation was so like her own. "Holding yourself tall is only an external affair. If you were past and over what happened to Mosspelt, I'd think you horrible. Horrible and low. The fact that you feel as you do means that she meant something to you, and that you are wise enough to realize that."