Talking... again

[Rolo]

((This is for Frostpaw and Finchpaw ))

Frostpaw shot Firepaw a brief smile of what could be interpretted as thanks before turning from the gathering place and moving off into the darkness. She hoped Finchpaw would follow, Frostpaw could not stay here any longer as she needed to get away before the Fogclan cats headed in this direction on the way back to camp.

Although she had not verbally given her thanks, she was grateful to Firepaw for giving her the chance to speak to Finchpaw. It seemed the guy was not a bad cat... he was just lead into a judgemental mindset by his father. She had meant every word she had said about the cat... although he irritated her profusely with his judgemental words, she did respect the cat's fire. It had almost made her chuckle when he had been told this, the look in his eyes being one of utter confusion. Maybe he wouldn't guess so much about her now.

However... her opinions of the firey ginger tom were still very mixed. She had wanted to talk him down when he had shown so little disregard to Finchpaw's feelings and freedoms. She hated seeing cats being controlled by others... it went against everything she believed in. She couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her friend, who had to deal with such dominating presences...

Yet, at the same time, she envied him. Firepaw struck her as a good brother, even if he was a little big-headed at times. Frostpaw, born without siblings and never knowing her father, had never known what it was like to be protected by sibling or parent.

Frostpaw kept her feelings carefully masked as she inwardly sighed. She then turned to Finchpaw and said, "You're a lucky cat, you know."

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw watched as Firepaw disappeared into the sea of Fogclan pelts, becoming visibly more relaxed as soon as he was gone. He had nearly let his anger get the best of him this time and that was something that rarely happened. It had shocked him, the sudden surge of red-hot fury at Rowanheart. And he had nearly taken his anger out on his own brother for listening to that fool of a cat! How could Rowanheart do that to him? Didn’t his own father trust him at all? It seemed he would forever be the kitten who just couldn’t keep his muzzle shut about his confusion over Starclan. He was too weak. Too simple-minded, it seemed. If only he could go back in time to young Finchkit and just tell him to keep all his silly little Starclan thoughts to himself.

The last thing he wanted was to be followed around constantly, even if it was just by Firepaw. One thing he actually liked about his job was that he got to be alone and he got to use that time to think. Now that he knew Rowanheart wasn’t going to give him that, Finchpaw felt smothered. He felt the need to rebel.

And though he was talking to Frostpaw because he wanted to, Finchpaw also knew that now he had a second reason, an ulterior motive. It brought him such delight to know he was going behind his father’s back, though at the same time, the feeling sickened him. He was using Frostpaw, after all. And how could he do that to a cat that he found clever and enjoyable?

As Frostpaw turned to take a different route back to camp, Finchpaw followed her, matching her pace with his own. They didn’t speak right away; Frostpaw seemed to be thinking of something and he too, was deep in thought, trying to crush all these terrible thoughts he was having about himself and his father and his brother. He was slowly coming to loathe his emotions for it seemed they were growing stronger and harder to control. And he needed them in control at all times.

Suddenly, Frostpaw did turn to him and she spoke. “You’re a lucky cat, you know.” And as usual, her tone was completely sincere. At least Finchpaw could count on Frostpaw to be truthful with him.

He looked at her, the question rising in his eyes before he said it aloud, and he sounded surprised. “I am? How so?”

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[Rolo]

Frostpaw could tell Finchpaw was not too happy right now, however she knew better than to dabble in the foreign art of understanding another's feelings. Ideals and morals were easy for her to understand, emotions made her feel lost. She would strictly keep to the thoughts she was having.

"Your father may be... deluded, and your brother a little insensitive but..." She kept her gaze upon him, "they care about you. That's a big thing... to have someone wanting to protect you from some unconditional urge they hold within them."

Frostpaw barely knew what she was talking about. She knew nothing of these things... all she knew was what she could sense and guess from Rowanheart and Firepaw's words. However, against her better judgement, she continued.

"I have never had that, not even as a kit." She said simply, voice bereft of emotion. It was as if she was settled in the idea... as if she was talking about an impossible dream she now gave little emotion to. It was wishful thinking but not something that hurt or effected her, "I can't really talk, but I should think it would be nice to have someone care about you... even if they're over-protective. I've had to do all my own protecting from the moment I could talk, it gets... tiresome now and again."

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw immediately knew what she was talking about and was very thankful that it distracted his mind away from his other troubles. It was a familiar topic to him; the bond between father and brother and himself, the urge to impress and protect. It was why he did everything he did after all. He invested himself in making his father proud (though now it seemed he was doing a bad job of it, if his father was doubting him) and tried to protect Firepaw from himself, as Firepaw always got himself into those sticky situations. And it was nice to know he could count on them if he was ever in trouble. It just wasn't nice how they were now taking over every aspect of his life.

A pang of sympathy rushed through him when Frostpaw spoke of how she had no one and it was that pang that reminded him why he should appreciate what he had. I should stop getting so worked up. I know that. Frostpaw has no one and I'm lucky to have a family who loves me, even if I do feel like they're suffocating me.

That's what he told himself. But his emotions weren't listening to reason.

His eyes left Frostpaw's face a moment, to mask the sympathy that he did feel for her. By now, Finchpaw knew that she didn't like pity and from the way she talked, it seemed she was already over it herself. If only he could tell her she was wrong. He cared about her... but those words would be empty if he spoke them. Because he couldn't protect her or defend her without being punished for it himself. He wasn't brave enough and he wasn't willing enough to give up more freedom. So he kept those reassuring words locked away. It wasn't like Frostpaw wanted to hear them anyway.

"It is very nice to have someone to protect me... I just wish they'd realize I don't need protecting all the time..." he was careful with his tone again because he didn't want to seem ungrateful, but at the same time he wanted to express his unhappiness with Frostpaw. "I don't want to be forced to lie everytime I want to do something they think is wrong. Especially not to them."

Did it sound like he was complaining? He hoped not. "And I can see that it's tiresome... you seem very tired lately, actually... I'm used to seeing you more lively than you were today, with my brother...did something happen?"

The last statement wasn't even curiousity-driven. Finchpaw looked back at her as he asked, his head tilted in concern. As strange as it was, if Frostpaw lost her... attitude, Finchpaw felt that all inspiration to become something else would be drained out of him as well.

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[Rolo]

Frostpaw, with his words, began to wonder about herself. Was she actually getting to be in favour of relationships? She couldn't be, could she? That went against everything she stood for... she believed that you should live your own life and not care what happened to others. How could she be praising what Firepaw was doing? Especially when he was a pawn in Rowanheart's game?

Even worse, she had encouraged Finchpaw to consider that his domineering kin were blessings! Rowanheart really had messed her up.

"Of course, you don't want them controlling you." She cried almost as soon as he had finished, her voice tinged with an irritation that was more aimed at herself than anyone else, "They need to learn that you are your own cat, you forge your own path. They have theirs, you have yours. They can care for you and show you their way but they can't force you to take it."

She growled at herself, thinking of Rowanhearts own treatment of her. She was not a cat anymore, she was this evil essence who was worthless unless she obeyed Rowanheart's every demand and believed what he believed. How dare he do that to her? How dare he do that to Finchpaw?

"Rowanheart is a mouse-brain." She spat, looking at the ground, "He hurts cats just because they aren't like him. He tries to control you because you have free will. How could Starclan, even if they existed, think that that is the right way to live? I would rather be cursed by Starclan than believe in them if you must be like Rowanheart to be sinless!"

She snarled as if Rowanheart was there. She was reliving the hurt of the day again.

I hate you, Rowanheart. More than you can ever imagine...

She turned to face Finchpaw, her eyes glowing with anger again. Her old fire was back... but it was out of control. It was hurting her, burning her, breaking her even more. The hatred hurt and stung with hopelessness.

"According to Rowanheart," She hissed, looking Finchpaw in the eye, "I will never be loved. I'm doomed to be alone for the rest of my life, because I am a danger to the clan."

She paused for a moment, the anger draining from her face. It left her cold and tired again.

"I'm tired of it. I'm tired of fighting him, of being told how worthless I am, of having no one, of having no hope. Wouldn't you be?"

[Whiskers]

And it seemed, with his question, he opened the doors and Frostpaw sprang to life again, becoming much more animated than before. It confused him a little, the way she spoke, as if she was annoyed at him for his words, but she wasn't addressing him. No, she was attacking someone else. The irritation was for someone else, and that's why her gaze averted his own and went toward her own feet.

It soon became clear who she was imagining as she spat out her words like they were venom. Of course! Rowanheart. He had fogotten all about how Rowanheart had entered camp after he had sent Finchpaw away. His father had been muttering this and that before zeroing on him and lecturing him quite passionately for a good fifteen minutes-- but even then, his anger was toward someone else and Finchpaw saw now that whatever had gone on in that forest had been terrible. Rowanheart's pride had been wounded by Frostpaw but Frostpaw seemed to be hurt even more deeply.

Then Frostpaw suddenly turned toward him again and she looked enraged and hurt and... so fragile in that moment. And it was so surprise why. When Frostpaw explained why she was so hopeless, it only made sense. His father. His father.

His father had said those things.

Finchpaw was disgusted at Rowanheart for being so cruel as to go out of his way to hurt her, his own apprentice, who he should be helping. Of course it was the most dysfunctional pair that Finchpaw had ever seen in his life, but he didn't know that his father would be vicious enough to destroy any hope that Frostpaw had. He was teaching her the wrong things; that there was no point to love, no point in having any relationship with any cat at all. How could Frostpaw ever grow emotionally if Rowanheart stamped on her heart, over and over?

And though his anger at his father had now doubled, his pity for Frostpaw was greater. It swelled inside him as she looked at him with such a terrible expression. He fought to push the pity back and to stop himself from empathesizing. But he failed miserably and he looked at her with softness in his eyes, with tenderness.

He had always seen Frostpaw as a stone. Now he saw her breaking into pieces before him. He wanted Firepaw to be here, to see this. See, Firepaw, he would say to his brother, she does have emotions. She feels just like us, and right now she is crumbling. I want to help her. How can I help her?

Firepaw would most likely say something stupid of course. He'd try to crack a joke, or maybe make some perverted suggestion. That got Finchpaw no where. It certainly didn't solve his dilemma. Should he show sympathy to her or should he hold back? He went with his nature though; to be kind, to try and understand, and to comfort.

"Yes, Frostpaw. Any cat would be." Finchpaw murmured. "And you don't know how much I... I... " and the word finally came out of his mouth, the word he never thought he would utter, "hate what my father did to you. He's not just a mousebrain. He's more terrible than that, if he doesn't have the capacity to see you as you truly are, instead of some twisted version in his head. And he is twisted. He's become that way, I don't know why, but he has and that's why you can't listen to him, can't let him hurt you."

The words were rushing out of his mouth passionately now, and Finchpaw was no longer rethinking them as he usually did. "You have to have hope, though, Frostpaw. If you lose hope... if you truly think you're alone, then you won't have any energy to fight him. And if you don't fight him, who will?"

He did, however, catch some words before they came out of his throat. Sometimes Finchpaw was just as awkward and fumbling as Firepaw, and if he had told her that one sentiment that he was now hiding, it would be too cheesy and stupid anyway. And he shouldn't have to tell Frostpaw that he was there for her; she should know that. It's why he was here now.

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[Rolo]

Frostpaw was still snarling to herself, her anger completely on show. She hated showing so much emotion, it made her feel weak, pathetic. She could almost taste Finchpaw's pity for her, it hung so strongly in the air. However, she was helpless to stop. She could not even begin to force her emotions into one dark corner of her heart, they were too large for her to control even slightly.

When Finchpaw finally uttered his comfort, she both hated and liked his reaction. The understanding soothed him but the pity made her feel helpless. Rowanheart had won, she knew it so completely now she didn't have to think about it. Finchpaw's pitying tone rubbed it in again. It made her hate him... but at the same time, she yearned for his understanding, for him to stand beside her. She was so lonely, she wanted someone on her side. Though hearing Finchpaw insulting his own father gave her a slight surge in satisfaction it wasn't what she wanted... she wanted to have him as an... accomplice, friend... a bond of some kind. Her motives were pure. She was not like Rowanheart, who used his sons so willingly as pawns, Finchpaw was not someone she wanted to use... she did not think of winning against Rowanheart when she spoke to his son... she only thought of Finchpaw himself.

However, despite her lack of will to 'use' Finchpaw in any way, she couldn't help feeling annoyance at the latter part of the ginger cat's speech. Could he really be so blind? Why was he hinting that she was the only cat with the ability to fight Rowanheart? He himself, a capable cat with much more power than she, had the means to do it. Why was he egging her on in will but not in actions? It irritated her massively, even though she knew that Finchpaw fighting his own father would hold much higher risks for him.

Finchpaw felt a hopelessness surge in her heart. Finchpaw was still tied to Rowanheart... he wasn't truely on her side. Until he learnt to act on his own feelings and fight his own corner, she was truely by herself.

"Well, thats it then." She replied, voice dull. "Since you and no other cat has the will to fight him, I will have to do so. Its a thankless job, one which will only ever bring me more misery as yet more cats turn against me, but its all that is left for me to do."

She paused for a moment, pondering what else to say. She'd keep her word, of course. She was not a cat who said things she didn't mean. She'd recover and regain her old passion, she'd find her inspiration again. She always bounced back, after all. The words just felt empty now, but it was a promise to herself as much as Finchpaw.

"But I shall do it another way... somehow." She said quietly, looking up at Finchpaw sadly, "What else is there for me to do? There is nothing else for me to do but fight, it is not in my morals to let this stuff go... or to change for another cat."

((On holiday, it struck me that Frostpaw really is a personality-lacking identity, and she becomes less so every day. Every day aspects of her personality become crushed, her simple pleasures torn away from her and slowly she is left as just a shell of a cat who lives only to give her opinion. Sad stuff.))[/center]

[Whiskers]

Since you and no other cat has the will to fight him...

What a blow to Finchpaw! It was such an honest utterance though, one he himself knew but tried to ignore for the sake of his own self-esteem. To hear another cat say it out loud though, made it all too real and all too clear. He didn't have the will. He had the strength to do it, if he wanted to. He had the mind to combat his father's, if he so decided that it was time to use it. But he didn't have the blasted courage, he couldn't bring himself to open his mouth and shatter his father's image of him. Even if he despised his father for everything he was doing-- for hurting Frostpaw, for brainwashing Firepaw, for shoving him into corners-- for some stupid, stupid reason, Finchpaw still wanted to please his father and make that mousebrain of a cat proud of him. And the idea that Rowanheart would hate him, scared him into silence.

Why this was, Finchpaw had no idea, he only knew that it was a burning desire to keep his family together and happy. But it was holding him back, just like Frostpaw had told him. His relationships with cats were tying him to a tree and he could only run circles around it as long as he kept that rope intact. Was it really better to have no relationships with anyone at all? To stay selfish and completely on his own?

...No. No, it wasn't better. Frostpaw felt alone, and sometimes, she was very much alone. And though she could look so strong, she was more like a flower than a rock any day. No, he just needed to find the courage and the strength to overthrow his family's control over him. After all, what more could Rowanheart do to him? He was already being watched and followed by his own brother, he was already stuck in the medicine cat den, he had already twisted himself into his own web of lies and so really, what more could his father do if he spoke his mind for once, instead of reciting what Rowanheart wanted to hear? No matter how much Rowanheart tried, he couldn't force Finchpaw to think a certain way.

And so Finchpaw had complete control over that aspect of his life, as soon as he let himself take the reigns again. Frostpaw reminded him of that, by shoving his cowardice in his face.

"I'll help you," he said, murmuring it first, like it was their secret and theirs only. Then, louder, "I'll help you Frostpaw."

Of course, he didn't know how either. He was still deathly scared, actually, but now he had to take a chance, or he'd have to watch his friend wilt and die. And he was not willing to do that.

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[Rolo]

Frostpaw's heart lurched as she heard the tom's first utterance. It had been so loud, she had had to strain her ears to hear it... she was sure she had misheard. Finchpaw wouldn't say such a thing, would he?

But then he spoke the same words again... louder and more certain. If Frostpaw hadn't frozen a moment beforehand, she was quite sure that her jaw would have dropped open.

I'll help you...

The words had a mystical effect upon her. Such a simple phrase, but such a monumental effect. A quiet shock spread through her body, awakening her again. She could feel her spirit lifting, her hurt and bitterness disappearing.

Of course, she was so very glad Finchpaw had finally broken away, that he had finally freed himself from the ties of his family. He had gained his own strength, he had become himself. It was what she had always wanted for him.

However, it wasn't that that spread joy through her veins. It was a deep-seated amazement and feeling of happiness she had never thought she could feel before. It was completely alien to her, so overwhelming it outsized her sadness infinite times. It made her feel strong again, it gave her a will to go on. Her joy was not based on logic, no, it was on a purely emotional level. She was not happy for winning, or for Finchpaw, she was happy in herself. Yet, she couldn't quite work out why. She could not understand why she had lusted after such a bond with him, and sure as heck she didn't know what she would do with it now. All she knew was that she was happy, and that Finchpaw had made sure she wasn't alone anymore. She had a reason and will to fight again, but why she didn't know. Thinking about it confused her so she gave up trying, she did not need to know the reason for it anyway the idea of such a bond with Finchpaw was so natural.

So it was that she took in the bond as easily as she did when she took in air. There was no thought involved, it was accepted so naturally she did not have to think about it.

Before she could stop help herself, she found herself dashing back to Finchpaw. She found herself nuzzling him gently, a look of pure happiness in her eyes, an honest smile upon her face. She revelled in the moment of elation, knowing she was unlikely to feel it again for a long time. She was not embarrassed by her actions, she acted through instinct and found joy in doing so.

"Thankyou." She mumbled simply, drawing away from him.

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw felt the sudden tension in the air, like the air had sudden become solid and firm; a wall between them. He didn't know what to expect from Frostpaw, but he wasn't trying to guess anymore. He had come to terms with her unpredictability and had settled for being surprised every time. Now, though, he waited anxiously, his heart suddenly seizing itself, it too holding its breath and beat for Frostpaw's reaction. He valued her opinion so much, Finchpaw realized, that if she scoffed at him, it would be a deep wound this time and the wound would fester and burn for a long time afterward.

But Finchpaw thought better of Frostpaw then that. He had... faith in her, not to hurt him. It was a strange thing, faith. He used to think that he had none at all, but now he saw that he put his faith in a different place than Starclan. He put it with Frostpaw, a cat he trusted, though all the others would call him insane.

Still, though he thought this and all, he was definitely shell shocked when she reacted in a way he wouldn't have predicted in a thousand moons. One second, the air was thick; the next, the wall broke down and Frostpaw was in front of him, her cheek against his delicately, her eyes bright like fireflies. And Finchpaw had no idea what to do. His mind was suddenly wiped clean just by the feel of her fur against his, and her scent thick in his nostrils. Frostpaw had now thoroughly confused him by physically touching him, something Finchpaw himself had wanted to do to comfort her several times, but never dared to do for fear of Frostpaw drawing away further.

Finally, Finchpaw managed to focus. His first thought? Is Frostpaw smiling?

She was! The smile that danced across her muzzle inspired one of his own, and it spread quickly, touching his whiskers, but mostly his eyes. This was a wonderful, new Frostpaw that he had never seen before and just the joy on her face gave Finchpaw a surge of new found courage. He could fight. He'd find a way. They both would.

He stared at her for a moment, his smile slowly softening around the edges. There was a lot he wanted to say, a lot he wanted to discuss with her, but he couldn't find a good place to start.

"Well I said I was your friend, didn't I?" He murmured to her, a breeze ruffling his fur. "I wouldn't be a good friend if I let you do this alone."

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