To Wonder at the Ways of Life

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Falconpaw

OOC: I love Falconpaw when he's an ungrateful little b-tard. ^^

Reason had taken a vacation. Coherency had fled from this apprentice's mind. And rationality and logic? Both gone.

Falconpaw stared at the other apprentice with sheer disbelief, anger, and dislike in his eyes. Traitor. They were both traitors, come to that. It was hard to decide which was worse. Stupid cats, speaking so lightly like they were discussing the weather when they were insulting their ancestors' power.

He felt much older, felt like a senior warrior dealing with two stupid-as-mice apprentices, even though they were both older than him.

What Finchpaw had said...it was almost certainly wrong. And patronizing. That belief mattered not to a cat's morals..who would believe such a thing? Belief in StarClan made a cat's morals, pretty much. It guided them to be a good warrior and do what is right according to the warrior code. The cats of StarClan safeguarded leaders and gave them more lives - what cat wouldn't want that? It was crazy.

Believe whatever they want - sure. They'd regret it one day when StarClan punished them, the aggravated tom knew. Sure PineClan cats were like any others - except for that major thing. They would never be as great as the other Clans, and they didn't need to fear them because StarClan would always look upon FogClan more favorably.

Meet the cats - who cared about meeting PineClanners? There were StreamClanners and MeadowClanners to talk to, not those heathens. StarClan frown upon him were he to meet them anywhere but in battle! And who'd waste time trying to understand them? Finchpaw obviously was just a dithering mouse-brain.

"StarClan smite you both!" He spat.

Falconpaw didn't go in for eloquent or subtle statements.

Brightnose

She was quite pleased by her apprentice's answer. It was full and rational. He described the details and morality of the situation perfectly. His suggestion to her also intrigued her. It was like he knew her little statement had been a lie. While that didn't worry her greatly, it was interesting.

The tricolored cat shrugged, whiskers twitching slightly. It mattered not. She'd only lied to drive the point home to Falconpaw, and besides, it was she figured StarClan would say anyway. So what if Finchpaw had figured it out?

The calico nodded to her apprentice, meowing, "Very well phrased, Finchpaw. You are correct in all aspects of your speech, and is a tribute to your intelligence that you understand all of this at a young age. It is also vital to the nature of your training, because one day, if duty requires it, you may have to treat a PineClanner."

And yes, it is generally better to talk to a PineClan cat or nonbeliever themselves. It is quite interesting, in fact. And never forget, Falconpaw, to always respect the individual rights and beliefs of every cat, no matter their Clan, as you would no doubt like them to do for you."

The FogClan medicine cat was quite shocked when she heard the brown cat's angry hiss not soon afterward. Her fur bristled with anger and she turned her dark honey-colored gaze on the dark tabby tom. How dare he, after all they had said? How dare he say that?

Her voice was cold as she mewed, "StarClan have nothing to do with your denial of the truth, young Falconpaw."

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw found it funny how quickly and angrily both of them had reacted-- first Falconpaw,with his furious words, and then Brightnose with her very cold hard gaze and tone. But she was not used to this talk. Finchpaw was. It always was "Starclan smite this" or "Starclan smite that" when you were the son of one like Rowanheart. Hearing the phrase uttered again, why, it seemed like de ja vu to Finchpaw. He was five moons old again, in the nursery, trying to drown out Rowanheart's rants with his own very confused thoughts. Not much had changed. He was older, it was a different den, and he was still very confused, though not over the exact same things.

It was the irony in the situation that spurred him onward. Also, it was his promise to Frostpaw to help her. And he couldn't do that if he didn't take a chance every once and awhile.

So Finchpaw opened his mouth and didn't bother to filter what he said.

"How silly, Brightnose. Starclan has everything to do with his "denial of the truth"," said Finchpaw calmly, with a twitch of his whiskers. He still wore his look of stoicism, though there was a quick glint of emotion through his gaze. If Brightnose paid enough attention she might have caught it-- who knows if she could decipher it, though.

"It's why he's so against Pineclanners. Starclan tells him to be. It's why he's angry at us. Because we are disagreeing with his beliefs, and therefore, with Starclan." Finchpaw's tail flicked behind him as he rounded his gaze on Falconpaw. "And heavens forbid, we disagree with Starclan, right?"

"But Falconpaw, we're not disagreeing with Starclan. We're disagreeing with you. We never attacked Starclan outright, we simply tried to discourage prejudice against Pineclanners. You can kick and scream and demand that Starclan get us because we've been bad, bad cats, but I don't think they'll hear you, Falconpaw. Think," He paused and he then asked the question he had been asking his father since day one.

"If Starclan is so wonderful and so loving, like we are taught, then why would they do something so evil over something so trivial? Why would they smite me over a difference of opinion-- why would they smite Pineclan over their lack of belief? It's just one factor in an otherwise strong, proud clan. If you can give me a good reason, then I'll start fearing the wrath of Starclan, and maybe I'll agree with you."

There. It wasn't all out-- not even close-- but he had given more to Brightnose than he had ever given before. More of the real him, that is. And just like that, some of his burden drifted off, like a leaf falling off a tree and floating softly and safely to the ground.

[/size]

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Falconpaw

This. Was. Not. NORMAL! This was way too weird, too badger-freaking out there to even try to comprehend!

Thought the idiot apprentice.

The heavyset FogClanner's muscles were tensed, his tail lashing back and forth. He felt like getting up and giving each cat a swipe across their face. But he could not. It would break no small law if he attacked cats of his own Clan, let alone medicine cats. He knew it was forbidden to harm any cat who knew the ways of healing. However, it was only that law and the fact that they were his Clanmates that was protecting them from his wrath. Were they not medicine cats of FogClan, he would leap at them now, claws unsheathed and teeth ready to pierce bone, all his fury concentrated on their destruction.

All the same, he found it hard not to claw them now while they were alone and he had the chance. They had insulted his honor. They had lied to the tips of their claws and the ends of their tails. They had mocked the teachings he had learned since birth and which had been reinforced by Mistpelt and others. The two medicine cats..had come close to shattering everything he believed.

The young FogClanner would not let them. Would not allow doubt or new ideas to permeate his mind. These ideas were too foriegn, alien....uncomfortable to have in his mind. No, far better to stick to what he knew; it could only be the truth. For if he accepted what they said as true then he had been living a lie and his whole Clan had been living a lie, and he could not, would not take that.

So, trying to contain his furious anger, he got up, and said,

"Thanks for the herbs. I have to go."

The striped brown apprentice slunk out of the entrance to the den, hang the consequences.

Brightnose

Her eyebrows rose half in amusement, half in curiosity as the tabby FogClanner hastily departed. His reasons were somewhat unknown, though she could guess at them easily if she wanted. Anyway, who cared? Hopefully he'd learned his lesson and that's all there was to it.

The calico healer now turned her gaze to the ginger-and-white tom beside her. Good thing he was her apprentice and not Falconpaw. Why, she wondered, were cats so different? So variable, even within a Clan? It was curious how even cats who seemed so alike could have such multiple, infinite variations...

Brightnose was very pleased with how Finchpaw had behaved today. He'd said all the right things, acted in a dutiful manner - except for the thing with the marigold. Oh well, that was easily amended. She made a mental note to review everything and test him on it soon.

She looked at him with contentment in her eyes, and said,

"Mmm, true, Finchpaw. I guess what I really meant when I said StarClan had nothing to do with his denial is that it was all in his own head, not that StarClan was going to do anything to us. Forgive my emotionality.

What you said to Falconpaw is very true. StarClan don't hear cats who speak out without reason or proof behind their ways, I think. And you disarmed his shallow arguments very well.

And your words about PineClan are also correct. I am pleased you understand what some other cats fail to grasp. It's a pity not all cats are as logical as we."

A slightly smug, proud look came onto her face as she said
this.

[Whiskers]

And then he was gone...

How...upsetting. Finchpaw found this extremely unsatisfactory. He frowned as he watched Falconpaw turn tail and run the other direction, with a forced thanks. It was not what he had been expecting. It made him angry that he was not going to get an answer, a response, even if it was a furious, illogical one. The debate was left open. There was no proper conclusion. He had done nothing, gained nothing. This was not a win.

He wanted to growl at Falconpaw's retreating form for doing this. Finchpaw wanted to...to snarl and...call him back here! He didn't, of course. He stayed absolutely still, his eyes glued to the exit of the medicine den. Now he was alone, with Brightnose.

Disappointing. Thoroughly disappointing...

It was near the end of Brightnose's speech that Finchpaw even realized that she was trying to talk to him. He looked at her abruptly, his agitation very clear in his cold, hard eyes. He registered the last few sentences of what his mentor said and his agitation grew.

Oh not again. Why Brightnose had this affect on him...it was a mystery. But nearly every time they were alone, Brightnose said something to irritate him. Did she just rub him the wrong way? Or was it because Falconpaw had put him in such a bad mood that he felt the need to hiss and claw at his mentor's ego?

"It's a pity you have no humility in you to try and sympathize with him," Finchpaw lashed out. He was unthinking, all of a sudden, a ball of angst and frustration. "Here I thought medicine cats were supposed to have the capacity to empathize with our patients, but you are just as unyielding as he is. Both of you set in your mindsets that you are right and the other is dead wrong. That's what brings the conflict, Brightnose. You must be more flexible and understand their position as well. Don't flounce around this den with your haughty grin, preaching that we are better than him, that we won."

His voice raised, his eyes flashed. He was truly angry. What a sight to behold in such a calm cat. "We won nothing!" he hissed. "We have accomplished nothing! For the life of me, this was the most pointless conversation I have ever had-- it only bred more hate, more prejudice against nonbelievers, in a clan where there is already too much."

If he went on, Finchpaw knew he was going to regret it, and say something too personal. About how he was tired of these conversations that ended in nothing but this. How could he win, he wondered? Understanding, was that enough, to breed mutual tolerance?

Finchpaw took a breath and his eyes became blank. "We need more juniper berries by the way." he said abruptly, swiftly changing the subject to herbs. As if that would help anything.

[/size]

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Brightnose listened with increasing anxiety as her apprentice began and continued to speak. Never before - well, not never but rarely - had he shown such anger and emotion. Usually he was the model apprentice: quiet, dutiful, listening. But now he might as well have been a warrior in battle throes. Once he was done, Brightnose tried to mute the anger that rose in her and think logically about all of what he had said.

Sympathy...why was she supposed to sympathize with patients? Surely they had friends enough to do that for them? Her job was healing; why was she supposed to feel personally connected to her patients? In fact a bitter retort was bitten back as she realized the irony of Finchpaw telling her to have sympathy. He who wanted nothing but a professional relationship was demanding for tender feelings. Or perhaps he simply hated her and liked others in general. Who knew? It mattered not, she told herself. Of course, the small part of her that was emotions and the bit of that that was affection for Finchpaw was sobbing its sorry heart out. However, it was tiny, easily suppressed.

Humility..she almost snorted. What humility did she need? She was FogClan's medicine cat; not a job that required humility except to the leader and deputy. There was no need to lower herself just to try and understand the emotions of a lowly apprentice. Hadn't she been oppressed when young? In her opinion, that gave her every right to do it to others. It made sense to use a power so often directed at herself when she was young.

Unyielding...well, of course she was unyielding. She was a medicine cat; he was just an apprentice, she had more right. Flexible...perhaps Finchpaw was right about that. Maybe she didn't necessarily need to lower herself to understand....maybe she simply had to bend her mind slightly. It was an interesting challenge, certainly. How to figure out how to empathize with only a cat's thoughts and not all their messy emotions. Hard, certainly. But she could do it.

Huh. Preach. She didn't preach - she spoke clearly and logically. Grin - who grinned? Not her. She smiled, on occasion.

The calico watched with cold interest as his eyes seemed to flash with deep anger. His following words were...most interesting.

Win? Why would Finchpaw, an intelligent cat, care about winning? Unless he was referring to the dominance of logic in an argument...but she had won that, or so she felt. Pointless...why was it pointless? With luck Falconpaw would be forced to open his mind a little...but perhaps he did not feel that, judging from his former words.

Prejudice against nonbelievers...and he felt there was to much...why would he think that? True, there were some cats like Falconpaw who did not understand the logic in not hating PineClan, but...Finchpaw felt there was surplus needless emotion, a need for more action, perhaps, for understanding? Hmmm....she should question him further. She did not want a scene like last time, but..she was more in control of herself now. The tricolored medicine cat could do it; of course she could. Herbs...it was good to see Finchpaw concerned, if he really was..probably a futile attempt to distract her more than anything. Well, it wouldn't work.

"Sympathy and humility, you said. I have never told you about my youth, Finchpaw, so you would never know but I will tell you some small part of it now; when I was young, there was none of that for me. No attempts to console or help a curious young cat who simply wanted to be informed - but I lived. Why should I act any differently to anyone else? You may say now that I am mature I should in fact wish to reach out; but I feel differently. As you yourself have proved, it is never wise to be involved in emotional affairs.

I am unyielding, yes; but I am a medicine cat. More intelligent and in possession of more knowledge than any apprentice; were I to yield to one, what does that say about me? That I would be weak; ready to give up my views in an instant to please some hotheaded young tom. However, I am willing to try and exercise purely mental flexibility in the future as you suggested...it may work. And your words about preaching, haughty grin, and flounce and being better are simply ridiculous. I am not better than Falconpaw; merely in a higher position with more experience and knowledge. Winning is hardly the point; dominance of logic is.

I am most interested to hear more of your opinion that there is too much hate and prejudice in this Clan already; I did not know of such things. However, I am eager to learn more.

And thank you for the news about the juniper berries. I'll fetch more tomorrow."

Brightnose was satisfied; very satisfied indeed.

[Whiskers]

Of course she had replied to him. What did he expect, for Brightnose to roll over and just let his outburst slide away, like it had never happened? No. She stared at him for a very long stretch of time, but Finchpaw did not look away, did not shy away this time. He met her gaze with a new sort of look. The coldness had melted away, replaced by his brother's fire. It was a very new feeling, holding the ferocity inside him. Usually he chased it away the instant it reared its head, or he squashed it flat on the spot. Not now though, not today.

Unfortunately, this anger that had long been suppressed was now being misdirected. Even Finchpaw knew that, as he sat in the silence of the den. He knew that Brightnose didn't deserve all this. He knew that he was being extremely, unnecessarily emotional but he couldn't calm himself. He couldn't push it down anymore, and he was sick of trying and so he let it spread and he let himself feel it, for the first time in a very, very long time.

It was almost refreshing. He was almost enjoying it. Almost.

Finally, the silence snapped in two. Brightnose answered, answered very calmly and Finchpaw felt as lthough he was being lectured. He felt his ears burn as she spoke so icily, with her smug expression still in place under her cool outerlayer. He saw it and recognized it and wished to tear it off. He felt like Firepaw. He was wild, just like Firepaw, and his claws were showing themselves, as if they were warning Brightnose to cut the fox-dung before he made her.

Soon though-- very soon at that-- he found the initial burning fizzle out to boredom. She was repeating every inch of his speech back at him, with an explanation attached. She wanted a debate, Finchpaw noted. He wasn't in the mood for a real debate though, and he was much too reckless...much too unstable to have one and win. But what could he do? He was practically trapped in the den, and if he tried to walk out, no doubt she would stop him. And if he resisted, Finchpaw could predict that violence would ensue. And since when had Finchpaw been a violent cat?

So he had no choice but to humor her, it looked like. But no, she would not get what she wanted. Finchpaw would not let her.

"I don't care to hear about your kithood, thank you," he said curtly. "I'm sure it will be a great story to tell when you're retired. But it's not important to me right now." How he was managing to keep the hiss from his voice, Finchpaw didn't even know.

"And if you cannot even manage an ounce of humility, then you will never succeed in any debate. And yes, winning is something to strive for during a debate-- why do you have a debate, in fact, if not to change the other's opinion? And if you come across as egotistical, then no one will listen to you-- which by the way you do."

That is what disgusted Finchpaw the most with his mentor. How he could tell, by the look in her eyes, how she assumed she was definitely right, how she prided herself for her rationality. It wasn't everything though. How could she now know that?

"Being a medicine cat doesn't make you smarter. It doesn't mean you are the most logical and it doesn't mean that everyone should listen to you. It means that you've memorized some herbs and you can apply them," snorted Finchpaw very carelessly. "And nothing but logic, nothing but rationality, will lead to becoming cold, unfeeling, uncaring, and no cat will listen to someone whom they perceive to be those things."

"And to tell me that you haven't seen any prejudice-- that tells me you are blind," Finchpaw nearly hissed and then, his anger seemed to fade and a new look entered his eyes. A look he tried to hide. It was one of tenderness and of care, as he said, "Haven't you seen the way everyone treats Frostpaw?"

[/size]

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Her brain felt like it had sped up as fast as a Twoleg monster on a Thunderpath. Her heart rate increased, her fur bristled, her claws unsheathed and her mouth opened in a slight snarl. She felt - just fleetingly - an urge to sink her claws into the cat before her, make him hurt, bleed, feel as she did the anger, shame, regret, sharp as badgers' fangs...

Ridiculous.

The medicine cat was no combat fighter. Not ever one to strike a blow. Except with words. And she'd done so - oh, how she knew she'd done so! And she enjoyed it. Yes.

It seemed shame, such an often ignored and long-buried thing in the calico's mind, was now seeping up like water from some underground place.

Why? She didn't know. She suspected it was mostly Finchpaw's words- his harsh, stinging, true words. But it was also what made her feel his words; how they seemed with no regards to her wishes just washing away her tide of logic and reasoned thinking and exposing her emotions beneath.

The FogClanner hated him for it.

She was also furiously puzzled; how could he, this mere, mostly unknown apprentice, do such a thing? Why did she, could she, still feel a nub of affection for him though he did and spoke such things? Maybe it was because, somehow, emotion was independent of logic...perhaps it only relied on memories, it somehow looked past what was going on right now, what was penetrating the mind where it lived...foolish emotion...so uncaring to its host.

Pride...Brightnose had for so long, ever since she'd left to make her own way the world, felt she deserved a certain measure of pride. Certainly it made sense; it gave you faith in yourself, a sense of your own importance, certainty of your actions, and the ability to hold your head high and refusal to let yourself be beaten down and shoved away. She'd longed for that when she was younger... Also, there was her natural pride in her thinking, methods, and herbal skills. Didn't she deserve that? Had she not earned it through her service to her Clan and learning?

But there was shame...dreaded shame. Shame that knew Brightnose had too much pride. Shame that bitterly knew he was right, so right...why hadn't she noticed it before? Because he doesn't deserve to be listened to! Part of her shouted. Because we hate him, remember? Yes....but to herself she sounded almost puzzled. Part of her snorted and the other, bitter part said it was a waste to be angry; the logical thing to do was simply learn from what Finchpaw said and move on.

But it wasn't as easy as that.

No. Parts of her - the anger, mostly - refused to die. But there was also, that little, near-silent but so there part, the bundled-up emotions and at their front was the affection for Finchpaw.

She had little time to wonder at it before her anger, coldness, and will to debate spurred her to speak.

In a meow bitter, cold, harsh and slightly self-mocking, the medicine cat spoke.

"Yes. I merely used it as an example, the telling matters not. Perhaps my pride has ruled me - it will not do so again."

She mulled over his opinion on debates. Was it true? She mostly debated with herself, so...perhaps he was right, she admitted a bit reluctantly. Why did one have a debate if not to change the other's opinion...it was something she'd never really considered. She liked debates just because of the satisfied, showing, logical feeling they gave her. So she knew little ,and should listen to Finchpaw. Though her logic reached this conclusion quite easily, the rest of her was loathe to admit she'd possibly been making a huge mistake all along.

So to bow one's head...for if you seem willing to accept you are lower than some, perhaps being beneath things makes others wonder at how open you are, so low, so alert...maybe it DIDN'T mean you had to show weakness and emotionality. For she realized it was emotion, after all, that lead to pride. So the ginger and white tom was right. Which must mean he was also right about her being egotistical. She felt a slight growl rise in her throat. How dare he? He dares because he knows you don't realize it, said her bitter self-criticism. She hung her head slightly, realizing the full truth of this.

"Yes." Was all she said after he had said that. Her face, formerly contorted with emotion was now smooth, her eyes oddly blank as though she could only see in her mind.

Lost...lost she now was. Word by word, sound by sound, her apprentice picked apart the pillars she had built for herself over the moons. Blasted emotion, cursed unpredictability- yet could it also save her? Like a ray of sun through storm clouds, a small light entered into the maelstrom of the gold, white, and black cat's mind.

What if...what if she could use emotion to slowly free herself? It would take such time...yet for her, it was doable. Yes, Finchpaw, she said silently. I'm keeping a little pride. Just enough to make myself go forward and not back. Because if I enter into this new path of yours, I'm going to need something familiar.

Because if what he said was true - she'd deluded herself all along. Oh, not in huge amounts, just for her own security, she knew. But still.

"You know, Finchpaw...a while ago I wouldn't have believed you. Part of me still doesn't. But I'm going to take a chance. I'm going to - just a little - take your advice. Try and change myself, bit by bit. I know I can't change who I am - which IS logic, mostly - but perhaps I can...integrate. And not be so egotistical. Because you're right, it's just embarrassing. Any cat with sense knows not to be like that, whether they like debates or not.

And I've become a bit like that, I realize. Sometimes it's served me well; it probably still might in some ways. But in others, I realize I'm lost."

She barely managed to get her last words out before he spoke again.

"Not blind, Finchpaw. Merely that I do not spend much time with my Clanmates, and especially not Frostpaw-" Brightnose wondered if she was going too far "-whom I have heard loathes medicine cats. So even if she wanted help - and from what I hear, she is not one to ask from anycat - I could not give it to her. She would only sneer at me, most likely.

How could I help her?"

Brightnose felt almost detached from herself by now.

[Whiskers]

And just like that...he had...cracked her? Finchpaw felt all his anger swept under the rug as confusion took its place. Just a moment ago, she had been cold and collected and very confident. And with just a handful of comments (albeit said in a fierce, sharp tongue) and she was faltering. Maybe he was wrong. She was not as egotistical as he had thought...clearly that confidence that radiated from her was not solid enough.

Either that, or she really, truly was seeing the "error of her ways". But it still felt strange to Finchpaw, to have his mentor taking his advice. Of course this felt off, Finchpaw thought. It should be the other way around, though how could it be when Finchpaw kept most everything locked up tight...until this moment of course.

Whatever the reason behind his mentor's surrender, Finchpaw couldn't be bothered. At least things had not escalated to the point of violence, or to the point where Finchpaw would have broken completely. And now he was recovering rapidly, pulling back at the pieces that had escaped from him, burying those heavy emotions and letting the fire go out. It was not too hard a process so...so why had it been so difficult a moment ago?

And then, just as Finchpaw had gotten himself calm, Brightnose lit the match again. There was a spark of annoyance at her as she rattled on about Frostpaw. She was so dimwitted. He had not asked her to help Frostpaw. Frostpaw would never accept it and Finchpaw wouldn't insult her in that way. How had the she-cat gotten "help" from his comment? He supposed he had to be blunt with his mentor at every turn if he wanted her to understand him. There was nothing more frustrating than unclear communication.

She wouldn't sneer at you. She'd probably just laugh at your face, thought Finchpaw, though he kept this biting remark to himself as he went in to clear things up. He ignored the first part of her speech; it was unnecessary to address it. He went for the second part instead.

"I did not ask you to help Frostpaw. She doesn't need your help. She is fierce, she is strong, and although this clan treats her as if she were dirt, she still stands up for her own beliefs," Finchpaw said, the hint of irritation in his voice growing clearer as he talked. "I used her as an example, to show you the prejudice existing in our clan. After all, the reason many avoid her...or treat her the way they treat her," his mind flew to his father, and he nearly growled, "is because she does not believe in Starclan."

"And she does not loathe the medicine cat, only what they do. Though I don't think she would take too kindly to you personally," he controlled himself and directed his scalding glare to the floor.

What was wrong with him today? Hissing and yelling, insulting... and now he was defending Frostpaw to his mentor. Finchpaw didn't know why he felt the need to defend her or to explain her actions-- he didn't. If she was here...she might tell him to shut it and let her fight her own battles. Then again, she was still such a mystery that Finchpaw didn't know what she would do anymore.

[/size]

[Cloud of Diamonds]

It - no, she - was split. Half and half, down the imaginary line. Brightnose - or at least the part she assumed was her identity, her real self - seemed on the sidelines, hunched, watching the verbal storm in the den. Her feelings felt oddly detached from her somehow, like the raging mix they were existed independently instead of being a part of her.

Yet her emotions themselves also seemed split...and there's another part of me still, isn't there she thought? The part that forms words, the part that watches all. The logic..yet not the coldness. Not the ruthlessness or curiosity or knowledge. It had been so...attached to those elements of her she hadn't noticed it on her own before because it was always in the shadow of whatever she was feeling at the time, quietly operating itself, unnoticed by the whole cat - her.

It was this bit that said, well, now you need to return a bit of yourself. Feel anger - and when it said this, her rage boiled up again, hazing her other senses and thoughts, wanting to get at Finchpaw, avenge the anger he'd put into her, somehow - a white paw moved. Her light brown eyes narrowed, she was ready to spit out a sharp, unthinking retort when that part spoke again.

Not now. Plan, think through what you're going to say, it said. Then you can sting him with your anger. But temper it. Just be true - do what you are, but not what you want. That would be too revealing. Yes, all of her agreed with that.

She looked at him again. Perhaps she'd been to revealing before - it was time to return a bit to normality. Not that she hadn't meant what she'd said - but she was going to indulge herself first.

In an observing, almost emotionless but smooth tone, the calico spoke.

"Finchpaw. Before I say anything, let me beg some small forgiveness. I misinterpreted what you said. From the affection - I assumed that's what it was - in your face, I thought you wanted support for Frostpaw. I did not fully realize your point, but now I do, and I apologize."

She dipped her head to him slightly before raising it and looking at her apprentice again.

Though a note of familiar curiosity showed itself as the medicine cat frowned, finally processing the ginger and white tom's last words.

Her tone changed, becoming curious, but not probing. Hesitant, as if she were treading on unstable ground.

"Finchpaw...I admire your want for prejudice to stop. But - if you are so concerned - why not tell your father? He, who as far as I know adores StarClan and is a fair cat would most likely help you. But then, there is much I do not know and have not seen. I apologize for appearing rude or ignorant in some way if I am."

And then, head bowed once more, she added quietly:

"Perhaps I should tell him about all this. Maybe he could help."

But then, her anger couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't take the insults, irritation, hot-headedness. Couldn't take Finchpaw.

"Why do I deserve this? Why I do deserve to hear insults which I have not earned? Blunt advice, yes - but how I could I hold myself so calm? It seems - though I am sure I am wrong - as if so many hate me somehow. Dragged into what I never intended to enter - it may be good for me, but it is not me! I..." She swallowed further words, furious at herself for acting up so.

Idiot, she was. Idiot, idiot, idiot. Revealing herself so.

[Whiskers]

After his last comment (well, insult), Finchpaw felt tired...too tired to stay angry anymore. He let it die for good, and no matter what she might say about Frostpaw, he wouldn't get upset. After all, Finchpaw knew it wasn't his place to defend her, and it wasn't even worth it... Frostpaw didn't give a rat's tail about Brightnose. Frankly, he wished he didn't either.

Finchpaw tried to go back to their talk earlier today. He wanted to concentrate on Frostpaw and what she had told him. Back then (and it had only been a few hours ago), it had seem simple. Now? It was hard. Maybe he was just making everything complicated. If he stopped running his mouth and just stayed quiet, like usual, then it would become simple. He could just nod yes and nod no and do what she said and go along his merry way.

And that's what he had to do now. Whatever words were coming out of her mouth (and she was talking again, Finchpaw realized a little late) he would agree with, or he would find a way to drop the conversation. Of course to do that, I should pay attention to the she-cat," he hissed at himself inwardly and then turned his ears toward Brightnose.

"...the affection - I assumed that's what it was - in your face, I thought you wanted support for Frostpaw..."

Finchpaw blinked. He hadn't even realize he had expressed...didn't even... well... it didn't really matter of course. He shifted, feeling slightly uncomfortable about how Brightnose was interpreting this "affection" of his. He really shouldn't be worried. It was unimportant, and he wasn't ashamed of his friendship, no...not at all. It wasn't that. It was probably the fact that he had let such affection even pass through his face, when he usually had so much control that was unnerving him.

And here he was, zoning out again. Every time she talked, he found it impossible to pay attention. He tried to focus, pushing away that non issue he was obsessing over for really no apparent reason.

"...admire your want for prejudice to stop. But - if you are so concerned - why not tell your father?"

Finchpaw froze. All thoughts froze. All feelings froze.

"Perhaps I should tell him about all this. Maybe he could help."

And the rest of whatever Brightnose was saying was lost, unheard by Finchpaw as he stared at his mentor...saw through his mentor. She couldn't be serious. She couldn't... why would she... there was no reason to bring his father into this! Panic returned to him, spreading faster than the anger he had felt earlier, and it did little to help the rushing of his mind. Logical thoughts? Gone. Feelings? A mess. He couldn't grab a foothold, couldn't steady himself...

No, no. No. Just. Calm down. It's not-- she could be bluffing. She's not going to actually talk to him.

Finchpaw blinked, and he managed to focus on the waiting form of Brightnose. She had probably stopped talking for a while now and she looked like she was waiting for something. She must have said something else...but he didn't know what. Hopefully it wasn't too important. He needed to figure out a way to talk to Brightnose about this talking to his father idea without sounding...desperate or paranoid or like he was hiding something.

Finchpaw decided to just concentrate on keeping his tone even and casual. If he spoke it like that, than Brightnose might not sense that something was up.

"Talk to my father about what exactly?" Finchpaw asked, ignoring the rest of the stuff she said. "You were not specific, you merely said "all this." I'm curious to what you mean."

Because Brightnose could just be talking about the prejudice again. The idea of Rowanheart helping was laughable of course, but if she was just talking about that-- and that alone-- then Finchpaw could answer with a lie and then move on. There was no real sense in panicking yet, Finchpaw reminded himself. He would just have to await her answer with keen ears and hope she had not caught the period of shock he had experienced because she mentioned Rowanheart.

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