ReedxRowan [one step at a time]

[Pyro]

Reedfoot sighed as she put the last of her poor catch on the prey pile. Things were getting worse. FogClan needed Mistpelt’s leadership now…not later. She almost questioned StarClan for a moment. Why would they send additional suffering? But then she supposed it was to help convince others that all was not well. That FogClan, or rather someone in FogClan, had done something to provoke StarClan’s disapproval. And if she hadn’t been enlightened by the StarClan sent deputy, she might have started to think her own brother’s negligence in addition to Frostpaw’s was to blame. Thankfully they were not. It was a cat higher on the pole that was responsible for FogClan’s gradual fall from StarClan’s light.

Of course, that did not mean they were exempt from consideration. Owlstar might be the core of the evil, but there were the plagued roots to consider. They would have to change, they would have to learn to accept StarClan’s grace in all its glory if they were to fully appreciate…and participate…in the majesty that would be Mistpelt’s reign.

The she-cat’s eyes flicked to Rowanheart across the camp. She wondered how he was doing. They hadn’t talked since her plan for Frostpaw had fallen through…As well, she wondered if he knew about FogClan’s true destiny. He had to. He was one of the most devoted cats Reedfoot knew. For him not to know would be…No. He did. But they need not talk about that. They could talk about other things…maybe Rowanheart had a few ideas of his own on how to deal with her brother’s troubling rejection of StarClan. Otterclaw couldn’t be as tough a nut to crack as Frostpaw. Maybe some of Rowanheart’s strategies would yield some fruit with her brother’s faith.

She padded over, smiling slightly. ”Hello, Rowanheart. How’ve you been lately? “ Reedfoot was tempted to ask how things were going with Frostpaw, but she knew it was a touchy topic with him. She would say anything unless he chose to bring it up himself.

[Whiskers]

Rowanheart didn't want to be in camp at the moment. He had this itching inside of him, telling him to make himself worth something. He wanted to provide his clan with more prey-- the fresh-kill pile was truly pathetic-- or he wanted to guard the borders from unworthy Pineclanners. If only he had been assigned to the last border patrol. He would feel needed then, like he wasn't lazing about in the snow waiting for something to happen. Rowanheart figured he could hunt, and he was going to ask his son to accompany him, but Firepaw had managed to tag along on the last patrol that went out. Lucky bugger. He would do anything to trade positions with his son right now, just so he could be surrounded by his clanmates, doing a duty that mattered.

He could still go out and hunt... yet Rowanheart was reluctant too, simply because he would be all alone. He liked his alone time as much as any other cat, but too much alone time proved to be terrible for his mental state. If he was alone, he'd think, and he'd think about her and his children...he'd think about sad things and he'd get rather moody. He liked cats who could take his mind of these things sometimes. His clanmates proved as wonderful distractions. No, no. That wasn't the way to describe them. They were more than that. If Rowanheart had learned anything these past six or so moons of living in a clan, it was that he could not live without them. The life of a loner, of a rogue-- it held no appeal. He'd sooner become a kittypet than be alone again.

Not that he would say that to anyone. He never shared those types of thoughts with anyone anymore. Not since Zoe passed.

Rowanheart sighed and lifted himself from the ground, giving his pelt a little shake. Sitting around was making his joints ache, his head hurt. Maybe he'd go see the kits... he did love kits.

”Hello, Rowanheart. How’ve you been lately? “

The voice came out of nowhere, and Rowanheart gave a little start, his claws jerking out and gripping the ground, while he emitted a tiny squeak of surprise. He turned his head and saw the pretty, young Reedfoot awaiting his answer. Reedfoot? Rowanheart was definitely shocked to see her. They were friends...sort of. At least, well... he liked to think they were. But he didn't know much of the she-cat, since they hadn't spoken at length in quite some time.

Therefore, he was absolutely thrilled for the opportunity. He smiled at Reedfoot, and pretended that he hadn't just given a tiny squeak when she had approached. Surely, the she-cat hadn't heard him, right? Because that would be embarrassing.

Rowanheart cleared his throat awkwardly. What had she asked him? How he was doing? What was the answer to the question anyway?

He said, very bluntly, without thinking, "Cold."

Great answer, Rowanheart thought to himself. Maybe he could laugh it off? Or he could say something else-- yes, he would just say something else. Couldn't miss a beat though, had to say it now.

"But of course, that's to be expected, what with all this...snow," Rowanheart said lamely. "What I mean is... besides the snow...I've been just...okay."

So that was pathetic, Rowanheart concluded, and he wondered why he hadn't recovered as easily as normal. He decided it was because she had snuck up on him and he had been unprepared for the conversation... or maybe he was just tired.

[Pyro]

Reedfoot's inner mind twitched a little as Rowanheart struggled to answer her question. Seemingly, she had surprised him. Well...from the small squeak he had uttered, that was obvious.

"What I mean is... besides the snow...I've been just...okay."

'No, you probably haven't.' She thought as she looked him over. He seemed tense. Was he loosing sleep over Frostpaw? Or was he just antsy from not being able to get out of camp all day? Whatever the reason she wasn't sure she wanted to burden him with her problems...but at the same time, she needed someone's help and he was the first cat that came to mind. Who knew. Maybe the introduction of someone else's problems would help keep his mind off his own, even if only for a little while.

So say it. Just say it. How hard was it? Rowanheart I need your help. That's all she had to say...so why couldn't she say it? Because saying it would be admitting defeat. It would be admitting that she couldn't handle it anymore on her own...It would be actually coming face to face with the problem, rather than trying to tackle it from behind. Could she do it?

Rowanheart, I need your help. Rowanheart, I need your help.

Did she really need his help? Maybe if she could talk to Otterclaw one more time...just one more time. No, no...she needed a new mind. A new mind that might come in with fresh ideas.

"Are you sure? You look kind of tense." Foxdung. She was such a coward.

[Whiskers]

She had seen right through him-- though seeing through him was never very hard to do. Rowanheart smiled very slightly (and a bit sadly) as he remembered how well Zoe had read him as well. What was it that she used to say? That his secrets spilled out like sunshine? It was true; he could never hide what he was thinking. Any cat could decipher his thoughts if they looked in his eyes, if they watched his movements, if they listened to the tone of his voice. And Reedfoot was clearly very attentive and she wasn't afraid to speak to him directly and boldly about what was really on his mind.

She at least deserved the truth. Rowanheart gave thought to his answer this time, actually considered his emotions. Was he tense? Rowanheart hadn't noticed that he was. He wasn't actually concentrating on himself at the moment, but rather his clan. He had been studying the prey pile and he had noticed it was low. He had been looking around at all the apprentices still in camp. And he was wondering what his frustrating other son (Finchpaw, that is) was actually doing work. He was still worried about Finchpaw. And very angry at him. If only he could keep an eye on that moody little piece of work, he might be able to relax a litt--

Oh, he was tense. Well look at that.

Rowanheart chuckled at himself. He smiled again, at Reedfoot, and he realized that he must appear very tired indeed. "You could definitely say that. But I think we're all tense, Reedfoot. After all... just look at this clan." Rowanheart turned his head, as if to motion to actually follow his instructions. "So many cats are just lying around. Our prey pile is pathetic. One of our medicine cats is off doing who-knows-what and there is snow everywhere. This is truly the worst leaf-bare I have ever seen... and I've seen quite a few."

Rowanheart almost wanted to bite back that last retort. It made him seem old...and he was old, not old enough to retire (he still had a good couple of seasons in him!) but old enough to feel an ache in his joints when he got up and old enough to be defeated by his own stupid apprentice in a mock battle. Still, Rowanheart liked to pretend he was still young and fresh, especially if he was talking to young warriors like Reedfoot. Now he felt like her grandfather. Wonderful.

"Anyway," he went on bitterly, now in a bit more sour mood than before, though he was put-off with himself and not Reedfoot in the slightest. "I just feel like nothing is getting done and that Fogclan has started to get quite... sloppy. It doesn't help that Frostpaw is worse and... oh look at me," Rowanheart stopped with a frown. "I'm just complaining. I'm sorry Reedfoot. I'm sure you didn't come over to hear any of that."

[/size]

[Pyro]

Ah-ha, so she was right. Well, not that it was a rare occurrence. But still.

And it was this right-ness that gave her an excuse to duck her own problems and the reason she had come over to Rowanheart in the first place. Now she had a new reason: his problems. How could he deal with them? Surely he must feel as though there was a huge weight upon his shoulders, crushing him like an ant beneath a well-placed paw. And to worry about the clan on top of all that? Well, of course he did, but the very thought of that added pressure made her mentally cringe. How could he stand it?

At least FogClan wouldn't be in such a state for long. Their savior was here and she had all the glory of StarClan themselves behind her. This thought brought her to a previous one. Did Rowanheart know? The way he talked...maybe he didn't...or maybe he was just being careful because he didn't know that she knew...No, no. She was just being paranoid. He knew. She knew. They didn't need to risk destroying the hope by talking about it when...sinners who could go back tot heir disgustingly wretched head...might be about.

Her eyes softened. Poor Rowanheart. He had to deal with all that stress alone. And for him to suggest that she might not want to hear about his problems...maybe even that she might not care...no. They were friends weren't they? Friends cared about friends. Friends helped friends. And that was what she would do. The she-cat walked closer to him, to lay beside him (or rather just next to him), in a comforting way.

She sighed. "FogClan won't be like this forever. We are the chosen clan, after all. StarClan has not forgotten us. They will help us to see through this leaf-bare and we will come out of it stronger than ever before...And as for Frostpaw...don't lose sleep over her. There is hope for her and I know you know this in your heart. Why else would you not have given up on her yet? Though she turns her head from them, StarClan would never abandon her to the cold darkness away from their light. They will find a way to enter her heart and when they do, they will stay there. They will stay there forever and ever, and warm her with their glory."

[Whiskers]

Reedfoot's comforting words were sunshine to Rowanheart. They warmed his pelt and lifted his spirits a little higher. He needed her optimism, Rowanheart realized. She spoke with such absolute conviction that he couldn't help but want to believe her, even if he doubted that Frostpaw could ever be saved. In fact, he wasn't really losing too much sleep over her anyway...it was Finchpaw now, not Frostpaw, who was haunting his dreams. His worst fear was that Finchpaw was going to fall from grace and Rowanheart was watching Finchpaw teeter on the edge these last few moons. All because of Frostpaw.

But as Reedfoot talked, those visions evaporated into the crisp, winter air and Rowanheart was left with springtime instead. It felt good, to bask in the warmth of optimism for once. Even if it was still leaf-bare, even if the snow would not melt for weeks to come, Rowanheart was happy with his tiny patch of springtime for now. He was grateful that Reedfoot brought that to him.

He looked toward the she-cat, studied her face and the way she spoke. She truly did believe the words she was saying. They weren't said because they were the right thing to say in a situation like this. Reedfoot wasn't just spouting words he wanted to hear. She was reminding him of the truth.

"Thank you Reedfoot...that was just what I needed to hear. Sometimes even I can forget just how powerful Starclan be. After all, I am just an average warrior... how can I fathom the extent of Starclan's awesome power? But I need a cat like you around, Reedfoot," Rowanheart meowed and his eyes met Reedfoot. He was absolutely serious. "You remind me to keep looking up, even when the sky is vacant with no stars."

Rowanheart paused. He could either reveal that he knew Mistpelt's plan in the next sentence...or he could just forget it. He did now know if Reedfoot knew of it, though he had a feeling in his gut that she did. Mistpelt could trust a cat like Reedfoot.She was just the type of cat that Rowanheart would want along side him in battle, after all. She was completely loyal to Starclan.

"And as for the clan...yes, brighter, better things are around the corner now. I'm sure you know of what I speak of when I say this. I suppose I'm just a little impatient for that greater era. I want to see my Fogclan restored to its proper place as soon as possible."

[/size]

[Pyro]

It warmed Reedfoot to see her words help Rownaheart cast away his sadness and look to the future...a future that his own words told her he knew of. She resisted the urge to sigh as a wave of relief washed over her. She hadn't really doubted that he knew, but it was still nice to have the knowledge confirmed. The warrior smiled. "Yes...It will not be much longer now. Soon new-leaf will come for both our Holy Land and our devote hearts." she paused, closing her eyes for a second. "And Rowanheart...we're friends. Or at least, I hope we are." she opened her eyes again, turning to look him in his own. "And that's what friends do..."

But not soon enough... Otterclaw needed Miststar's leadership now, before he could fall too far from grace. Which brought her back to her own problems. Now say it you stupid kit. Rowanheart I need your help.

Reedfoot looked away, seeming to wilt a little. "Rowanheart...I..." Could she do it? This would be more than just complaining about him. This would be admitting that he had a problem and she couldn't fix it.

They don't matter...You follow the dead, I'll follow the living...They don't exist...Kit's tales...Useless...Lies...

"Rowanheart I need your help. I don't know if this can wait for the day of judgement...FogClan's redemption might come too late for him. I...I need you to help me break through to Otterclaw. He...doesn't believe in StarClan. At all. He says he won't 'fawn after dead cats'...That...That StarClan is a...a...lie designed to give a leader more ground to stand on...I've done all I can do. I've talked to him a countless number of times." Reedfoot felt the sting of salty tears as hopelessness gripped her heart, digging into it with claws of sorrow. This was her brother. And he might never see StarClan's glory. "He's never known them Rowanheart, I see that now. He's had me...our mother...but still he has been alone for his entire life, never knowing StarClan's warmth. I...What if he never does? What if...if...What if when he dies he goes there? He's my brother, my own brother. The only family I have left here, and he's falling into a pit that I can't drag him out of. I'm failing him by not making him realize...failing StarClan by not helping them to beak through the barrier around his soul...and failing Mistpelt by allowing another sinner to exist in our most holy of clans."

By now she couldn't bare to even look Rowanheart in the face. How could she be so weak? How could she be letting this one obstacle and her emotions to take control of her?

"Please...for the love of StarClan, help me. I can't do this anymore. I can't...deal with this alone. I need help."

[Whiskers]

Reedfoot's desperate plea for help hit Rowanheart deep in his chest, and it stirred both pity and understanding inside him. He couldn't believe this was happening to Reedfoot. To Reedfoot. She was an outstanding follower of Starclan, and still such a young she-cat, to him anyway. She deserved no such heartache in her life, and she shouldn't have to worry over these things. But Otterclaw, the selfish brat had brought her both worry and heartache. He was a cruel tom.

A cruel, stupid tom, one full of sin. He would have never expected this out of Otterclaw, brother of the devoted and loving Reedfoot. Then again, Rowanheart hadn't expected to have a son like Finchpaw, who was proving to be weak and worrisome as well.

But Otterclaw? Otterclaw! How could there be two wretched souls living within his perfection, his Fogclan? How could they be tainting the air with every sinful breath they took in? And what did this mean for Fogclan? Having one sinner in the midst was one thing, but having two was an entirely different matter. Frostpaw was a tiny little anomaly. She was benign, for the most part, though she had the potential of becoming malignant if left unchecked. But with Otterclaw joining her... Rowanheart saw that Frostpaw had grown into something contagious. They were a disease now and they were poisoning his Fogclan. Who would be next? Who would fall prey to their sickness now?

A chill ran up Rowanheart's spine as he answered his own question. It was going to be Finchpaw next. His little boy.

Not if he could help it. There was no question, no hesitation-- Rowanheart was going to help Reedfoot, not just because it was the right and holy thing to do for her and his clan, but because if he didn't, that damn tom and that damn she-cat were going to eat Finchpaw's soul out of his body and he would lose his son forever. That couldn't happen.

"Reedfoot...I... I am shocked," Rowanheart managed to utter. "I never suspected... your brother? Otterclaw? Really? I always just assumed that with you as his sister...why, how could he have ever gone astray? It makes me fear, Reedfoot, for this clan." Rowanheart's voice was grave as he shook his head, back and forth, over and over again.

After a moment of silent bafflement, Rowanheart tried to go on, though he still stuttered through his words. The shock of the situation was almost too much for him. "I... I will help you, though. I must help you, Reedfoot. You should have come to me sooner, my friend, for you should not have to bear such heartache alone. Better later than never. I must ask though...have you told Mistpelt about your brother? As you know, she might be better equipped at handling this situation than me."

[/size]

[Pyro]

Reedfoot gave a rueful smile. "I wish it only took blood relation...that it was as easy as that...But StarClan must mean to set these challenges before us. Frostpaw, Finchpaw, Otterclaw...The Sinning Star that is trying to turn FogClan into something no better than PineClan...StarClan must be testing us to see just how faithful we are. Or more likely, how far our faith can extend, if it is so strong it can puncture through even the hardest plague-filled hearts." The she-cat flushed a little under her fur. "Oh, but I'm rambling again..."

Mistpelt...Yes, she had thought about asking StarClan's Chosen to help her...but that seemed a bit too arrogant of her. To expect FogClan's savior to help her with sibling troubles would seem, to Reedfoot, like she thought herself better than everyone else. But she wouldn't say that. She had already admitted one weakness.

"I...I did think about asking Mistpelt, but she has so much to deal with without me adding something else...and well, you do too...But I just didn't know who else to turn to."

And then a thought came to her. What would they do? She'd asked for help, but what was the next step? If she confronted Otterclaw with Rowanheart, he'd know something was up and run for the hills. In fact, he probably wouldn't listen to a word she said no matter who she was with. The obvious answer was for her to not be there. But not being there would feel like she was dumping her problems on someone else completely. But again, Otterclaw's opinion would be biased if she was there...

Reedfoot sighed. She was so weak. "You don't have to do anything big...But I mean, maybe Otterclaw just needs an opinion that is both the same and fresh...Perhaps you could talk to him? Maybe you two could go on a hunt or something...and have...a... ah...tom to uhm...tom?"

Okay, weak and stupid.

[Whiskers]

Rowanheart had automatically stiffened at the mention of Finchpaw among those sinners. His son, listed along the likes of Frostpaw? If any other cat said this, Rowanheart would have spat in their face. This was Reedfoot though and she helped so much more than she hurt (had she ever hurt at all?) and so he couldn't react negatively. Finchpaw wasn't as bad as Frostpaw, oh Starclan no, and he was not as far down the path as Otterclaw. Yet he was still there, teetering on the edge...so close, too close-- he could fall any moment. And the mention of him on the list of sinners just… just shook him up a little bit and so he stared at the ground before him so intensely one would think he was pinning down a piece of prey with his glare.

This conversation is not about Finchpaw… Rowanheart reminded himself. Your son will be fine. You will save him, but first you must save those worse off than him. Though do not worry, my boy… I will never give up on you.

“A tom-to-tom talk you say?” He laughed gaily at this, recovering his composure quickly and efficiently. ”I would love to talk to your brother, Reedfoot. I have had an encounter with Starclan myself, as you know…and so maybe my firsthand experience will convince him of Starclan’s existence. Although I doubt it would even touch Frostpaw’s frigid heart, your brother is more open and more caring than the likes of my apprentice, so I think it might actually make an impact. At least I can hope so.”

Yes…his dream of Zoe. Sometimes, when he felt the most distraught, when even he questioned Starclan’s power and love, he would relive it when he shut his eyes. He would see her, a knowing smile on her perfect face, with the fog at his feet, and he would remember. That was the moment that he knew everything was going to be okay; that he could be a good father (the best father!) and that he could live without her, until finally (the day could never come soon enough) he could join her again.

If that dream did not save Otterclaw, than clearly the tom was near unreachable. However, Rowanheart could not see Otterclaw turning his back on Starclan after he shared his encounter with them.

“The only problem is…I have never had a ‘tom-to-tom’ talk with Otterclaw in my life. He’ll probably catch on that you prompted me to do so,” grinned Rowanheart. “And the last thing that we want Otterclaw thinking is that we’re conspiring against him.”

[/size]