[ i am blue ] (OPEN!)

[Slug]

He padded softly through the pines, no sign of hesitation in his long strides as his paws carried him across the cold, white earth, his long, poofy tail swaying lazily behind him. With yellow eyes he watched the world pass slowly by, his sad gaze not missing a single detail of the seemingly dead forest.

Nothing was alive in this place-- nothing but him and the trees. His fur proved this for it was a goregous blue, just as it had always been, and would only continue to be so. The tree's needle-like-leaves were a lovely green, and if he focused hard enough, he could smell the sap in the pine's cones. These were obvious signs of healthy status', though he could not help but feel utterly bitter at this.

It had only been a few moons earlier that his father had been slaughtered by rogues, and when Bluefur had still been the no-clanner, 'Urik'. All that was behind him now, yes... but he couldn't help but feel guilty that his father could not be here to see what he was seeing now: the weak sun rays were shining down upon some snow, and oh, how they glittered like the finest dew drops of New-leaf! His father would have enjoyed such a sight, even though the rest of PineClan territory was like the hunger that gnawed at Bluefur's still-empty gut.

As if on cue, a squirrel appeared out from behind a pine, much to Bluefur's delight. It chattered to itself, brown, fluffy tail twitching as if the rodent was having some sort of seizure. Bluefur didn't have to be a genius to know that it was engrossed with the sight of a fallen pinecone a few whiskers away from it.

Slowly, with food on the muscular tom's mind, he crouched, ears pricking forward and whiskers quivering with hope. Could this be it? It better be, because this had been the first morsel Bluefur had seen in two days. Two. Days. He had gone hungry for the sake of the elders, because they were more important than himself, but it was high time that Bluefur caught something for himself-- surely PineClan wouldn't mind?

With that thought had, Bluefur began creeping forward, inch by painstaking inch, breath and heart caught in his throat as he made his way quietly toward the squirrel, eyes growing larger with excitement. Yes! This was it! Finally, food!

Patience spent, the warrior sprang, silent like an owl as he flew through the air in a glorious arch, then with a triumphant cry he landed all-fours on the squirrel, crushing it with his weight. Horrifyingly, however, the small thing was still alive. It twitched all the more, painful shreiking escaping it. Bluefur ended it's agony with a swift and effective crunch to it's neck.

Silence.

With a sigh, Bluefur stared almost lovingly at the dead squirrel under his claws, a dark smile curling his maw. Ah, yes. An actual meal-- it was such an amazing, wonderful moment, that if Bluefur had the ability to shed tears of joy, he most likely would have. Bending down with his mouth wide open, Bluefur prepared to dig into his catch when the soft sound of pawsteps startled him out of his hungry demeanor, making him close his mouth with a frightened click!

Had he been caught? Oh, mercy! Say it wasn't so! How could he have been so foolish? Now he would certainly pay for his actions against the code, because his clanmates were fully aware that Bluefur knew that his clan came before himself. What would his clanmate do? Rat on him? Blackmail him? The possibilities were endless!

"Show yourself!" Bluefur snarled instead, looking around wildly. "Show yourself, you coward!"

There was no way Bluefur was going to get away with almost-eating prey before his clan... well, unless he roughened up his clanmate into submission. That was always a good plan-- wasn't it?

[glowlynose]

From his spot behind a small shrub, Crowpaw gasped. Whoever he'd managed to stumble across did NOT sound very happy. Aquamarine eyes widened in abject terror. What if he was attacked? He wouldn't be able to defend himself. He was barely six moons old, for cripes sake! With his luck, it would be some big, scary rogue eating a kitten or something. After all, that's what rogues did, wasn't it? Crowpaw did not want to end up as somebody's lunch. The small evergreen shrub quaked with his shivering body as his breaths came increasingly faster. He risked a peek around the edge of the bush. That tom certainly didn't look like a rogue. It took Crowpaw a few moments to steady himself, but after that he dared to tiptoe around and "show himself" as the stranger had ordered. He kept his gaze carefully turned to the ground.

"Please don't eat me, M-m-mister. I wouldn't taste good. I-I-I really wouldn't," he stammered. Then Crowpaw noticed the squirrel between the tom's blue paws. A rogue wouldn't be stupid enough to steal prey from PineClan, so the stranger must be... a clan member! Mental facepalm. The dark-pelted apprentice turned his gaze up so that he could see the tom's face. It was Bluefur! The ex-rogue who'd earned himself as a violent, bitter tom was feared by most in the clan. Nobody trusted him, so far as Crowpaw had heard. The large blue-furred warrior could turn on you and kill you in a single heartbeat. Rumors had it that he'd even murdered his whole group of rogues, and that was why he'd joined PineClan, so he could murder them all too. Ah, but Crowpaw was not one to believe rumors about a clanmate without trying to confirm them. Everybody deserved a chance to redeem themselves.

"Hi! I'm Crowpaw! I haven't met you before. What's your name? Sorry about earlier... I thought you might be a rogue or something.

"You sound angry, Mister Cat. Would you like a flower? I know it isn't much, but I bet I could find one around here somewhere... is everything alright? I've heard stories about you." Crowpaw found himself feeling a strange pity for this angry, bitter warrior. He really had heard stories about the tom's past from the warriors, and it wasn't pretty. Bluefur had been a rogue whose very survival was tied up in his anger and violence; if he let it slip for too long, he'd be killed by another member of his group. Then he'd lost his father in a battle. It must be a terrible thing to lose your father. Crowpaw couldn't imagine life without his father... being alive, that is. Otterfur hadn't been around much at all, but at least the little medicine cat apprentice could still go and find him if he wanted to talk. Bluefur did not have the same good fortune. Of course, those were all just rumors, but there had to be some truth to them. Nobody could mess someone else's history up so much that they lied about their dad dying... right?

"It's okay, mister. I miss my dad too. He isn't around much at all, never has been. It's okay to miss him, you know," he murmured in a tone that can best be described as gentle, though it held some pity and a very faint understanding as well. Crowpaw locked eyes with the warrior and smiled weakly, uncertainly. Perhaps next time he should think before he spoke. There was no telling how Bluefur would react to this. Maybe all those stories really had been just stories. Oh stars, that would be horrible!

[/center]

[Slug]

The second the small medicine cat apprentice revealed himself, Bluefur's anger seemed to flicker like a dying flame in a last attempt to be a mighty blaze that it had almost been only a few moments before. Truly, Bluefur wanted to release his rage. To release his frustration out onto the black tom in a wild frenzy-- just to get some weight off his broad shoulders. But he wouldn't, because even Bluefur, the once-upon-a-time-no-clanner, knew that you never, ever harmed a healer.

Ever.

"Please don't eat me, M-m-mister. I wouldn't taste good. I-I-I really wouldn't,"

What?

"I am not a cannibal!" Bluefur spat, hackles rising at the young PineClanner's comment. Who did this hairball think he was, saying a thing like that to him, Bluefur? He wasn't a cannibal, damnit! He didn't look like one, either, and he was most certainly sure of that! He was poofy and blue for crying out loud!

"Hi! I'm Crowpaw! I haven't met you before. What's your name? Sorry about earlier... I thought you might be a rogue or something.

"Cheery little fox, aren't you?" Bluefur stated, irritated at the fact Crowpaw had the gal to think that he was a rogue. Maybe he had been one a long time ago, but he was a PineClanner now, and that was an obvious enough fact. "You should sniff before you leap, because if I had been a rogue..." Bluefur glanced down at the dead squirrel, pressing down on it with a paw.

Bones crackled in response.

"This would be you." The warrior rumbled, eyes narrowing at Crowpaw. "And my name? I know you know it-- everyone knows my name. Silly clanmates and their silly gossip, hmm?" Bluefur said bitterly. "You can't keep anything secret-- especially with those nosy elders. I don't blame them for being nosy, though. I would be bored as a bag of bones, too." He scoffed slightly, as if saying yeah, right.

"You sound angry, Mister Cat. Would you like a flower? I know it isn't much, but I bet I could find one around here somewhere... is everything alright? I've heard stories about you."

...He wasn't serious, was he? Bluefur hoped that flower comment had been some sort of joke...

"No, I don't want a flower." He grumped, though inwardly he couldn't help but feel a slight prick of satisfaction in his heart. Someone cared! "And, I told you. Gossip. It spreads like a wildfire with those elders hanging around." Bluefur hissed, lips curling back to show his yellowed fangs. "But tell me, little one, what stories do you hear?" Now he was curious, damn it all. But he couldn't help it. To know what his clanmates were saying about him was a most excellent advantage-- and potential blackmail.

"It's okay, mister. I miss my dad too. He isn't around much at all, never has been. It's okay to miss him, you know,"

Time stopped. Bluefur stared.

Yes, it was the end of the world as we know it.

"...What... what did you just say?" Bluefur's tone seemed breathless-- amazed, even. But most of all, there was hope in his voice. So much hope, it was almost pathetic.

But Bluefur didn't really seem to care, because mercy, if Crowpaw had said what he thought he said, then damnit, he had a good reason to hope...

To hope that the little one actually cared.

[glowlynose]

At first, Crowpaw had been shocked by Bluefur's reaction. He'd been so... so angry with him for just being afraid. The apprentice had even cringed backwards from the warrior's harsh words. Then he realized that he wasn't really angry with him. He'd just been shocked and a little bit offended was all. Of course, Crowpaw would have reacted in much the same way if anybody had accused him of being a cannibal. After all, cannibalism is quite frowned upon in most societies.

It was what happened at the end that really shocked Crowpaw. Bluefur had dropped the facade of anger and violence for a moment. In fact, it was still dropped. Crowpaw had a feeling that the cat he was seeing now was closer to the true Bluefur than anyone had seen in a while, perhaps closer to his true self than the warrior had ever seen.

"I said it's okay to miss your dad. I miss mine too. How'd you lose yours? It's okay if you don't want to tell me. We only just met, after all." Crowpaw felt that if he could escape this first run-in with Bluefur unscathed and without making the warrior completely hate his guts, he might be able to help the blue tom be happier. To think about what sort of life the warrior must be leading made Crowpaw want to go and sob in a corner by himself. How pathetic an existence it must be to be haunted by anger, dogged by only the bad memories from your past. That wouldn't be a living, that would be a dying. Crowpaw closed his eyes for a moment, paying respects to each day of Bluefur's life that he had lost to bitterness and hostility.

"Why are you so angry all the time? It must make you so miserable." Crowpaw's aquamarine eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun, well, what little sun had managed to invade the territory through the canopy of dark pines. A squirrel hopped through the branches of one, disturbing the snow and causing a torrent of glitter to fall to the ground. The medicine apprentice saw this and smiled. The world was such a great place. No matter how much bad stuff happened, there would always be so much more good everywhere. You just had to look to find it was all.

[/center]

[Slug]

"I said it's okay to miss your dad. I miss mine too. How'd you lose yours? It's okay if you don't want to tell me. We only just met, after all."

Mercy, those words nearly brought Bluefur to his belly, he was so shocked. He didn't know if he wanted to laugh with joy, or sob with relief, those words-- Crowpaw sounded like he truly, honest-to-Starclan cared! His hope, his wishes-- all those days of being angry were over!

...HAHAHAHA-- not in the long run, Bluefur.

Glancing down at his squirrel, Bluefur grimaced as his stomach gave a soft groan. 'Kindness in return for kindness, Bluefur' He reminded himself, picking up his catch and slinking over to the other PineClanner. With a muffled here, Bluefur dropped the dead critter at the black tom's paws. Bluefur stared down his nose at the smaller cat, contemplating something for a moment, then shook his head. "Little one, you are so small... you need food to grow..." Bluefur grumbled, obviously embarassed.

Suddenly, he sighed and settled onto his haunches, a sad look crossing his face. "My father was killed by rogues... a long time ago." He began, curling his tail tightly around his paws, as if protecting himself from the truth in his words. "And... I miss him every day, though I know he's in a better place... somewhere..." He finished softly, ears swiveling backwards against his scalp.

"Why are you so angry all the time? It must make you so miserable."

Should he tell him? The little one wouldn't share his secrets, would he? No, of course not. He was far too kind to do that. Maybe Bluefur was becoming soft, or too trusting, but deep down, he felt that he could allow this little one to sneak his way into his heart. For a while, anyway.

"...I am angry because no one cares." Bluefur answered, voice cracking. "No one will care about me, so I am angry. And if I continue to be angry, maybe someone will began to notice-- to try and actually care." Glancing at Crowpaw, the warrior continued.

"But it seems you are the only one that is trying."

[glowlynose]

Crowpaw looked down at the squirrel with a blank gaze. He didn't need the food, as the last meal that the apprentice had eaten had been quite large. The warrior should have it! Bluefur probably hadn't eaten in a while; his fur was losing a bit of the healthy gloss that came from good nutrition. Then again it would be really rude to refuse this gift. It meant even more considering the sacrifice that the big tom was making for the little apprentice. Without looking up, he took a few bites from the still warm carcass. That would be all for now. Thankfully, it bought him some time to process what else the poor warrior had said.

The squirrel lay once again before the paws of the cat who rightfully deserved it. "Here, you deserve it more than I do. I just ate before coming out, and you caught it," he mumbled, abashed. He'd never thought that he'd lie to a warrior. Crowpaw hadn't actually eaten since last sunrise, but it had been most of a bird, and he hadn't been hungry since. "Thanks for the offer though. It was very good of you."

"I'm sorry about your father, Bluefur. He must have been very brave to fight rogues. I'm not very brave." That last sentence had been spoken to the ground. For some reason, when he was around Bluefur, Crowpaw felt bad about his choice to become a medicine cat. It wasn't very brave of him. His father must be disappointed with him, being the big, strong warrior that he was. When it came to participating in violence, Crowpaw's spine turned into a little sapling. Actually, not even that. Even saplings have a bit of a firm hold on the ground. Jelly would be a much more apt way to describe Crowpaw's spine's reaction to battle, whereas his father was like a big, strong pine tree with roots that reached down to the very center of the earth and beyond. Bluefur's father must have been that way too, to die in a battle with rogues.

"...I am angry because no one cares."
Crowpaw gasped in shock. That had to be a lie! How could anyone not care about Bluefur? It was a horrible injustice, if it was in fact true. Looking at the older tom, Crowpaw couldn't help but feel an intense pity for him. He'd lived with his anger for so long that he'd managed to convince himself that if he just kept being angry it would make others care about him. It was natural to the warrior. Unfortunately, the anger was achieving exactly the opposite effect. It was driving people away from him. Anger is like a parasite that burrows into the very heart of a tree, exposing it to even more disease, and eventually killing it. Bluefur hadn't quite reached that stage yet. There was still hope for the tom who'd lost his sunshine, his hope, and his love. Crowpaw wouldn't let him die any more than he already had.

"I don't think that's true. I bet that lots of cats care about you. They're just too scared to show it, or don't quite know how. Your dad cares, wherever he is. Look around you. I bet that he made today so pretty just to show you that he cares." Crowpaw looked around with an easy smile and sighed. Not only was today absolutely gorgeous, it was warmer than it had been in a few days.

[/center]

[Slug]

"Here, you deserve it more than I do. I just ate before coming out, and you caught it, thanks for the offer though. It was very good of you."

Here, you deserve it more than I do... Frowning, Bluefur looked down at Crowpaw, eyes narrowed in curiosity. How could he, a rude, fluffy blue 'cannibal' deserve more than this medicine cat? "I deserve nothing." Was his stony response, the frown slipping from his face.

"I'm sorry about your father, Bluefur. He must have been very brave to fight rogues. I'm not very brave."

Bluefur couldn't hold back a soft scoff. "My father never fought anyone. He let himself be mauled." His whiskers suddenly quivered, sadness flashing in his yellow eyes. "That tom lived as a peacemaker, little one. He would always tell me "Those who walk away from battle are the ones most likely to live a longer life than others." Hah! Look who I am now-- look what I am doing now. I'm a big, mean, fighting thing!"

Bluefur's shoulders slumped, whiskers quivering again. "Father would not be proud."

"I don't think that's true. I bet that lots of cats care about you. They're just too scared to show it, or don't quite know how. Your dad cares, wherever he is. Look around you. I bet that he made today so pretty just to show you that he cares."

"Scared or not, nobody is going to give a foxdung about this tom anytime soon." He seethed, claws digging into the ground. "But it's better to die lonely, then with those who pretend to care. So it's not a total loss, now is it?" Bluefur added, voice dry.

Wait.

Your dad cares, wherever he is. Look around you. I bet that he made today so pretty just to show you that he cares...

What outrageous thinking! Really. Maybe the little one had a whisker loose or something...

But it did make the warrior smile.

[glowlynose]

Crowpaw's brow shot up at Blueheart's statement. He didn't think his father to be brave? How could that be? All fathers were brave in their own way. Heck, fathers were brave for just being fathers! The warrior said that his father hadn't fought, that he'd let himself be mauled by the rogues. An odd mix of emotions filled Crowpaw's eyes as he looked at the tom; sadness was there, oh yes, and sympathy too, but there was something... else, something elusive, something just beyond anybody's capacity to comprehend. Certainly it was beyond his understanding, for even he did not know the depths of emotion that swelled in his heart. The very wisest cannot tell everything that lays upon the heart of any creature. So there Crowpaw was left, staring up at this tom in so much pain that it rent his heart to even begin to think about it. It seemed that Bluefur had given up on the goodness of the world.

"You deserve happiness, Mister. And just because your father didn't fight doesn't mean he wasn't brave. The way I see it, what he did was the bravest thing of all. It must take a great amount of courage to stare your death in the face and not fight it." Crowpaw found his gaze turning upward. He did this quite often, lost himself in the sky, and he didn't know why. What was it about the sky that so magnetized his emotions so that it was all he could do to tear himself away from it? Somewhere in that dizzying spectrum of cloud-dotted blue was held a mystery... or an answer.

"His place might not have been on the battlefield, but so what? It doesn't mean that he's not proud of you. Just because you fight and he didn't doesn't make him love you any less, wherever he is." Crowpaw drew his attention back to the warrior, but this time there was only one emotion in his eyes, and it was very clear: pain. "I care, Bluefur. I care about you. If I was gonna pretend, I would've run away when I first saw you. Not that you believe me. I don't even know why I care, I just do. But you probably don't believe me, do you? Why should you?" Crowpaw's smile was bitter before it disappeared completely. Bluefur probably didn't believe him, and he probably never would. Was it so hard to believe when somebody said they cared about you?

At least the clouds could keep him occupied for a little while. There was a group of clouds that looked like claw marks cutting through the sky, just less painful, since they were, well, cloud. Did the sky feel pain when clouds traveled through it? They must be soft, but still, they were invading the sky's heart, cutting it. Crowpaw shook his head. This was too morbid. Look at the bunny shaped one instead, or the flowerish cloud. Those were good. Those didn't force the little tom to think things that verged on violence and despair. Cutting the sky, indeed!

[/center]

[Slug]

"You deserve happiness, Mister. And just because your father didn't fight doesn't mean he wasn't brave. The way I see it, what he did was the bravest thing of all. It must take a great amount of courage to stare your death in the face and not fight it."

Bluefur was rendered speechless by the little one's words, a few protestant sputters escaping him. "You don't know what you're talking about!" He snapped, suddenly enraged. "You're just a-- a..." Oh, who was he kidding? The tiny tom's words were true-- at least a little. Somewhere, his father was watching him-- somewhere, Leif was smiling down the sunshine onto the two of them: him and Crowpaw.

So maybe he did deserve some happiness-- just a tiny bit.

"...You're just a kid." Bluefur managed softly after some silence, flinching at the pain he saw in the little one's eyes. "Don't look at me like that." He added hoarsely, whiskers quivering as his angry mask slipped from his face. "Don't you dare. I don't want you hurting, too, mercy forbid it!" He whispered furiously, eyes gleaming with guilt. Had he caused the little one's agony? By the pit, maybe he didn't deserve happiness-- not even a tiny bit. It was as if the world came crashing down when he saw those saddened eyes.

Bluefur couldn't help but feel like he just done some horrible crime at that moment.

"His place might not have been on the battlefield, but so what? It doesn't mean that he's not proud of you. Just because you fight and he didn't doesn't make him love you any less, wherever he is."

"...He loved me when he shouldn't have." Bluefur admitted, voice pained. "He loved me... when I wasn't..."

He wasn't Leif's actual son. And, mercy, how that old realization came back to hurt him. It clawed at his insides, gnawed at his heart.

"I care, Bluefur. I care about you. If I was gonna pretend, I would've run away when I first saw you. Not that you believe me. I don't even know why I care, I just do. But you probably don't believe me, do you? Why should you?"

Those eyes. So pained. So full of all the wrong emotions.

He didn't deserve happiness. He didn't deserve happiness. He didn't derserve happiness!

"I believe you." Bluefur choked, bowing his head as he shuddered slightly. "But I don't deserve it. No, no, no. I can't accept anything from you--" The once powerful PineClanner seemed to crumble, his sorrow and regret darkening his yellow eyes.

"...I hurt you."

[glowlynose]

Crowpaw kept his gaze turned away from the blue-pelted tom so that he could gather his emotions. He needed to drive away all of the bad things. He was hurting Bluefur, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. If he was going to help Bluefur, because, of course, that's what he was supposed to do, he couldn't go around with his sadness so openly displayed. Still, no matter how hard the little tom tried, he could not banish the sorrow from those glimmering aquamarine depths. With a mental shrug, he supposed that it would have to do for now.

"Bluefur, do you see those birds in the tree over there?" Crowpaw motioned with his tail to a pair of finches that flitted about on the breeze around a tall pine tree. One was a female, the other, male. When the spring months came, they would undoubtedly make a nest and soon afterwards would appear a clutch of smooth, pale eggs nestled carefully in its wooded depths. Then, when it was time for the chicks to learn to fly, the parents would kick the little fledglings out of the nest until they learned to fly by themselves. "I'll bet that they'll make a nest, and then baby birds will magically appear. My mom told me that when it's time for baby birds to learn to fly, the parents kick them out of the nest until they figure it out for themselves. Sometimes the little birds die because it hurts so much, but most of the time they're just fine."

Crowpaw looked at the older tom with a sudden burst of sagacity gleaming in his eyes. A small smile even returned to his face, teasing the corners of his lips upwards ever so slightly. The anguish was all gone from the apprentice's eyes now. "I don't think either of us died, Bluefur. So it's okay that my feelings were hurt for a little while. I learned to fly a little bit better."

Never once did it occur to Crowpaw that Bluefur might find his logic to be a bit... strange. Never once did it occur to him that Bluefur might not understand his thought process. It made perfect sense, of course, so why would it be difficult for Bluefur to understand?

"The question is, though, will you let this help you fly, or will it kill you?"

[/center]