Forget Me Not (finchxcrow)

[glowlynose]

Crowpaw sucked in a sharp breath. Finchpaw hadn't been supposed to hear that! Now his friend probably thought that he was a pathetic excuse for a PineClan cat. He was actually entertaining thoughts about StarClan. PineClanners weren't supposed to do that. No, he told himself, shaking his head. No, Crowpaw. Finchpaw isn't in PineClan. He won't think you're pathetic for this. Your family might, Bluefur might, Gingerstar might, but not Finchpaw. You're both lost.

Lost, eh? Then how can we be found again? And how are we both lost? Is it all about StarClan, is that why we're lost?

Crowpaw drew his brows together thoughtfully. All traces of youthful abandon were wiped from his face as he pondered the mysteries which were now set before him. It must have looked strange to the skies, Crowpaw's seriousness. He usually had his serious moments without adopting a serious expression. Why was this so different? Why couldn't he just write off StarClan as ridiculous like the rest of his clan did? It bothered the poor little apprentice like nothing else. What was it about him that was so... different? Why couldn't he just be like everybody else? Things would be so much easier that way.

Then again, life is hardly worth living if it's easy all the time. Crowpaw nodded. Yes, there was the rub.

"You know what I think, Finchpaw? I think that we must all go someplace after we die, and I think it's a very happy place. It might be StarClan, it might not be. I just can't accept the idea of StarClan having any real sort of power. They're dead." Crowpaw drew in a breath. If he continued, he would have to tread very carefully. He was, after all, contradicting what Finchpaw had been told his entire life by his clan. It was ridiculous to him how FogClan could see StarClan as being able to pass judgments on cats. What was with their whole idea about sin? And if they were so concerned with sinning and their souls, why did they commit sins as well? They didn't seem to mind one another's transgressions.

"Your clan seems to think that StarClan, if they exist, have the power to pass judgment on 'sinners,' whatever they mean by sin. It's not like anybody is worse than anybody else. How can a bunch of dead cats' souls really do anything? Souls aren't physical things." Crowpaw paused for a moment to wonder if perhaps he was being too forward. Maybe he should just stop right here and let Finchpaw say something. It was rude to occupy the entire conversation, after all.

"FogClanners seem to think that PineClan cats don't have souls just because we tend to not believe in StarClan. Since when does it take belief in StarClan to give somebody a soul? Since when do we possess souls?

"FogClan is right. PineClanners don't have souls. Then again, they don't either. No physical being can possess a soul. Souls aren't a possession to be bartered off with the stars. I don't have a soul just the same as you don't have a soul. We are Souls. We are Souls that have bodies.

"I think that once we die, our souls have to go somewhere. I just don't think that our souls have any power after our physical bodies stop working. What's the point of having a body if your soul is powerful by itself?" Crowpaw's gaze was intense, more intense than Bluefur's was when he was defending his young friend. The PineClan medicine cat apprentice had just decided what he believed about StarClan on the spot and then decided to share it. If it had been anybody other than Finchpaw, he wouldn't have said it. Nobody else would have listened to him. Anywhere he went he was judged for being a PineClanner. The other clans saw him as disgusting, and his own clan held him to a certain standard just for living there. Was there no place to go to escape the prejudice and judgment? Crowpaw had a private moment of silence for all the poor Souls lost in the fog of ignorance. It was so sad to him.

"Maybe they're real, maybe they're not, but either way they can't have power. Actually, no. They do have power, because we let them have it in the fear that we'll go someplace bad when we die. StarClan can't have any more power than we choose to give them. By not believing in their power, we weaken it. Not believing that they exist gives them even less power." Crowpaw let out a long sigh. It wouldn't be very nice of him to overload Finchpaw with everything now. Finchpaw would need some room for his poor brain to process things. He probably hadn't helped at all. He probably just made his friend even more confused and miserable. Way to go, Crowpaw. Way to mess things up. Again.

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[Whiskers]

Souls. They were speaking of souls now, such an abstract concept, one that was nearly numb to Finchpaw. His father was insistent that he still has a grasp on his, and therefore, it was a sort of possession to his father, though Crowpaw said it was not. So how did he feel about souls, about his own soul, and could he even form an opinion of his own? Right now, thinking about souls led him to countless conversations with his father, conversations that all sounded the same and ended the same and left Finchpaw feeling confused. According to Rowanheart, his soul was in danger of becoming tainted because of Frostpaw. His soul was wandering down an evil path, wrought with dangerous consequences.

But a soul really was not a physical thing. It did not get dirty or worn down, it did not tear or break or bleed or chip away. A soul could not be cleansed or trimmed or fixed. It was just this idea that everyone had, an idea that there was more to a living being than their bodies. Finchpaw felt that he did believe in this concept of souls, though they were not warm lights waiting to float up to the heavens when his body perished. They existed, but they were neither here nor there-- neither in the body or out of the body. It was more in the mind than in the body.

In Crowpaw's case, he believed these elusive souls did exist in the body and, interestingly enough, they went somewhere. It became obvious, then and there, that Crowpaw was not an atheist. He was no cookie cutter Pineclan cat. He believed, not in Starclan, but in something. The irony of the situation made Finchpaw laugh. An atheist in Fogclan, a believer in Pineclan. Maybe their "souls" had mixed themselves up on the way down and Finchpaw was meant to be Crowpaw and Crowpaw was meant to be Finchpaw. Wouldn't that just make life easier on everyone?

But he digressed within his own thoughts. What captured his attention was Crowpaw's question: What's the point of having a body if your soul is powerful by itself?

It was a good question. It lit the candle in Finchpaw's head and the fire started, his thoughts began burning on and on.

After a considerable pause (he had always gotten so lost in his head that he often left the other person in silence for an awkward length of time), Finchpaw spoke.

"I don't know. I'll never know-- we will never know," he said. "To me, the possibility of an afterlife seems slim and improbable. But I can't just dismiss it like some of the Pineclan cats, because of course there is always that chance that it does exist. And our souls..." he paused to let out a short laugh. It wasn't that it amused him, because it didn't. Souls just struck an odd chord with Finchpaw, and made him feel despondent. Useless. Broken, as his family would say.

"You asked why have a body if the soul itself is so powerful. I believe that is your reasoning for an afterlife, correct? That after the body dies, the soul can therefore ascend to that ambiguously appealing heaven, as it needs no body to keep on living. I don't know if I've misintepreted you...tell me if I have."

Another short pause. And then Finchpaw launched into his own thoughts, and this, he saw, is where he and Crowpaw diverged, both of them choosing different roads. "I'm thinking the opposite. I'm thinking that if the soul IS so powerful, that it would not need a body. But clearly, we have bodies and so the soul is not powerful. It needs the body, and once the body dies, it dies too."

"I'm not denying we have souls-- or, as you eloquently put it, are souls. I just don't know if they can move above death. It would be nice if they could and I think I would like to have a sort of afterlife..." Finchpaw mused. "Then at least, I'd know that I could meet my mother one day."

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[glowlynose]

Well, that went fantastically. It went so fantastically that Crowpaw wanted to get up, walk to the nearest tree with a decent sized trunk, and introduce it to his head. Tree, meet head. Head, meet tree. Whack, whack, whack.

Unfortunately, he had to be sensible. Sometimes he wished that the sensible side of his brain didn't interrupt him constantly. His mother was probably to blame for that, as well as his intense urge to smack his head on a tree. He wouldn't put it past Swallowpelt to do something very much like that if circumstances were right.

Why couldn't Finchpaw see what he meant? He hadn't tried to suggest that souls had any power at all. In fact, the sole purpose of what he had said was to dispell the illusion that souls could have any power after their bodies had died. FogClan seemed to think that souls did, which was why he'd said it. For a moment there, he'd forgotten who he was speaking to. Silly of him. Finchpaw wouldn't believe that souls had any power, of course. He didn't believe in StarClan.

"That's what I meant, Finchpaw. I don't think that souls have any power at all, so the concept of StarClan that most cats hold dear is absolutely ridiculous. I probably could have worded it a little bit better," he grumbled, defeated before he had even begun to fight. Crowpaw had hoped that this conversation about souls and such would actually go somewhere, but it obviously wouldn't, not right now, anyway. The concept of souls held the medicine cat apprentice absolutely captive. How could a soul be defined? Did souls have power? If so, how much, and what sort of power? What did personality stop and soul begin to emerge? Did souls even exist?

Crowpaw's downcast face fell even further. If souls didn't exist, then he couldn't be a Soul. If he wasn't a Soul, what was he? Nothing? Souls just had to exist.

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[Whiskers]

Finchpaw was utterly confused now. He sensed that he had done something wrong. Well, it was kind of obvious, now wasn't it? Crowpaw had a crestfallen face and his tone had been sullen when he had told Finchpaw that he had, in fact, correctly interpreted Crowpaw's words. Yet Crowpaw's actions contradicted that and Finchpaw felt lost in the conversation, wondering what he had done wrong to recieve this answer from Crowpaw. Had he upset him? Perhaps it was not that he had misinterpreted him at all (Crowpaw SAID he didn't!) but that he had offended him. How? They were speaking hypothetically. Souls could not be proven one way or another. It was an idea, not a proven fact.

Then again...

How could you define a soul? Finchpaw wondered this, his eyes drifting upward to the sky. He had been thinking, foolishly, in a two-dimensional way. He had been thinking in terms of a soul being physical and he had even acknowledged that it was not physical at all. But yet he had seen it that way, his mind stubbornly set in the Fogclan ways. Even though he didn't believe in Starclan, Fogclan had managed to influence him. He needed to distance himself from that impression of a soul. It was not a light, it did not exist separately from the body in any sort of physical way.

Crowpaw had probably been right. They were souls. The essence of them. The part of himself that made him a skeptic, a thinker. His curiosity and his sensitivity, even the temper he contained so well, a tempered flame sitting just below the surface. That was all his soul. Of course they had no power. But that did not mean that they could not transcend death.

It was just unlikely.

But Finchpaw wanted to believe it. His own words rang in his head now, words he had said so casually, but had opened up a door. His mother. Zoe, she was called. Supposedly, he was a lot like her, according to his father. Only Finchpaw would never find out for himself, because she was dead and gone. Only if an afterlife existed would he ever meet her.

I can hold that door open, he thought quietly to himself, and then, he felt a little stupid, he directed the thought toward his mother. For you. I can try to believe in it, that there is a chance I can meet you. I know it's not much, just acknowledging the chance. But it's the only faith I have.

"No, you did fine, I'm sure it was I who misunderstood, Finchpaw spoke softly, his mind still reaching for the impossible, still trying to extend itself out to the possibility of an afterlife. "I'm just...thinking about it all, this concept of souls. The immortality of our mind versus the morality of our bodies. You'd have to start with defining a soul, but you'd never reach a conclusion..." Finchpaw shook his own head. There was no way he could summarize his thoughts in a coherent manner, when he was so flip-flop on the subject himself. He wanted the faith that Frostpaw or his father had. A faith in one way or the other.

"Sorry, I don't mean to ramble. Usually I'm more eloquent, I swear," Finchpaw scoffed at himself, but his expression was slowly becoming more and more serene. "It's a topic I'm interested in though and one I do want to discuss...it's just hard to when I don't fully understand it myself."

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[glowlynose]

"Oh, it's fine, Finchpaw. I don't care about how eloquent you are. Ideas are still the same, no matter if you use pretty words or not." The words were out of Crowpaw's mouth before he could stop them, and he instantly wondered if he'd made a mistake. He had probably just insulted Finchpaw, with his luck. Finchpaw obviously placed a lot of value upon the beauty of his speech, hence the apology. Crowpaw didn't see why anybody should care about how well you spoke. If your ideas were good, who cared if you used less than stellar word choices, or stuttered when you spoke? Finchpaw's clanmate Willowpaw sprang to mind, and Crowpaw felt a surge of pity for the poor tom, which rapidly expanded to include all of FogClan. Sitting right in front of him, Finchpaw appeared to be the poster child for FogClanners. He was so confused, so lost. Unless something happened to fix that, he would join the ranks of the Everlost, souls who had never found out the answer to the questions they wanted most to be answered. That would be tragic.

For now, though, they should probably stop talking about souls. It would only confuse him even more. They both needed to think about this and ponder things before they even tried to discuss this again. So what should they talk about? He'd come to sort of a conclusion about what souls were, but it was much too soon to share it with anybody. He wouldn't understand anyway. He would think Crowpaw was ridiculous, saying that souls were nothing but at the same time everything. Absolutely loony.

"But anyway, what about your brother? Sounds like he was pretty upset with you. Ridiculous, of course, because all you did was have your own opinion. Anyhow, what do you think he'll do now? Would he... would he expose you?" Once again, Crowpaw regretted his words the instant they traveled from the tip of his tongue. He really must see somebody about his brain-mouth filter. His was malfunctioning. It let everything out, and it shouldn't. That tree over there was looking more and more inviting...

"If he did, I'd help you. I dunno how, but I'd sure try. Not that that probably makes you feel much better, but... yeah." Wow, Crowpaw. Way to turn that into something lame. What happened to your comforting skills? The PineClan medicine cat apprentice shook his head, trying to rid the jeers of his sister from his mind. Unfortunately, it failed, and he was left feeling very inadequate and upset.

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[Whiskers]

How Finchpaw had overlooked it was lost on him. How he managed to not realize-- no, how he managed to deny it for so long-- it was sad. But Crowpaw drudged the issue up with just a few words: Would he expose you?

It was always a thought that had been kept in the back of Finchpaw's head, since the first day he realized that keeping his mouth shut would make life easier. And truly, he must have thought about the chance of exposure when Firepaw had first asked him if he believed in Starclan. Demanded was the proper word. Yet he had pushed it away, denied it, ignored it, left it alone. It was possible his mind just could not handle all that stress at one time-- it had separated his issues. He dealt with the immediate abandonment of his brother first, then the proceeding drama with Brightnose. He had prioritized his life in order to be better-- if not better, than more logical-- throwing himself into his studies and embracing the cat he should be, no matter how much it clashed with who he truly was. And now he had told someone his secret. Yet all this excitement (a word far too optimistic for Finchpaw's life, he acknowledged grimly) had pushed the pressing issue of exposure to the very bottom of his jumbled mess of a mind. Lovely.

Now it was at the forefront. And what was he to do? It became obvious very quickly that, in his rage, Firepaw would storm off and spit insults-- spit the truth-- at Rowanheart. His father would then hunt him down as if he was the juiciest rabbit in the entire forest. And then--

Miststar.

A chill spread through him. The new leader of Fogclan, Miststar, would certainly be told. Finchpaw knew he had a bad feeling about that she-cat since the second he heard her bless him, instead of saying hello. It had turned out she was ambitious, hungry for power, and still just as Starclan-crazy as ever. It was clear that changes would be made to the clan-- what changes Finchpaw did not quite know-- but his father was very close to the leader. Miststar would be told.

Finchpaw grew even colder. His blood was at a standstill. The possibility of everyone in the clan finding out was becoming increasingly possible. It all depended on Firepaw. It was all on Firepaw's shoulders.

"He might," Finchpaw's voice was hoarse. "In fact, he could have already told someone. He could have...he might still."

Even if Firepaw had not told, Finchpaw would be under his brother's paw forever. He had dirt on Finchpaw now, information that would wreck him. And there was nothing Finchpaw could do. Crowpaw? Crowpaw certainly could do nothing as well.

"If he does, I'm...I don't know. I suppose the way you can help me is just staying my friend-- I'll probably lose most of the ones in Fogclan anyway. There's always Frostpaw. But I don't know who he'll tell anyway, if he does, and what will happen if Miststar finds out--" Finchpaw stopped as he realized what he had just said. He had revealed a clan secret-- that Owlstar was gone. Oh well, Crowpaw would find out eventually. He was breaking rules by speaking with Crowpaw already, Finchpaw didn't want to worry about going one step further.

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[glowlynose]

Huh. Now that was interesting. Mistpelt, FogClan's deputy, was now their leader. How had that happened? Owlstar had looked to be in perfect health at the last Gathering, and there hadn't been a battle lately between the clans. Maybe a fox had invaded FogClan and had somehow killed Owlstar? No, news of that would have traveled around the clans, and the battle would have been heard, anyway. So it hadn't been a battle with anybody. Had Owlstar been assassinated? It was certainly possible. Anybody could sneak into a medicine den, steal some deathberries, and then lace the leader's prey with them. Yes, anybody could have done that, anybody at all.

Then again... Finchpaw had not been acting like his leader was dead. He looked far too frightened for that. If Owlstar was dead by any means, his friend would probably have looked sad more than anything else. Instead, when Finchpaw had first showed up, he had seemed scared and disbelieving. Something big had just happened in FogClan, something that had extremely disconcerted Finchpaw. Something to do with Mistpelt. Owlstar was gone, so the only real option left for her disappearance was Mistpelt seizing power from her. How odd. FogClan did not see that as a sin? After all, it had broken the Warrior Code. Actually, it was more like they had decimated the Code, taken what was left of it, shredded it, eaten it, vomited it back up, and then buried it along with any last bit of honor they still possessed. Well, everybody except Finchpaw and Willowpaw. He couldn't imagine either of them being involved in something that horrible.

Crowpaw turned his gaze skyward, hoping to see the birds still there and flying around. That would give him hope for all the lost souls in FogClan, though he didn't know why a couple of birds really should. Unfortunately, they had left for clearer skies.

He allowed himself a small moment of silence for the death of sanity and honor in FogClan. It should have been longer, considering how this involved most every cat in the clan, but he didn't have time for that right now. Finchpaw needed him. He could pay his proper respects later, when he was back in camp. "I don't think he'll expose you though. He's related to you, so he has to have some bit of goodness in him, 'cos you've got a lot of it. Everybody's got some good in them, it's just that sometimes they ignore it. I don't think he can ignore his though. So you're in luck."

Crowpaw's voice was surprisingly calm and collected. Actually, Crowpaw was surprisingly calm. His mother probably would have launched an invasion by now or something, just like the rest of his family, so he was handling this incredibly well.

"And... wait a minute, who's Frostpaw? Is she a friend of yours? Is she nice? Does she like flowers? You should give her a flower from me if she does. If she's your friend she must be nice, silly me. Try to find a yellow flower. Yellow is like the sun and the sun makes everybody happy, and it sounds like your whole clan could use some cheering up right now." Of course, Crowpaw added as an afterthought, she might not even like flowers, which would only serve to make things awkward.

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[Whiskers]

Crowpaw's comments made him blush, first of all. Why? Well there was something about the image of him giving Frostpaw a flower that felt so...embarrassing and silly and on another level entirely. She'd probably stare at the flower anyway. She might even laugh at him, tease him about it. After all, she would say, what use do I have with a flower? Now Finchpaw, he would have lots of use for a flower. He would use it for medicine or maybe he would use it to liven up the rather dreary den he shared with Brightnose. But giving a flower to Frostpaw would be wasting a flower, because she wouldn't really care.

And actually, if it were up to him, he wouldn't give her a yellow flower. Yellow did not fit Frostpaw. If he were to give a flower to her, he would give her...red. Red was a better color. It was strong, like she was, very brave and bold. Yellow was just too flimsy when one thought about it.

But he wasn't giving Frostpaw flowers. That would never happen.

"Ha ha ha, yeah, Frostpaw wouldn't want a flower-- and yes, she is my friend. My only friend now, except for you," he said and surprisingly there was not any bitterness or sadness in his voice. "You'd like her, I think." Though Finchpaw couldn't imagine Crowpaw not liking someone so... maybe that did not count.

Despite that, Finchpaw wanted Crowpaw to meet Frostpaw anyway. Maybe she would like him-- maybe together, Finchpaw and Crowpaw could change her opinion on medicine cats? Ha. Fat chance of that happening.

"My clan however...well, my clan isn't unhappy. We're just uneasy since Miststar took over," his voice grew more subdued and began to drift into a hesitant whisper. "You can't tell anyone Crowpaw. The clans will find out anyway, come the Gathering. But...until then, you can't tell anyone that Owlstar was banished."

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[glowlynose]

Crowpaw's first reaction was to be very insulted. Didn't Finchpaw think more of him than that? He knew not to tell anybody that Owlstar had been kicked out. That was the sort of thing that once you were told, you didn't tell. How juvenile did Finchpaw really think he was? Crowpaw thought he deserved more credit than that. After all, he wasn't a kit anymore. He was a medicine cat apprentice, and definitely more mature than some of the other apprentices in his clan.

"Oh, don't worry, Finchpaw. I wouldn't tell anybody about that. Why would I?" Crowpaw was very curious to see what Finchpaw would say back. It would help him figure out what exactly his friend thought of him, that was for sure.

What was this about Frostpaw being his only friend now that Mistpelt had taken over the clan? It was probably a lie, not that he meant to lie. He probably had lots of friends that he just wasn't thinking about. His mentor was probably a friend of his since she actually mentored him, and what about that little grey tomcat from the Gathering? Willowpaw, wasn't it? Yes, Willowpaw. What about Willowpaw? Surely he was still Finchpaw's friend. So really, Finchpaw's group of friends had just doubled in size. That should make him happy.

"Oh, I bet Frostpaw and me aren't your only friends, Finchpaw. What about Brightnose and Willowpaw, and the other medicine cat apprentices? They must still be your friends, right?" Crowpaw was just reaching for strands now, anything he could think of to comfort his friend. After all, his friend's happiness was much more important to him than his opinions of his maturity. If Finchpaw had to believe that Crowpaw was immature to be happy, so be it.

[/center]

[Whiskers]

Crowpaw's kindness was unfathomable, really. Finchpaw wondered if Pineclan was filled with cats like him-- that without the pressure of Starclan, the clan was happy-go-lucky and filled to the brim with honest, nice, caring cats. Then again, there was Gingerstar. He had seen her enough to know she was not happy-go-lucky. It was more than likely that Crowpaw was the "abnormal" one, a special case that was unlike any he had ever seen. And Crowpaw's innocent question-- why would I?-- was just another example.

He was either not aware of clan loyalties or he chose to put friends first. Didn't he see how this could benefit his clan? How Gingerstar could get more territory if she chose to attack now, given that the clan was recovering from the loss of a leader along with four cats?

Then again, medicine cats were supposed to be neutral from these clan affairs. Perhaps Crowpaw thought that, since this conversation was between two medicine cats, the normal 'rules' did not apply. He was not being disloyal to his clan by being loyal to a fellow medicine cat. Now this Finchpaw understood perfectly. Yet Finchpaw did not think it was Crowpaw's reason. There was something in the black tom's eyes that told Finchpaw differently. That he really was surprised at such a plea, that he thought nothing of what he could do with the information.

"You're right," he said after thinking all this, deciding not to point out how Crowpaw could use the information against his clan-- that would not be smart. "We're friends; you'd never give away my secrets. I trust you."

And he did. The honesty and goodness that existed in this tom told Finchpaw that he need not walk on pinecones around Crowpaw. And so, he told Crowpaw of Willowpaw's departure.

"Actually..." now this news made him sad. This news made his whole frame droop, made his tone drop. "Willowpaw is gone too. Along with Blackpaw, Sootpaw and Hailstorm. They left with Owlstar when she was banished. I have no idea where they went... but they walked out and we haven't seen them since."

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