OH HOW IM BREAKING DOWN [ open ]

It wasn’t often that Ashenfang resigned himself to stillness, but when he did it was best that he was left alone. Alone from family, from clan – a total disconnect between himself and the world. Most often, these rare and brief moments of solitary immobility left him time and peace to gather his mind and refocus his motivation. However, on this particular day, it merely left him restless and on the verge of snapping at any cat unlucky enough to cross his attention. So he had left the camp, stalking from the shaded span of overhang that shielded the opening to the warrior’s den, ignoring the concerned looks his sister gave him. He didn’t need Hollystream’s incessant worrying today. He didn’t need anyone. Just space.

Space apparently didn’t want to come easily though. Catching him on the way out, Boulderheart offered a hunting trip – ”It’s been so long since we’ve hunted together, why don’t we go see who can catch the most fish, huh?” – and Ashenfang gave a ragged sigh. ”Not today, Boulderheart. Tomorrow, maybe.” His decline was curt and hardly more than a grumble, the shaded tom already gliding past his littermate on deceivingly silent paws. Boulderheart watched him go, his scarred muzzle turned up in a grotesque sneer – before flicking his tail and disappearing into camp.

Ashenfang unsheathed his claws, triangular auds tipped back in an expression of displeasure. He didn’t like leaving his siblings feeling…abandoned perhaps? Unwanted? Uncared for? He couldn’t put his paw on their exact feelings, but he had seen the expression in his brother’s eyes when hearing for what could have been the fifth consecutive invitation was being rejected. How long could he keep putting time with his family aside before they stopped asking him to join in on their activities? How long could he keep himself distant, and separated from them before they finally allowed him to stay at tail’s length; perpetually alone? ’Isn’t that what you want?’ A voice toned ominously from the back of his mind, bringing up every second thought he had ever had about any decision made in his life. He had always held Boulderheart at a distance, and the rest of his littermates as well even before tragedy had shattered the tenuous bonds that had defiantly held them together. Hollystream’s mothering nature and her unyielding need to take care of anyone and everyone meant that she was constantly being pushed away and avoided, her care just another thing to cause annoyance and irritation. Quailwing was…well, Quailwing; she was far too energetic for Ashenfang’s liking, but she was still his sister and it was wrong that the effort to be closer was always hers. Then there was Spiderleg. Ah Spiderleg, the youngest and feeblest of his siblings. The latest and final product of the pairing between their parents. ’Not to mention the reason your mother is dead…’ The smoky tom’s whiskers twitched, and his tail lashed from one side to the other as if shaking the hateful thought from his presence.

Spiderleg… His mind flashed back to when his youngest brother had looked up at him with eyes so completely filled by a hope that defied all logic, a hope brought about by youth and lack of experience; a hope that had crushed him when everything he wanted, and had imagined himself becoming since kithood, turned out to be out of his grasp. Ashenfang had played a role in the dashing of those dreams, denying his brother the training he so desperately wanted. He could tell himself it was for Spiderleg’s own good all he wanted, but deep down, in the darkest part of the blackest corner of his cracked and bitter heart, he knew the true reason was based on weakness. Spiderleg was too weak to become a warrior, and Ashenfang was too weak to watch him fail.

The deputy turned warrior gritted his teeth, the clench of his jaw slowly building before the tension unleashed with a snarl and the sudden strike of his paw against an unsuspecting bush. Why was he so consumed by these thoughts?! Why was every difficult decision coming back to haunt him now?! The soot shrouded male fell back upon his haunches, his weight against the ground sending up a small cloud of dirt and rustling a dried layer of dead leaves remaining from the cold moons of leafbare. He pressed his paw into the ground, lifting the massive thing to stare at the print it had made. Four toes, all tipped with the delicate circle of a claw point; it was the same as his father’s, as his brothers’, as his sisters’, so why did he feel so…disconnected from them? From most of his clan really..

His thoughts turned to his recent abdication of rank. When his clan had needed him most he had turned away, selfishly choosing his own turmoil over their urgent need for leadership. Thankfully, Duckstep and Whitewater had risen to accept the call, but his own choice still dogged him relentlessly. Why hadn’t he simply accepted the line of succession as he had been meant to do? Why hadn’t he made the trek to high stones, received nine lives, and the –star suffix? Why had he balked at the idea of leadership so severely that it had sent him running from the position as if it carried a plague with it? Why, why, why – it circled in his head like buzzards over carrion on the Thunderpath, yet no answer seemed to surface and sate the endless cawing like a crow perpetually lost. Ashenfang drug his claws through the paw print, ravaging the impression like he wished he could to the many insecurities which had drawn upon his conscience of late. Maybe it was a sign that he was getting old. Maybe he would just lose it like his father did. A bitter huff of something close to amusement shot a burst of air through the tom’s muzzle, parting his jaws in measured breathing afterward.

It was hot. Hot enough that napping could almost be considered an acceptable pastime. Hot enough that his thoughts turned to the river for a purpose other than simply endless hours spent in a readied crouch to swipe fish from their watery domain. An objective half formed in his mind, Ashenfang heaved his considerable frame from the damp earth and padded farther away from camp, following the river bank to find somewhere secluded and quiet. He needed a sanctuary of sorts, a place to escape from the heat and from the jumbled mess of his own head. Maybe a little dip was what he needed to calm the tempest rising in the back of his mind. However, it was not a peaceful swim that he would find that day, and it was not solitude which Starclan had in mind for him. Rather, a distinctly feminine scent drifted across his nose with the underlying tones of crystalline water and fishy oils. Another warrior of his clan, perhaps actually serving to contribute to the freshkill pile? If that was the case he didn’t want to interrupt them, though even if it wasn’t he had no reason to go seeking out company. The brawny male would have turned away then, his murky coat disappearing into the daytime shadows of the foliage like a minnow playing hide and seek through the ripple reflections of light in the shallows. He was already turning away, bearing every intention of leaving his clanmate to her business, when a very sudden, very sharp scent of distress assaulted his sensors and bade him hesitate in his swift departure. It had only been a brief whiff of the unnerving emotion, leaving the warrior to wonder if it had been his imagination playing tricks on him, but it was enough to turn back his direction and point his nose toward the river once again.

A fae was waded in the tugging waters when his shaded form paused on the edge of open bank and verdant growth. A small, calico female, whose name…wasn’t quite coming to mind. Breeze…something or other.. Mousedung! He should know this! She was his clanmate after all, and what kind of cat didn’t know their own clanmates?! It was only the desire to avoid detection that withheld the growl of self-loathing from breaking into a rumble from his chest; after all, he was only here to make sure she was safe and not being harassed by any enemy cats, this wasn’t a social visit, merely a precaution for her wellbeing. Breeze – ’-step?’ – was already up to her neck in the water, raising a tendril of curiosity from the male. What was she doing that deep in the water? If she was trying to cool down or practice her swimming she could have picked an area where the current was a bit gentler. He supposed it was no white capped rapids where she was currently, but just a glance at the quick moving surface could tell him the current beneath would be forceful and commanding. So why was she standing directly in its path?

Ashenfang watched as Breeze – ’-flower?’ – dipped her head beneath the waves, and held it there. He silently started counting – ’One..Two..Three..’ – waiting for her to resurface so he could continue on his way in the good conscience that she wasn’t trying to drown herself. ’Four…’ The tom took a step from where he had been only semi-hiding, his jaden gaze narrowing with grudging sort of concern. ’Five…’ What was she doing down there? Growing gills?! He took another step, his tail swishing agitatedly as he calculated how long it would take him to cross the rocky, sandy bank should she keep her head under versus the time it would take for him to dart back into the forest should she resurface. ’Six…’ You know what? Fine. If she wanted to drown herself then so be it. ’Six and a half…’ Oh to the dirtplace with it all.

Dirt kicked up in clods of urgency, unsheathed claws leave raked furrows where his paws lit upon the ground. By the count of seven his bulk had seemingly materialized at the river’s edge, appearing like shadowy vapor on the wind. Ashenfang wasted no time plunging into the chilled waters, ignoring the way the cold liquid combed its way through his thick coat to run icy fingers along his flesh. His broad chest muscled through the current, his tail serving to keep him balanced by directing him through the rushing water like a rudder. In a few long strides he had reached her, and as his head darted into the water – his fangs grasping the scruff of her neck should she not have moved thus far – her name jumped into his thoughts like an answered prayer. ’Breezepool!’ He would yank her head above water had his grip made purchase upon her, bodily heaving her toward the shallows like any good savior should do. Only once he was certain she was safe from the threat of drowning – due to her own intentions or his assumed actions – would he wheel on her with the aggressive accusation of an adult having watched a kit put themselves in danger. ”What are you doing?” The question came out as a yowling demand, his sodden fur bristling despite his liquid laden weight and blackened auds tipped back in animosity. ”Didn’t anyone teach you not to play with the river?! At any second that current could have taken you, or a branch could have swept you away and you never would have seen it coming with your head under water like that! What were you even doing? Pretending you were a fish? Because I could skin you right now, and give you the full experience!” Anger, frustration, aggression – they dominated his lyric as he descended upon the fae, full of righteous fury and an almost smothering presence. However, there was more, if she possessed the ear to hear it. Tiny as it was it was still there in the undertones of his voice, almost drowned out by the more forceful of muses but there all the same: concern. She had frightened him with her actions, and his intervening left him questioning her intentions but assumption told him they couldn’t have been good. No cat held their head under water that long, it wasn’t natural! But as he took her in, his mossy gaze a forested sea of unreadable tension, he couldn’t help but soften ever so slightly. She was probably cold, soaked through as she was, and no doubt his roaring hadn’t helped any… Never one to apologize, Ashenfang snapped the end of his tail in sharp directory, a spray of water flinging droplets from his sopping fur. ”Come on.” He grumbled gruffly, heading for the bank with purposeful gait, not waiting to see if she would follow. He’d tried to save her once already, he wouldn’t make a second trip into those cold waters.

tagged | ` r i v e r
notes | sorry for how long it got >.<  hope it's okay! <3
words | 2170