Much to Dallas' chagrin, the hunting lessons she was keen on learning more about unfortunately had to wait but once revising his reasons, she decide it was better to shrug it off than persist for something so short-lived that could end in mayhem.
After a pleasant conversation with Cougarbite and with for once, a full belly, Dallas knew she wasn't the only one becoming sleepy. She gestured Dimple in front of her to crawl inside the cardboard box before heading inside herself. It didn't take long for Dimple to be already nestled comfortably at her side, fast asleep. "Thank you for everything, Cougar... I mean it, every little thing you've done today has helped us so much.." Dallas murmured softly, lulled by the rhythmic pattern of his tongue lapping at her pelt.
"That'd be perfect!" She cheered, mostly looking forward to Cougarbite being able to teach her something worth about hunting. Dimple's copper eyes brightened, if this meant she was able to be fed 3 meals a day- then she was in!
Dallas hopped up, her tail whirring eagerly behind her. "Well, come on, Cougar! What are you waiting for?" She then raised her head, inspecting her surroundings to get a good head start. "I think the rain's cleared up for the most part, if you're wondering." She added in.
Dallas' green-eyed gaze peered off to the side, a sheepish grin taking over her face. "Uhm," She started off with a small, short-lived laugh, "Well- Dimple and I figured out the hard way, I'm not exactly the greatest at hunting. So for an alternative, we usually scavenge for anything we can find. Trash bins? Bingo."
Dimple giggled at her response, the memory of her trying to hunt (that ended in catastrophe, might I add) clearer than ever in both of their minds.
A deep frown tugged at Dallas' face at his devastating story. And it seems to just have happened recently... Poor baby. The she-cat knew it was a deliberate decision when she leaned forward and pulled him into a tender hug, but she didn't bother to give it much thought. In front of her, she only saw a tom-cat with a broken, desolated heart. And to see Cougar break down like that- her mind was imploring her even more to try to fix it with all her might.
Dallas hummed softly, a similar method she used to help soothe Dimple whenever she had one of her tantrums. "It's all okay, sweetheart... You know, it doesn't hurt to let out all those bad feelings every once and a while. After what you've gone through- it couldn't be any more understandable why you're feeling so many emotions." She paused, pulling away from the enveloping hug. She cradled Dimple closer to her side. "I'm sorry for your loss, Cougar. Tawnyheart... She must've been an angel. Bless her heart."
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Jul 23, 2018
Rising:
Risingstar made his way through Loner City. It had been some time since he had braved the streets, passed the various bars, inhaled the stale scents of smoke and rotting wood. Despite his rather foul surroundings he found it comforting. Simpler. He was able to forget that he was leader of EarthClan, head of a failed attack that had injured his clan and left them without medicinal supplies to face the harshness of leaf bare. He was able to forget that his days were numbered, thanks to these parasites in his heart.
The crimson tom’s ears flicked at the quiet hum of voices. A crowd had gathered down some alleyway, mostly a scene of mangy cats. They stood in a circle, barring Risingstar’s sight of the center.
River:
Sharp rocks, shards of broken glass, and old, rusty shreds of scrap metal scraped roughly through Glasswind’s side as he was thrown across the arena - an arena loosely defined by wherever the surrounding ring of crowd was standing. The shouts of the spectators were a dull roar in Glass’s ears, drowned out by an incessant ringing in his head - the result of a particularly hard collision between his skull and the pavement.
Rising:
Risingstar pushed his way towards the head of the crowd, breaking the ranks of ravenous spectators as he attempted to see what was happening. He had witnessed a few arena fights before, but the thought of it had his blood pounding more than usual. After feeling the heat of battle himself, it seemed sick that others would watch two cats rip each other apart for sport.
Risingstar’s horror was only magnified when he realized who was facing off against the city rat.
“Glasswind?” His words were drowned in the roar of the crowd.
River:
Risingstar’s words didn’t even come close to breaching Glasswind’s mind, lost to the sea of noise in the crowd and in his head. Glass struggled to situate a paw beneath him, pushing himself up with a grunt. A sharp pain flared through his freshly scratch-littered side, yet the pain wasn’t exactly unpleasant - something about it was comforting, almost. The chaos of the fight, the frenzied cheers of the crowd, the animalistic grunts of the fighters, the rush of adrenaline in response to pain - there was something oddly intimate about it all. A sense of reality just strong enough to break through the cloud of numbness that had settled itself over Glasswind in the past weeks.
Glass’s opponent was a brute of a creature; though he couldn’t see the tom, his weight and size had become apparent when he’d taken it upon himself to leap from a nearby dumpster and crush Glass.
The fight hadn’t been going too well.
Glasswind staggered forward a few steps, swaying uneasily. Claws stained with blood - most of it his own - scratched restlessly, even anxiously, against the pavement beneath his paws, as he searched out any sound of his opponent. This time, the blow came from behind - the tom, who the crowd cheered on as ‘Crow’, launched himself at Glass in a powerful leap, landing atop his opponent and sending them both crashing to the ground. In a matter of seconds, Glass was pinned beneath the large, grey-black tom, his head pressed roughly against the pavement by a paw on his neck, claws resting mockingly against the vulnerable skin.
Rising:
Risingstar continued to stare at the scene in shock, his brain unable to process the sight before him. His honorable deputy… His collected, calm, put-the-clan-first deputy was stretched out on a dusty city street, the claws of a loner to the back of his neck. Is this what he’s been doing? Where he’s been?
He didn’t call out to Glasswind again, just shouldered himself to the front of the crowd and watched with bated breath. He wouldn’t insert himself into the fight. He knew enough of gang and loner culture to know the crowd would quickly turn on both him and Glasswind if he attempted to interfere.
River:
Glasswind struggled beneath his opponent for a few seconds, before allowing himself to fall limp, accepting his defeat - even such a simple, nonverbal admission was disturbingly far from the cat he’d once been. Above him, Crow let out a sharp bark of laughter, a smirk twisting its way across his features.
“I thought I told you to get lost, last time you got yourself beaten to a pulp.”
Glasswind gave no reply, grunting as he gave another sudden jerk, attempting to free himself from the other’s hold. Though his attempts were fruitless, his opponent soon stepped away, giving an arrogant snort.
“Go home. You don’t belong here, cripple. Not anymore.”
Glasswind remained in his silence, again, and struggled to his feet, stumbling towards the crowd.
Rising:
Last time.
The words rung in Risingstar’s head, giving him all the background information about this particular past time that he needed. Glasswind was well known around this crowd.
He wanted to react with anger, but what right did he have to face Glasswind with a holier than thou attitude when he himself had slipped into Loner City to escape his demons? He hadn’t been looking to get his face bashed in, no, but he was out seeking his old bars. His old companions. Anything to keep him from facing the realization that his sickness would soon consume him. Anything to keep from thinking about how little time he had left.
“Glasswind,” The exclamation escaped him as the blind tom-cat stumbled towards the crowd. Risingstar shuffled to the side, intercepting Glasswind’s stumble and lowering his shoulder so that the deputy could lean against him. “Glass- what… what the hell are you doing out here, man?” The question was not accusatory, merely struggling. Desperate.
River:
Glasswind froze in his tracks at Risingstar’s exclamation, fatigued muscles tensing up as the leader was suddenly at his side.
“Risingstar… I-” Glass stopped abruptly, cut off by a sudden, harsh fit of coughing, a few drops of blood splattering on his paws. The fit passed after a few seconds, and Glass attempted to regain what little composure he’d had.
What was he doing out here? Glasswind hesitated - because, although he knew the answer, he could barely admit it to himself, let alone Risingstar. As much as Risingstar’s tone didn’t seem to be one of disappointment, there was a vivid sense of letting him - and everyone - down, that Glass couldn’t quite dispel.
“I… I don’t know,” Glasswind murmured quietly. He paused for a moment, head hanging low, leaning heavily against Risingstar.
“I’m… struggling.” The words were almost a question, layered so thickly with uncertainty. Not the uncertainty of a question, strictly, but the uncertainty of denial.
Rising:
Risingstar felt himself deflate, like a ball of hot air rushing out of a torn balloon. He shrunk in on himself, eyes filling with barely contained pain as he faced the fact that the strongest tom he knew was suffering. He had initially assumed that this would pass. Glasswind would find his stride and would lead the clan with all the confidence and gusto he had possessed as a younger tom.
No, no, Glass, you can’t. When I’m gone they’re going to need you.
But he couldn’t tell Glasswind that. He couldn’t bring up his own flickering mortality. Not now. “Glasswind, I… you… No one is expecting you to rebound perfectly from this. I’m not, and the clan certainly isn’t but they’re still more than willing to support you. You’re still a great leader. A great authority figure. With all of this going on, with your… blinding… well you’re just even more of an inspiration than you were before.”
“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove yourself like this.”
River:
Glasswind shook his head softly, “It’s not about… proving myself. I mean, maybe it is, I- I don’t know. But really, it’s just about… forgetting?”
Every word seemed so doubtful, so uneasy. There was barely a shred of confidence in the tom’s voice, accompanying much more than a shred of frustration. Glasswind sighed, gesturing to Risingstar to follow him with a quick flick of his tail, and hastily distancing them from the crowd. The mass of cats paid them no mind, and Glass led them out of the alley, into the silent street.
“Do you know… anything about me, Risingstar? Who I was? Before EarthClan, I mean.” The words weren’t an accusation in the slightest, not intended to convey a message that the other couldn’t understand him - they were simply a question.
Rising:
“No… I know a little bit. That you knew Wren but… no. I don’t,” Risingstar returned, his voice slightly guarded as he followed Glasswind into the alleyway. “I suppose now’s the time to share?”
River:
“I come from the city,” Glasswind begun. ‘I come from the city’ rather than ‘I came’ was clear. The latter was too distant for how recent the memories seemed. “I was born and raised in a gang, locked in a constant state of war with rival gangs around the city. The wars were violent, bloody, senseless - if you think clan wars are ugly, think again.”
A faint smile flickered across Glasswind’s features as he continued, “I met Wren in one of my first battles - he was a soldier of an enemy gang, whose comrades had turned on him for no apparent reason and left him for dead. I brought him back to our healers, sat through an hour or two of lecturing on bringing spies into our camp, but really, there wasn’t much chance he could do us harm.
“We fought together, trained together - everything. He was like - he is like, I suppose - a brother to me. We were unstoppable - Wren and I, and our gang. On the rise to become one of the most formidable gangs in that city - until everything just… fell apart. We went into a battle, were ambushed, almost everyone was killed. I watched him fall off a building that day - I watched him slip from my own grasp, fall from that rooftop. I watched him die. I should’ve bled out on that rooftop myself, but by some otherworldly miracle, I managed to make it here - to EarthClan, I mean.
“I never intended to stay… but by the time I’d healed enough to make the journey back to the city, I guess I’d just grown to like it here a bit more than I’d liked the chaos back there… anyways, my point is, Risingstar, the city is my home. It always was, and quite honestly, it still is. It’s like the old habit that never leaves - no matter how much I love EarthClan, I will always call the city home. I… after I… lost my vision… I was in shock for a while, I think. Now I’m just… numb. I feel so lost… and when you feel lost, it only makes sense to seek out what you know. The roar of monsters on the streets, the sting of laugh pavement beneath your paws, the scent of metal and wood and dirt - this is my home. And the fight - the fight is what I know. I was raised to be a fighter, I grew up in pointless blood shed, fuelled solely by our primal instincts to have more, to be better, to be in control. That’s what the fight is - it’s senseless, it’s chaotic, but it makes me feel… something. Just a little bit more than the nothing I usually feel. I’m just… I’m just looking for by home, Risingstar. Once it was here, but now… now I’m not sure where I belong. Some days I wish I’d never left the city - some days I hate our clan with every fibre in my being… not because I truly hate it, but because every step I take in that territory, every scent of our rivers and every voice of an EarthClanner - it all reminds me of what I left behind, of every mistake I’ve made because I left the city. It reminds me that I used to love EarthClan - and it reminds me that what’s happened here has made me hate it.”
Glasswind shook his head softly, letting out a long, troubled sigh.
“I don’t hate our clan, Risingstar. I don’t know what I hate - being blind, this world, this life… myself… I’m not sure, I just… I feel lost, and I… I’ve always known where I belong, I’ve always known where I am and where I’m going - and now, for the first time in my life, I don’t and I don’t know how to deal with that. With this, all of this. And I’m… I’m scared. No, I’m terrified.”
Rising:
“You don’t know where you belong? Well, good. Welcome to EarthClan. That’s the whole point, the whole StarClan blessed, Dark Forest forsaken point,” Risingstar’s response was riddled with the mirth of laughter, not because it was funny, but because he could do nothing else save for find the dark humor in the situation. He laughed because if he didn’t, he would cry, and now was not the time for self pity. Glasswind seemed to harbor enough to satisfy them both for some time.
It was funny. Funny how this situation reminded him that he was the leader of EarthClan, and he did not have the luxury of feeling sorry for himself. At the beginning of his leadership he did. He remained selfish, consumed by his own intentions. His own wants, his own desires, his own fears. But there was no longer a place in his life for his own shortcomings, as pronounced as they might be. Glasswind would come to realize it as well some day. He was certain of it.
“Be scared, be terrified, good. I’d be shaking if you weren’t because it would’ve meant that I chose the wrong deputy, but I didn’t. EarthClan isn’t your first home, it wasn’t mine either. In fact it doesn’t feel like your home to this day and that’s the point. It’s not. But it’s your family. That’s why you’ll keep going back, that’s why you’ll serve them to the best of your ability, and that’s why you’ll lead this clan well when I’m no longer around to do so. I can’t… force you to come to that conclusion, Glasswind. I can’t make the mind-numbing terror go away. I won’t say something that gets rid of the confusion. It’s going to be a hard, uphill battle, but I believe you’re going to do it. You’re going to find your way, and you are going to be a shining example of a leader despite your blindness and despite your terror.”
“You’ll find your way there. I can’t tell you how it’s going to happen because the ancestors know I didn’t take the best route myself… but it’ll happen. I can promise you that.” The crimson tom-cat fell silent for a brief moment, his gaze wandering out of the alleyway. He was plagued by a brief fit of coughing, blood stained spittle left clinging to his lip. “But can we just forget everything for right now? Just forget about all the troubles and walk back to EarthClan with me. Come back to your family.”
He wouldn’t make a second offer. Glasswind’s future was his to write, and Risingstar couldn’t force a decision upon him.
River:
Risingstar spoke, and Glasswind heard a choice - the words were an offer, very clearly.
He could turn and leave it all behind. Go back to the city, back to his gang - wherever they were now. He could walk away… or he could walk back.
Glasswind hesitated for a few seconds, and that hesitation scared him, on both ends of the spectrum. It was scary to think part of him actually didn’t want to go back to EarthClan, the closest thing he had to a home - but it was also scary to think part of him did want to go back there.
“I…” Glasswind tried to respond, but found no words. What did he want to do?
Rising:
“Glass, I-,” The shell cracked, voice breaking as Risingstar’s very real fear and very real existential crisis came crumbling down around him. Yes, it was Glasswind’s choice, but he couldn’t imagine returning to EarthClan, in the midst of his death sentence, without his deputy. “I got to be honest with you, man… Um,” He paused, sniffed as he maintained his composure just enough to hold back tears. “That seizure that I had? I talked to Greentongue about it and… and he said best case scenario is the seizures continue but can be managed for a while but it means any amount of stress can have me just blacking out. Now, I can’t be leader with that hanging over my head, not for much longer. Worst case scenario he… he told me about a soldier who died from his injuries following a seizure… one he helped treat. The soldier had similar symptoms to me. The coughing, losing weight, vomiting, and then into the seizures… and after the soldier died they opened up his heart and it was filled with worms. Yes, the injuries killed him, but Greentongue doesn’t think he would have made it much longer anyway…”
“I’m at the seizure stage… I… I have these things inside of me and they’re going to kill me. Soon. It could be days, it could be weeks but… but my days are numbered, Glass. Blind or not. Crisis or not… EarthClan needs you.”
“I need you.”
“So don’t you let me go back alone. Don’t you stay here and turn your back on our family, on me!” He could no longer hold the tears at bay, and they slid down the edges of his face as his burning emerald gaze held Glasswind’s. “So come home. Please.”
River:
Glasswind couldn’t see the tears, but he could almost feel them - it was something in Risingstar’s voice, the way it slowly broke. Glasswind ducked his head, running a claw uneasily along the pavement.
“I…”
As desperate and pleading as Risingstar’s voice was, it was still only a plea - not an order. He could still turn away… but did he want to?
Turning away… would just be running. Glass had never been entirely sure why he hadn’t gone back to the city once he’d healed in EarthClan - now, he grasped a thread of clarity. He’d been running - avoiding confrontation of Wren’s death. He’d buried it for moons - he’d almost succeeded in letting denial win out forever. But had that really done him any good?
“I, um…” Glasswind raised his head, taking in a slow, deep breath. “Rising, I… I can’t make any promises.” Glass paused, the claw that had scratched rhythmically against the pavement coming to rest. “But I…”
Glasswind visibly relaxed in a resigned manner - not indicative of defeat, but of an odd serenity. He gave a small nod, and a quiet sigh. “Let’s go home.”
"Cougarbite? EclipseClan?" Dallas echoed, creasing her brow in confusion at the bizarre names mentioned. Maybe Dimple has heard of that? She glanced down at Dimple for any advice, but the sandy kit was too occupied of clinging to her leg to pay enough attention. The she-cat drew in a quick breath, her heart rate and adrenaline yet to simmer down. "Cougar, your name was? It's alright- don't stress yourself over it too much. No damage was done, and that's all that matters." Dallas reassured Cougarbite, a small splinter of a smile crossing her face.
Once Cougarbite had slipped out of the alley in search of prey, the she-cat diverted her attention to Dimple. She needed it most, after all that nerve-racking experience. "Now we know this city couldn't possibly get any more dangerous, could it?" The bi-color cat giggled, attempting to make light of their predicament. The kit replied merely with a nervous smile, her weary thoughts too fixated on Cougarbite.
There wasn't much conversation between the two before Dallas sensed Cougar pulling up behind the corner, a surprisingly large pigeon wedged between his jaws. As he plopped down the bird before her, she dipped her head in thanks, and straightaway, she began digging in alongside with her kit. Dallas suddenly piped up between mouthfuls, "I don't think I got to introduce us earlier- I'm Dallas. And this baby doll is Dimple. We came from the South- originally from a barn. Maybe that'll explain why we're so terrible at living here."
Dallas squealed, instinctively ducking down as a massive figure lunged at her from the lurking shadows. Having not collected any knowledge of battle training, especially against someone like him- she was left with the only option of surrendering. Though before she was given the chance to act, the tom had withdrew and loosened his pinning grip on her, much to her bewilderment.
As the massive tom leapt at Dallas, Dimple stumbled back in fright and tripped on the pavement, her rear end taking the hit. "Auntie!" She wailed, scrambling back up as fast as she tumbled down, and raced to Dallas' defense. "G-Get away from her, you big meanie!" The sandy kit sniffled, crouching near her side. "Dallas, Dallas, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!"
The she-cat clicked out of her trance as soon as she heard Dimple sniffling, "No, no, baby, I'm alright, I'm alright. Just- just a little shocked." Dallas straightened up, her eyes drifting to the brown tom standing worriedly in front of them. Considering how he had easily overpowered her, the she-cat ventured cautiously. "...Would you mind telling me who you are?"
A thin, black and white she-cat hastily shuffled through the pelting rain, her brisk pace not doing much of anything to prevent her tuxedo coat from being drenched in rainwater. A small, sand-colored kit trailed behind her, occasionally dodging the large puddles that accumulated onto the ground. "Auntie... How long will this rain keep up?" She whined, her voice buffeted by the ferocity of the winds. It nearly took all the kit's energy to not be swept away in the whirlwind of water.
"Dimple- baby, hold on. There's gonna be somewhere for us to stay." The bi-color female turned her neck to look back at Dimple. Her speed slowed down a notch, and she motioned for the kit to huddle underneath her legs.
"But Dallas- I wanna get outta the rain now!" Dimple protested, as Dallas' attempt of sheltering her didn't seem to be working.
"Sweet cheeks, I kn-" Dallas cut herself off as she neared a corner, which extended out into a lengthy alley. A dumpster sat far back in the corner, which from the looks of it, seemed to provide enough cover for the two of them. Her dark, green eyes brightened- and without warning, the she-cat rushed over to the boxy item, accidentally leaving Dimple behind at the alleyway's entrance.
Much to Dallas' chagrin, the hunting lessons she was keen on learning more about unfortunately had to wait but once revising his reasons, she decide it was better to shrug it off than persist for something so short-lived that could end in mayhem.
After a pleasant conversation with Cougarbite and with for once, a full belly, Dallas knew she wasn't the only one becoming sleepy. She gestured Dimple in front of her to crawl inside the cardboard box before heading inside herself. It didn't take long for Dimple to be already nestled comfortably at her side, fast asleep. "Thank you for everything, Cougar... I mean it, every little thing you've done today has helped us so much.." Dallas murmured softly, lulled by the rhythmic pattern of his tongue lapping at her pelt.
"That'd be perfect!" She cheered, mostly looking forward to Cougarbite being able to teach her something worth about hunting. Dimple's copper eyes brightened, if this meant she was able to be fed 3 meals a day- then she was in!
Dallas hopped up, her tail whirring eagerly behind her. "Well, come on, Cougar! What are you waiting for?" She then raised her head, inspecting her surroundings to get a good head start. "I think the rain's cleared up for the most part, if you're wondering." She added in.
Dallas' green-eyed gaze peered off to the side, a sheepish grin taking over her face. "Uhm," She started off with a small, short-lived laugh, "Well- Dimple and I figured out the hard way, I'm not exactly the greatest at hunting. So for an alternative, we usually scavenge for anything we can find. Trash bins? Bingo."
Dimple giggled at her response, the memory of her trying to hunt (that ended in catastrophe, might I add) clearer than ever in both of their minds.
A deep frown tugged at Dallas' face at his devastating story. And it seems to just have happened recently... Poor baby. The she-cat knew it was a deliberate decision when she leaned forward and pulled him into a tender hug, but she didn't bother to give it much thought. In front of her, she only saw a tom-cat with a broken, desolated heart. And to see Cougar break down like that- her mind was imploring her even more to try to fix it with all her might.
Dallas hummed softly, a similar method she used to help soothe Dimple whenever she had one of her tantrums. "It's all okay, sweetheart... You know, it doesn't hurt to let out all those bad feelings every once and a while. After what you've gone through- it couldn't be any more understandable why you're feeling so many emotions." She paused, pulling away from the enveloping hug. She cradled Dimple closer to her side. "I'm sorry for your loss, Cougar. Tawnyheart... She must've been an angel. Bless her heart."
Rising:
Risingstar made his way through Loner City. It had been some time since he had braved the streets, passed the various bars, inhaled the stale scents of smoke and rotting wood. Despite his rather foul surroundings he found it comforting. Simpler. He was able to forget that he was leader of EarthClan, head of a failed attack that had injured his clan and left them without medicinal supplies to face the harshness of leaf bare. He was able to forget that his days were numbered, thanks to these parasites in his heart.
The crimson tom’s ears flicked at the quiet hum of voices. A crowd had gathered down some alleyway, mostly a scene of mangy cats. They stood in a circle, barring Risingstar’s sight of the center.
River:
Sharp rocks, shards of broken glass, and old, rusty shreds of scrap metal scraped roughly through Glasswind’s side as he was thrown across the arena - an arena loosely defined by wherever the surrounding ring of crowd was standing. The shouts of the spectators were a dull roar in Glass’s ears, drowned out by an incessant ringing in his head - the result of a particularly hard collision between his skull and the pavement.
Rising:
Risingstar pushed his way towards the head of the crowd, breaking the ranks of ravenous spectators as he attempted to see what was happening. He had witnessed a few arena fights before, but the thought of it had his blood pounding more than usual. After feeling the heat of battle himself, it seemed sick that others would watch two cats rip each other apart for sport.
Risingstar’s horror was only magnified when he realized who was facing off against the city rat.
“Glasswind?” His words were drowned in the roar of the crowd.
River:
Risingstar’s words didn’t even come close to breaching Glasswind’s mind, lost to the sea of noise in the crowd and in his head. Glass struggled to situate a paw beneath him, pushing himself up with a grunt. A sharp pain flared through his freshly scratch-littered side, yet the pain wasn’t exactly unpleasant - something about it was comforting, almost. The chaos of the fight, the frenzied cheers of the crowd, the animalistic grunts of the fighters, the rush of adrenaline in response to pain - there was something oddly intimate about it all. A sense of reality just strong enough to break through the cloud of numbness that had settled itself over Glasswind in the past weeks.
Glass’s opponent was a brute of a creature; though he couldn’t see the tom, his weight and size had become apparent when he’d taken it upon himself to leap from a nearby dumpster and crush Glass.
The fight hadn’t been going too well.
Glasswind staggered forward a few steps, swaying uneasily. Claws stained with blood - most of it his own - scratched restlessly, even anxiously, against the pavement beneath his paws, as he searched out any sound of his opponent. This time, the blow came from behind - the tom, who the crowd cheered on as ‘Crow’, launched himself at Glass in a powerful leap, landing atop his opponent and sending them both crashing to the ground. In a matter of seconds, Glass was pinned beneath the large, grey-black tom, his head pressed roughly against the pavement by a paw on his neck, claws resting mockingly against the vulnerable skin.
Rising:
Risingstar continued to stare at the scene in shock, his brain unable to process the sight before him. His honorable deputy… His collected, calm, put-the-clan-first deputy was stretched out on a dusty city street, the claws of a loner to the back of his neck. Is this what he’s been doing? Where he’s been?
He didn’t call out to Glasswind again, just shouldered himself to the front of the crowd and watched with bated breath. He wouldn’t insert himself into the fight. He knew enough of gang and loner culture to know the crowd would quickly turn on both him and Glasswind if he attempted to interfere.
River:
Glasswind struggled beneath his opponent for a few seconds, before allowing himself to fall limp, accepting his defeat - even such a simple, nonverbal admission was disturbingly far from the cat he’d once been. Above him, Crow let out a sharp bark of laughter, a smirk twisting its way across his features.
“I thought I told you to get lost, last time you got yourself beaten to a pulp.”
Glasswind gave no reply, grunting as he gave another sudden jerk, attempting to free himself from the other’s hold. Though his attempts were fruitless, his opponent soon stepped away, giving an arrogant snort.
“Go home. You don’t belong here, cripple. Not anymore.”
Glasswind remained in his silence, again, and struggled to his feet, stumbling towards the crowd.
Rising:
Last time.
The words rung in Risingstar’s head, giving him all the background information about this particular past time that he needed. Glasswind was well known around this crowd.
He wanted to react with anger, but what right did he have to face Glasswind with a holier than thou attitude when he himself had slipped into Loner City to escape his demons? He hadn’t been looking to get his face bashed in, no, but he was out seeking his old bars. His old companions. Anything to keep him from facing the realization that his sickness would soon consume him. Anything to keep from thinking about how little time he had left.
“Glasswind,” The exclamation escaped him as the blind tom-cat stumbled towards the crowd. Risingstar shuffled to the side, intercepting Glasswind’s stumble and lowering his shoulder so that the deputy could lean against him. “Glass- what… what the hell are you doing out here, man?” The question was not accusatory, merely struggling. Desperate.
River:
Glasswind froze in his tracks at Risingstar’s exclamation, fatigued muscles tensing up as the leader was suddenly at his side.
“Risingstar… I-” Glass stopped abruptly, cut off by a sudden, harsh fit of coughing, a few drops of blood splattering on his paws. The fit passed after a few seconds, and Glass attempted to regain what little composure he’d had.
What was he doing out here? Glasswind hesitated - because, although he knew the answer, he could barely admit it to himself, let alone Risingstar. As much as Risingstar’s tone didn’t seem to be one of disappointment, there was a vivid sense of letting him - and everyone - down, that Glass couldn’t quite dispel.
“I… I don’t know,” Glasswind murmured quietly. He paused for a moment, head hanging low, leaning heavily against Risingstar.
“I’m… struggling.” The words were almost a question, layered so thickly with uncertainty. Not the uncertainty of a question, strictly, but the uncertainty of denial.
Rising:
Risingstar felt himself deflate, like a ball of hot air rushing out of a torn balloon. He shrunk in on himself, eyes filling with barely contained pain as he faced the fact that the strongest tom he knew was suffering. He had initially assumed that this would pass. Glasswind would find his stride and would lead the clan with all the confidence and gusto he had possessed as a younger tom.
No, no, Glass, you can’t. When I’m gone they’re going to need you.
But he couldn’t tell Glasswind that. He couldn’t bring up his own flickering mortality. Not now. “Glasswind, I… you… No one is expecting you to rebound perfectly from this. I’m not, and the clan certainly isn’t but they’re still more than willing to support you. You’re still a great leader. A great authority figure. With all of this going on, with your… blinding… well you’re just even more of an inspiration than you were before.”
“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove yourself like this.”
River:
Glasswind shook his head softly, “It’s not about… proving myself. I mean, maybe it is, I- I don’t know. But really, it’s just about… forgetting?”
Every word seemed so doubtful, so uneasy. There was barely a shred of confidence in the tom’s voice, accompanying much more than a shred of frustration. Glasswind sighed, gesturing to Risingstar to follow him with a quick flick of his tail, and hastily distancing them from the crowd. The mass of cats paid them no mind, and Glass led them out of the alley, into the silent street.
“Do you know… anything about me, Risingstar? Who I was? Before EarthClan, I mean.” The words weren’t an accusation in the slightest, not intended to convey a message that the other couldn’t understand him - they were simply a question.
Rising:
“No… I know a little bit. That you knew Wren but… no. I don’t,” Risingstar returned, his voice slightly guarded as he followed Glasswind into the alleyway. “I suppose now’s the time to share?”
River:
“I come from the city,” Glasswind begun. ‘I come from the city’ rather than ‘I came’ was clear. The latter was too distant for how recent the memories seemed. “I was born and raised in a gang, locked in a constant state of war with rival gangs around the city. The wars were violent, bloody, senseless - if you think clan wars are ugly, think again.”
A faint smile flickered across Glasswind’s features as he continued, “I met Wren in one of my first battles - he was a soldier of an enemy gang, whose comrades had turned on him for no apparent reason and left him for dead. I brought him back to our healers, sat through an hour or two of lecturing on bringing spies into our camp, but really, there wasn’t much chance he could do us harm.
“We fought together, trained together - everything. He was like - he is like, I suppose - a brother to me. We were unstoppable - Wren and I, and our gang. On the rise to become one of the most formidable gangs in that city - until everything just… fell apart. We went into a battle, were ambushed, almost everyone was killed. I watched him fall off a building that day - I watched him slip from my own grasp, fall from that rooftop. I watched him die. I should’ve bled out on that rooftop myself, but by some otherworldly miracle, I managed to make it here - to EarthClan, I mean.
“I never intended to stay… but by the time I’d healed enough to make the journey back to the city, I guess I’d just grown to like it here a bit more than I’d liked the chaos back there… anyways, my point is, Risingstar, the city is my home. It always was, and quite honestly, it still is. It’s like the old habit that never leaves - no matter how much I love EarthClan, I will always call the city home. I… after I… lost my vision… I was in shock for a while, I think. Now I’m just… numb. I feel so lost… and when you feel lost, it only makes sense to seek out what you know. The roar of monsters on the streets, the sting of laugh pavement beneath your paws, the scent of metal and wood and dirt - this is my home. And the fight - the fight is what I know. I was raised to be a fighter, I grew up in pointless blood shed, fuelled solely by our primal instincts to have more, to be better, to be in control. That’s what the fight is - it’s senseless, it’s chaotic, but it makes me feel… something. Just a little bit more than the nothing I usually feel. I’m just… I’m just looking for by home, Risingstar. Once it was here, but now… now I’m not sure where I belong. Some days I wish I’d never left the city - some days I hate our clan with every fibre in my being… not because I truly hate it, but because every step I take in that territory, every scent of our rivers and every voice of an EarthClanner - it all reminds me of what I left behind, of every mistake I’ve made because I left the city. It reminds me that I used to love EarthClan - and it reminds me that what’s happened here has made me hate it.”
Glasswind shook his head softly, letting out a long, troubled sigh.
“I don’t hate our clan, Risingstar. I don’t know what I hate - being blind, this world, this life… myself… I’m not sure, I just… I feel lost, and I… I’ve always known where I belong, I’ve always known where I am and where I’m going - and now, for the first time in my life, I don’t and I don’t know how to deal with that. With this, all of this. And I’m… I’m scared. No, I’m terrified.”
Rising:
“You don’t know where you belong? Well, good. Welcome to EarthClan. That’s the whole point, the whole StarClan blessed, Dark Forest forsaken point,” Risingstar’s response was riddled with the mirth of laughter, not because it was funny, but because he could do nothing else save for find the dark humor in the situation. He laughed because if he didn’t, he would cry, and now was not the time for self pity. Glasswind seemed to harbor enough to satisfy them both for some time.
It was funny. Funny how this situation reminded him that he was the leader of EarthClan, and he did not have the luxury of feeling sorry for himself. At the beginning of his leadership he did. He remained selfish, consumed by his own intentions. His own wants, his own desires, his own fears. But there was no longer a place in his life for his own shortcomings, as pronounced as they might be. Glasswind would come to realize it as well some day. He was certain of it.
“Be scared, be terrified, good. I’d be shaking if you weren’t because it would’ve meant that I chose the wrong deputy, but I didn’t. EarthClan isn’t your first home, it wasn’t mine either. In fact it doesn’t feel like your home to this day and that’s the point. It’s not. But it’s your family. That’s why you’ll keep going back, that’s why you’ll serve them to the best of your ability, and that’s why you’ll lead this clan well when I’m no longer around to do so. I can’t… force you to come to that conclusion, Glasswind. I can’t make the mind-numbing terror go away. I won’t say something that gets rid of the confusion. It’s going to be a hard, uphill battle, but I believe you’re going to do it. You’re going to find your way, and you are going to be a shining example of a leader despite your blindness and despite your terror.”
“You’ll find your way there. I can’t tell you how it’s going to happen because the ancestors know I didn’t take the best route myself… but it’ll happen. I can promise you that.” The crimson tom-cat fell silent for a brief moment, his gaze wandering out of the alleyway. He was plagued by a brief fit of coughing, blood stained spittle left clinging to his lip. “But can we just forget everything for right now? Just forget about all the troubles and walk back to EarthClan with me. Come back to your family.”
He wouldn’t make a second offer. Glasswind’s future was his to write, and Risingstar couldn’t force a decision upon him.
River:
Risingstar spoke, and Glasswind heard a choice - the words were an offer, very clearly.
He could turn and leave it all behind. Go back to the city, back to his gang - wherever they were now. He could walk away… or he could walk back.
Glasswind hesitated for a few seconds, and that hesitation scared him, on both ends of the spectrum. It was scary to think part of him actually didn’t want to go back to EarthClan, the closest thing he had to a home - but it was also scary to think part of him did want to go back there.
“I…” Glasswind tried to respond, but found no words. What did he want to do?
Rising:
“Glass, I-,” The shell cracked, voice breaking as Risingstar’s very real fear and very real existential crisis came crumbling down around him. Yes, it was Glasswind’s choice, but he couldn’t imagine returning to EarthClan, in the midst of his death sentence, without his deputy. “I got to be honest with you, man… Um,” He paused, sniffed as he maintained his composure just enough to hold back tears. “That seizure that I had? I talked to Greentongue about it and… and he said best case scenario is the seizures continue but can be managed for a while but it means any amount of stress can have me just blacking out. Now, I can’t be leader with that hanging over my head, not for much longer. Worst case scenario he… he told me about a soldier who died from his injuries following a seizure… one he helped treat. The soldier had similar symptoms to me. The coughing, losing weight, vomiting, and then into the seizures… and after the soldier died they opened up his heart and it was filled with worms. Yes, the injuries killed him, but Greentongue doesn’t think he would have made it much longer anyway…”
“I’m at the seizure stage… I… I have these things inside of me and they’re going to kill me. Soon. It could be days, it could be weeks but… but my days are numbered, Glass. Blind or not. Crisis or not… EarthClan needs you.”
“I need you.”
“So don’t you let me go back alone. Don’t you stay here and turn your back on our family, on me!” He could no longer hold the tears at bay, and they slid down the edges of his face as his burning emerald gaze held Glasswind’s. “So come home. Please.”
River:
Glasswind couldn’t see the tears, but he could almost feel them - it was something in Risingstar’s voice, the way it slowly broke. Glasswind ducked his head, running a claw uneasily along the pavement.
“I…”
As desperate and pleading as Risingstar’s voice was, it was still only a plea - not an order. He could still turn away… but did he want to?
Turning away… would just be running. Glass had never been entirely sure why he hadn’t gone back to the city once he’d healed in EarthClan - now, he grasped a thread of clarity. He’d been running - avoiding confrontation of Wren’s death. He’d buried it for moons - he’d almost succeeded in letting denial win out forever. But had that really done him any good?
“I, um…” Glasswind raised his head, taking in a slow, deep breath. “Rising, I… I can’t make any promises.” Glass paused, the claw that had scratched rhythmically against the pavement coming to rest. “But I…”
Glasswind visibly relaxed in a resigned manner - not indicative of defeat, but of an odd serenity. He gave a small nod, and a quiet sigh. “Let’s go home.”
"Cougarbite? EclipseClan?" Dallas echoed, creasing her brow in confusion at the bizarre names mentioned. Maybe Dimple has heard of that? She glanced down at Dimple for any advice, but the sandy kit was too occupied of clinging to her leg to pay enough attention. The she-cat drew in a quick breath, her heart rate and adrenaline yet to simmer down. "Cougar, your name was? It's alright- don't stress yourself over it too much. No damage was done, and that's all that matters." Dallas reassured Cougarbite, a small splinter of a smile crossing her face.
Once Cougarbite had slipped out of the alley in search of prey, the she-cat diverted her attention to Dimple. She needed it most, after all that nerve-racking experience. "Now we know this city couldn't possibly get any more dangerous, could it?" The bi-color cat giggled, attempting to make light of their predicament. The kit replied merely with a nervous smile, her weary thoughts too fixated on Cougarbite.
There wasn't much conversation between the two before Dallas sensed Cougar pulling up behind the corner, a surprisingly large pigeon wedged between his jaws. As he plopped down the bird before her, she dipped her head in thanks, and straightaway, she began digging in alongside with her kit. Dallas suddenly piped up between mouthfuls, "I don't think I got to introduce us earlier- I'm Dallas. And this baby doll is Dimple. We came from the South- originally from a barn. Maybe that'll explain why we're so terrible at living here."
Dallas squealed, instinctively ducking down as a massive figure lunged at her from the lurking shadows. Having not collected any knowledge of battle training, especially against someone like him- she was left with the only option of surrendering. Though before she was given the chance to act, the tom had withdrew and loosened his pinning grip on her, much to her bewilderment.
As the massive tom leapt at Dallas, Dimple stumbled back in fright and tripped on the pavement, her rear end taking the hit. "Auntie!" She wailed, scrambling back up as fast as she tumbled down, and raced to Dallas' defense. "G-Get away from her, you big meanie!" The sandy kit sniffled, crouching near her side. "Dallas, Dallas, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!"
The she-cat clicked out of her trance as soon as she heard Dimple sniffling, "No, no, baby, I'm alright, I'm alright. Just- just a little shocked." Dallas straightened up, her eyes drifting to the brown tom standing worriedly in front of them. Considering how he had easily overpowered her, the she-cat ventured cautiously. "...Would you mind telling me who you are?"
A thin, black and white she-cat hastily shuffled through the pelting rain, her brisk pace not doing much of anything to prevent her tuxedo coat from being drenched in rainwater. A small, sand-colored kit trailed behind her, occasionally dodging the large puddles that accumulated onto the ground. "Auntie... How long will this rain keep up?" She whined, her voice buffeted by the ferocity of the winds. It nearly took all the kit's energy to not be swept away in the whirlwind of water.
"Dimple- baby, hold on. There's gonna be somewhere for us to stay." The bi-color female turned her neck to look back at Dimple. Her speed slowed down a notch, and she motioned for the kit to huddle underneath her legs.
"But Dallas- I wanna get outta the rain now!" Dimple protested, as Dallas' attempt of sheltering her didn't seem to be working.
"Sweet cheeks, I kn-" Dallas cut herself off as she neared a corner, which extended out into a lengthy alley. A dumpster sat far back in the corner, which from the looks of it, seemed to provide enough cover for the two of them. Her dark, green eyes brightened- and without warning, the she-cat rushed over to the boxy item, accidentally leaving Dimple behind at the alleyway's entrance.