[Fawn]

After his departure from camp, Fawnsqueak had been on the run.

Escape into the territory, collect his thoughts, return to camp when he would be in the clear. As in, not deputy. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach had gnawed at him with sneaking suspicions that his lack of presence may not have been enough to stop Lionstar, depending on how determined he was about this deputy business... and he still didn't understand why. Nothing about him translated into good leadership. Fawnsqueak recognized that he was a mere apprentice who'd gotten lucky in an early promotion debatable in its validity.

His troubled walk through the RiverClan territory had landed him near the wide clearing toward the beach, another mindless trek for the soul that yearned for numbness, peace and quiet instead of racing thoughts for a change. While he was far from a meditative state, his journey along the beach and its cliffs had yielded a different distraction: an odd clump positioned in the mouth of a seaside cave. Squinting proved useless, minus a basic observation: that didn't belong there.

The ascent was slow-going and difficult, rendering him a huffing and puffing mess of aching muscles by the time he reached the higher tiers of jagged crags lining the edge of the overlook. The tang of saltwater and stone filled his nostrils as he drew closer to the cave, inching in tentative, shaky steps. Heights didn't scare him, but the notion of falling to his death on these slim ledges certainly did.

However, his reservations reduced drastically as recognition floored him. Stunned, Fawnsqueak could only stare in breathless silence -- he knew that pelt, he knew the mangled shape, and the conclusion twisted his stomach. Willowpaw. He didn't remember crying her name through a cracking voice, nor did he remember the almost-careless, staggering bolt to her body that sent his former platforms crumbling into the ocean below.

Overwhelming grief drowned his previous fretting with a devastating discovery far more pressing than any stupid rank in the Clan. And Fawnsqueak couldn't bring himself to be concerned about the vanishing ledge either-- he just wanted to be close to Willowpaw for a final time.

- - -

He didn't know how long he'd waited there, but the trance was broken by Lionstar's loud calls up the coastline. Unmistakable, and.. Fawnsqueak couldn't muster any dread. Hauling up his heavy bones, he turned toward the endless sky as if to ask, "Lionstorm? ...Is that actually you?"

It was so surreal, impossible. Why would Lionstar have traveled to find him? The concept of his disappearance and time spent away from the Clan eluded him in the throes of processing loss.


@BILL.