Warrior Cats Online - View Single Post

**Captain** · #**1659** February 16th, 2023, 01:26 AM

Laying comfortably on his left side in his soft moss nest, the dark-gray tomcat jerked awake at the sound of someone’s voice. Oh, fishsticks, how long had he been asleep for? Pikestar had just wanted to rest his eyes for a moment, not fall completely asleep. What time even was it? The large oriental longhair rolled onto his stomach and then sat up, his drowsy partial gaze sliding over to the mouth of his den. “Yes, you may come in.” He said, his words being followed by a loud yawn escaping his jaws. From where he was sitting, Pikestar could now recognize the familiar small shape of young Beetlekit, who was holding something in his mouth. They uttered a softened ‘mrrp’ of curiosity, wondering what he had. It wasn't often that he was brought gifts that weren't a piece of prey. "What's that you got there, Beetlebug?" They remarked with a light-hearted chuckle, hoping he won't mind a nickname of his own.

Staring intently down at the ground, the tall dark-furred clan leader was fully immersed in a small game of mossball with himself. With his right paw, he’d smack a tiny self-made ball of moss over to his left and repeat the process―back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Pikestar tended to get bored in this empty space that he called his den, and was aiming to find more ways to entertain himself in those moments that he had with himself. However, a gentle voice soon broke his concentration, making the oriental longhair flinch with surprise and smack the mossball towards his nest. Nothing to see here!

But wait... was that? "Beansprout?" Pikestar mewed, looking towards the maw of his den with immediate curiosity. And sure enough, there he was. The siamese tomcat was standing right outside his den, with a shrew along with him. "By the moon... Come in, come in." They exclaimed before ushering the RiverClan warrior in with one paw, "What.. How.. Where have you been?" Judging by his injuries, Beansprout had obviously been through quite an adventure. It was a miracle that he had returned home. Pikestar turned his body towards the small tomcat and rested his gray tail over his front paws.

Drawing his rough tongue over his chest fur in quick and sporadic licks, Pikestar lifted his head once he heard the sound of another cat from outside his den. Scenting the air, the large oriental tomcat recognized the smell of Tidepaw, one of RiverClan’s apprentices. “Come in.” He said with a quiet, casual tone. Easing himself into a laid down position, Pikestar tucked his paws neatly underneath his bushy chest fluff before settling into a relaxed loafing pose.

Dread overwhelmed the large oriental tomcat’s heart like an infectious disease that had no cure. It seemed like things were getting worse and worse like they were when he first became leader, but somehow this felt even more worse than that ever did. Pikestar felt like he was choking and suffocating every single day in this position, left to rot endlessly in this empty cage that he called his den. He never should have agreed to become a shield all those moons ago under Kestrelstar, nor a deputy under Skystar. Then, perhaps, things would’ve turned out better. He’d be happier maybe, he’d be able to smile without forcing it anymore, he wouldn’t have to feel so painfully alone while surrounded by his own clanmates. Yet they kept trudging on, for everyone else's sake.

The sound of Beastflame’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and the tall RiverClan leader took a breath before answering. “Yes, come in.” They dryly remarked, feeling like a hardened lump was keeping them from saying anything else. A threat on the territory? Pikestar could feel his own heart thumping roughly within him. Were the rogue attacks starting back up again? Or perhaps another clan here to take advantage of RiverClan when they were weak?

Ah. Pikestar nodded his head to the molly’s words, forcing a small smile to come to his tired expression. “Congratulations on your future little ones.” He remarked, white whiskers twitching as he spoke, “You’re free to move into the nursery whenever you’d like. Is there anything else?” They often didn't make these conversations this brief, but there were many things for him to do and he was exhausted. Hopefully, Mossdew would understand.

As the marbled she-cat crept into his barren den, Pikestar watched her with his one good eye, feeling the grief that clung to his friend’s pelt as she sat down somewhat close to where he was sitting. No matter what, she wouldn’t give him a lick of eye-contact, and the two of them would sit there together in silence for what felt like hours. The large oriental longhair was patient however, extremely, and gave Bluebellcrackle all the time she’d need to tell him what she was going through. His heart felt like it was being strangled, clenched in a tight fist, every passing second. He knew nothing good was coming.

And then his friend would finally speak, answering all his dreaded questions that loomed in his head. She's gone. Her mother was dead, after all this time, after all the hope that Pikestar had for her to pull through. It was futile. Tears would collect in the corner of his eye, which surprised him. Why was he the one crying? Why now? His heart screamed silently from within his ribcage with an indescribable pain for his dear friend. "I'm..." He stumbled over saying such a simple phrase, the tears disappearing into the thick fur on his cheek, "...I'm so sorry, Bluebellcrackle." Pikestar wanted to hug her, so so badly, but he didn't know if she wanted physical comfort. So the tall oriental did the only thing he could do now: open his arms to offer a hug to his companion.

Humming nonchalantly within the confines of his den, the slender dark-furred tomcat was soon greeted with the ever familiar face of Bluestone popping through the mouth of his den. “Of course, come on in.” He remarked with a warm smile, ushering the other one-eyed tomcat inside where he was sitting. Before Pikestar could think to say anything, however, he’d soon notice another cat behind him. He did not recognize this stranger, whose scent was not of RiverClan, as they said something about being thirsty. “And, um, who might you be?” Pikestar meowed, his partial gaze flickering between his warrior and this outsider. “I do hope you’ve come into my den as a friend, and not as a foe.” He half-chuckled, turning to face them.