Cinderpaw idly sat just inside the medicine den, leaning on the wall of the entrance. The rainfall would no doubt make her severely matted fur worse, so maybe it was better she just keep dry. That was the excuse she had conjured, anyway - she more didn't feel like facing the inevitable jeers from the gathering crowd.
She didn't know why she was bothering to attend - even if it didn't exactly fit the definition of attendance. Exhaustion pulled at her even after a full day and a half of sleep (reanimating takes a lot out of you!), and beckoned her towards a nest in the corner. Yet she sat steadfast, idly scanning the crowd.
The first announcement, the renaming of two abandoned kits found on their territory, didn't shift her tired expression much. Something told her that they might have been safer outside of Thunderclan. Firkit wasn't there to object.
She would rather die again before letting any of them meet her fate, though. In the coming days two nests would find themselves outside of the apprentice's den and the nursery respectively, and the clan would have to deal with her being stationed at one or the other.
She didn't know why she still fought. Even if her battles were to be silent, quiet little acts she refused to listen to complaints about. She wondered if these, too, were going to be futile. That she'd have to see more of the clan's young buried. If she would be the only one who cared enough to bury them. If she was destined to pariahdom for it.
Her own name being mention tore her away from her thoughts, however. She'd gotten pretty used to ignoring "Cinder" and any praise in the same sentence in the last few moons before her death, because it was most definitely referring to a certain former leader rather than her, but her death had pretty much reverted that habit. Lucky for her, there was no other Cinder in the clan anymore.
Something in her chest stung at that thought. She grit her teeth and shied away from the reaction one unfamiliar voice in the crowd gave to her return - an excited whoop. She wished she had the energy to scout out whoever had cheered and sit with them.
And as soon as it started, Sparrowstar shifted into rattling off plenty of mentor reassignments. If Cinderpaw had the courage to scoff, she would - would the clan ever entertain the idea that if they were reassigning so many apprentices every half-moon, there was probably something to be changed about how they did mentoring? Probably not. None of her mentors had stuck around for more than a few weeks, one hadn't even been seen in camp for a moon before he was assigned to her by Dawnstripe, and--
--Oh, joy. Here she was, getting another one. Cinderpaw rattled off a string of profanities in her head. What was Sparrowstar planning to teach her that she didn't already know? Sure, she hadn't had an assessment, but she figured being in multiple major battles and literally dying counted for, like,
something? There was no use in making her objections verbal though - nor did she have the sanity to listen to her words be glossed over.
She realized though, as any anger or exasperation that bubbled up settled, it wouldn't matter what was planned. She would be quiet. She would do her duties. She would do what was wanted from her, that wouldn't sacrifice Thunderclan's future's safety -
- but Cinderpaw would
not be a warrior.
(Not until she could trust again, at least.)
[open! jay i am so sorry about inner whining her dear lord]
Re: ThunderClan Clearing
