(✓) Warriors ▸ Shadows of the Domestic [1]

19 | tears of anger

The soft paws of Firepaw, Ravenpaw, and Graypaw tread silently through the undergrowth, their jaws clenched around the hard-won prey. My tail sweeps the forest floor, a pendulum of mixed emotion. "Are you well? " Graypaw's muffled query, eyes shining with concern. I nod, though the ache in my heart lingers - the rabbit's final gasps still echoing, haunting my steps homeward.

I gazed out into the clearing, my eyes drawn to the approaching figure of Firepaw. As he drew near, a heavy sigh escaped his lips, a solemn expression etched upon his young face. In a gesture of trust, he offered me the shrew he carried in his jaws, a silent plea in his eyes.

"Please, Harepaw, tell us what troubles you," he implored, his voice soft yet filled with urgency. I flinched at the sound of his plea, a rare display of vulnerability from the usually confident apprentice.

I felt a pang of guilt and uncertainty grip my heart, the weight of my secrets pressing down upon me. How could I burden my friends with the truth of my inner turmoil? But as I met Firepaw's gaze, I knew that I could no longer bear the weight of my silence alone.

"Fine," I breathed out, my fur bristling as I shook out the weight of my thoughts. "I just remembered that my mentor is dead. That's why I didn't want to kill that poor rabbit. It felt cruel, the way my mother was killed too," I confessed, my voice filled with a mix of sorrow and anger.

"Oh, StarClan, what am I saying? Just don't bother caring, okay," I snapped, my words laced with bitterness as I hastily grabbed a mouse and hurried back to camp, the weight of my secrets still heavy upon my shoulders.

arepaw, wait!" Firepaw called out, but I already brushed past him and hurried into the camp. As I entered, I saw a lot of cats gathered, some sunning themselves while others shared tongues. My foster mother, Brindleface, looked up when she heard me and smiled. "Harepaw, hey darling," she meowed and beckoned me to sit with her. "Why don't you come and share tongues with me?"

I shook my head. "Sorry, Brindleface, I can't do that," I replied, my mind still weighed down by the burden of my thoughts.

Brindleface's whiskers twitched with annoyance as she demanded, "And why not?" But I was already spinning on my paw, dashing out of the camp with a swift, silent padding. Graypaw and Ravenpaw, fresh from their hunt, called out to me as I flashed past, but I didn't slow. I didn't stop. The trees blurred together as I ran, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. I didn't think about where I was going, or why I was running. I just ran.

The only sound was the soft thud of my paws on the earth, until I tripped over a hidden root and crashed to the ground. A pained grunt escaped my lips as I scraped my cheek against the rough bark. I sprang to my feet, shaking out my fur to rid myself of the dirt and leaves. But as I looked down at my scratched face, my eyes welled up with tears.

It had been a long time since I'd cried. The memory of Lionheart's passing still lingered, a heavy weight in my chest. I felt my jaw twitching, my breath catching in my throat. I lowered my head, my ears folding back against my skull, and let the tears fall. Sobbing into my paws, I felt the weight of my grief wash over me once more.

I sat there, my body still trembling with sobs, as the rustling in the bushes behind me grew louder. I wasn't sure what I would do if it was someone I didn't trust, but as the figure emerged into the clearing, I felt a glimmer of relief. Tiger Claw, one of my own Clanmates, was the last person I'd expected to find here, especially given the scowl on his face.

My ears folded back against my head as I growled softly, warning him to keep his distance. But as our eyes met, I felt a spark of embarrassment flame up in my belly. I'd always been careful to keep my emotions hidden, even from my closest friends. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to see me like this.

"Grunt," I muttered, wiping my face with a paw to clear away the tears. "What are you doing here?" My voice was husky and rough, a far cry from its usual confident tone.

Tiger Claw's tail drooped, and his piercing amber eyes softened slightly as he approached me. "I could ask you the same thing, Harepaw," he said, his voice low and even. "You're supposed to be back in camp by now. What mischief are you up to?"

As he spoke, his gaze flicked to my face, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. I might have been able to hide my tears from everyone else, but it seemed Tiger Claw had caught on. His expression was almost... amused.

I turned my head away, trying to hide the shame that threatened to overtake me, but it was too late. Tiger Claw's snort of disbelief only made me angrier. "Yes, but what's it all to cry isn't it," I mewled, my voice barely above a whisper. My ears folded back at the humiliation of being caught crying again, and for the life of me, I couldn't help it.

Tiger Claw's expression turned from amused to condescending, and he let out a harsh laugh. "Of course, it is. You're an apprentice, and it's just kits who cry," he said, his voice dripping with superiority. His tail swished behind him, and I felt my fur rise in defense at the condescension.

But I wouldn't let him get to me. I stood up, my tail twitching with annoyance, and planted my paws. "No, thank you, I find my way back to camp just fine," I said, my voice firm despite the quiver in my whiskers. The way he looked at me, like I was some sort of pathetic excuse for a warrior, made my blood boil.

I turned my tail back the way he came, my ears folding back in a movement that was almost a snub. "Go on, tell BlueStar I want to be alone," I said, my eyes flashing with defiance.

Tiger Claw hummed a low, derisive tune as he turned to leave, his tail twitching with amusement. "If you get scolded when you get back home, don't blame me," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He seemed to think he'd won some sort of victory, but I just rolled my eyes and watched him go.

As he disappeared into the underbrush, I felt a pang of regret for letting him get under my fur. I should have just ignored him and continued on my way back to camp. But something about his condescending attitude had gotten under my skin.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down and focus on the task at hand. I had to get back to camp, and I couldn't let Tiger Claw's insults get the better of me. I set off in the direction of camp, my ears still folded back in annoyance, but my tail held high in determination.

As I walked, I couldn't help but think about what BlueStar would say when I got back. She would be furious, no doubt about it. But I was tired of hiding my emotions, tired of pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't. I just hoped that she would listen to me, and not just scold me for being weak.

As I pushed away from the thorn tunnel, I expected to see BlueStar waiting for me, her eyes flashing with disapproval. But she was nowhere to be found, and the camp was eerily quiet. I sniffed the air, my tail twitching with anxiety, and padded towards Whitestorm's den. He was the only warrior who seemed to understand me, and to whom I felt I could turn in times of trouble.

I slowed down as I approached, my ears perked up in anticipation. Whitestorm was sitting up, his warm smile lighting up his face. "Ah, young Harepaw, what can I help you with?" he mewed, his voice soothing and gentle.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to begin. But something about Whitestorm's kind eyes and relaxed demeanor put me at ease, and I found myself pouring out my troubles to him. "BlueStar's going to be so angry with me," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I got upset and...and I cried. And now I'm worried she'll think I'm weak."

Whitestorm's expression turned sympathetic, and he nodded his head. "Ah, Harepaw, you're not weak. You're just...honest. You're feeling the emotions that everyone feels, even if we try to bury them deep down. BlueStar will come around, I'm sure of it. She knows how much you're struggling, and she wants what's best for you."

I felt a warmth spread through my chest at his words, and my ears perked up in gratitude. Whitestorm always knew the right thing to say, and in that moment, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay after all.