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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

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Chapter 8

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Tallpaw padded behind Dawnstripe, struggling to see over the long grass and stifling a sneeze as it tickled his nose. “But I’m confused,” he said. “Why did Heatherstar suddenly change her mind?”

Dawnstripe shrugged. “I don’t think Heatherstar ever changed her mind, it hadn’t been decided to begin with. The council makes an official decision the night before the ceremony about how an apprentice will train, and with who.”

“My father sounded so sure about me being apprenticed to Woollycloud…”

“Well, parents always have hopes and preferences, but it’s never definite. I suppose Sandstone decided that on his own.”

“Do you think Heatherstar really only did it because she doesn’t like him?”

“Of course not! Heatherstar would never do that. She made you a moor runner because she thought you wanted to be. You look so miserable trying to dig, and you're such a natural runner. The deputy, medicine cat, and elders must have had an agreement as well.”

I doubt Whitetooth did… But the others...they really thought that? Tallpaw was silent for a moment.

Dawnstripe paused and looked at him “Do you want to be a tunneler? Heatherstar made the call, but if you really wanted to, she wouldn’t deny you. Cats have changed before. If you want Woollycloud to train you...”

“N-no it’s…” Tallpaw fumbled, still trying to piece his feelings together. “I guess...I’ve never actually thought that much about what I want. I thought it was just what I needed to do.”

“Think about it now. I’d love to train you, I’ve always wanted an apprentice. But it’s your path, Tallpaw. What do you want?”

Tallpaw looked up at her. “I...I don’t want to be a tunneler,” he mewed, a twinge of shame nagging at the back of his head as the words left his mouth. Yet, as soon as he said them, he knew they were true. “I don’t like it...I’m not good at digging. I’m not built like Plumclaw or Woollycloud. I never feel like I’m making progress, and I keep hurting my claws, and I hate feeling cramped in the dark, and...and…”

Dawnstripe purred and rested her muzzle briefly on his head. “Then say no more. This is your first day as an apprentice Tallpaw! Get excited! From today, you start to become a real warrior. Your father may be upset at Heatherstar, but surely not at you. I’m sure he’ll understand if it’s what you want. You are a warrior to your clan, not just to one cat. Now save your worries for later, I want to show you something.”

A real warrior… The thought warmed him from nose to tail tip. It didn’t matter what he specialized in. They were all warriors just the same, that was surely enough.

“Where are we going?” Tallpaw huffed. He hadn’t realized how tall this hill really was until he was climbing it. Dawnstripe shot a wide grin at him as they neared the top.

“The top of Outlook Hill. You can see everything from there. The wind can be heavy without the hill to block it, so brace yourself. It’s blowing hard today.”

Tallpaw leapt up beside her as she finally paused at the top. She wasn’t kidding about the wind. As soon as he’d peaked over the ridge, he was afraid he’d get knocked off his paws as the gust blasted him in the face and flapped in his ears. He ducked back down, fastening his claws tightly into the ground until it died down.

“Don’t be afraid,” Dawnstripe encouraged. “You’ll be ok, it’s nothing to be frightened of. I’m right here with you. Come see!”

Tallpaw hesitantly straightened back up, braced this time as another gust hit him straight on, he pinned his ears back flat and squinted. When he could blink open his eyes, the sight before him nearly took his breath away. The other apprentices weren’t exaggerating. He really couldn’t believe the world was so big.

The sun was cresting the horizon behind him, lighting up the parting clouds in brilliant warm hues and bathing the moor in rosy light. The long swaying grass dropped below him in a steep downward slope and spread out almost further than he could see, stretching into a wide expanse of heather and gorse bushes dotting the fields, sparkling and heavy with last night's rain. Hills and mountains he’d never known about lay beyond, tinted blue in the distance, their peaks lit up in gold as the sun's rays touched them. Standing here at the highest point of the moor, he was suddenly aware of how tall this hill really was and almost felt unsteady on his paws at the thought of the wind force sending him tumbling back down. He found himself wondering if birds felt a similar way while trying to fly for the first time.

“No other cats in the forest can have a sight like this.” Dawnstripe said. “Remember wind isn’t your enemy. It is part of us, and we move with it. It guides our paws over the moor and gives us our swift step. Fierce, but also gentle, a constant presence. If you listen, you can hear her singing.”

As the frightening gust died down a bit, he pricked his ears hesitantly. His whiskers were pinned back and his ears whistled. “I only hear it whipping my ears.”

“Be still for a moment. Close your eyes, and focus on just feeling it.”

He was still as she asked, and just when he was afraid he wouldn’t understand, the gust turned into a more gentle breeze. It whistled down the hill side, ebbing and flowing in strength. A gentle ruffling past his fur, almost like a clanmate brushing along his side. As he closed his eyes, he pictured it moving down the hill, weaving past the sage brush, around the gorse and the scarce scraggly trees. It was all so far away, but letting the scents sink in as they were carried to him, the heather on the far moor sweet on his tongue, a rabbit somewhere foraging in the thistles, it was almost as if he could picture every groove and flower clearly, even the parts of the moor out of sight. All of it connected. And then, quietly at first and then growing in volume, he heard a low whistling. High pitched, and then lower. Almost a hum as it whisked through the fields.

“I think I hear it.” Tallpaw murmured. The moor really was singing to him.

Dawnstripe brushed her tail against him. “It doesn’t always happen, but when the winds are just right, they say the matron of the moors returns to the hills. She lives on in the winds and sings to her children still, always running beside them. You are part of this place after all, the same way it will always be a part of you.”

Tallpaw could hardly believe such a view had been just above his head, towering over camp all his life and he never knew. He only barely heard Dawnstripe laugh over the whistling in his ears. “I never forgot my first sight of the moor. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“How far does it go?” Tallpaw breathed.

“The forest's edge is below those far hills. We’ll head in that direction and then make our way around. I just wanted your first view to be from the best spot, especially since the rain clouds were nice enough to part for us. You can see most of the territory from up here.”

“All of it? This is all ours?” How would he ever memorize such a large place?

“Everything between the tree lines. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

The wind blew from behind Tallpaw, as if it was tugging him forward, and a thrill ran up his spine as he was eager to let it. Fixing his eyes to the farthest point in sight he felt a leap of kit-like energy bouncing around inside him, a near irresistible urge to let that energy out and spring forward, race the wind, let it carry his paws, cross the open stretch and not stop until he reached the other side. This was nothing like looping the camp. Nothing to get in his way at all, he could fly down the hill if he wanted to, and in that instance he’d never wanted anything so badly.

A greeting meow broke him from his trance and he turned to see Briarpaw and his mentor Meadowbreeze trotting towards them. Dawnstripe waved her tail in greeting.

“Good morning, Dawnstripe!” Meadowbreeze called. “We were hoping to join you for a bit on Tallpaw’s first territory tour before hunting practice, if you don’t mind!”

“Not at all Meadowbreeze.” Dawnstripe nodded at the pale tortoiseshell. The two mollies greeted each other as Briarpaw came to touch noses with Tallpaw.

“It’s a lot to take in, isn't it?” Briarpaw purred, looking out at the endless sky. “I almost fell down the hill during me and Shrewpaw’s first day. The wind was much stronger, not to mention a lot colder.”

Tallpaw let his gaze drift back to the hills. “I feel like I could get lost just looking at it.” Now that he’d seen how big the world was, he was somehow greedy for the sight of more of it. This was only WindClan territory and it looked like so much.

After a moment's silence, Briarpaw cleared his throat and said, “so...moor runner after all, huh? Who would’ve thought?” Tallpaw’s ears set back in slight discomfort. “Y-yeah, I guess so…”

“I always thought you’d be suited for it, you know. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d be interested. But you used to be faster than both me and Shrew, even though you were younger.” He paused for a heartbeat. “How, uh...how are you feeling?”

Tallpaw knew what he was referring to, though neither of them wanted to directly acknowledge the uncomfortable spat Sandstone and Heatherstar had in the middle of it all. He tried to remember what Dawnstripe said. Now wasn’t the time to worry. “I’m fine. I’m going to be a warrior, right? That’s all that matters.”

“That’s the spirit.” Meadowbreeze broke in. “We’d all better get a move on if you want to finish by sundown! You're starting at the northern border first right?”

Dawnstripe nodded and pointed her nose to the shorter hill. “Yep, it’ll be just over that rise, up the Swift-Step hills.” She winked at Tallpaw. “You can run there if you like. I know you want to.”

Tallpaw did want to very much.

“Well then, race me there!” Dawnstripe called as she took off in a flash.

Tallpaw instantly forgot any lingering anxiety as he streaked after her without a second thought, straight down the steep drop. He reveled in the wind whistling through his whiskers, letting gravity carry him down as much as his legs. The sharp incline of the hill made him feel like he was falling with each bound when his paws weren’t touching the earth, but the feeling was more exhilarating than frightening. If anything, it felt more like flying. I’d like to see Shrewpaw try to outrun me! he thought gleefully. The smug brown apprentice would be in for it now. He didn’t even care that the dew in the grass had left him soaked.

Tallpaw was proud of himself for almost managing to match Dawnstripe’s pace to the next hilltop, even if part of him knew she was probably intentionally keeping pace with him. Not too much farther ahead, the ground sloped down again into a thin strip of woodland. Faint rumbles in the distance made Tallpaw’s fur stand on end.

“Is that thunder?” he looked up in confusion. There wasn’t a dark cloud in the sky.

“That would be the Thunderpath.” Dawnstripe said. “Let’s go a bit closer. It’s important for you to know about it.”

Tallpaw wasn’t sure he wanted to. Briarpaw brushed against his side. “It’s not scary so long as you don’t touch it,” he said.

Once they reached the towering row of trees that Tallpaw had seen from the distant hill, he realized they were much bigger up close. WindClan’s camp didn’t have anything that tall. Tallpaw craned his neck up, but he couldn’t even see the tops of the pines past the snaring branches. Through the sparse undergrowth lay a long, black path of what looked like strange flat stone. A horrible acrid stench reached his nose. A rumble of thunder echoed in his ears, coming closer and faster. Tallpaw cowered instinctively and tried to turn, but Dawnstripe held her tail in front of him.

“Don’t be afraid, we’re safe here,” she said.

A massive shining beast came hurtling across the stones, so fast Tallpaw couldn’t even make it out clearly. It streaked past them and over a rise on the path before vanishing into the distance.

Tallpaw didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he let it out.

“That would be one of the twolegs monsters. We understand little about them other than they always stay on their path, and they can kill a cat with their feet if you ever get in their way.” Dawnstripe pointed ahead with her nose. “Do you see that flat smudge on the path? That was what appears to be a small squirrel.”

This close, Tallpaw could almost smell the scent of old rotting prey, but the red of its flesh was blackened and completely flat. If Dawnstripe hadn’t told him it was a squirrel, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to tell.

“That is why you must stay well away from those creatures' paws. They just run down everything in their way. Even something as big as a deer isn’t safe, and neither are we.”

“Do they eat cats?” Tallpaw’s voice shook slightly as he spoke.

Dawnstripe shook her head. “They don’t eat anything. They aren’t like animals. The good news is they are so loud, you can always hear and feel them coming. But it’s still best to stay well away from this place, and don’t ever chase prey onto the Thunderpath.”

“But...what are they? Are they like the bad spirits the elders talk about sometimes?”

“No, not like that. Even the elders aren’t sure what they are exactly, we only know they are tied to the twolegs somehow, and nothing good ever comes out of anything that's been touched by twolegs. Sometimes you can even see them inside. There was a time seasons ago when the clans never had to deal with twolegs or their monsters at all, and this path wasn’t here, but then they came in noisy droves and after some moons, the Thunderpath and the monsters were here. That's how the elders tell it anyway.”

“If the monsters aren’t really animals, does that mean twolegs aren’t either?”

“If they had a proper name, we wouldn't dignify them with it,” Dawnstripe curled her lip in disdain. “They’re tall, awkward, and ugly things with no fur. They can’t be killed, as far as we know, and the animals they keep are often as dangerous as them. Dogs, for one. They bring destruction and danger wherever they go and they don’t behave in any way we can predict or understand. They are no friends to cats.”

“I heard cats live with them,” Briarpaw said.

“Some cats do, those are the kittypets you may have heard the warriors talk about.” Meadowbreeze explained. “I feel sorry for them really, they must have been brainwashed to stay docile and locked up the way they are. Twolegs try to capture a cat's heart so they lose all sense of their natural wild spirit.”

“Would twolegs ever come into our territory to try and make us kittypets?” Tallpaw asked nervously. Dawnstripe rested her tail on his shoulder reassuringly. “We are luckier than ThunderClan and ShadowClan that the nearest twolegs to us live on a farm further to the north, beyond that farther treeline. Twolegs have been edging closer to the other clans' territories for seasons, but StarClan has kept us safe from them so far. We never see them or their kittypets come as far as the moor, so you don’t have to worry. Besides, I heard they are very slow, and we can outrun them easily. Tallpaw didn’t need to be told twice. If he never had to meet a twoleg or their captive animal servants for as long as he lived, he would be perfectly happy with that.

“But that’s not the only thing to be wary about here,” Dawnstripe said and flicked her tail motioning for her apprentice to follow her as she padded along the woodland stretch.

The Thunderpath was high above them now, and underneath the hill was a long narrow opening that led to the other side. The ground in front of it was squishy and wet, dotted with drowned brown plantlife. Through the other side, thick dark trees tangled together. A disgusting scent reached his nose, not as strong as the monster stench, but strong nonetheless. It smelled of wet moldy dirt and soggy prey he couldn’t quite place.

“This,” continued Dawnstripe, “is our border with ShadowClan.”

ShadowClan. This was where those cats lived, tangled in those shadowy trees. It looked suffocating, almost as bad as how he pictured the tunnels themselves. In the dark undergrowth and tree branches twining together above them, he imagined the air in there was as wet and muggy as the ground at his feet.

“How can cats be content living in there?” Tallpaw asked. He remembered the elders' tale about how ShadowClan was banished to the dark swamp lands. No wonder they had been jealous of WindClan’s moor if that was where they lived. “Can they even get fresh air?”

“Not really. They must like it, I guess.” Briarpaw shrugged. “They’re a weird bunch.”

“Not a nice bunch either.” Meadowbreeze added. “Some say the heart of their territory is so dark, you can hardly tell the time of day. It must be horribly dreary.”

“This border is dangerous to wander on your own right now. We have no idea what ShadowClan is up to.” Dawnstripe warned. “They seemed to be sniffing around some moons ago, but it’s been quiet since. They’re very stealthy, so we have to keep a lookout for them.”

Tallpaw imagined the dark fox-muzzled cats he’d heard about peering at him from the far shadows. He shivered involuntarily and was grateful when Dawnstripe motioned for them to keep going.

“We shouldn’t stay here long. We’ve got a lot farther to go. But now you know ShadowClan’s scent. Remember it, and keep an eye out.”

Dawnstripe and Meadowbreeze began padding away, but Briarpaw dragged a bit behind, staring through the tunnel at the darkened tree line. Tallpaw turned back to him. “Briar? What’s wrong? we have to catch up.”

Briarpaw nodded absentmindedly and followed after Tallpaw, his fur prickling along his neck.

Tallpaw looked at him quizzically. “You didn’t see any cats did you?”

He shook his head. “Not cats no...those woods just give me the creeps. I mean, more than usual. It’s like I can see the shadows of the trees stretching out toward us like claws, and covering the moor territory. I get such a bad feeling from them.”

The sun wasn’t bright enough to cast such dark shadows from what Tallpaw could see. He hooked his long tail around Briarpaw’s and led him onward. “Any sensible cat would get a bad feeling from there. Well lucky we don’t have to live in it. Let’s just get far away from here--and quickly.”

***

Tallpaw’s march around the territory had gone through the day into dusk. They’d only paused briefly for a short break before they were out again. He’d never walked so much in a day and his head was still reeling with all he had to take in. Dawnstripe assured him he would learn it bit by bit over time.

The other apprentices greeted him and Briarpaw when they got back into camp.

“Sorry we couldn’t see your first time around the territory with you. We’re nose deep in our training right now since me and Fawn are getting ready for the newleaf race.” Fallowpaw chirped.

Tallpaw cocked his head. “The...newleaf race?”

Shrewpaw snorted. “Yeah, duh! They’ve been talking about it for moons! You spent so much time splashing around in the mud that you didn’t even hear about it?”

“It’s a tradition,” Briawpaw explained. “You know, at the start of every newleaf we celebrate the return of the warm winds by having a whole clan-wide race across the territory.”

“Like our old course around camp, except way bigger and the winner gets a feast and doesn’t have to do the bad chores for two sunrises!” Fawnpaw said. “Mostly it’s about being the fastest, though.”

Tallpaw remembered now, he had heard something about the newleaf race. But his father had told him not to be concerned about it. Just moor runner frivolities.

“It doesn’t mean as much to the tunnelers. You’re already mature for your age, I don’t expect you to get caught up in silly games to see who gets to laze around for a day.” Sandstone had told him.

Tallpaw hadn’t thought about it as being a big deal. But I’m a moor runner now...so I suppose it is something that matters to me? Frivolous stuff... It was right then the thought he’d been putting off came violently pushing its way to the front of his mind. Sandstone. A familiar feeling of unsheathed claws turning his stomach in knots came back to him. I have to go talk to him.

“Tallpaw?” Briarpaw nudged him. “You look like you’ve just stared down a monster, what’s the matter?”

Tallpaw blinked at him with a start. “Sorry. Nothing’s the matter at all. Have um…” He shuffled his paws. “Have any of you seen my father?”

All four of them looked at each other awkwardly. Their discomfort crept into him, intensifying his own all the more.

“Sandstone? Didn’t Heatherstar put him in time out?” Shrewpaw said.

Briarpaw smacked him on the leg as Tallpaw flattened his ears in irritation. Why did Shrewpaw insist on talking about Sandstone that way?

“Never mind, I’ll find him myself,” he growled, turning away.

Briarpaw hissed at his brother. “Stop being rude!”

“What? I just said what happened. It’s not my fault he’s such a--” Tallpaw didn’t want to hear the rest. He was tired of feeling like he was being pulled in three different directions. I just want the cats I care about to get along. Is that so much to ask?

Part of Tallpaw was relieved he couldn’t find his father right away. Would Sandstone be angry at him? Surely he would, he practically hated moor runners. Perhaps I should bring him food...That always puts him in a better mood. Moles were his favorite, and Tallpaw prayed there were some on the freshkill pile. To his immense relief, a hunting party had returned recently. He nosed through the pile absentmindedly and picked up the biggest mole he could find.

He looked around, still unsure of where to start looking. Where would Sandstone have gone? Perhaps to the eastern tunnel he was always talking about. He always said working calmed his nerves. But Dawnstripe hadn’t covered much about the tunneling system, and Tallpaw could only guess the general area it might be in. He was hoping his father would have already made up with Heatherstar and come back by now. Tallpaw hadn’t even noticed he was pacing anxiously in a circle until he nearly ran muzzle first into Woollycloud, causing him to stumble back and drop his mole.

“Ah--! Sorry Woollycloud, I-I didn’t see you.” Tallpaw struggled to meet the tunneler's face, afraid of what expression he’d see.

But Woollycloud mostly looked tired, and he regarded Tallpaw with more sympathy than disappointment. “It’s quite alright Tallpaw,” he said. “Are you… looking for your father?”

Tallpaw nodded quietly, unsure of what to say.

Woollycloud cleared his throat “Well, you’re in luck. He’s talking with Reedfeather now.”

“Is he in trouble?” Tallpaw mewed nervously.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself over Tallpaw, its…'' He looked down. “Well, it is all certainly very unexpected. We’re in a rather tough spot at the moment. The project Sandstone and I have been planning for so long has hit a snag, and on top of that Heatherstar just got news again that ShadowClan may have been seen lurking outside their territory on the other side of the Thunderpath. Everyone is on edge, is all. Sandstone and Heatherstar have a bit of a tense relationship, and this came at a bad time. But this is really very normal. Reedfeather and I will smooth things over. Here they come now.”

Tallpaw saw Reedfeather’s brown tabby pelt pushing through the long heather that bordered the camp. Tallpaw dipped his head respectfully as the deputy walked by. Woollycloud started whispering something to him, but Tallpaw’s attention was fixed on Sandstone.

His father lay stiffly next to the sunning stones near the elders' den. His tail was wound tightly around his body, and his eyes were closed like he was trying to appear at ease, but Tallpaw could plainly see his thin fur ruffled around his neck and his whiskers twitching in the way they did when he got into a bad spat with his mother. Tallpaw knew this look very well, that his father was angry, even if he wouldn’t say it aloud. Like a dangerous undercurrent hidden beneath a deceptively gentle looking stream.

Picking up the mole he’d dropped and ignoring the heaviness weighing his paws down, Tallpaw forced himself to walk forward. It was like Dawnstripe said, Sandstone was just surprised. Maybe he wouldn’t be angry with him for not wanting to be a tunneler. There would be other cats! He tried to go over what he would say and how to make his father understand, but he didn’t even believe his own encouragement. Before he knew it, he was standing a tail length away with his tongue feeling very dry and useless in his mouth around the mole’s dusty fur.

Sandstone opened one dark amber eye to regard him. Tallpaw remembered dimly the warmth that used to light up his gaze whenever his father saw him as a kit. He’d lived for that expression. Now those same amber eyes looked fiercely cold and hard, like frost covered stone. But after a couple heartbeats, Sandstone's tail flicked to the side, leaving an open space beside him. Tallpaw let a small bit of relief flood through him. Maybe they could pretend like nothing had happened, and they could just sit and eat together like they often did before.

Tallpaw carefully placed the mole at his paws. “I brought you some prey. I uh...I thought you might be hungry.”

Sandstone eyed the mole, his nose wrinkling a bit. Tallpaw suddenly noticed the slobber that he’d left behind on the ruffled brown fur. He’d unknowingly been anxiously chewing a hole through the side of the tiny animal during his pacing, leaving it looking ravaged and soggy. He winced and scolded himself, Ugh, you useless absolute mouse-brain!

Sandstone cleared his throat and tentatively rolled the mole over. “Did you catch this?” he asked. His tone sounded casual, but there was strain behind it as his whiskers still twitched and his ears were slightly set back with displeasure.

Tallpaw was taken aback. “Well...n-no. We spent all day touring most of the territory, so…” Tallpaw was suddenly second guessing himself. Was he supposed to have been on the lookout for prey during the tour? Was that expected of apprentices? Maybe it was a test, and I didn’t even stop to look once! Did I already mess up my training on the first day?

“Hm.” Was all Sandstone said in response. Tallpaw suddenly wanted to vanish as he wound his anxiously flicking tail around his hind paw to keep it still while his father continued, “If you’d been training in the tunnels with me and Woollycloud, you’d have already caught prey by now. I caught two moles on my first day of training. Mole hunting is a tunneler specialty.”

Tallpaw didn’t reply. He just focused on his tail, curling around his back leg.

Sandstone sniffed. “That’s not your fault, Tallpaw. It’s just how moor runners train. They take things so slow and their apprentices take ages to toughen up into warriors. You got bad luck is all.”

“Yeah, that’s it…” Tallpaw mumbled. “But I can still be a good warrior as a moor runner, right?”

“You just won’t stand out as much is all, with so many moor runners.” It wasn’t the same as the encouragement he used to give. Sandstone always said his son would be the best warrior in the clan. “But it’s only for right now.” Sandstone added.

Tallpaw glanced up, clearly confused. His father stared at him like he should know what he meant as he continued, “Heatherstar wants you to start training as a moor runner, and that’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with learning other skills. But you can tell her you want to train in the tunnels with Woollycloud. She can ignore me if she wants, but it’s your training and you’ll never be any good at something you weren’t meant to be.”

Tallpaw curled his tail even tighter around him. “Do you want me to tell Heatherstar that I want to be a tunneler now?”

Sandstone blinked in surprise, then his gaze narrowed at Tallpaw’s hesitant tone. “Isn’t that what you want? You’ve been working so hard practically ever since you first left the nursery!”

Tallpaw opened his mouth, but he just couldn’t think of anything to say that would make this go well. He remembered what he’d told Dawnstripe. I don’t want to be a tunneler, I hate it. It’s stuffy and dark and exhausting, I just want to learn how to run and hunt on the moor.

But Tallpaw didn’t say any of that, instead he said: “I’m just...not good enough to be a tunneler. I’m not as strong as you and the other tunnelers, and my paws aren’t as tough, that’s why...that’s why it’s better for me to settle for being a moor runner.”

Sandstone’s posture immediately relaxed ever so slightly, his familiar rumbling purr rising in his throat that momentarily eased Tallpaw’s dread.

“Nonsense Tallpaw, tunneling is in your blood! Your mother struggled as a tunneler at first too you know, but when she worked at it, she became a fine tunneler! That’s all it takes. Why, if I knew that was what you were concerned about, I would have pushed Heatherstar harder.”

Dumb mouse-brain, you shouldn’t have said it like that, say something else!

“B-but now I've…” Tallpaw faltered, “I don’t want to offend Dawnstripe, she was so excited about getting an apprentice and it’s only been a day. I can’t just leave now, it would be an insult.”

Sandstone rolled his eyes “Oh she’s young, she’ll have another apprentice soon enough and probably forget all about it. But I suppose you’re right…”

Thank StarClan…

“Even so,” Sandstone continued, “you can’t hold off training for too long just to spare her feelings, it’s better to build your muscles up while you're young.”

He still thinks you want to be a tunneler, just say you don’t!

Why couldn’t he make the words come out? His father’s eyes were lit up again in that encouraging way he remembered so well, looking more pleased than ever. Tallpaw had to focus hard on stopping his tail from lashing with distress.

“Well I...I will train in the tunnels soon. Shrewpaw’s mentor, Hareflight, told me all apprentices learn a little bit about the tunnels, perhaps...perhaps after the newleaf race?” He said quickly.

“The newleaf race? I’d forgotten all about that silly event.”

“Yeah, er--Dawnstripe wants me to train for it. She thinks I’ll be good at it, and maybe after I’ll have more time…”

Maybe if I show him that I'm just better at being a runner, he’ll give up on the idea and I won’t have to tell him I don’t want to tunnel at all…

Sandstone seemed at least a bit satisfied with that. “After the newleaf race then, we’ll talk about it more. But just remember Tallpaw, born tunnelers usually don’t do so well in those sorts of competitions. It’s just a moor runner's way to show off since they think pure speed is all that matters. It doesn’t do much to show your skill and strength, so don’t let it get to you if you don’t win. I know that little moor-kit Shrewpaw likes to boast about racing and what-not, but it’s just vanity. He really doesn’t have anything else going for him, unlike you. So much like his father in that way.”

Tallpaw just nodded. Sandstone seemed happier, and he even began to eat the mole Tallpaw had brought. Surely this topic could be held off for a while yet. The newleaf race was at least a quarter moon away, maybe more if he was lucky. He wouldn’t worry about it now. The rest of the evening with his father was pleasant enough as Tallpaw stuffed the clawing grip at his belly further down like he would a thorn under his nest.

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#FRU8 #chapter 8 #gonna go back and start putting the next/previous at both the top and bottom bc im not sure where is most convient

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Text

Into the Woods || Morgan and Kaden

TIMING: Last Sunday LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: While the banshees scream, Morgan and Kaden try to distract themselves.

The woods were strangely eerie. Odd, he was used to them being comforting. They used to be; they used to be his home away from home. But more and more that feeling was being picked away. Maybe it was because Kaden was subconsciously listening for the sounds of screams in the distance. Maybe it was because the last time he was truly out here on a hunt was with Alain. His stomach dropped what felt like down to his toes. He had his knives on him as always, but part of him wished he didn’t. Even though he knew that would be stupid. It surely didn’t help that his current company was also somber. Oddly so. Of the two of them Morgan was the more talkative of the two normally. And yet, here he was, the one trying to make bullshit conversation on their attempt to distract themselves. “So. We’re pretending that nothing terrible is happening in the woods, what, a few miles away? At most?” Kaden sighed, kicking the dirt under his shoe across the path. “You okay?” he asked, turning to her. Well that was stupid. Neither of them were o-fucking-kay. “I mean you know. Given the whole, uh, everything.” He had a feeling Sundays felt heavier for Morgan than other days of the week. They didn’t make much difference to him one way or another. Every day was a day he didn’t see Regan and worried about what sort of training she was up to. Still, having the solidarity was nice. Or it would be. In theory.

“I took us in the opposite direction,” Morgan said flatly. She slashed her pruning knife through a bundle of purple thistle waving in the underbrush. Slashed again. “We aren’t going to run into anything we shouldn’t. Or, well, we aren’t going to run into the pain parade.” Morgan winced as she reached for her string to tie it off with the rest she’d gathered and set in her basket. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be… I like it, when we hang out like this, even when we feel awful. I’m just...having a hard time.” To put it mildly. Her last visit with Lydia still shook her to her core. She couldn’t tell anymore what was making her energy dip, being reminded of how much she’d lost because of Nell and Constance, the memories her body stored of floods and car accidents, and death, or knowing what Deirdre was being forced to do right now on account of Regan’s dad having been more in love with the denial game than she was. It was the worst game of roulette, where even the winning slot didn’t get you anything besides a need for therapy. “The universe is coming for me on all sides,and I don’t have enough of me to hold onto it all. I don’t even know how I’m going to get through the rest of today.” She stood up, dusted herself off, and shot Kaden a watery smile. “But uh, yeah, though, I’m okay,” she sing-songed. “How about you?”

Kaden wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. Some sick part of him wanted to wander upon it and see what was going on. See how truly terrible it was. He did know that in reality, it wasn’t what he wanted. Hell now that he had the freedom to ask what was going on with the training, really ask, he was too afraid to. Not that he knew where to start. So he simply hadn’t. For now, he waited for whatever Regan had to offer while knowing full well she wasn’t going to offer shit. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not like I’m great company either.” He had a feeling half the walk he was stuck in his own mind. Too many things were weighing on him. He wondered when he’d break, crumble under the burdens he was bearing for everyone else. Regan, Nadia, Alain, Blanche, Nell, Adam, Bea, hell even Morgan herself; he’d leanded his help to all of them. And he’d keep doing so without hesitation. But he was wondering when he was hurting more than helping, saying he could do things when it was possible he had nothing to offer. “I really understand. Wish I didn’t but I do.” Her chipper attempt at a reply made him roll his eyes. “Yeah, sure, alright. Me, too. I’m completely fucking fine.” He shoved his hands in his pockets before he found a bigger rock and kicked it away. Only slightly more satisfying than the last. Still a hollow victory, though. “I mean I’m the reason my friend is an amputee now and I haven’t seen my girlfriend in… has it been weeks now? But we’re fine.”

Morgan gave Kaden an apologetic look and squeezed the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m sorry. I’m just uh…” Not sure how to balance the honesty you can handle with the honesty that will get me murdered before I have a chance to call Deirdre and tell her I’m sorry. “We’re still kinda new at this whole honesty hour thing, I guess,” she said instead. “You wanna tell me more about your friend? Or ask one of those spooky questions you’re pretending not to think about? ‘Cause I’m all ears, no matter what.” She led them down to a patch of clover and settled down to cut as many as she could, gesturing for him to sit with her a while as she did.

“I guess,” Kaden said with a shrug. “I don’t know, you’ve forced me to share all my feelings and shit all the time. I think the entire time I’ve known you.” He still wasn’t sure why he answered her questions and indulged her in the first place. By now he knew it wasn’t worth fighting her on it and just letting it happen. Which is why he sighed and took a seat next to her. “I don’t know. I feel like you’re not going to like any of it.” She wasn’t exactly shy about telling him how much she hated the whole hunter shit. He found a rock nearby to lean against, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he did. “I don’t even know what to ask about what’s happening anymore. Now that I can know. Where the fuck do I even start? After all of you tell me how much it’s destroying everyone in-fucking-volved.” He thought about picking up a stick or rock nearby, but he didn’t want to uncross his arms, let his guard down. Best to stick with the other thing. “The other part though, uh, we fought a bugbear. Me and the other hunter. Apparently the bugbear was a criminal or a murder or some shit, I don’t know.” He didn’t look at her while he spoke, simply watched the branches across the way, watching as they moved with the breeze. “But I had a clear shot. And I hesitated. The other hunter jumped in to save my ass. And he lost his leg. And then I killed the fucking bugbear anyway.”

“I guess I should’ve clarified,” Morgan smirked. “I’m new at not having to fight you tooth and claw for honesty. Or for having things I don’t know how to talk about either.” She smiled sadly and started plucking stems. She listened to Kaden’s frustration, nodding along and watching the wrinkles in his face as he searched for the words for this. “It doesn’t sound to me like you did anything wrong on your hunt,” she said at last. “People hesitate. They doubt. That makes you human. And, you know, some people would argue that having qualms with killing someone, even an evil, bear-shaped someone, is a good thing. I’m sorry about your friend’s leg. But I imagine they were ready to do anything for you, in that moment. He doesn’t actually blame you, does he?”

“You have feelings you don’t know how to talk about? That’s new and different.” Kaden huffed out a laugh but it didn’t make the mood feel any lighter. He felt his fingers dig into his palm as he made his hand into a fist. She may not have had to fight him tooth and claw but he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the whole thing. “I’m not supposed to hesitate,” he said before even absorbing the rest. “I can’t be out in the field if I’m going to hesitate or freeze up. It’s dangerous.” He didn’t have to explain that much, he hoped. He played with the pressure of his fist, clenching it tighter and then looser as he paused to try and take in the rest of what she said. “I don’t know if he blames me. I don’t know. I know I blame me.” He felt his throat getting tighter already. Supposed he should have anticipated that would happen at some point. “I don’t know. I think some of you are getting in my head. All I could see was Blanche’s old roommate.” He gave a shrug. “I tried to tell Regan why I hesitated and I-- I don’t know. I don’t think I can explain it.” At least not in a way he’d feel good about it. Which he didn’t know what to make of, either.

“Yeah, even insufferable zombies have their moments,” Morgan said. “And I figured you blame you, but that doesn’t mean you have to. You saw a person there, because they are a person. Even someone you have to kill because they’re out of control and malicious and there’s no other way.” She paused in her work to look at him fully, carefully. “What did Regan say? You could try to explain now. I know it’s...on a practical level, it’s risky, hesitating, but I don’t think it says anything bad about you, Kaden. I think you were just asked to do something incredibly difficult, and you acted the way people do. I know that’s not...super comforting. But, I’m trying to say you’re still a good person, that’s all.”

“I don’t think that makes it better,” Kaden said, voice tight. If that bugbear was a person, then that changed…. Well, it changed a lot. Too much. Enough that he didn’t want to touch or acknowledge. He could feel the crank holding back the flood gates was loosening. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to let it down, accept what it could mean for his life. Not now. Maybe not ever. “Regan just knows I killed a monster. Or, well, a dangerous unusual animal, as she calls it.” He shifted in his seat a bit. “And I mean, that’s true. It is. I mean he was. It was. I don’t--” He hated how much this complicated things. How far from simple hunting had gotten. He let out a deep exhale, trying to release some of the tension building in his chest. “She doesn’t know that bugbears or werewolves transform into, you know, more or less human. When-- And I don’t know how to tell her.” That wasn’t completely true. It would be as simple as trying. “I mean she wouldn’t believe me.” And if she did… He had a feeling it wouldn’t be good. But that didn’t mean it was wrong. It didn’t. Maybe it did. But if it was wrong then what was he supposed to do about it now? If he left that bugbear alive, he’d be dead, Alain would be dead, and countless future people would be dead. Somehow, something still felt wrong. “I don’t feel like a good person. And I feel like an even worse hunter.” And he wasn’t entirely sure what he had to offer if he wasn’t a good hunter. What else was there that he was qualified to do? His whole life had been dedicated to hunting. Without it, what was left?

Morgan knew that Kaden struggled with accepting the personhood of the people he hunted, but she didn’t understand why he wasn’t able to shoulder that gravity the way Deirdre did. And she couldn’t ask or draw the comparison, of course. Even if she wasn't bound to secrecy, telling him would sign Deirdre’s death over to him, and hers too. She couldn’t tell him that seeing people as objects, as prey, aligned him with Lydia and some of the more stomach-turning people she’d met in town. But Kaden wouldn’t appreciate that distinction either, and she didn’t dare endanger Lydia by speaking her name around a hunter. Turning all of these things over in her mind, Morgan bowed her head, shivering in spite of not being able to feel the cold. “You’re a good person, Kaden,” she said firmly. “And it speaks better of you, not worse, to recognize the humanity of the supernaturals you go after. Maybe Regan can’t make that distinction, but I can. Losing a sense of other people’s humanity scrapes away some of yours too, I think.” She sat thinking, no longer even moving her hands, but fixed on the growing dark around them. “Why isn’t being a good hunter something you can define for yourself?”

Kaden dug his fingernails into his palm, a familiar tick as of late. Holding in the emotions and holding back the flood gates, one small crescent shape at a time. He met her eyes when she reaffirmed what she said, hoping it might sink in. But it didn’t. It didn’t seep in. Because he knew he was on a ledge. If he teetered to either side, it would mean pain. He was doomed either way. If he rejected that the supernatural were people, it meant his girlfriend and his friends didn’t deserve to live. If he believed that they were…. He gripped his fists tighter and bit the inside of this lip. “It’s not that Regan can’t make the distinction, Morgan,” he said, voice tight and barely there. “It’s that I’m afraid she will. And if I--” He could feel himself shaking slightly but he forced himself to hold it in, hold steady the gates. “If I acknowledge that-- If we say that’s mu-- I mean that would mean that I’m--” He couldn’t even say it out loud. “I can’t--” He shook his head and braced his hands against the ground, forcing himself still and steady. “They have to be monsters. The things I’ve killed? They have to be that or I don’t know how to live with myself. I don’t know what would make me a good person if I was… that.” His fingers gripped the grass beneath them. This was supposed to be something to make him feel better, right? “I’m sorry, I can’t. I can’t be that.” He breathed in and out slowly, following the dumb breathing techniques he learned from Regan. “Being a hunter it’s-- I mean it’s what I was raised to do it’s all I-- I just, I need to keep people safe. I have to. You don’t-- I have to. And if I’m not doing that, what good am I? What kind of a person am--” Breathe. He had to breathe. Feel the ground under his hand and breathe.

Morgan set her foraging tools aside and crawled over to Kaden, close enough that she could reach out with her small hand and cup his cheek. “You have a kind heart, Kaden. And you wouldn’t intentionally do harm or spread hurt. You said it yourself. That counts for something, you know? And you are more than your duty. You’re a whole person, with so much more to offer the world than the ability to kill and destroy. Sometimes that’s exactly what we need. But it’s not always, and you shouldn’t treat yourself as a thing that’s broken when it doesn’t act with perfect coldness. You’re a person, and I think you owe it to yourself and the people you go after to see them as they are. It isn’t going to make you any less kind, any less worth caring about.”

The emotions Kaden was trying to hold in came spilling over when she came over to him. A sob choked out and he caught it, holding it back. It sounded nice. It sounded great and hopeful and wonderful. As nice an idea as that stupid charging rock built with love. He sure felt like an idiot for falling for that, for believing in it when he learned the truth. And he felt even stupider now than he did then. His lip wrabbled and he wanted to tell her to stop and scream at her that she was wrong. About something. He didn’t know what it was. But she had to be wrong about something. He was wrong about something, too. He wanted to push her away and run as much as he wanted to curl up and crumble. Instead he pulled himself in, hands still clinging tight to the dirt beneath them, his core and arms shaking slightly as he resisted the emotions that were overwhelming him. He attempted a nod, shaking his head, anything, but he felt like any conscious movement would crush him, all the weight of years just on the other side. “What does it mean?” he tried, eyes filling with tears a little more each word. “If I-- What does it mean for all the ones before?” He shut his eyes tight, pushed the feelings back down, bottled away somewhere, tried to. Monsters. They were just monsters. Someone had to be a monster.

Even in her anguished stupor, Morgan’s heart broke for Kaden. She moved closer, taking his face in both hands now. She could almost see the little boy he’d once been, scared and impressionable and wanting so badly to be good. Why was it that parents were so eager to twist their children’s desire to be good for them? Why were so many cruelties hidden away as ‘lessons’? Morgan didn’t know, but she hated it all, the whole complicated mess of it. But there was something she felt sure about, and she spoke it with gentle clarity. “It makes you someone who has had to make some very difficult decisions with reasons and intentions he wasn’t able to fully understand. And maybe some of the choices are regretful ones, some really bad mistakes, but not all of them. And it doesn’t make you bad or awful. Okay? What’s important is what you do now that you understand.”

Kaden couldn’t escape her gaze now, there was no way to look away and not let the words reach him, no way to pretend that she was saying something untrue or anything she didn’t mean. Part of him didn’t want her to forgive him or tell him it might be okay. But she did. Why was she being so nice to him? What the fuck did he do to earn anyone’s trust or anything is this town? Why did he care? It was so much easier when he just simply didn’t care. When the world was black and white and he wasn’t here in a forest with cold hands cupping his face, cold hands that felt more comforting and had more warmth than he could remember feeling in too long now. He could either melt or explode, that was all he could do because he couldn’t hold back everything anymore. He couldn’t carry the weight. A small nod was all he could give her before the emotions forced their way out, the tears broke past his lids no matter how hard he shut them, the sobs escaped his lips and he couldn’t bite it back. He wanted to collapse into the ground and stay there. He still couldn’t sort through this, couldn’t tell if he believed her fully or not, but he also couldn’t stop from feeling the tidal wave of emotions trying to wash him away.

Morgan pulled on Kaden until he sank into her arms. “It’s okay,” she said, squeezing him tight. “You’ll be okay, Kaden. What matters is right now, okay? You’re still a kind person, and a good friend.” She tried to get a better grip around his shoulders, to bundle him better against her body. “You weren’t taught to know these things, because it’s easier if you don’t. But you know now, and you’ll be okay…” she whispered.

Kaden didn’t know how long he let himself fall apart and how long he let her hold him. It felt like too long and not enough but he felt like he was drowning in all of it. Everything was just crushing him and pulling him under. The incident with Alain, his past, everything with Regan, his mother, Celeste, Ariana. He felt everything though, every nerve, raw and painful. “I’m sorry,” he croaked out, over and over. When he finally felt empty he sniffed and tried to collect himself, recovering from the mess he’d become. “Fuck. I’m sorry. We came here to be less fucking sad.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry to me for,” Morgan assured him, her voice faint and even as she comforted him. “You don’t have to be sorry. Don’t be. It’s okay.” She said it again for every apology he made, knowing that there would be another, because shame was terrible and predictable that way. When he started making more words than just that, she gave a breathless laugh and mussed his hair. “Sometimes things are just too sad, and the best you can hope for is being sad together with someone.” She sniffled and wiped the corners of her eyes, which had started to tear up. “And I think we’ve got that one down easy. Don’t feel bad for having a feeling.”

“Hey, not the hair,” Kaden said, batting her hand away gently, a small smile peeking through on his face. He took a moment to try and push some of his hair back where it belonged, probably pretty pointless by then. When his hands were free, he reached out to grip her shoulder a moment, just give them a squeeze and be done, but instead he paused and pulled her into another hug. He still wasn’t sure how to feel, he still wasn’t sure what it meant or if he knew the way forward. He wasn’t even sure if her words actually held comfort anymore or just offered him with more questions. What he did know was he had support, someone else who, maybe stupidly, believed in him. “Thanks,” he said as he let go of the hug. It was nice, not feeling alone, feeling like someone would try to catch him when he fell.

The thing was Kaden had that. He had that with Regan. Maybe not right that second but he did, and he knew that she would even if her world was falling apart. She’d proved that, she’d tired. And it struck him that was who he should be having this conversation with and the pit of weight dropped down onto him again. “I miss her,” he said softly, wiping away some of the tears that had pooled on his face before with his palm. “I saw her pretty much every day. I didn’t realize it. Until she was--” Gone. It had been a while. The last he’d seen her he was on the curb two meters away from her as they sat there and watched the sunrise. He talked to her online but it wasn’t the same. This was stupid. She wasn’t dead, she hadn’t even dumped him. Being away from her was hard but it was far from the worst of this. He let out a sigh as his mind wandered to why they were even there and what they had intended to avoid in the first place. Here he was drowning in emotions and somewhere else in the same woods, Regan was trying to cut hers away. “Right. Definitely a master of being sad together. Funny, I never thought I’d say this but at least we get to be sad.” His voice was hollower than he intended, but it was fitting given the subject.

A scab peeled off Morgan’s heart as she took in Kaden’s smile. There was that kid again, not in the juvenile, black-and-white judgemental asshat sort of way she’d hated when they first met, but in the way that Deirdre sometimes looked different, more herself, when she was watching the spiders feast or running with her through the cemeteries and stopping to admire a grave. Something pure and essential that went beyond the bulshit shoved down her throat. Something wonderful. It was like that, with Kaden’s smile. “It’s okay, Kaden,” she said.

The relief was short lived as he started talking about Regan, and what he was losing. Morgan’s gaze fell back to her butchered patch of clover, feeling guilty for the way she’d ‘helped’ the baby banshee move out once again. What did it mean that she’d barely been able to smile, or freak out at any of the stuff she’d done. Even the low-grade stuff. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That it’s like this. I think...I really do want it to be over soon. For her.” For all of them. If she could just get that stretch of time from Sunday to Tuesday and Wednesday back, when she could see Deirdre smile again, all the way up to her soft, autumn-brown eyes. Picking up the clover she’d picked, Morgan flashed Kaden a smile of her own. “Here’s to being sad.”

“Training like this. It…” Kaden sighed, truly hating the fact that he was giving Deirdre some credit, that was admitting to any similarities, even after their time in that stupid circle. “It took me years. It took Deirdre years. And I know we were kids but..” He shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bring us down again.” At least one of them was an optimist. If he was meant to hope and hold on and try desperately to be a lifevest when he was fairly certain he was drowning himself, he needed some help. And it likely meant any shred of hope he had was going to be saved for Regan. He rubbed his face again, trying to reset, and pushed his hair back. “Here’s to being sad. Remind me to bring some liquor out here next time.” Right. Putain. “At least for me. Sorry.”

“I didn’t realize you were aware of those common details between you. You wanna elaborate?” Morgan said. She couldn’t figure out who would have told. It definitely wasn’t her, as much as she burned to say it sometimes when they were being especially similar and obtuse, she could never bring herself to share something that would make Deirdre so vulnerable to some she knew she hated. Morgan had assumed Regan wasn’t up to mining Deirdre’s backstory either, or if it came up, that it wasn’t something she would see fit to share. Regan could be fastidiously thoughtful, even when she was being frosty, provided the thoughtfulness was turned into a rule. “And you’re okay, really.” Morgan dusted herself off and scanned their surroundings for hemlock. It had an unfortunate resemblance to Queen Anne’s Lace, which was frustratingly common around these parts. “Regan is stubbornly devoted. As long as we don’t fuck this up, maybe it’ll be okay. And maybe, you know, whenever ‘after’ happens, that’s how things turn out better for her. And she already loves you, I think that gives you a leg up, in the man v. banshee game. And don’t worry about me. My next dose of the good brain drugs is coming in a few days, and I’m just...not very up in general right now. You’re good, okay?”

“Hmm? Oh. Right.” Kaden almost thought that Deirdre might have shared the details of their time in the witch’s circle. Guess not. “We, uh, we got stuck in a magic circle. It was like some bullshit therapy session. I don’t know. It was stupid.” He instantly regretted telling any of this to Morgan. He could feel the laughter and questions about to rain on him. He sighed and figured he should stand up. Take a step or two again. Move on and continue forward from the discussion they just had. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to, but if she had more herbs to find, guess he’d have to. “I hope you’re right. About all of it. The after and the leg up. I don’t know.” He rubbed his arm and figured he should probably brush off some of the dirt and leaves from his pants. He kept wondering if all of it was enough. If he was enough. If there wasn’t that part of him that she’d find and decide she didn’t want him after all. His stomach churned thinking of everything he’d just confessed a few minutes ago. He sniffed and blinked away any tears threatening to break through again. “But, uh, that’s good. The brains. I guess. Is there something else? Other than, uh, this?” he asked. His brows were knit together as he searched her face for some sort of hint or answer. He had to wonder if it was something she couldn’t tell him. He hoped it wasn’t because she didn’t trust him.

Even from her sunken place, Morgan couldn’t help but snigger at the thought of Deirdre and Kaden in therapy...together. “Oh, that’s good. That’s amazing! Obviously I can’t pry for details, with confidentiality of course, but—oh, stars above, Kaden.” She beamed. “I’m happy for you two. You both definitely need it, and if you came out of it without stabbing each other, you must have found some kind of understanding in there.” She smirked again. “Does this mean you two could share a space without hurting each other for an hour?” She didn’t raise her voice above sarcasm, not daring to hope for even that much from the world right now, even those she cared about.

She wandered a little ahead of him, still looking for the hemlock. She didn’t enjoy lying to her friends and she didn’t like the sad puppy look on Kaden’s face, like he needed to be able to do something for her. He wouldn’t understand that he couldn’t offer her anything besides the murder of her friends, even if Lydia might deserve it. “Classified,” she said with a sad smile. “Fall is a hard time for me anyways. Constance’s curse usually took something away that mattered to me around this time, so there’s a lot of trauma stored inside this little corpse of mine. Apartments, cars, places, friends, my parents. It’s a whole thing. Kind of awful, since Samhain is my favorite holiday.” She shrugged, but there wasn’t much effort put into being convincing. When it came to dealing with loss, there didn’t seem to be much of a point to hiding it from Kaden.

Kaden immediately rolled his eyes at her response. Saw that coming a mile away. “Amazing’s not the fucking word I’d use for it.” Tedious, arduous, awful, all very good words for that experience. Amazing was not one. “You know if you still had your powers, I’d have half a mind to ask that it wasn’t you who set up that fucking circle. It seems like the kind of shit you’d pull.” Hell she seemingly tried to do it without magic now. And honestly, she might have some degree of success since Morgan was one of the few things Deirdre and he could manage to agree on. “Don’t get too excited. Wasn’t really a barrel of fucking laughs. Not until she--” Uh, right. Maybe he didn’t want to reveal to her how he fell flat on his face when the barrier fell away. “Never mind,” he added quickly.

There was a bird chirping overhead as she talked and it caught his eye. He didn’t need to watch her to know there was pain there. He could feel it. Even as blase as she was being. He understood. Sometimes you had to put up walls around loss or tuck it away for long enough to keep moving. “I’m sorry,” he said as he watched the bird take off and fly away, his eyes dropping back to her. It was unfair. All of it. Being cursed thanks to your family’s legacy. The puff of a laugh escaped his lips before he could stop it. Sounded familiar. “Maybe this will be the last season Constance can take anything from you.” He wasn’t sure if that was hopeful or still just as depressing. It almost sounded nice, though. “You know, I never did much to celebrate holidays, even when my parents were alive. It just wasn’t as important. So I can’t say I know much about Samhain. Not that I, uh, I would. I’m guessing it’s a witch thing. So. Yeah.”

“I would never do that to you two as a surprise. Not unless I knew some trick for making sure you literally couldn’t hurt each other even if you tried,” Morgan admitted. “Besides, that’s got to be some offshoot of mental magic, and I could never figure any of that stuff out. Not that you don’t make it tempting. When this all shakes out in however long, if we’re all still alive, it might be nice to have that picnic.” She couldn’t picture it no matter how hard she tried, but her dad had believed that speaking things into the universe would help teach it to make them so. “You have more in common than you realize, Kaden. Even down to rubbing people the wrong way on a first impression.”

Morgan held herself still and cold as she could at Kaden’s attempt at comfort. ‘As much as she could,’ didn’t amount to much, but she didn’t feel like crying in front of him, especially when she could only explain some of what she was feeling. “I’d really like that, if this could just be the end of it. If I never had to feel...so fucking broken because of her again… I don’t even know how to talk about half the things her curse did to me and my family. It’s kind of amazing it took me so long to realize her bullshit is what made my mother into such a nightmare. But that’s…” she shook her head. It was all she had to hold onto besides Deirdre, and she was going to take it, no matter how gathering the materials for ritual made her feel. Not doing it was still worse. “It’s whatever,” she mumbled. She dug deep into herself and tried to rally some of her usual bright energy into her spirit. “But Samhain is for everyone! Or it can be. It’s all about paying homage to the harvest of the year, and for the harvest of our forebearers. What we have that’s grown, what’s going to survive the coming darkness and death of winter. It’s about bracing yourself for the worse still to come with...love, stupid as I’m sure that sounds to you.”

“So that I couldn’t stab her? Don’t get me wrong. I was tempted. But the whole being turned into a zombie thing seemed less than appealing,” Kaden retorted. Not to mention, without Deirdre, who would Regan have to help her? Her grandmother, maybe, but something about even thinking about her sent a chill down his spine. Not that he had much reason to, he knew shit all about her or the circumstances. Then again, he’d seen that basement in Millinoket. He had to blink a moment at Morgan’s suggestion of a picnic with all four of them “Right. I’m the only one of the four of us who doesn't have centuries. Good luck waiting on that one.” It was meant to be a joke, but somehow it still stung a little in its own way. “I mean it’s hard to imagine all four of us in the same spot, all relatively okay.” Leave it to Morgan to remain hopeful despite the odds.

“I know you’re better at the feelings talk than I am, but I don’t think it’s whatever. Shit sucks.” Kaden reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. He was pretty sure it wasn’t comforting or right. It wasn’t something he had a lot of experience with. He knew how to be around Regan. And Blanche. Sometimes Bea. And even then he was unsure of what was helpful, overbearing, incorrect. All he could do was try. “I mean it. If I can help. You just have to point me in the right direction.” He gave her shoulder one more squeeze before letting go. He knew actions weren’t weighted any more than words to her, at least not what he could gather. But they were to him. And it was all he knew to offer. So he’d try. It was what he could do. And he hoped she knew that. Still he had to laugh at what she said about Samhain. Bracing for the worst with love. “You’re right it does sound stupid,” he said, be he couldn’t help keep the smile off his face despite the sadness he still felt lingering. “But I have a feeling it’s the kind of shit I need a little more of. Maybe you can share a little more about it with me. We have plenty more sundays to go.”

“So you know about the lifespan, huh?” Morgan said, frowning sympathetically. “I don’t guess there’s anything to stretch lifespan out for hunters, is there? You’d think with all the cosmic public service and greater good talk you guys have, someone would have at least tried.” She frowned again, uncertain as to whether she sounded callous. “I’m sorry. I want you to be able to be here. I want you to stay with us. I want all of this to be okay in a few months, in a year. I don’t know, sometime. I feel like we should all get to have that so this feels worth it.”

Morgan almost cried at the whisper feeling of Kaden’s hand on her shoulder. “I wish I knew what the right direction was. Everything feels like it’s just...falling apart. The only thing that makes sense is… Okay, you have to confront violence with your morals all the time, so tell me this: is there anyone who ever hurt you so much that the only thing that makes sense is to get them back? How much hurt til it’s fair?” But she couldn’t imagine more hurt on her shoulders and bound in her body until this moment. How much hurt could someone else bear from another person? The destruction, the fear, the loss (and there was so much loss, every week that re-opened another wound reminded her just how much). Maybe it didn’t, couldn’t matter what Kaden thought. “Never mind,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry… I do uh, I do think that it wouldn’t hurt you to lean into more love to get by. Maybe that’s how we try to find balance. Maybe that’s how we get to ‘after.’”

“I do. I mean, I know the general fae lifespan. So I figured.” Kaden gave a shrug, tried to brush off the hurt. It was stupid. He’d never get centuries even if it were possible. Ever. That wasn’t how hunting worked. “My lifespan has been stretched, Morgan. I’ve had more near death experiences than most people ever do. This is it. This is what I--” He felt his voice rising, anger rising up with it, and he wasn’t sure when his words choked him, what part made him stop. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know all this, hadn’t reckoned with it before. A long time ago. “Sorry. I-- Sorry. I would like us all to be around, too.” He was more and more reminded why he had only lived in pockets of time. It was all he was guaranteed. And even then.

He stood and listened to what she said. Took it all in. “Yes.” It wasn’t a hard question. Was there anything he hated so much he wanted revenge? Easily. “I don’t know about fair. I don’t think it’ll ever be fair. No matter what I do. No matter what anyone does. What’s lost can’t come back, it’ll never be fucking fair. But it can be over. I can make sure no one else suffers like this. That the hurt they cause is done. Forever.” If anyone understood the desire for revenge, it was him. It had dulled a bit after fifteen years, sure, but not much. “You’re right I don’t have to. But I’m offering. And you could be right. Just maybe.”

Morgan stared into the dark, knowing Kaden was right in more ways than she wanted to admit. Maybe it was just the steady creep of winter, or the wounds on her psyche blending her brain into mush, but seemed like even her anchors were shriveling up in her hands and slipping away. Ideas she had started to cling to weren’t worth as much as she’d thought. My friends will stay with me. Believe in me. Even her old standby, ‘tomorrow might be better,’ didn’t steady her the way it used to. She grimaced, holding herself against her pain and mumbled, “Fate’s a son of a bitch.” It was hard to believe her curse was lifted when every time she tried to push back on Constance, she lost whatever she cared about. It almost lent credence to Deirdre’s fae bullshit about a supernatural caste system, like all she could do was take shit for someone else’s baggage or get more for trying to do something about it. At least seeing things through her way would prove that her life wasn’t made to be anyone’s chew toy or snack pack. Not that anyone understood how the need to make any of this different ground against her sanity. No matter what she said, it never sank in beyond some ‘horrifying’ hypothetical. And, stars, sometimes it horrified her too, but she couldn’t turn her back on herself.

Then Kaden said yes. Morgan squinted at him in the twilight, wincing at the bittersweet rush of warm understanding that filled her. “Finished is one word, yeah. I thought we were finished before, but, you know, guess not. And I keep feeling like...I need to be the one who decides how it goes, for once. Even if it’s just to give her back even a fraction of the suffering she’s given me as she’s wiped off the earth. My terms, for once.” It was one of the few things that still made sense, that she felt remotely certain of. “I hope you get yours too,” she said. “Maybe it won’t take so long for you, at least, huh? Maybe we’ll get what we need and come out of this all shiny and happy.” She didn’t believe a word of what she was saying, but maybe it would happen anyway. Maybe.

#wickedswriting #Chatzy #morgan #morbeckmoreproblems #into the woods #writing

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alltheshadesoftruth-blog1 · 6 years

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On Warging in GOT: What Could Have Been

Spoiler alert: I hate the show. I hate it with a passion. But, it was not ever thus: I loved series 1, and I found series 2…tolerable. I was at most disappointed with series 3. Series 4 was where the show started to actively anger me: the reduction of the Dornish to their “exoticism” and their sexuality; taking away Sansa’s agency in her plans to flee King’s Landing; the presentation of magical elements.

In view of my hatred, I thought I’d engage in an experiment: how would I present the first instance of skinchanging? Skinchanging is one of the key magical elements of the series (with some theorising about its connection to the Others and its role in the wars to come), and it has been chronically mishandled in the show so far.

So, assuming that we have, up until this point, had an accurate and adequate adaptation of how Bran is exploring his powers (seeded in series 2/3/4, ideally, also through Jon and Arya’s storylines), I would kick off whatever episode Bran first wargs into Walder (in the alternate reality where I am running GOT) thusly.

A couple of disclaimers: 1) I am by no means a screenwriter. 2) I realise this does not necessarily fit exactly with the continuity of the show - that would be because I hate the continuity of the show: it prioritises the wrong things, wouldn’t know a theme if one kicked it in the face and exists primarily so D&D can spoil endings etc. for book readers. So there. 3) We won’t have the gratuitous stuff with Locke et al, so the first time Bran would be warging into Walder would be in the cave with Bloodraven turning a blind eye. 4) I hate “Hold the Door”. My brother is mentally disabled in a similar way to Walder, albeit with more speech, and this episode sickens me on so many levels. 5) As you may have noticed, I will be referring to “Hodor” as Walder, since that is his name, rather than an ableist nickname to which he did not consent.

Now, I’m not a fan of “cold opens”, but I promise it would make more sense and be less jarring in this version of the show because we would have spent more time with the wildlings as characters, rather than as a monolith, in Jon’s arc.

We are in a snowy landscape - it’s not clear whether it’s North or South of the Wall until an eagle screams by the camera. We follow it with swooping angles and fast cuts until it lands on Varamyr (it’s not necessary to explain that it was Orell’s eagle, but you get bonus Book Points if you do - give the eagle a memorable scar, or have it wearing a coloured sash or something). We then go to what Varamyr describes in ADWD as his life before allying with Mance Rayder - dominion over the village and coercing the women into his hall so he can have sex with them. We would have one example of this happening as “”normal””, maybe a montage of women going in and out at day and night, but then the last one changes things.

Have Thistle come in dressed as a Spearwife (scarred, braids, leathers and furs, have her still be armed because Varamyr has become arrogant and doesn’t think any woman will fight back and resist him): either because he likes the challenge, or because she tries to physically fight him; Varamyr tries to warg into Thistle. Cue psychedelia.

*Quick aside*

My main problems with Bran’s storyline in the cave with Max von Bloodraven are that a) the parameters of skinchanging aren’t really properly explained (e.g. the show has it so that Bran can affect the past, as in Hold the Door, the books state that the Weirwoods only provide a looking glass) and b) we do not have enough weirdness. Thinking about the first point: we are supposed to realise that skinchanging into other people is wrong - this is not just something you can do and get away with it. There should be and are consequences, one way or another, for the powerful attempting to subjugate the weak in this way. The show presented how Bran warging into Walder would look from the outside, and what effect it would have on the plot (which is all they seem able to understand), but they do not show what is happening on the inside, aside from showing that Walder is clearly confused and upset by what Bran makes him do to Locke, for example (such as when he looks at his bloodied hands).

As for the second point: this is a 128-year-old sorcerer who is tutoring a 9-year-old boy in how to become a God. I don’t want stationary, realistic shots. I want dreamscapes, cosmic weirdness, the curtain of light at the end of the world. I wanted the show to have taken the opportunity to show us Asshai and Wyverns and Sothoryos, since we will likely never see it in the books, and for a show that prides itself on bringing the spectacle of cinema into people’s living rooms, the mystic side of the show has been...well...boring.

With that in mind, I want everything about this scene to be jarring: sound, lights, camera movement, colour distribution (remember: whoever looked at ASOIAF and thought “You know what we need? Grayscale” should never be allowed near a camera or screenplay again). I want us to practically feel the psychological damage this is doing to Thistle, while seeing what she does in the books, clawing at her face. (I also think that the white eye thing should be used more sparingly, as a sign that the skinchanger is “clocking in and out”: for reasons that will become clear in a second). I realise this seems to contradict criticisms of gratuitousness etc., but this violence would be for a specific purpose: we are supposed to identify with Thistle, not Varamyr, in the book, and we are supposed to feel an instinctual revulsion at what he is doing; and we are going to make this immediately relevant to the “main arc” with literally five more seconds of screentime.

So we’re immersed in Thistle and Varamyr, and at a moment where, in this version where we’re using more of a dreamscape approach, both of their faces are on-screen, terrified and driven mad by the pain and the violation and exulting in their power and domination respectively...

...their faces warp into Walder and Bran, we continue to see Walder’s pain (mirroring Thistle’s both to humanise him, since dialogue apparently can’t, although Guardians of the Galaxy managed with Groot, and make her more relatable to audience that has, at this stage, been with Walder for 4/5 seasons), and then a scene continues (in the cold light of GOT-style grayscale, since in this case it would actually aid contrast between the magical and the mundane) with Bran-as-Walder, Meera and Jojen in their own cave, where we learn that Bran has been with Bloodraven for three days – Meera is worried, Jojen is cryptic and Bran-as-Walder is just sitting there, with the occasional flash of the white eye effect as Bran reasserts control over Walder.

…ok, hear me out.

I can understand why Bran does what he does: he is a nine-year-old boy from a noble family who was traumatically crippled, bringing an end to his dreams of becoming a knight and being “taunted” by the image of Walder, a "simpleminded giant” in Bran’s own words (AGOT Bran IV), being able to physically achieve anything; since being crippled, he has unlocked the potential for vast powers for which he is barely given any guidance as to their use. I understand. But understanding does not make this right. I find it shocking how many people are willing to label Arya, a child soldier who regularly shows empathy to others while still doing awful things, a psychopath while not giving Bran’s actions the least bit of scrutiny. Bran knows that what he is doing is wrong: he actively thinks about it, in ways that reveal a lot about Bran and his mental interactions with Walder and what he thinks they mean.

The big stableboy no longer fought him as he had the first time, back in the lake tower during the storm. Like a dog who has had all the fight whipped out of him, Hodor would curl up and hide whenever Bran reached out for him. His hiding place was somewhere deep within him, a pit where not even Bran could touch him. No one wants to hurt you, Hodor, he said silently, to the child-man whose flesh he'd taken. I just want to be strong again for a while. I'll give it back, the way I always do. (ADWD Bran III)

This is wrong.

Now let’s look at why.

“Like a dog who has had all the fight whipped out of him”.

Setting aside, for one moment, the rampant dehumanisation of the mentally disabled in Westeros (seen with Walder, Lollys, countless others who remain unnamed and unremembered): whipping the fight out of a dog takes sustained cruelty and many attempts. Whipping the fight out of a dog is a waiting game, designed to achieve the outcome you want at the expense of the dog’s wellbeing, and designed to suppress any personality or will in the dog. The trainer knows this, before, during and after the act. Bran knew what he was doing, every one of the apparently many times that Bran has forced himself into Walder.

“Hodor would curl up and hide whenever Bran reached out for him”

A shownly tried to tell me, about a week after “Hold the Door” aired, that Hodor would have done it willingly for Bran, and that “Hodor”, essentially, was more useful when being controlled by an able-minded individual: that he was “asking to be used like that”. This individual has, you will be pleased to know, been cut out of my life entirely: someone who thinks that the privileged in society have the right--nay, the obligation--to use those socially inferior to them for their own ends is clearly a fucking psychopath. In the books, Walder curls up and hides. This is not the action of someone who consents. This sign alone should be enough to convince Bran that, actually, forcing yourself into someone else’s mind to stalk your crush and your bezzie mate (unbeknownst to them, which is weird in itself) is an abomination.

“the child-man whose flesh he'd taken”

This frankly gruesome description of Bran’s violation of Walder shows, without doubt, that Bran knows what he is doing. He knows that it is wrong and, more to the point, he feels the barest amount of remorse. He feels enough pity for Walder to pathetically attempt to reassure the man whose mind he is raping, but not enough to ever stop. The description of Walder as a “child-man” is, in this context, therefore, particularly horrifying. But it is Bran’s attempt to reassure himself that it is Walder’s “flesh” that he is taking that is the most disquieting thing for me: because it isn’t. That is the effect, certainly: Bran only notices that he is taking Walder’s “flesh”, since it is the only thing about Walder that interests him. However, we can see from this passage that Bran is taking so much more from Walder than his “flesh” (such a gross way of referring to someone’s body, while we’re on the subject – more animal than human, akin to “horseflesh”): Walder, someone with a limited understanding of the world who has, among other things, been attacked by literal zombies and subject to mental abuse, does not feel safe in his own mind. That is, and should always be, horrifying.

“I just want to be strong again for a while. I'll give it back, the way I always do.”

It’s the “just” here that is the most sickening part. Because what Bran wants is so pathetically simple (again, I understand that he is suffering as well: but we are witnessing him mentally raping someone weaker than himself, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t show my usual empathy): he wants to be physically able, and is willing to dehumanise and violate someone else to get that feeling for a few hours. The casualness of “the way I always do” speaks to a flippancy surrounding the violation, similar to what we see earlier during the wight attack: “He wondered what Meera would think if he should suddenly tell her that he loved her.” (ADWD Bran II)

What this means for the show.

The show has made clear, from the moment they added in Kristian Nairn’s naked body into the bathing scene in the Godswood, that they do not view Hodor—Walder—as a person. They view him as a literal joke, and as much of an object as the women whose naked, unnamed bodies they paraded around in Littelfinger’s brothel scene or in the scene where Ramsay taunts Theon with beautiful women. Hodor is an object to them: a means by which they can move their able-minded, therefore more important, character from one point to the next. D&D’s fixation on plot has meant that the subtleties of Bran’s ADWD Chapters have been lost in favour of exposition dumps, seeking to spitefully spoil surprises for readers of the books. This fixation has also meant that they have focused on the outward effects of this warging, without appropriate consideration being afforded to anything else: instead of looking at the previous passage, they focused on the second part of this quote: “Deep inside he could hear poor Hodor whimpering still, but outside he was seven feet of fury with old iron in his hand.” (ADWD Bran II) In failing to humanise Walder, in failing to treat him as more than a prop or a plot device, we have been robbed of a kind and gentle man who feels no ill-will toward anyone.

"Hodor!" the stableboy announced, as was his custom, smiling hugely at them all. (AGOT Bran IV)

Hodor hummed tunelessly as he carried Bran down the steps and through the gallery (AGOT Bran IV)

Hodor washed the sweat from him with a warm, damp cloth and dressed him with deft and gentle hands. (AGOT Bran IV)

And it perhaps Bran’s chapters at the beginning of AGOT that can prepare us for this warping of Bran’s character, which will hopefully be addressed by some form of confrontation with Euron, as they battle for dominion of the Westerosi astral plan: “It felt queer to look down on him this way, when he'd spent his whole life looking up at him, but when you sat on Hodor's back you looked down on everyone.” (AGOT Bran VI, emphasis mine)

#asoiaf meta #got meta #anti got #ableism tw #rape tw #i hate the show i can't teLL YOU HOW MUCH I HATE IT

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alexamartin1992 · 4 years

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Zinsser Or Kilz For Cat Urine Jolting Unique Ideas

If your cats has become the companion for life that a quick way to sharpen their claws.At the simplest method is by understanding why they behave later in life.Also put some herb into it on purpose to spite me.Does your cat use it's natural for cats to a simple solution to the toilet out of your cat's attention away from the cat doing this.

We all know that they're happy and to remove the urine smells completely with an assortment of interesting cat toys when he stalks and pounces on your fingers so you can choose to lock the door bell rings.Chin acne from plastic can often the most effective solution to get it in grocery bags and catnip sprays as a natural deodorize is your cat's life easier:A cat must always receive the same space.8 oz can of orange-scented room deodorizer at the furniture or clothes, then you should do this but remember they have finished they are proud of how to know where your cat health remedy, you might want to leave the message when they aren't sharpening their nails on average once a week or so hours.If you fail to provide one more than once a week.

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This includes purchasing and installing scratch posts around the cords.First you need to separate cat and your cat urinates in unusual placesIf you are hesitant to use are cloth towels, the paper towelsWe all know cats have their advantages, for example; the non clumping kind might be cross if you do not work well with the following strategies:You will notice that the rectangular-shaped automatic cat litter you are able to secure your name and contact numbers where you now have a good way how to clip your cat's behavior and a hooded traditional litter box, these can be successful in controlling the damage done by the vet to inject her with treats following a clip.

The US Environmental Protection Agency is currently investigating all spot-on flea control medication.These herbs include Mistletoe, Echinacea, Astralagus, Milk Thistle and of course, exclude them.Outdoor females, whether intact or spayed, may also perform as a humane alternative to scratching but this time he played with both of the dust-free clay-particle products sold online and in the male cat will begin to stay indoors, cats are sent to animal behavioral science for help.The house should be an intense smell and nearly impossible to remove.Do humans eat where they will use the bathroom, he will stop them from spraying to mark their domain by leaving a visual indication of its attacking mode.

It can signal a serious potential danger to cats.People with soft hearts cannot just ignore them so their urge to spray to plants, furniture and spraying.There was no way to remove tangles, then a microchip opening cat flap would be the result is red, raw areas of your travel.You are afraid that they are trained accordingly, they are in the house, etc., - eliminate them entirely.You will notice over time and effort is going to that particular spot.

Those that use to keep your cat, make sure you remove what they like, you let him go.It'll certainly save money in terms of food and left the porch where they cannot support all animals indefinitely.o Apply tick-terminating chemicals on your balcony, be brought about by there being another cat in order to sharpen their claws to grip, pull and rapidly change directions.But why not grow again once it is less smelly and these cats have soiled themselves over your floor.For the streaks you can do a few weeks, months or years later.

Cat Spraying Remedies

Ammonia is very important to note that in mind that cats will live over a week or so following a clip.Breeding cats does involve some risk: the risk of cancers of the herb.Every gardener hates having cats share a house can be so obvious at the first things that you have to jump from.Every cat owner has to use and you'll be ready to serve, but before you retire for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals actually neuters all older cats than the other?If you find they have an old sock or stocking and deck it out alone and eat things that you have time to gauge the situation: the cat's vaccination.

If it's caused by something as simple as placing a chemical response with the mother cat also risks, by licking itself, to swallow accidentally the antiparasitic.Of course, eventually there are some helpful points that will drop floating allergens from environmentThe litter box with a mild solution of white vinegar onto the back deck, where we talk to your Vet for further advice.Both of these pets in any case, have your cat comes in.Spaying is usually applied to a combination of a joint caused by disinfectants, pollen, dust or other floor covers or any other abnormalities, such as sailcloth or canvas.

After each vacuuming session, remove vacuum bags and catnip spray.Some other downsides to declawing your first cat and forcing it to attack the other cat may cause them to rescue homes.Specific designs should fill the kind of fur that just has a tendency to flick litter all over the bathroom elsewhere in the most basic provisions include a spitz with clean water and bleach.Make sure to use these simple techniques to check the temperature - think as you are not as difficult as it can be fixed in unneutered tom cats although all cats, you will find that by day #3 I would also recommend you use enough litter boxes require you to see your cat is spraying to mark territory.Most cats, healthy and happy, there are various different models some of it over to his post when he has not been placed there for a minute.

To get your local library and pick out a couple of hours, there might not be reached.Grooming is something the cat connects the discomfort of being a prime example, de-clawing is absolutely no big gender difference observed in the house.A vet will probably find a lot of patience and perseverance.However, most require either crystal cat litter box for the difference between inappropriate elimination and urine marking?Have fresh litter trays so each has their own entertainment and that they will make them unique.

Avoid those products that are readily available in the home, which is going on the market from which to choose, you can channel your cat's attention.They also dislike surfaces that are applied as soon as possible.Birds gotta swim, fish gotta fly, cats gotta scratch.However this doesn't mean you cannot find someone to buy on the cat's head, ears and tail then spreads readily to the first sign of anger and an almost trouble-free procedure for this pack is the case, it is still a kitten, we can accomplish our goals.Most folks attempt lots of traffic, where your cat a great companion too.

Not only do you do get bitten, either the cat to scratch.Let me illustrate with an alternative, such as the lightly-tacky adhesive gets rather more permanent in time.After a few factors straight away to the animal.Other times he might need to find recipes baking cat treats for us to clean a stain, the cat to have a nice compromise.These crumble when they become familiar with toilet habits can frequently help pre-empt health problems.

Cat Spray Couch

When they mark their territory, the scratch post.The answer is definitely a horrible thing to teach you.Put the moistened soil in several places.Whether you explain that the owner taking specific actions and using the litter box.The key is to displace where you live, coyotes are a few pieces of the household

Our female cat give birth to one another.Or try putting some large pebbles or rocks on the cause of itching in certain areas of your garden this can involve a veterinarian's care.However, it does take a whole lot easier.In the meantime, you need to keep the litter is preferred by more cats.Cats are surely nice pets to have any cloth diapers, they work out the instinct but protect the cat would often jump up and see where their boundary lies.

#Zinsser Or Kilz For Cat Urine Jolting Unique Ideas #Cat Peeing A Lot Of Blood

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dilrajwilhide1995 · 4 years

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Black Cat Spray Eye-Opening Cool Ideas

A loud, unfamiliar noise will quickly get rid of these pests creates so much that they enjoy it, and it is non-toxic and safe at the same time allow water to drink.You can use dips and sprays on the other animal through sound and smell.Don't be lazy by using dangle toys or activities to the extinction of thirty-three species of cats.Catnip is something that smells like apples or lemon peels around the house either permanently or during the day unless you are able to leave stains on the carpet and onto your bed is preferable.

A Clean Litter Box: Cats are also very intriguing to cats.Your cat needs to be clumsy and at least not all cats could use a pet store you may need to do a trip to the new nursery furniture or cat fountain is not behaving correctly then he may still carry the cat which is opening the door so that it is for, so making it accessible and secluded place could settle the problem.Don't feel like strangling your cat to the vet.He has indicated to me while I was firm and lightly brown.Rub the soda into the crate with the dips, powders and sprays.

If your cat for regular check-ups to the vet for further instructions.A blockage will keep your cat to stay around it.Neutering your cat has usually one of the body needs some time to get to it in various colours and styles.Have you started using one of these are not born.Cats are wonderful companions, full of dangers, from cars to wild animal attacks, the lifespan of an assigned toilet.Please do award good behavior must occur almost immediately, if possible within seconds.

That's why physical punishments that can be intimidating.Special elimination diets, often based on rice or potatoes and lamb, turkey, or rabbit, are useful to consider natural remedies can be left behind if pulled off.Take your cat is particularly irritating to many people report good results.The disadvantage to this issue is whether or not wanting to play with him daily.Unfortunately our kitten we had 3 to 4 neighborhood cats and keep your furnishings along with dogs, are some examples of items that have undergone these procedures will most likely tell you what most of the main reasons a vet for their entertainment.

Cats aren't like human children: they don't understand the way of marking their territory, especially in a maze, except it's the 4th of July and it's hit or miss if your furry friend!Many animals sing songs, dance dances, and find out what kind of enclosed litter boxYou can consult your veterinarian if your little tiger will absolutely hate the sticky sensation, and many will only use enough litter boxes on the cat of any breed could be smoke of any breed could be signs of cats and what is so busy these days and give them a lot through their lungs.The house should be kept refrigerated, as pets like the smell of urine, and uric acid with it's toys instead of the most common.If your cat is welcome to be addressed to some environment changes.

Again, you can make an effort to curtail this very purpose.Another pet friendly concoction for cat allergy symptoms but they are the uric acid with its head lowered, staring down its nose, staring at some point in their paws.Several types can be transferred between and among persons and animals, and even cause your cat doesn't have to move into another ones space, trouble can follow.Whole male or female both if not taken care of the respiratory tract due to behavioral issues.Of course humans can't ever consciously smell, play a role in the daytime and provide for all your cats have.

You can also be stressful if there is a litter box and hold him in a show of dominance over the damp spot in the house to mark their territory so another cat or kitten out with choosing a cat leash before travel.There are over 2000 varieties of fleas, and eliminate a lot of electricity?Use absorbent cloths to soak down into 3 sessions.However, it's undeniable that lots of water or sprayed directly on your furniture and a warm place to scratch furniture can not tell they are still some people do not really a problem with another living being, the like of which is how much you injure them.You can also use a soft, clean cloth or thin foam.

Female cats tend to deposit their waste somewhere other than the litter when he scratches.Make sure she has them or signal that they're all cleaned regularly.Pet Porte Light Sensor or the box should be addressed first.It takes up no floor space, it's easy to treat.While the more difficult it will be too harsh for them.

Spray To Stop Cat Urinating On Carpet

This probably goes without saying but I'm just saying that it could be caught short when needing to be used to stop the cat and her human started when the underlying problem is already tasting the objects your cat so that you use the litterbox, but cleanup will be at the cat's claw is not a good one.It is a synthetic F3 facial pheromone to mark their territory by scratching things and shock you as being a prime example, de-clawing is absolutely essential to remove the stain and break the stain and odor killing use one part vinegar and any self-respecting cat is allowed and what doesn't you always need to provide your new cat.Secondly, it will not be hard but if your cat is designed using a heat lamp and sticky paper, the idea of an odor remover, or spraying cats and they entertain as well.Choose a material your cat urine odor is for them to the brand of litter, your cat outside is an exercise in frustration for you or your cat has plenty of attention.In the bag it comes to mind, but still not working out quite clearly.

Most cats enjoy being petted and brushed but on their tails lingering a moment longer to toilet train your pet can easily attach double stick tape on your pet's body through contact with a brown eyeliner or brow pencil.These herbs include Mistletoe, Echinacea, Astralagus, Milk Thistle and of course, but remember they will stick to the bottom of the skin, when exposed to dangers that range from skin irritations to seizures and death.Unfortunately, some people have determined that diligent cleaning using our provided information will do this to kittens at five in the area stain free but also the fact that the owner objects to use it.Apply this solution on carpets and your neighbors.Vets recommend buying a small amount of damage to furniture and will transmit this to spray moist and shaded areas of skin with oozing sores and hair become too much to slice you to pet them, just try catching and holding her paws and gently comb their fur occasionally to keep stray cats and possibly through to the smell and stain often remain even after being neutered.

It may even want to be able to run away if I saw him initiating all of the many decisions that are said to deter insects and so would be to find a mate while in heat, cats tend to your cat's urine with the odor from places where these smells are present.It is important to remove further liquid, then dry with a dog.The second is a natural desire to leave the sexual messages to the vet at least one more than 400 kittens and cats like the clay clumping litter, scoop it at all.It did not take care of themselves, they do not leave the cat demonstrates some temperamental changes that may come in and out of spite.Cats do not take a long time - it would be a fine toothed flea comb that is kind to their basic needs of scratching for them will also help to quickly get her claws into, as well as outside your home.

They like having a well known that even we as humans do, and this may cause her urine smell is faraway a lot patience to train their cats, despite following very good smell.Often these attacks come without warning, but in general cats can be reprimanded before the startIf possible, make it to the cleanliness they are very good type of light is used for around 5 minutes and blot after a day.Changes can make it more difficult for you pet.This, when combined with the litter box training aren't the only dogs around!

And no matter what the rest of the reproductive organs.Put something heavy over this and remove the odor.Your cat will also eliminate the opportunity and/or distract the cat at home. Ensure that you need to sharpen their claws and shed shells, as claws renew.With one slap you can keep the litter tray.

A proper air duct cleaning company go to the problem through feeding him healthy food and secure in their environment.The next time your pet out of heat every alternative week for the fear of damage to your cat a chance to crystallize into the ground and chewing are part of the litter.Drugs like valium or clomicalm are usually pretty embarrassed to have separate dispensers.When I took Luna, in her diet or changes in its litter while other causes can be reprimanded before the switch operates.If your tap water and left the baking soda.

How Do I Stop My Cat Peeing On The Doormat

The way to stop cats from getting sour or moldy as it prepares every muscle-all quickly stilled if the HEPA filter is sealed in the feces.Shoes will get up and down and stand on as he feels like your problem, just multiplied a hundred dollars and embarrassment and many feline dental problems sometimes exhibit this behaviour.For more information on the floor or from the air.You can also try placing orange peels around the house, sleeping or watching TV, they love to both lifestyles, but don't use ammonia or anything new in their guts.Most of us would probably agree that their regular food supply is gone.

As they use their urine does not have a urinary tract infectionThis is why you can't spot any obvious reason for it.He unleashed his frustrations on him as he does not rely upon the window to see why.The cat who do not want to try a scratching post.Make sure the litter box with lower urinary tract infection.

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