Two small kits nestled into the warmth of their tightly wound mother, long limbs tucked neatly under plump bellies. She wanted to feel pride-- wanted to feel anything she was supposed to while she gazed at the children she had made; anything that wasn't that deep hollow hole gnawing at her insides, spitting the bones of her failure in place of everything else she ought to feel. The journey to motherhood had been such a tumultuous battlefield, ripe with doubt and uncertainty until, eventually, she felt excitement replace dread and she felt at peace with her decision. She had always felt as if her life wasn't unfolding as it should have, but for once, for just a glimmer of a second, she had finally felt like it had got back on track. She was going to have kids, and it'd start a new type of journey that she had worked herself up to find thrill in. It'd be good, and they'd be happy.
And then SunClan reminded her that it had never favored her or her people.
SunClan; the ancestors with powers to lead those they left behind, or so the stories claimed. The same ancestors who couldn't save their people from starvation and disease, nor provide answers until it had been too late. Her mother had joined the clans in hope of a better life for her and the litter she bore, but the only good that came from it was the introduction of Little Mother. Zoey had done her best, and her litter had survived, but in seeking the aide of MountainClan she had risked their lives and placed them under false prophets. SunClan was no more than ghosts to Lynxstrike, resulting in her abandoning the clan way instead of following after their "prophecies". What good could come from chasing after the dead when all the consequences landed on the living?
But, even then, even as she roamed the lands outside the clan, Lynxstrike had hidden away a small and nibbling faith in SunClan. She couldn't help it-- she was born and raised under their beliefs and, even as SunClan proved itself useless in her eyes, Lynxstrike had to wonder how she avoided disease and famine. Had they protected her? She wouldn't ever admit it, but she had considered the thought, until now.
Until they had failed her again.
She had been so ready for her happy family, and then one came out sun born (as Littleflower had once put it). She had seen a blind hot fury at the first realization that would simmer into crushing despair. Yes, she had two perfectly healthy kittens, but the third-- the lost child --smarted in a way her previous trauma had yet to understand. More death, more loss, more dreams shattered, and this time directly related to her and perhaps because of her. She needed something to blame, and while at first, it had been herself, she had begun to mix SunClan into that hatred. It was easier that way.
In the midst of it all, she had barely registered that Flamestripe was lingering more and more. At some point, between the haze of anger and emptiness, she had wondered how he found the time to stay by her side so often when he was now part of a clan. The curiosity died there, replaced by the grief that refused to relent and clutched her in a chokehold and marred the view of her two sleeping kittens against her stomach, leaving a hole where the third should have been. It was hard to care these days, and harder to notice the world around her.
It was just too much.
"Lynx?"
One ear swiveled towards the sound and she shifted her head on her paws to cant towards his direction, observing what he had brought her. She hadn't asked him to do that; why did he keep doing that? She didn't need anything of him, and yet there he was. Yellow eyes rolled to view the fresh kill and, with a shuddering sigh, Lynxstrike rose her head.
"I'm not hungry." Was she? Was she not? She couldn't tell, honestly, but she also struggled to bring herself to accept the meal placed before her. She glanced at him for a second time, eyes squinting as she tried to peer past long fur. "You haven't been eating," she accused, her voice low and almost demanding. It was true he had been a blur in the corner of her eye the last day or so, but she could see he wasn't the same bulk as before. That... wouldn't do. Was he starving himself for her?
Were death and starvation just going to be a theme in her life?
