[Mica]

Birdpaw
ShadowClan Apprentice
she/her | 10 moons | 96/100
[Grey tabby with dark overcoat, white underside and amber eyes]
Purrks: Lyrebird's Lullaby [PERMANENTLY ACTIVE], Don't Mind If I Do!
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ The Fool ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
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[ Darkfall - @Dark | Wispypaw - @Kix | Quietpaw - @Morrigan | Moonpaw - @Poprock | Quillpaw - @idia | Cinderpaw - @Neptune. | Bleedingpaw - @Rani | Sleepysunrise - Estelle | @Rose ]
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There's no lullaby...
in this nowhere land.

Papa approaching her was surprising, as Birdpaw didn't really interact with anyone in her family anymore. Pondpaw was really the only cat she spent time with, as even Mossfreckle had grown too busy to seek her out. But she didn't mind! She had gotten used to it over the moons. That just meant that when Papa asked her to join him, Birdpaw was extra excited! One by one they gathered her siblings, each of them getting a cheery nose to the cheek in greeting from the oldest of the remaining siblings. Wispypaw, then Quietpaw, then Moonpaw--who Birdpaw was somewhat pleased to see return, completely unaware of the stunt he had pulled during the move to the new camp--then Quillpaw, then Cinderpaw, then... Birdpaw's smile faltered for a moment as Darkfall approached Bleedingpaw. He... wasn't an Ark Kit. Sure, Mama seemed to favor him more than the others, but Birdpaw had just thought this was a father/directly-decended-children thingy. Well, that was okay. Bleedingpaw seemed nice, even if he had monopolized Mama's attention. Birdpaw greeted him with a nose to the cheek too, careful not to topple the wobbly tom over.

Everyone seemed tense as they followed Papa, but Birdpaw couldn't understand why. The sky was such a pretty red because of the sunset, and the dark pines stood out against the ruby clouds! It was nice and cool because it was leaf-fall, and lots of crunchy leaves and pine cones littered the ground for Birdpaw to pounce on. At ten moons Birdpaw was still the smallest of the bunch (save for maybe Bleedingpaw), and she looked like a freshly-made apprentice out into the territory for the first time. But little did everyone know, she had already passed her warrior assessment, and at the next meeting she would be made a warrior! She wanted to surprise everyone, but it was REALLY hard to keep it a secret. Only Sleepysunrise knew. Birdpaw would have liked to tell Mama, but she hadn't seen the pale she-cat anywhere recently, so she resigned herself to telling Mama at the earliest opportunity. Maybe that would be today! Wherever Papa was leading them was likely where Mama was.

A vine-covered tunnel loomed in front of them, but Birdpaw felt no fear as she followed directly behind her father into the darkness. The tunnel was short and lead into a broad open field covered in wildflowers. Birdpaw trilled happily, wasting no time in bouncing through the flowers and watching petals flutter and bugs whiz by, disturbed by her interloping.

Papa called them to attention, and Birdpaw begrudgingly stomped back, having to raise her small paws up high to get over the tall flowers. Man, being tiny was really difficult sometimes! Birdpaw sat in front of Papa, eagerly awaiting whatever he was about to tell them. It was difficult for her to focus since there were so many buggies around that were just so interesting and oh! A grasshopper! Birdpaw stared at it as the bug hoped underneath the grasses, taunting her with its movements. Papa began speaking, so Birdpaw did her best to listen. He launched into the story about how he brought Mama here to ask her to be his mate, how pretty she was, making flower crowns... aww, how romantic! Would Birdpaw find someone like that eventually? Would someone talk about her with the same expression Papa wore? But... something was off. Papa, while reminiscing about a sweet moment... he looked distant. That in it of itself was hardly a surprise, but the heaviness in his voice as he continued on and on about Mama... It made the usual delight in Birdpaw's heart falter.

Papa left to gather flowers, and Birdpaw hesitantly got to her paws, following his movements subconsciously. She canted her head, this way and that, ever a perfect representation of her name. When he returned and placed a small, bright yellow flower at her paws, Birdpaw trilled gratefully and nosed his face before he pulled away. Were they going to make flower crowns? They'd need a lot more flowers if they were going to do that...

Papa continued, this time detailing a trip he took to the Darkwater Mire. His words confused her, each one blocking her from comprehending the next. She started shaking her head as if that would help, the repetitive motion almost serving to clear each word one at a time. M-Mirepaw? Birdpaw's head shot up, eyes wide at the mention of her sister. Mirepaw was alive?? Birdpaw glanced around, wondering why she wasn't here with them. Wouldn't Mirepaw want to come back home? Had she joined another clan? Had she found Heronpaw? Birdpaw opened her mouth to ask about her sister, but was cut off by Papa's final, damning sentence.

"Your mother's dead."

Such a simple sentence. Three words, four syllables. Silence stretched over the gathered cats, the tension at an unbearable breaking point while everyone processed what was just said. It was so blunt--a story of hope and love ended with a cruel final sentence meant to shatter hearts. But not Birdpaw. Birdpaw had always been cognitively slower than her siblings--unbeknownst to everyone including her, it had become a coping mechanism to deal with a broken family and having no connections--so instead of rushing off like Quietpaw suddenly did, Birdpaw shook her head.

"No, Mama can't be dead." Birdpaw chirped as though they were talking about the weather, her voice a shaky echo of Sleepysunrise's. "No, I-I just passed my assessment. I was--I--I was g-gonna tell her--" Even as she spoke, tears welled in her eyes and grief flooded her chest. "I was gonna tell her I-I'm gonna get my ceremony soon--" agony dripped from each word, tears streaking down her grey and white face.

And then he had the audacity to move on. To instead of letting his children take in their grief, to make the same promises he made when they were six moons old in the old medicine den, shredded by their mother's harsh words. Start anew? Start anew??? Their mother was dead! BIRDPAW'S MAMA WAS DEAD.

BIRDPAW'S MAMA WAS DEAD.

BIRDPAW'S MAMA WAS DEAD.

Someone began screaming. It rang loudly in Birdpaw's ears, shaking her small body, forcing her breath out in jagged cries as her weak lungs struggled to keep up with the onslaught. She couldn't hear Papa anymore. Couldn't see him addressing Bleedingpaw--because of course he would address Bleedingpaw. Everyone LOVED Bleedingpaw. Bleedingpaw Bleedingpaw Bleedingpaw--

"WHAT ABOUT BIRDPAW????"

The apprentice hadn't realized she screamed it out loud until eyes turned to her. But she didn't care. "WHAT ABOUT ME?? WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF US? ARE YOU GOING TO BE A FATHER TO US? WHY HIM? WHY WHY WHY WHY?????" With each word her volume rose, a rare hatred burning in her eyes. Hatred for whom? She didn't know. Papa had chosen his sorrow, Mama had chosen Bleedingpaw, Grandmother had chosen Sleepysunrise, Mossfreckle had chosen Rookfire--no one had chosen her. Of course Birdpaw didn't really blame Bleedingpaw. It wasn't his fault that he got more attention. But moons of sorrow and self-loathing morphed into a sickening tangle of emotions that was, unfortunately, directed at Darkfall.

"WHY WON'T ANY OF YOU CHOOSE US!"

Her words dissolved into a drawn out, anguished cry. Birdpaw collapsed, screaming into the dirt and soaking it with her tears. Her chest spasmed as her lungs seized, and her cry was cut short as she gasped for air. This was a nightmare--this wasn't real--nothing was real. Nothing was real. Nothing. She was nothing. Birdpaw was nothing.

She had always been balanced on the thin blade between mental stability and the tangled abyss of roots that called to her. She had always been a little absent, a little distant, hidden behind a veil of good intentions and blissful ignorance. Anything could have tipped her over the edge.

But this flung her into the darkness.

Birdpaw went silent, staring with unseeing eyes at the shredded yellow flower her father had given her. She didn't register anyone around her, the grief of her siblings, their anger, resentment, any of it. The little echo-bird had been dashed against a stone, insides spilling over the ground and staining it red. She was nothing more than an empty, hollow shell. A vessel. Empty.

Mama was gone, and so too was Birdpaw.