hopeless wanderer (open)

Liontooth stared as the waters tumbled and screamed every bit of the way down to the pools below. They crashed and surged and tumbled and fought against it in ways the venerable tom cat felt he was intimately familiar with. Out here, away from the voices and eyes ever present at Skyclan’s campsite, he could let thoughts slip away into nothingness and just… listen. The large brute sat near the edge of the high cliffs and kept his unblinking vigil. He felt as though he should have heard her voice. It should have pained him and filled him with an aching loneliness now that she was gone.

But he didn’t feel it, and her voice never came to him. Rather than lonely, Liontooth simply grew more diligent in his work and rough towards the other cats of Skyclan.

The wind constantly ruffled his thick coat, and after many more long minutes of his unspoken watch continued. When the breeze finally shifted and brought Mothstar’s scent to him from farther along the cliffs, the older tom’s ears gently folded back against his skull. He didn’t understand it for a moment, but a small piece of him compelled over to her. Liontooth pushed himself to his paws and trudged along the high rises, his broad paw pads casually kicking pebbles out of the way as he went. In the beginning, Liontooth had actively challenged Mothstar’s leadership, especially when she had been named deputy. He resented her father, Hawkstar, and blamed him for many of the losses he suffered.

With time, he had adjusted to the young she-cat’s leadership, but he still didn’t call her friend.

“Were I a trespasser from another clan, this would have been the perfect opportunity to kill you,” the much larger cat frowned sternly, though the tone of his voice was far more amicable than the words would have implied. It seemed that despite how gruff he was, he was still at least attempting conversation. As he neared her, Liontooth slowed his pace and swept his gaze out across the territory behind her, eventually allowing his head to hang between his shoulders in a more relaxed state.

“You’re alone,” Liontooth murmured. Though it was said as a statement, the hesitant furrowing of his thick brow ridges and the curious way that his whiskers pulled forward gave off a rather conflicting set of signals. Tucking his chin towards his chest, Liontooth turned his eyes back to the falls.

So late in the day, with the sun setting in the distance and the stars beginning to glimmer distantly in the skyline, the constant drumming of water seemed to seep inside of his bones and reverberate within his muscles.

There were few cats that could meet and hold Liontooth’s gaze any longer. He had become something cold and intimidating, and inside of his eyes, no cat ever seemed to measure up to the standards that he held. Unsurprisingly, most chose to avoid Liontooth whenever he seemed to be of a mood, which was often.

Mothstar, however, proved to be different on more than one occasion.

It was one of the things about their interactions that eventually led him to relax into his role as one of her senior warriors, rather than second-guessing and picking apart each decision that she made. She had grit to her, and it was something that Liontooth found very easy to respect. Here, now, with the wind ruffling his fur and a sea of unspoken moments in their history tumbling about in the waters before them, it was no different.

If anything, the steady way in which she held his gaze, unflinching and unafraid, seemed to settle and reassure him. It was how normal cats looked at one another when speaking. It was how conversations were held, and it was something he remembered from Before, a time he didn’t enjoy thinking of. The big brute lowered himself until he was hunkered beside Mothstar, blocking at least half of the wind from buffeting his smaller leader. When she spoke, the only sign of his unease and hesitance was the slow lowering of his ears.

”Perhaps that would solve a lot of problems,”

Liontooth snorted once, and then shook his head. ”Even worse, if it meant that one would be leader,” Liontooth remarked dryly, commenting on their current deputy. Of the choices Mothstar had made during her time as deputy and leader, her choice in deputy was another that Liontooth had questioned—and he had questioned his new deputy even moreso than he had Mothstar.

”I’ll take my chances.” He added, and after a moment, he cleared his throat. The older tom had meant it to be a positive remark on Mothstar’s recent accomplishments, but as unpracticed as he was in the art of praise, he had no way of knowing if it would express what he meant.

”I needed a place to think quietly..”

As she explained herself, Liontooth fought back a small, scathing smile at the differences in their reasoning for being so near the falls. She wished for answers and reasons, to hear what was next—and Liontooth wanted nothing more than to stop his mind from working and reflecting. At the mention of Starclan and their unending silence—or worse yet, the riddles—Liontooth bristled right alongside Mothstar. Formerly a tom fairly devout in his dedication to his ancestors, Liontooth found his opinions of Starclan shifting quite drastically over the last two years.

”Does that surprise you?” Liontooth said, a deep chest grunt following his words, and a soft, sympathetic chuckle.

It felt strange to have connected with places in their new home, and to know that he would never see the last one again. Their new territory was just that—territory. It wasn’t home yet, but if they kept fighting and surviving, perhaps eventually it could be. His thoughts continued to drift towards the future, to things they still had yet to do. There were ways they could yet reinforce the camp to protect from enemy attacks. So far from other clans before, it had never been necessary for Liontooth to think of large scale invasions, but now, with three clans less than pleased about their presence, and another in a tenuous, perhaps false alliance…

"liontooth, maybe you could help with some answers," Thoughts of nurseries reinforced with thorns and brambles scattered to the winds as she spoke, and Liontooth offered a soft grunt in response, shifting in place and folding one of his forepaws underneath his chest, eyelids drooping as he glanced in his leader’s direction. More than used to providing his counsel whether it was requested or not, it as easy to get into the mindset.

”If I knew the answers, I wouldn’t have kept them to myself,” he admitted, forcing a small smile that looked very out of place on his stern countenance. Nevertheless, the brute listened in.

"i know you of all cats are the quickest to jump into battle, but please, speak rationally with me,"

Though another cat might have expressed trouble with essentially being called blood-thirsty and irrational, Liontooth merely dipped his head in recognition of her request. She didn’t want his gut impulse, she wanted the notions that he had wrestled with for many nights, the conflicting thoughts and what if’s that hadn’t been spoken of by either side. This, he could do. He didn’t want to—he didn’t like the possibilities that his mind conjured—but he could share them.

"this.. alliance, with thunderclan. what do you think of it?"

Much as one might have expected, his thick coat began to prickle again, and the low pitched beginnings of a rough, throaty growl started to bud inside of his throat. He didn’t’ like it. He didn’t trust it, and he doubted that he ever would. All he could remember were the early days and the mistrustful glares and excuses given when they claimed their territory. He remember the first time a rival patrol had stepped across the borders that they had agreed to, and the fury he felt at thinking that these… mongrels would make everything that they had been through and everything that they had endured amount to nothing.

And he saw red. Liontooth became the first to draw blood between the clans, and the most hungry for it.

But then Thunderclan had presented far more welcoming attitudes than the other clans, and it made many of their clan mates forget the early battles and the wounds inflicted—but Liontooth never would. He saw his son waste away to an affection gleaned from a wound he never would have had if the other clans hadn’t gone back on their word. He would never trust another clan for as long as he lived.

”When I was a young warrior, I once watched a pack of dogs fight over a half-eaten rabbit corpse,” Liontooth began, slowly raising his head so that he could peer out at the skyline, searching for a pattern among the stars that he hadn’t seen in many moons. Sometimes, he wondered if he would ever see it again. The brawny male pushed himself to a seated position and continued to look out at the darkening dusk sky. It was easier that way.

”Two of the dogs began working together, and they pushed the others away from their prize,” He could see the promise that the other cats clung to so desperately, the times of hope and prosperity that would follow their agreements, the increased feelings of security... ”But when the time came to share in the spoils they had earned, the larger and stronger of the two turned on his companion,” These were the thoughts that Liontooth drifted more often towards—the subtle tensions that would arise, and the second betrayal and broken promise that would see the end of the alliance.

”He devoured her and left the rabbit.” Liontooth finished quietly, and the thick muscles across his shoulders stiffened notably as his eyes trailed lower to the ground beneath his paws.

Once he had finished, Liontooth dipped his chin towards his chest to await a response to his grim predictions and worries. It unsettled him to have thought of them again, and it was clear by the way he refused to relax his posture afterwards. His eyes stared out at the final orange and red streaks in the skies, and a slow sigh escaped him.

"liontooth, if we push thunderclan away, the whole forest will be against us,"

The older of the two lowered his brows and uttered a low note from the pit of his chest. After everything that Skyclan had overcome, he wouldn’t accept defeat from the paws of another cat. It was too pitiful, too preventable. Through training and dedication, he knew they could eventually grow strong enough to stand for themselves, without having to look over their shoulders for fear of a rival clan’s invasion.

”I respect that you feel this is the best choice for Skyclan,” Liontooth spoke slowly, sometimes stumbling over his words as he dug and dug to articulate himself properly, ”I disagree, but I wasn’t chosen to lead the clan.” The grizzled tom cat’s eyes turned down towards the younger she-cat. For a short time, he merely stared. The silence was broken when she continued, and Liontooth listened with grim attentiveness.

"we are still weak, we cannot afford a large-scale attack. even these border skirmishes are making me nervous."

The Senior Warrior focused his eyes elsewhere at this, a contemplative grumble rolling about in the back of his throat. Their numbers have dwindled significantly over the last year, and since their arrival, there had yet to be any new blood within the clan. New warriors knew less than they should due to the journey taking up their apprenticeship, and he worried about what would become of Skyclan’s strength.

”It will take time,” Liontooth nodded once, tightening his lips and the thick jowls at the corners of his jaw, ”The clan will grow with a territory to support it.” He only hoped that it happened quickly. He had fought against many different warriors from their two neighboring clans, and he knew that he hadn’t yet seen many others. They couldn’t afford to be out numbered forever, especially if nothing changed.

"i don't know foxstar's motives for allying with us, but he seems genuine. i don't--i just don't know what to think or who to trust."

Liontooth shook his head and wrinkled his muzzle at the remark of Foxstar being genuine. He didn’t see it, all he saw were potential threats. What if he intended to absorb the clan, or at least the cats of his choosing? Or worse, to pit them against other clans in a grander and larger scheme that would see the others uniting against them more fervently?

”If you do this, I only ask that when the time comes, we are the bigger dog.”