Where All Of The Walls All Continually Change

[le Dawnz]

WindClan's camp was bustling with energy. Warriors slipped in and out of the clearing, prey clamped between their teeth or their fur ruffled from a run along the border, apprentices at the heals of their mentors with a spark of excitement in their eyes at the prospect of another lesson. Other apprentices scurried around, cleaning bedding and bringing freshkill to the elders and queens. Kits paraded around infront of the nursery, trying for all it was worth to look older than they were and playing nursery games.

A tabby tom lay at the base of High Stump, taking in the sight of his Clan with a mixture of pride and devotion swelling in his chest. He smiled, smoothing the fur on his chest with his tongue and thinking how different his life had been only a moon before. Back then, he was known as Hawkwing. He'd been a young and dedicated warrior, amiable and careless. And then suddenly, he was deputy.

He still wasn't sure how it had happened. By some strange will of StarClan, he could only imagine, Emorystar had chosen Hawkwing to fill the void left when Windstar had retired to Shadowclan (which had been somewhat of a shock itself, and yet not all that surprising at the same time) and Emorystar had taken his place. And not even a moon later, Emorystar had died. Something inside Emorystar had snapped, sending the world spinning wildly out of control. It hadn't been visible to the Clan, but Hawkstar couldn't imagine what kind of turmoil must have been warring in his mind. Emorystar had ended up taking each and every one of his nine lives over the course of his moon as leader, confessing his deeds to Hawkwing only in his last moments.

Lost and confused, unsure of his capabilities and of his qualifications to lead an entire Clan, Hawkstar had had a rocky start. He appointed Aspenleaf, one of the strongest warriors he knew and a life-long friend, his deputy, taking comfort in knowing if he screwed up she'd be there to straighten him out, which she just happened to be exceptionally good at doing. His senior warriors had been patient with him, and Foxheart, a beautiful she-cat, had proven helpful and encouraging on many occasions. He'd been able to rise to his duties quickly and effectively, and now felt only a little self-doubt buried at the back of his mind, which he assumed must be natural.

A new feeling washed through him, warming his pelt, as his thoughts rested on Foxheart. The kind, amicable young warrior had become a great friend over the past moon, and Hawkstar was just beginning to realize that his feelings toward the ginger she-cat had grown beyond just friendship. Unfortunately, Hawkstar had no way of knowing if Foxheart felt the same way. He'd grown stronger and more confident in himself since his leader ceremony, but the thought of confronting the attractive she-cat sent mice scittering through his stomach.

No. For now he'd just have to wait and see. If he was too cowardly to tell her how he felt, there was really nothing else he could do.