Hailwatcher stirs, his field of vision slowly becoming clear.

As he pulls himself up from his nest, last night's vision immediately flies into his mind.

He tries to remember any details he may be forgetting, but the only thing that comes to mind is the gaping, jagged abyss and the sinister red light radiating from its depths.

He starts to question whether StarClan is merely toying with him, finding himself an inadequate candidate onto which to place the burden of such knowledge.

Sunlight filters through gaps in the cavern's ceiling, providing rays of sunlight to nourish the medicine den's seedlings.

Hailwatcher pads over to the herb stores, steadying his balance in the process, and glances down at a little bundle of herbs and flowers- Thornflight's creation, just for him.

Slightclaw's scathing 'half-clan' remarks linger in his mind and he grimaces.

He gently paws it and notices the marigold flower squeezed in between two juniper branches.

The small gray tom sighs, tucking the bundle behind his ear, and starts to pace around while he thinks of something to do.

He considers going outside and socializing, whatever that entails, but realizes that his Clanmates will feel some obligation to congratulate him, actual feelings about the matter notwithstanding.

Hailwatcher snaps from his thoughts as he looks over at the entrance to the medicine den; the hanging vines covering the entrance start to quiver.

Getting a bit nervous, the small gray tom cautiously advances closer to the den mouth.

"Who's there...?"

"Boo!"

A brown blur comes flying at Hailwatcher from behind the vine curtain, crashing into him.

Hailwatcher hits the ground with a thump, dust flying up around him.

Trying to figure out what's going on, he squirms as paws slam down on his shoulders and pin him down.

"Got you good this time!"

Still struggling in this familiar assailant's grasp, Hailwatcher gives up and goes limp.

A moment later, the other cat's grip on his pelt loosens and he manages to pull himself out from under them.

Standing before him is a mottled brown tom only a bit taller than himself with a wide, devious grin on his face.

Recognizing Kestrelwing, Slightstar's younger apprentice with a propensity for supposed pranks, Hailwatcher sighs.

"What was that for?" he protests, smoothing down his fur while keeping a wary eye on the mottled warrior.

"Just for fun," replies Kestrelwing with a sneer, slipping behind Hailwatcher and whacking him in the face with his tail.

"Oops!"

"Hey!"

Hailwatcher scowls, unamused, though his large eyes and kitlike facial features do a bad job of helping him look menacing.

"Aw, are you angry? Whatcha gonna do about it, huh?" Kestrelwing's insufferable grin stretches even wider as he starts to cackle at his own taunt, green eyes narrowing in a provocative sneer.

"Learn how to take a joke!"

"..Why are you like this?" Hailwatcher hisses, rubbing his head.

"I'm just trying to-" The young medicine cat starts toward the mouth of the den, only to jerk back in pain as Kestrelwing's paw slams down on his tail.

"Hey! Get back here," the mottled warrior hisses, narrowing his eyes.

Starting to become frightened, Hailwatcher carefully shuffles back toward Kestrelwing to lessen the strain on his tail.

"What do you want?"

Kestrelwing's expression becomes more dark as he unsheathes his claws and lightly drags them along Hailwatcher's tail before releasing it.

Pointedly pulling his tail back toward him, the small tom surveys it for injuries and finds none.

"Listen up, pipsqueak," the mottled warrior growls; Hailwatcher flinches away as he feels warm air ruffle the fur on the side of his neck.

"Kestrelwing-"

"Quiet! I'm not finished!"

Hailwatcher sighs shakily, falling quiet again.

"Kestrelwing?" a third voice chimes in; Russetblaze, Slightclaw's first apprentice and Kestrelwing's usual companion, pokes his striped face into the medicine den.

Kestrelwing hisses something under his breath, expression contorting into a snarl.

"What do you want?"

Russetblaze weakly clears his throat, flicking a tufted ear.

"Slightclaw needs you for a moment, if you don't mind."

The mottled warrior stalks over to Russetblaze, grumbling under his breath.

Hailwatcher mumbles his gratitude to the russet tabby, flinching suddenly as a shiver runs up his spine.

Russetblaze stares awkwardly at Hailwatcher, grimacing apologetically as his thick tail sways back and forth.

"Let's go," the russet tabby mutters to Kestrelwing, ushering him out of the medicine den.

"That was weird," Hailwatcher murmurs to himself, coming to the conclusion that Kestrelwing himself is also strange.

Suddenly feeling a need to get out of the medicine den, he shuffles toward the vine curtain and cautiously sticks his head out.

Hailwatcher, content to avoid crowds, lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of the scarcely populated camp.

Hailwatcher steps out of the medicine den completely and shakes out his pelt, dislodging bits of dried plants from his thick fur.

Kestrelwing and Russetblaze are nowhere to be seen, but from prior experience Hailwatcher knows the former will soon be finding a place to wait and jumpscare an unfortunate passerby.

The few other cats in the clearing are scattered around the massive pine tree in the center of camp, waiting expectantly for the earlier hunting patrol to return.

Hailwatcher tentatively seats himself in front of the medicine den, intently surveying the camp entrance as the bramble tunnel starts to rustle.

The four-cat hunting patrol files back into camp, carrying plenty of prey for the whole Clan.

Leading the patrol, and carrying a massive toad, is a tall cream and black tom named Raggedfoot; he glances around sternly and shifts his balance on his hind leg.

Hailwatcher, painfully aware of his soured standing with his former mentor, gets up but tries not to make eye contact.

Newtstripe, Kestrelwing's more even-tempered brother, and his mate Robinear follow, right by each other's sides as usual.

Making up the back of the patrol are Raggedfoot's kits; Acornpaw, carrying a limp newt, and his sister Fallowpaw, bouncing along with a mouse in her jaws.

Hailwatcher carefully approaches Acornpaw as he places his catch on top of the fresh-kill pile.

"Nice catch," he mutters amicably, mustering a small smile.

Acornpaw briefly glances up, a distant look in his eyes.

The skinny golden-and-black tom points his gaze sharply at the ground, shifting a paw in the dust.

"Oh- thanks..."

The exchange hazards a glare from Raggedfoot to Hailwatcher, who backs up apologetically.

The skinny apprentice glances concernedly at his father before nodding dismissively to Hailwatcher and scurrying off.

The strange tension between the group grows more and more tangible by the moment, thick enough to be sliced by a claw.

Fallowpaw drops her catch in the pile and makes herself scarce, padding off to the apprentices' den and wriggling inside.

Now alone with Raggedfoot, Hailwatcher cautiously side-eyes the cream and black tom; letting out a small cough, he steps toward the fresh-kill pile and grabs a small newt by the tail.

Raggedfoot clears his throat, staring gravely down at his former apprentice.

Hailwatcher shrinks away, the newt dangling in his jaws.

Skeptical curiosity regarding his former mentor's intentions begins to settle in as he scans Raggedfoot's expression.

Raggedfoot retains his regular stiff posture, hind left leg held off the ground.

Hailwatcher finds himself staring at Raggedfoot's mangled leg, through more out of medical curiosity than pity or horror.

Burn scars cover the outside of Raggedfoot's leg, stretching from his paw to just below his stomach.

Despite himself, Hailwatcher's curiosity about a course of treatment for the lack of mobility and extensive damage remains.

"Well?" Raggedfoot mews coldly, a hint of a hiss in his voice.

"Do you have something to say?"

Hailwatcher draws back and shakes his head, gripping the newt tighter in his jaws.

"Open your mouth when you address me," Raggedfoot snaps, taking a step toward Hailwatcher and planting his front paws into the ground.

Alarmed, Hailwatcher flinches back and finds himself staring intently at Raggedfoot's paws.

He watches for the glimmer of unsheathed claws unprompted, a creeping worry that history will repeat itself causing his legs to tremble slightly.

"....Sorry," Hailwatcher mumbles, fidgeting anxiously with his paws.
Raggedfoot grunts wordlessly in reply, focused on intently scrutinizing Hailwatcher.

After several heartbeats of silence, the cream and black tom straightens again and flicks his tail sharply.

"Get out of my face," he hisses, pressing his hind leg against the ground and growling in discomfort.

Hailwatcher obliges, tightening his grip on the newt and shuffling back toward the entrance to the medicine den.

-=-

Hailwatcher seats himself in front of the vine curtain, placing down the newt at his paws.

He bitterly brushes a scar on his nose bridge with a paw and glances across the clearing at Raggedfoot and his mate Amberfur eating together; Amberfur flashes him a smile warm with the love of a mother, of some tender familiarity, but to Hailwatcher it feels merely hollow.

He feels abjectly abandoned by the both of them but her especially; the one who nursed him and raised him as her own until Raggedfoot's stiff, limited affection for him finally petered out.

Feeling more alone than ever, at his circumstantial solitude and the creeping abandonment that weighs him down, Hailwatcher tries to focus on something else.