Like Father Like Son - Duststorm

[Foxstrike]

[[ Duststorm - What a creative title lol ]]

Foxstrike found that not having to train daily was an odd thing to get used to. Since becoming a warrior, he had no obligation to go out training with Lynxheart, which was something that relieved him as much as it put him off. It meant more time to himself, which meant more time to strengthen his skills on his own time, which was good, but even so- he would have to get used to dictating more of his own schedule from now on.

He had just returned from a lone hunting trip (he had caught a few birds, since newleaf was well on the way) when he caught the scent of a cat he felt he should have recognized. Their scent stirred something embedded deep in the back of his mind, and it was familiar, but he wasn't putting a name to it.

Come to think of it, it reminded him slightly of his own scent, yet he was so used to blocking that out he hadn't noticed it at first. Foxstrike padded to where he knew the fresh-kill pile was, placing his own catches nearby, and then made his way to the familiar-yet-not scent, a new sense of urgency to his step. He had to find out who this cat was. "Excuse me-" he called, not liking to speak so loudly, but desperate to grab the tom's (at least he assumed it was a tom) attention. "Have we met before? I recognize you from somewhere but I don't remember when." He had a feeling it was probably important, though, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered.

[Duststorm]

So he had been a little absent lately. Really, he had a lot of reasons for walking out on TreeClan for a few moons. Duststorm had taken it upon himself the duty of mentoring the new apprentices of TreeClan, and he had taken their apprenticeship to heart. He loved to mentor a young cat to old, though his heart had broken a bit at each apprentice who went missing. It did hurt. And when he'd try to pick up the pieces with someone new, sure enough they left. It left Dusty feeling as if it were his fault. Had he not been a good enough mentor to them? Had they expected someone greater to start their apprenticeship? Had he been a huge letdown?

And before even that, his childhood friend and mate Rainbreeze had gone missing. And to move on from her, despite every voice in Dusty's head pleading he couldn't do that to her, Dusty had met Brissa. A loner he truly had fallen in love with, despite most probably seeing it as a rebound.

And then Brissa had gone missing. And Dust had completely walked off in his grief.

Finally, after finding his undying loyalty to TreeClan once more and his responsibilities as a warrior weighing down on his shoulders, Duststorm had returned. He had traveled not too far, but barely remembered where he had gone and what he had seen. Did TreeClan even notice his absence?

Did his children?

It occurred to him Dusty had not only walked out on TreeClan, but his own kits as well. The three from Meadowlark's litter. And the ones he had never met with Brissa. Brissa who... was gone forever... like Rainbreeze....

I'm such a mess. the silver tabby muttered to himself as he tore into a shrew, his golden eyes staring into the distance. I left to clear my head, so I could return in a much better state than when I had left. I feel better... but worse at the same time. Does TreeClan hate me? He peered around for a moment, trying to see if anyone was glaring at him. But no. Not that he could tell. Would I deserve the glares if I got them? Or the hate from my kits? Would they understand my pain, or kick me away in disappointment I wasn't a stronger father? I've hung on for so long, piling my hopes and dreams into cats who just fade away.... His heart suddenly hurt at the word he had chosen. Fadingnight, the half-sister he had been so close to... she was gone, too. But not missing or dead--she was in FireClan. Duststorm didn't hate his sister for her choice. In fact, he was impressed by her courage. And he hoped she was happy across the borders. The last cat he really knew and loved had to be happy, right? It didn't settle right if she wasn't.

Suddenly, a loud voice snapped Duststorm back to reality. The warrior turned his head to the direction of the sound, finding a tomcat coming closer and asking why he looked familiar. For a moment, his firefly golden eyes shimmered with confusion. He didn't know this cat--Duststorm had never met someone who even remotely looked like this warrior. But then his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

"Ah," he swallowed nervously. And then he offered a wary smile. "I'm called Duststorm, if that helps. You would be...?"

The scent. The scent was... so familiar... Brissa? No, it had to be....

"You're... m--Brissa's son?"


{ very creative~! xD }

[Foxstrike]

[[ AW DUSTSTORM POOR BABY ]]

Foxstrike wondered if he had made a mistake by approaching the tom. He seemed to become more nervous because of his question, and Foxstrike considered apologizing for his intrusion and walking away, but something kept him here. The fact that this tom was acting so strangely, perhaps, but he thought it was something more. He blinked blankly at the "stranger's" clearly awkward response, listening carefully to the tone of it and attempting to find any hidden meaning behind the words. Did he seem afraid of Foxstrike? No- maybe a touch.

It wasn't until Foxstrike heard the name that his blind eyes widened a considerable amount- normally he wouldn't make such an outright show of his shock, but the circumstances had earned it this time. He recognized the name, definitely. Brissa had mentioned it, once or twice, and Foxstrike had latched onto it even as a kit. It made sense now that Duststorm's scent was similar to his own. He didn't know how exactly to feel, having met his father only now, instead of moons ago, like he should have. Somewhat relieved....and confused- he wondered why he had left. But he was angry, too- you'd think your own father would have managed to watch you grow up. Foxstrike moved to hide his confusion quickly, and made an effort to keep the pent up anger out of his voice.

Yes, Foxstrike was angry, and frustrated, but he wasn't going to make Duststorm feel guilty about that. Not yet, at the very least. Not until he had been given a reason.

"...yes," Foxstrike finally replied, after a while, somewhat uncertainly. "...and yours, I believe," he added, hesitantly, wondering if it was the correct thing to mention at this time. "She mentioned you, before-" Before she had disappeared. Foxstrike felt a pang in his chest, but he didn't know why. He'd only met her once or twice, and they'd never been particularly close.

"I'm Foxstrike," he meowed, after a short pause. It felt like the only other thing to say. He didn't exactly feel like adding on the customary 'nice to meet you' because he wasn't sure it was.

[Duststorm]

{ T-T ]


Duststorm hesitated. His son would he angry. He expected it. Deserved it, right? His son had a right to yell, to scream, to even attack him if he wanted. Dusty wouldn't stop him. Best to get the main anger out of the way now than wait for it to explode later and surprise him. "...Yes. Brissa...." his voice trailed off, slipping the hurt into his words just before he could cut it out as his former mate's name. He wasn't ever going to see her smile. Hear her laugh. Feel her fur pressed against his. Talk about kits, and the future, and how TreeClan would love her. Had they loved the former loner? Did they love the half blood kittens of a TreeClanner and loner? Was his son--Foxstrike he had said--treated harshly for not only having no parents with him, but also having loner blood?

Dusty gave his head a stiff shake. He couldn't think that. He couldn't imagine his children treated like trash because of his choice in their mother, which had been far from a mistake. It hurt too much just thinking about them being bullied in the first place, but tying it to his own fault... the silver warrior felt more disappointed in himself than ever before.

He cleared his throat. "Foxstrike." he repeated softly. And then he offered a kind smile, similar to the one he always wore. "It's a proud name. I like it... I'm glad Brissa named you Fox." He paused for a moment. He had so much to say but no way to say it. He wanted his son to love him, to find the father in Duststorm he always wanted to be. He always dreamed of himself the fun father who would wrestle and tease his kids, fluffing their fur up on their kitten heads and visiting them every day and teaching them all he knew about the world. Story after story, of his time in the nursery moons and moons before. When he met their mother, deliberately stating how romantic it had been and making the little ones become sickened at the parent love. Being at their apprentice ceremony and cheering the loudest, and patting their mentors on the back and wishing them luck on the mini brats. And watching them grow. That was the father he had always wanted to be.

Staring at Foxstrike now, he realized he missed it all. All the childhood memories, all the things a son would talk to a father about instead of the overprotective mother... everything in the past. And maybe everything in the future. What if Foxstrike never wanted Duststorm in his life again? What if Foxstrike had a family of his own, and Dusty wasn't even allowed to play with his grandkits? What if Foxstrike hated him, completely despised the father who was never there. The father who had failed.

Taking a deep breath, the silver tabby finally spoke. "Son," he began with his glowing eyes deep pools of regret. "I understand if you hate me. In fact, I'd understand if you want nothing to do with me ever again. I should have been there. I wish I was. I was so excited Brissa was having kits, and then... things just broke. I broke and I'm not proud of it. I'm not going to make excuses for what I've done, because you don't deserve that. You deserve everything I didn't give you--a father to grow up with." The silver tabby stopped for a moment, letting his words sink in, and then he went on. "I'm back now. I left to return in a better condition than I was, and so I'm here now. If you want anything to do with me, I'd be willing to be your father... the one I was suppose to be... even if you don't need me anymore. I'll always be here. And I... I do love you. I love Brissa, I love you, I love all my kits, and I love all the cats I have lost. I made a mistake in leaving, but I never made a mistake in having you."

He waited for another moment of silence. Just waiting for Foxstrike's response.

[Foxstrike]

Foxstrike found it difficult to read Duststorm's tone properly. Part of it was that he didn't want to hear it- to hear that resigned, somewhat apologetic tone. He wanted to find a reason to snap at him, part of him wanted to have any excuse to shout at Duststorm, yet when he listened to his words, he couldn't find anything. No reason to be mad, no reason not to push his anger aside and try to start over.

All this time, he didn't think he was bothered. Plenty of cats didn't even know who their fathers were, and Foxstrike had almost felt proud. At least he had a name, right? No voice to attach it to, no personality, but he had more than most, and that had to have counted for something. But now- now he realized that something had been building up inside of him, some sort of grudge towards the cat that was never there for him. The rational part of him knew it was childish to lash out now- and that was the only reason he refused to say anything about it.

That, and the fact that it would be wrong to do that to somebody who regretted what they had done, and who was trying to make it right.

So Foxstrike bit back his insults. He only nodded at Duststorm's comment about his name, swallowing the bitter You could have been there for it that was bubbling in his throat. He pressed down his pride and let his father talk. He winced slightly at the word 'son'- he'd never been called that before and wasn't entirely sure if Duststorm had the right to call him that, but he didn't say anything about it. He listened silently, considering the words carefully, reading the tone and sincerity behind them. Had Foxstrike been in Duststorm's position, he wondered what he would have done. If Hornetstripe ever-

No- he wouldn't go there. Not yet. He wasn't ready to admit he cared that much about her to himself yet.

Would he have run away, though? Would he have crumbled under the pressure and snapped like a twig? Maybe. Foxstrike's clouded gray eyes were fixed on the ground as he continued to consider Duststorm's words. The silence stretched on for a while as Foxstrike wondered what would be the right thing to say- what did he want to say?

"I...don't hate you," he admitted after a while, breaking the quiet that had started to linger. "I was- I am angry, but I don't hate you. I can't...not when I know that I might have done the same thing." It was hard for him to speak about himself so openly, but maybe it felt right to do it with his father. That's what fathers were there for, after all, right? To talk to, to confide in, even if Foxstrike rarely liked doing that with anyone. "And not when I can tell that you didn't mean to hurt anyone by leaving. Even if you weren't there before...you are now, and you're trying to make it right. That's what matters." Foxstrike exhaled slowly and brought his blank eyes back up to where he had mentally placed Duststorm's face.

"I'm willing to forgive you, and to start over." He truthfully was. He was conflicted about the matter, but he was sure of that much.

[Duststorm]

Duststorm could feel his heart beating loudly in the silence that followed, afraid of his son's answer. Would he be angry? Well, of course. He expected bitterness above all else. But he hoped, a fleeting little speck of hope, that Foxstrike would be able to forgive him. Even if it wasn't the honest truth of it all. Dusty deserved the rage from his kit in neglecting the childhood Fox had. He deserved everything. Perhaps Brissa's disappearance was punishment for everything. Perhaps Rainbreeze's, too. Perhaps it was all just one punishment for himself, and all that had broken him in the end. He wasn't happy with himself. No one was. There was nothing to be proud of his in actions of leaving--he had let down the Clan, and his kin. He deserved all their hate. Banishment, even? He didn't want to make a list, it terrified him.

But Foxstrike had spoken. Confirming his suspicions on the anger. But he was willing to forgive. To start over. Duststorm's firefly golden eyes shown with awe, unbelieving of the opportunity. He was certain Foxstrike hadn't fully forgiven him, but it was a start. A chance he wasn't willing to let slip away. Gathering a level voice together, the silver tabby spoke up. "I'd like that, Foxstrike." he told his son, lowering his head down in a nod. "I understand your anger. You have the right to shout at me, if you want. Or--anything, really. I deserve it for leaving you and your siblings to fend for themselves as kittens. Because I'll never be able to forgive myself." He offered a soft smile. "So, technically, you don't have to forgive me, kid. I did something I'm not happy with, and whatever makes you feel better, feel free to do."


{ so late and the muse just died on me, uuuuuuugh }