•◇•
“ Question Good, And Question Bad”
•◇•

"But... But. He can be treated, right?" The brown tabby mumbled.

"Apparently." Dawnclaw answered.
"I'll have to talk it over with Swiftear. And Aquiver too, I guess."

Pinetuft looked at her; his eyes pained.
"Well, this wasn't what we were expecting. But we wanted kits. So we have to be the best parents we can be, we owe that to them." He said.

Dawnclaw cast him an affectionate look. This was the cat that she fell in love with.

"Pinetuft, you're a natural parent. Me? Not so much. I wanted perfect kits, in fact I didn't even want kits in the first place!" She laughed slightly, but it wasn't really joyful.
"I wouldn't change anything. But I just.. I'm not a good mother! I'm destined to be a warrior, hunting and fighting for SpruceClan. Not taking care of kits! I'm just not naturally good at that kind of thing. And I.."

Shame welled up inside her; it bobbed like a boat.

Pinetuft looked at her, care in his gaze.
"You've done the best you can. You've been an excellent mother, you really have been."

She shook her head, her eyes glittering with tears.

"No, I haven't! It's okay to admit it. I talked to Aquiver, and she.. she said that kits weren't born with this.. disorder. Kits develop it because of... neglect. And it's my fault. I never cared for his emotional needs because of the other kits and now look what I've done to him!"

She burst into sobs; they shook her body. She didn't dare to look at Pinetuft.

He was silent for a while.

Pinetuft wrapped his tail around her.
"Shhh. It's okay. You didn't mean to. It's okay. Five kits is a lot to handle, and you're only young. It was a mistake. We can fix it." He whispered reassuring words to her.

It wasn't okay.
And they both knew it.

•◇•

Dawnclaw sat in camp, watching the wind blow. A few leaves scattered here and there, but the territory was mainly evergreen.

The dark green was usually comforting, but Dawnclaw didn't think anything could help her now.

It was too much.

She'd failed her kit. As a mother, she'd sworn to protect them all from harm. She'd only caused more.

She dug her claws into the ground. She couldn't stay here. She simply couldn't.

She got up, and began walking, her head ringing.

You're a useless mother.

She walked faster.

You may have ruined him forever.

She began to trot, the movement was bouncy and disruptive.

Maybe you should just die. Die, because of what you've done.

She broke into a run, her paws thumping loudly against the ground, her fur blowing being her.

Pathetic coward.

She shook her head. Thoughts like this weren't going to help her son. She was being overdramatic, there was hope for him.

Dawnclaw pricked her ears at the sound of talking.

"Really? Wow."

"I know. It's odd, isn't it? "

She recognised the scents of Minkfoot and Waspwhisker.

Her sister and her sister's mate.

Waspwhisker spotted her first.
"Dawnclaw! How are you?" He asked.

Minkfoot scowled at her sister.

"I'm.. I'm good." She mumbled.
"You?"

"Perfectly fine! Say, would you like to join us? Minkfoot and I were talking about how Duckflight seems to have her eyes on a new tom now that Lynxheart has retired to the elder's den. Apparently this tom had his eyes on her for a while, and the moment Lynxheart was out of the way, he crept in!"

Dawnclaw scowled. She was never one for gossip. That was more  Mallowheart's sort of thing.

"Well, who's the tom?" She couldn't help feeling a little bit curious.

"That's the thing. No one knows." Waspwhisker said.

Dawnclaw nodded.
"Well, thanks for the offer, but I best be on my way."

"Alright." Waspwhisker replied, politely.

•◇•

Dawnclaw awoke as the sky was lightening, the midnight blue melted into a pale, purple-gray.

Her yellow eyes blinked as processed what she was seeing.

"Deerpaw?" Her mew was hoarse, scratching at the corners of her throat.

The small shape in front of her shuffled his paws, his expression one of awkwardness.

Dawnclaw was very familiar with the mannerisms and personalities of her sister's kits. Fishpaw was materialistic, a superficial extrovert.  She almost reminded Dawnclaw of herself, though she hoped she didn't appear all that shallow. Deerpaw, on the other whisker, was awkward, quiet, preferring to know the reasoning than the actual task.

"Sorry to wake you, Dawnclaw." He mumbled, amber eyes fixed on his paws.

"It's no problem. What is it?" She asked, blinking slowly.

"I'm not sure, I was told to fetch you by Swiftear." The cream furred tabby answered.

Horror flushed through Dawnclaw, racing to her cheeks and through her bloodstream. She kept out an outraged hiss, and spat a furious
"What does he want now?!"

Deerpaw recoiled, anxiety clear on his face.

"Sorry. Don't blame the messenger." Dawnclaw muttered, ashamed of herself.

I really am a terrible mother.

I'm terrible with young cats in general.

Even though I am young.

She stood, and Deerpaw fled, walking quickly back to his den.

Poor little cat.

Dawnclaw began to walk out of her den, she barely looked back at her small, sleeping kits.

She sighed.

And continued.

The ground underfoot was mainly dirt, twig and grass, with a few scattered leaves. They crinkled, and she flinched at the sound.

She walked into the medicine den, it was now familiar.

She was greeted by the sight of Swiftear, but only his white patches were visible. If Dawnclaw had've been her usual state, she would've found it funny.

"Hello, Dawnclaw. I expect you know why you're here." He meowed.

His formal tone was enough.
His controlled emotions was enough.
His unexpressive face was enough.

Dawnclaw snapped.
Hurt and blame swelled inside her like a sick tide, overflowing and pouring out of her mouth. It cascaded down her chin, wetting her chest fur, and spreading out on the ground. Her words drowned those who it hurt; they lapped at her paws. She was untouchable.

"Swiftear, you vile piece of lemming dung! You're nothing, a mindless, cruel, creature of the Dark Forest. You deserve to go there, to rot and burn! Your body will decompose and your empty skeleton will lie there, disregarded by everyone because everyone hates you! And your disgusting, horrendous spirit will be tied to it, and you will never be free! You deserve to be filled with eternal pain, shrieking in agony, but silently, so you don't do any further bother to everyone around you. You're a pile of -"

"Dawnclaw, enough! You're in a state of hysteria!" Swiftear interrupted, more than quite alarmed. And indeed she was.

"Why did you do this to me?" She howled, digging her claws into the dirt.

"Dawnclaw, please." He begged.
"You'll wake the whole Clan."

"And they'll find out just how pathetic you are!" She moaned, swiping at the air.

"Dawnclaw."

The voice broke through the glass that had formed in her mind. It shattered, spreading over her thoughts, disrupting her dysfunctional thinking, cutting into her brain. Blood ran as she stared in disbelief at what she had done.

The voice wasn't painful. The voice was anything but.

Aquiver's voice was deep, and low-pitched. It was soulful, and reassuring.

"I'm sorry!" She burst out, sobs coming from within her chest. Swiftear didn't move, he was still shocked at what Dawnclaw had said.

Aquiver walked towards the crying cat, and gently reached out with her tail.

"I dislike physical contact. But don't worry, Dawnclaw. You're grieving. Grieving for your old life. Blame and anger are two of the stages."

_________________
A/N

What did you guys think? It was a real struggle to write this chapter, I just read two reAlly good books and I'm so jealous of their writing styles.

Fact Of The Chapter: Deerpaw has social anxiety disorder.