Welcome back to me not being able to write a single comma-less sentence __________________________________________ Sunspiderstar stared out of faer den at the setting sun. She already knew that no sleep would come to her this night. Leaders shouldn't rest, anyways, she told itself. They had to be on watch, yes, /that/ was certainly the reason why she could barely sleep anymore. /That/ was the reason why they were forced to rely on just a few brief naps throughout the day to keep xem on eir paws. Cider sighed, turning to look at Chicory. The ram was already breathing slowly, and it couldn't help but envy his simple, carefree life. Ze told herself that it was stupid to be jealous of a /sheep/. They were ungrateful to wonder what life would be like if ey weren't the leader of MossClan, if they were simply Sunspidersolace, the kind of cat that blended into the background. The self-pity they'd felt ever since ze'd become leader had only grown stronger over time, and Sunspiderstar had only grown to hate herself more for not being proud of the immense privilege and power fae'd been given. After all, xe'd spent so long wanting to be the kind of cat MossClan could depend on. It may not have happened in the way she'd expected, but faer dream had basically come true! So why wasn't it good enough, why couldn't they just suck it up and be /happy/? Cider tossed and turned in her extra-comfortable nest in her extra-large den, frustrated at the persistent feeling of wrongness when it was nearly impossible for other cats to name anything better than what it had now. With a resigned sigh, she got to her paws. Why lay down when ze wasn’t going to sleep? Chicory opened one ice-blue eye to watch as ze squeezed between the branches and out into the starlight. Xey hopped up onto the rock at the edges of camp, remembering the last time they'd sat up there. It had been with Dobsonflypaw. They'd spent all day staring at the clouds—or more accurately, staring into each other's eyes—as Cider smiled and giggled nervously, hoping she was saying all the right things. But everything was different now. The rock was cold and dark instead of warm and sunny, Sunspiderstar was alone, and it didn't matter what she said now, because xe'd already said all the wrong things. And instead of the soft, fluffy clouds that seemed close enough to reach out and touch, there were only stars. She had always found something relaxing about the stars, taking comfort in the knowledge that no matter what happened, they'd always be there. But not tonight. Tonight, they seemed impossibly far away, cold and distant pinpricks of light, watching and judging xyr every decision, every move. Everything had felt farther away recently. Delphine, gone to who knows where. Conversations, kept short and respectful instead of open and warm. Their friends, or at least the ones who still trusted its judgement, were also more distant, polite nods from afar replacing the friendly shoulder bumps and smiling greetings. And Dobsonflydaydream himself, always seeming to be wherever Sunspiderstar wasn't. Xyr eyes stung, that was the one that hurt the most. She'd tried her best to look for it, hanging around in all of the places they used to frequent, peeking into the warrior's den whenever ey had the chance. But what use was there? Even if they did somehow have a moment alone, what could they say without seeming like she was just playing with his feelings, wanting them back only after she was gone? Day probably thought that she was crazy now, anyways, it seemed everycat did after she let Leafhopperpaw into the Clan again. Cider shivered, the warm greenleaf breeze that ruffled her fur seeming as frigid as leaf-bare gusts. Everything was so much simpler when fae were younger. She remembered what it'd told Delphine back then, that ze wanted to be useful, helpful, passing down the knowledge they'd learned to the next generation of MossClanners. She'd been shaky, sure, but she'd meant every word. Back then, if ze made a mistake, she could simply apologize and learn from it. But now, they had Delphine to live up to. The cat that had raised all of them. The cat who had rebuilt the Clan from nothing. And so far, the only time she'd gone against the previous leader's decisions, she'd been hissed at, growled at, and called a useless fool. So much had changed that Cider could barely keep up, and it's not like she could talk about it without sounding like a whiny kit who was ungrateful for the honor they'd been given. She faerself had changed too, xe was on track to become a very different cat then they'd ever predicted, or even imagined, and they didn't know if that was good or bad. Sometimes, on sleepless nights like these, xe wished for the simplicity of being a kit to return. They imagined cheerful playfights and silly arguments where the only thing she ever had to decide was what game to play. Back then, xe'd never had to face the backlash of believing Continued in n+c
that a murderer could be redeemed. It had never had to hear the terrified cries of kits as they asked each other if the cat that /Sunspiderstar/ had let in was going to kill them. They'd never doubted if Fishmothkit was telling the truth when she'd told her that ze was a good cat back then. Cider took a deep breath of the night air, curling its claws into the stone. Before Delphine’s legacy hovered over her like a bird of prey, before the Clan’s eyes felt like claws raking across eir pelt, she'd been different. She’d been steady. Predictable. A cat who knew exactly what she wanted and didn't expect anything more. But... fae'd also felt uncomfortable all those moons ago, hadn't they? It laid down on the rock, rolling over onto eir back as she remembered the very first time it had sat on their rock, before Dobsonflydaydream, before the late-night worries, before being a leader, and even before they were an apprentice. Sunspiderstar had first recognized they felt uncomfortable with their sense of self as a kit on this very rock, but it was extra apparent once it had become an apprentice, and that's when the feeling had truly worsened. She'd wanted a breath of fresh air then, a break from the confinements of the pronouns xe'd been born with. So, she'd started changing them up, it had felt refreshing. New and exciting. Now, it was the opposite, though. Instead of wishing for a bit of change in faer otherwise simple existence, xe now wished for anything simple in its chaotic life. Now that they really thought about it, that had been one of the things under the surface, contributing to their stress, hadn't it? Xyr whole world had been shifting like loose sand under her paws, and suddenly even her own identity felt like one more thing to worry about. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy their new pronouns, it was the lack of anything stable to anchor herself to. Cider exhaled slowly, letting the breath leave her in a long, trembling sigh. The stars above her blurred, then sharpened again as she blinked. Its claws stayed hooked in the stone, as if the rock itself were the only thing keeping her from slipping away entirely. Xe needed to learn to be the leader she could become. She didn’t want to feel this anxious forever, but it also didn’t want to lose zirself along the way. Ey felt a stab of guilt as she thought about how it’d lost eir temper with Earwigblaze, snapped at Metalmarkmajesty. She hadn’t meant to. They hadn’t wanted to. But the fear, the exhaustion, and the shame had all tangled together until her voice came out too loud, too sharp, too unlike xem. And then, they had an idea. It didn’t come all at once, but hovered in the back of eir mind, flitting away every time she tried to grab it. Sunspiderstar couldn’t change the past, but maybe she could carry a piece of it with her. A piece of itself as they used to be, as a kit. The pronouns that they’d used when life was simpler, when he was steady, predictable, sure of who he was even if he didn’t know much else. Sunspiderstar looked back up at the stars that had suddenly seemed warmer, closer. Xe imagined lines where the stars connected, tracing them with eir paw. Maybe eir old pronouns could be that something to hold onto, something that didn’t shift every time she took a breath. /He/ was still too restrictive all on its own, though. And the old Sunspider needed a piece of the new one, the one with potential, the one who wasn’t set in stone yet. She, her… those still felt right. Now both of them together, she, her, he, him. It turned the words over in her mind, a mix of old and new, roots and growth, compassion and assertiveness. They felt right. Not just better, but truly /hers/. She didn’t have to choose between who he had been and who she might become. She could be both. He /was/ both. And right then, something clicked into place, and the future seemed a bit less scary. Now, she just had to find a way to prove himself worthy again. Both to her clan… and his friends. Sunspiderstar needed to find Dobsonflydaydream, she couldn’t put it off any longer. Even if it hurt, even if it wasn’t going to forgive him. Maybe it was too late, but right now, the stone rough against her back, Cider vowed to the stars she’d at least try to explain herself. And if it didn’t work out, as much as it hurt him… he’d find a way to move on. Somehow. With a yawn, Sunspiderstar hopped down from the rock. She padded past the quiet dens and curled up against Chicory, gently picking up the rose Dobsonflydaydream had given him. Crumpled and dried out and fragile as it was, it was still here. If the rose was still here, then the old Sunspider could be too. After a while, her eyes slowly drifted shut, sinking into sleep to the lullaby of the wind rustling the leaves and the soft breathing of the ram beside him. It wasn’t a perfect rest. But it was the best she’d had in a long time. ___________________________________ Sunspiderstar now uses she/he pronouns and identifies as bigender.
