"you used to be nice" - cotn 236 & 237

[SkyWishes21]

return to 236 or 237

✦➤ Stag, Scene One >> A Disastrous Early Lesson

There were quite a few things Stag would have liked more than getting a new apprentice. A bigger budget for higher quality clay, for one, or perhaps a new travelling cart that didn’t threaten to fall to pieces. Surely the guild could use more security for their most experienced sculptor’s fragile pieces?

Besides, she’d long since had an apprentice or three, all of whom had gone on to become masters of the craft themselves. Only one had stayed with the guild, Dusty, and he was younger and more patient than Stag was with beginners these days. By all rights, he should’ve been the one to take Willow under his wing. His instruction was just as good as, if not better than hers. Then she’d be able to focus on mastering advanced techniques and Willow would get the education she deserved.

But no. Instead of all that, the guild’s leader Sterling bounded up to her one day with a big doofy grin on his face that always spelled trouble. Who let him be in charge again? Honestly, if things continued on the way they were, Stag might very well challenge him for his spot.

“Morning, Stag! I’ve got a surprise for you,” the silver tom said, his eyes sparkling with glee as he pranced around her.

“Is it the kind of surprise I’m going to like, or the kind I’ll want to claw your ears off for?” Stag deadpanned, keeping one eye on him while she inventoried her supplies.

“You’ll love it, I promise.” He nudged her like she was in on something. Stag just scowled at him. “C’mon, don’t give me that. Here, let me introduce her!”

‘Her?’ Stag whipped around, curly fur swooshing in the wind. Why was there someone new, and how is that a surprise she’ll like? Honestly, the nerve of that tom! He should know by now she liked to be in the know about comings and goings from the guild.

From where she’d been waiting behind Stag’s cart stepped an incredibly fluffy silver cat, big blue eyes glittering in the light. Her paws pranced as she stepped out, looking altogether too excited to be here. Oh stars. Was this a fan?

“This is your new apprentice, Willow!” Stirling said, gesturing to Willow with his tail. “Willow, this is Stag. She's our best sculptor and a brilliant mentor, from what I hear.”

Wait. No. Stag swallowed back her alarm and leaned in to murmur in Stirling's ear, “Didn't I tell you I wasn't taking more apprentices? Why not send her to Dusty? He's just as good!”

Stirling gave her an apologetic smile. “Look, her family's donating a lot of money to the guild and specifically asked for you. I'm sure you'll do fine.”

Ah. Money. That made more sense. Stag just nodded, now resigned to her fate. She turned to Willow with a studious frown.

“All right, kid. Welcome to being my apprentice, I guess! I wasn't prepared at all, so…” she shrugged. “I guess I can start by showing you around?”

Willow bounced excitedly in place, barely restraining herself from bowling Stag over when she darted forwards to touch noses. “Okay! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I'll be the best student ever!”

“We'll see about that,” Stag muttered.

—
The first week, Stag mostly kept Willow busy running errands, cleaning messes, and generally familiarizing herself with the tools and the trade. Most apprentices would complain about the menial labor, about not getting to sculpt just yet, but not Willow. She just seemed happy to be there, doing every chore with a smile.

Good. At least there was a faint silver lining in this mess. Stag had planned out her week to practice her own techniques and prep for the next exhibition. Instead , she was desperately pouring over her old lesson plans to try and piece together an updated lesson plan that accounted for Willow's... unique abilities.

Look, it wasn't like Stag had a plan for reteaching the basics! Willow might've had creative vision, but her techniques were kitten level at best.

"Willow?" Stag padded over to where Willow was busy cleaning Stag's detailing brushes, a determined look on her face as she clumsily tried to get all the clay from between the bristles. Sigh. At least she was trying. "It's about time for your first lesson."

Willow blinked, startled for a moment before her face split into a grin. "Really? That's great! Are we going to start with traditional realism or more neo-leafist modern?"

"We're going to start with how to handle clay," Stag said flatly. "We'll see where it goes from there."

An unsurprising flash of disappointment crossed Willow's face, but she pulled herself together impressively fast. "Do you want me to finish with your brushes first?"

Stag held back from pulling a face. She'll have to spend some time fixing her brushes; poor things looked terribly out of shape now. "No, no, I'll take care of them while you practice."

“Okay!”

The teaching area Stag had set up was separated from her own workstation, just to keep the mess away. Better to have simple tools be used and well loved by a novice than to have them wreck the good ones Stag needed for her exhibition pieces.

She led Willow to a bucket of clay and a piece of polished wood presently existing as a table, the perfect workstation. “All right. This is where you’ll be working for the time being. It’ll be just you and the clay right now. Once you’re comfortable with it, I’ll start introducing you to detailing tools. Are you ready?”

Willow looked down at the clay with a slight frown. “...I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what kind of clay this is.”

No. Seriously? Stag swallowed back her irritation - she’d watched Willow use it to practice! “Is river-bed clay not what you usually use?”

“Aha… no. My mom gets me a reddish-brown one, I think it’s terracotta?” She ducked her head in embarrassment. “But I really want to learn how to sculpt like you do!”

Okay! The different materials might explain why Willow seemed to struggle so much. Still, who thought it was a good idea to apprentice her here instead of with terracotta sculptors? Whatever. Just the best you can, Stag, it’ll be okay…

“All right. So the first thing you’ll want to do is gently scoop out a base chunk of clay, like so.” Stag demonstrated this, placing a large glob of clay on her workstation. “Don’t worry if you get messy, that’s part of the process.”

With intense focus, Willow watched Stag scoop out the clay. Then copying Stag’s motions exactly, she dipped her paw in, grabbed an amount of clay, and promptly flung it into Stag’s chest fur.

Stag stared down at it for a long, long moment. On one paw, things happened. On the other, what on earth? There wasn’t a lot she could save without getting her long, curly fur stuck in the clay. …hm. That might make an interesting sculpture later, when she has free time.

No, focus! She took a deep breath, put on a patient smile, and peeled off as much clay as she could. “Okay. Next time, you need to be slower with your movements so you don’t waste the clay.”

Willow cringed only slightly before nodding. A slight smile crossed her face. “I guess it wanted to be a bird the way it flew from my paw!” she joked.

Stag did not laugh. The waste of resources hurt her heart too much. She just turned back to the clay and watched Willow try grabbing clay again. This time it didn’t fling from her paws so much as drop in the three pawlengths between the clay bucket and the workstation.

“I guess it was a grave situation!” Willow said, giggling at her own joke and not caring about the fallen clay. Or perhaps she did considering she dropped down to scoop up as much as she could. There was still plenty left on the ground though…

Stag let out a reluctant chuckle. “Ah, yes. Gravity.”

The lesson continued in this manner for quite some time. Willow was certainly enthusiastic, perhaps too much so considering every motion seemed to fling clay every which way. Stag kept pushing her to slow down, be more intentional, but no no avail.

At last, Stag could stand no more.

This was awful. It was a total disaster and a waste of precious resources, even if it was the lowest grade. There was clay on her fur and in the grass and on her canvas. It was all Stag could do not to break down into tears.

So she broke down into laughter instead. High, bubbling things that had her laying on her back while she stared up at the sky. Willow looked at her with wide eyes before joining her in a fit of mad giggles. What a strange little cat, but goodness knows how she managed to keep smiling.

...maybe they’ll start a little simpler.

[lacke]

✦➤ willow, scene one >> the beginning of a great adventure!

willow had barely slept. not for a lack of comfort - her family had spared no expense in outfitting her travel nest with plush bedding and an imported cedar wood box of tools - but because her mind simply wouldnt rest. everytime she closed her eyes, she saw it; her paws shaping clay with purpose, her mentor watching (proudly, she hoped), the moment her work was displayed among the guilds gallery. the real one. not the shelf her mother dusted weekly. she padded a neat circle around the small inn room, tail flicking excitedly.

"deep breaths," she reminded herself aloud, voice squeaky with anticipation. "you're going to meet stag. the stag. sculptor of the windblown monument. designer of the clayglass mosaic in the central plaza." she spun on her paws, and flopped on her back dramatically. "and shes going to hate me."

willow stared at the ceiling for a beat before rolling upright and shaking her pelt out with a soft laugh. no, no - she couldnt afford to think like that. even if stag didnt like her right away, willow would win her over! she was determined. earnest. willing to try absolutely anything. what sculptor didnt want a student like that? she padded over to her travel bag, carefully untying the latch with her teeth and nosing open the flap. inside, she'd packed her own self made gift; a tiny sculpture of two cats perched on the same chunk of driftwood - one tall, curly furred, and elegant (stag, obviously), the other a puffy little fluffball bouncing on her toes. it was a little rough around the edges, and the glaze had run a bit, but the meaning was clear: she was excited to learn, to be shaped like clay herself.

a sudden flutter of nerves overtook her. what if it was too much? too childish? maybe she should have brought a formal letter of intent instead, or a list of her previous sculpting experiments. she did have that one cup that almost looked symmetrical...

"no!" she mewed aloud, stomping one paw. "this is who you are. you love this. you get messy and weird and you talk too much and you love clay so much it hurts. stag will see that eventually." willow looked back down at the gift. then, very gently, she tucked it away and whispered, "even if she doesnt like me, im still going to love learning from her."

outside, the sun had just begun to rise, casting golden light through the window and painting her silver fur in soft, hopeful hues. tomorrow would be the start of everything.

and willow? willow was ready.

--

willow couldnt stop smiling, even as she tried (unsuccessfully) to scrub dried clay from between her toes. the wash basin had seen better days, and so had her fur. bits of grayish clay clung to the fluff on her chest, in her ear tufts, under her chin, as if the sculpting studio had decided she would make a better statue than a student.

"okay, maybe it wasnt perfect," she murmured to herself, "but it was a start."

she wriggled her toes beneath the water, watching the cloudy ripples spiral outward. honestly, she had never worked with river-bed clay before. it was softer than what she was used to - stretchier. it almost seemed alive in her paws, like it had its own opinions about what it wanted to be.

and stag... well. stag was everything willow had heard and more. sharp as a chisels edge, with a stare that could turn a boulder to dust. but she had shown willow how to hold the clay. she had taken the time. even after willow flung a glob right at her chest. willow winced at the memory... and then giggle. stag hadnt even yelled! and then when willow made that 'grave situation' joke? she swore she saw a twitch at the corner of her mouth. maybe.

she dried her paws on a folded towel and padded across the floor, climbing onto the cushioned window seat with a happy sigh. her sketchbook lay open on the sill beside her, pages fluttering in the breeze. she picked up a charcoal stub in her teeth and carefully drew a quick sketch of the sculpture idea she had gotten mid-lesson: a cat tangled in a storm of clay ribbons, wild and half formed, but reaching toward the sky.

was it metaphorical? yes. was it cheesy? also yes. did she love it? absolutely.

she paused halfway through the scribble a note in the margin: ask stag if shes ever sculpted movement like this before??? maybe wind???

then underneath it, in much messier pawwriting: shes kinda scary but also super cool. also her fur is SO curly. how does it even do that???

willow closed her sketchbook and pressed it against her chest with a warm little sigh. she didnt know if stag liked her. maybe she never would. but that didnt matter, not really. she was learning. she was in the guild. she was sculpting with her hero.

and if today, this week even, was a mess? that was fine. clay was messy too, until you shaped it into something beautiful.

[SkyWishes21]

✦➤ Stag, Scene Two >> A Traveling Expedition Fail

Thanks to that no-good, rotten, son of a rat and a flea Stirling embezzling guild funds and taking off, Stag was now the leader of the guild. Everyone was looking to her for guidance on how to climb out of this wretched mess of a hole Stirling had left for them, and fast. Unfortunately, this meant she had no time for her apprentice.

Truth be told, Stag had half a mind to send Willow back to her parents and be done with it. She was a pest of Stirling's doing and life would be so much easier if she was gone.

And yet, Stag didn't have the heart. Maybe she tried pawning off her constant annoyance to Dusty, who took quite a liking to Willow, once or twice, but she couldn't help it. Part of her just really wanted to see if this disaster of an artist could ever improve. And, loathe as she was to admit it, Willow had grown on her too.

Unfortunately, now was not the time for her to be pestering Stag about lessons seeing as Stag was in the middle of planning out an exhibition and sale to hopefully recoup some of the lost funds.

Willow bounded up to where Stag was sitting and pouring over "Hey, whatcha working on? Can I help?"

Oh no, not this again. Stag shook her head, willing herself not to bite. "I'm trying to plan an exhibition to recoup all the money Sterling stole. It's taking a lot of concentration, so please go bother someone else."

Contrary to what was asked of her, Willow plopped down beside Stag and peeked over her shoulder. "I can help! My parents sell stuff for way more than its worth all the time."

Ah. So scammers. Or... you know, rich house cats. Either or. Still, might as well humor her. "Go on."

"Well, first of all you want to make sure people want to come," Willow said, as if that were not the simplest concept in the world.

"Like a spectacle! I'm thinking glitter, big drums, just making it a party."

"Uh-huh. If we had money to burn, maybe, but we don't have the budget." Stag stared down at the budget sheet, her stomach turning.

This didn't seem to phase Willow. "I'm sure we could make it work! You can always dress up something cheap to make it nicer."

Which was more effort than they could afford right now. "Maybe. Got any other big ideas?"

"Of course!" Yay. Willow beamed, evidently pleased she was helping. "Mark up the statues, make it a premium. People will pay big money if they think they're getting something special!"

"That's... not half bad an idea," Stag said thoughtfully. "We were planning on doing an auction and putting everything on sale, but I'll see if there's anything we can mark up. ...thanks kid."

Willow gave Stag an affectionate nudge, purring all the while. "Of course! I'm just happy to help."

---

"What did you do?"

Stag had spent almost the whole night painstakingly preparing the exhibition. She wasn't alone, of course - some of the less socially inclined guild members had helped out. Still, the sun had started peeking over the horizon when she'd finally collapsed beneath her cart and fallen asleep.

They'd used some of Willow's suggestions. Kid wasn't half bad, truth be told, just... enthusiastic and a bit naive. But Stag had put in the effort to liven up the place a little - just a few flowers, a couple repurposed old decorations, things like that. She'd also gone through all the prices and meticulously marked up some she thought she could get away with.

Evidently Willow had not realized that Stag had listened to her and, rather than sleeping like everyone else who wasn't actively helping, disappeared in the wee hours of the morning to do what she thought she was right.

Along with the carefully picked flowers, there was now a massive dusting of pollen that made potential purchasers sneeze with every step. Stag watched as yet another cat bolted from the exhibition just to stop sneezing.

And then the prices... Stag had spent hours agonizing over those. Willow had decided to add a zero at the end of each one, making prices too high for even the richer clientele to want to pay.

To top it all off, Willow had procured some sort of wood-based makeshift drum and was enthusiastically playing it loud enough to hurt everyone's ears. Stag had to gently run into her to get her to stop.

Willow looked up with a gasp, blue eyes wide. "What was that for?"

"This!" Stag waved her tail wildly at the exhibition, which presently boasted a whole two patrons that hadn't yet been driven away. "You ruined the exhibition!"

First Willow stared at stag, hurt on her face. Then she scowled and folded her ears back, smacking the drum extra hard for emphasis. "You didn't listen to my suggestions!"

"Yes I did!" Stag snapped back. "And if you'd been paying attention, you would've seen how I tweaked them to fit the exhibition, not just throw pollen everywhere!"

Willow froze. "...what?"

"They weren't half bad ideas, but the way you've executed them ruined it! No one's staying long enough to buy, and those who want to can't afford it without finding one of us and doing a long, drawn out negotiation." Stag grit her teeth, willing herself not to throw her useless apprentice down the hill.

"Oh. I- I thought you'd ignored me- I-" Willow stumbled over her words. Her face betrayed something of shame and pain. "I just wanted to help. Let me clean it up, please."

"You'll only make it worse. Just go, think about what you've done." More venom than she'd intended spat from Stag's lips as she flicked her tail in the opposite direction.

For a moment, Willow looked as if she wanted to say something. Then she turned tail and fled.

Despite everyone's best efforts, the exhibition was mostly a failure. There simply was too much bad press attached to even dream of turning it around. The guild was stuck hauling their statues to the next location that would take them, all the while still in the hole. Willow stuck around Dusty the next little while, though she kept trying to appease Stag.

In the end, Stag reluctantly forgave her.

[lacke]

✦➤ willow, scene two >> shaping the ruins

willow sat alone behind the empty guild tent, her tail curled around her paws, head bowed over a patch of trampled grass. from somewhere uphill came the sound of grating wood and muffled voices - guild members packing up statues, displays, and what remained of the exhibition. she couldnt bring herself to look. her drum lay near by, tipped on its side like it had fainted from embarrassment. pollen dusted her fur and clung to her whiskers, bright and golden like it was mocking her. she had messed up. bad.

willow let out a slow breath, her ears still pinned from where stag had yelled at her. no - snapped at her. and she deserved it. she really did. willow thought she was helping. she wanted to help. but instead she had... what, made everything harder? made stag look foolish infront of the guild? the worst part wasnt even the exhibition. it was that stag had listened. she had actually listened, used some of willows ideas, even thanked her. and willow hadnt seen it. hadnt believed it. she had just assumed she had been brushed off again, like everyone else used to do back home. smiling politely and then tossing her ideas in the waste bin the moment she turned around.

she frowned. that wasnt fair to stag.

with trembling paws she pulled her sketchbook from her satchel and flipped past the pages filled with hopeful doodles and half baked ideas. she stopped at one from the night before: a drawing of the exhibition space, cluttered with lights and streamers and a huge sign that read: art should be fun!

her paw hesitated, then slowly started to scribble over the page.

not angrily. not out of spite. just... quiet lines. a few crosshatches. a wash of shadow. she softened the lights, redrew the sign smaller. scaled it back. she left the flowers, but put them in neat little clay pots. the whole scene became quieter. softer. still hers, but not so loud. she stared at the page for a long moment.

"i really did want to help," she whispered. the wind tugged at her fur, carrying the scent of dust and old pollen. her heart ached. she wasnt ready to face stag again, not yet. but tomorrow, maybe, she would go back and show her this sketch. not to fix everything. just to prove that she was learning.

because sculpting, she was starting to understand, wasnt just shaping clay. it was shaping yourself, too.

--

it took her the better part of the evening to stop shaking.

she had paced for what felt like hours behind the tents, trying to decide whether to go back up the hill. whether stag would even want to see her again. whether she should just pack her things, go home, and let the guild breathe a little easier. but the idea made her stomach turn. no. she wanted to be here. she wanted to earn being here. by the time she found stag again, the sun had set and most of the exhibition was packed away. the guilds traveling cart groaned beneath the weight of unsold statues. stag sat beside it, her shoulders hunched, eyes unreadable in the firelight.

willow cleared her throat softly. stag didnt look up. so she stepped closer, setting her sketchbook down between them without a word. the page she had drawn earlier was flipped open, her revised version of the exhibition. calmer. simpler. more thoughtful.

"i redrew it," willow said quietly. "not because i think it fixes anything. just... i wanted to show you that i heard you this time." stag glanced down at the sketch, brow furrowed. her silence stretched long enough that willow felt her courage start to fray. "im sorry," she said, the words catching in her throat. "i didnt trust you were listening. i thought i had to prove myself louder. but i just made a mess. you gave me a chance and i... i ruined it."

another long pause. then:

"you didnt ruin it," stag muttered, still staring at the page. "sterling did that. you just... made it worse."

willow flinched. but it was honest. and it wasnt a rejection.

"ill make it up to you." she said, "even if it takes moons. even if you never want to teach me again. ill find a way to help the guild. i mean it."

stag finally looked at her, eyes tired but not cruel. "youre not going home, if thats what youre asking. dusty would riot." willow blinked. "and... youre not useless. youve got instincts. you just dont know when to you them." stag added, voice low.

"im trying to learn."

"good," stag said. then, with a tired grunt, she nudged the sketchbook a bit closer to herself. "next time, come to me before you try fixing things. we will plan it together."

willows heart fluttered. she nodded quickly. "okay. i can do that. i will do that."

for awhile, they sat in quiet, the firelight flickering between them. the road ahead was still uncertain, but something small had shifted. something delicate and real.

maybe, just maybe, willow hadnt completely lost her place here.

[SkyWishes21]

✦➤ Stag, Scene Three >> A "Solo" Career

Despite all her best efforts, Stag couldn't keep the guild together. It wasn't anyone's fault in particular, but after Sterling's ignoble departure and every money-making failure since it only made sense.

Fine. It's not like Stag wouldn't miss working together with a whole host of people, but perhaps it was time for her to fly solo for a while. No responsibilities to anyone, just her own career and her own finances to worry about.

...except Willow.

Stag no longer claimed Willow as an apprentice, but the young molly hung around anyways. It wasn't something they'd remotely talked about. When Stag left, dragging her raggedy cart behind her, Willow had padded along. It'd been a bit before Stag had realized someone was there, but when she realized who it was she just shrugged and let it be.

They didn't have lessons, not formal ones anyway. There were too many logistics for Stag to sort out about her new life to have the bandwidth to try and sculpt Willow's atrocious artistic ability into something beautiful. Occasionally, Willow would be practicing off to the side and Stag would breeze by with a helpful tip or two, but nothing more. Not right now.

Look, Stag felt bad for the kid, all right? It wasn't her fault Sterling dragged her into this mess. Plus, she wasn't going to pry but she was pretty sure Willow had a darn good reason for not being able to go back to her parents. It was the least Stag could do to let her stick around for a while, keep her fed and sheltered and whatnot.

That being said, it was hard for her to look Willow in the eye. None of this was Willow's fault, but she was emblematic of everything that had caused Stag's perfectly wonderful life to fall apart. Sterling had forced Stag to take her, to try and sculpt talent from nothing.

And it's not like Willow didn't have good ideas or anything, every cat can make art, but it's frankly obvious that she just doesn't have the talent for sculpting. To this day, Stag wished she'd gone with Dusty. He would've been able to help Willow shine and find her place.

For now, that place seemed to be more of Stag's assistant. They barely talked, but Willow cleaned Stag's tools without complaint. When the cart broke down again, Willow was there to help hold it up while Stag fixed it. It was almost nice.

Almost.

Stag couldn't help the resentment that boiled within her. She tried to choke it down, keep it away from Willow (it wasn't her fault!), but every once in a while a snappish word slipped out despite her best efforts.

But it bubbled. Deep within Stag's chest, it roiled and crashed like a wave on a dark and stormy night.

And one day, it was unleashed.

Stag'd been working on a particularly large, experimental sculpture when Willow tentatively put a paw on the other side and began adding her own little touches.

"What are you doing?" Stag snapped, claws buried deeper in the clay than she meant.

"Helping?" Willow said, her voice rather small. "I thought you could use a paw..."

"I didn't ask for this." Thick bitterness spilled from Stag's mouth, an intangible ooze that felt like it was crawling its way up from some unknown space deep inside her gut.

Willow blanched, stepping back as though she too could see the bitter ooze. "I-I'm sorry. I'll go... clean your tools."

"No." The ooze grew hard, darkening Stag's tone. "I didn't ask for you. You weren't supposed to be part of my life."

Apparently, this was the long-awaited reckoning. Despite herself, Stag could feel every piece of rage of the past several moons crawling out of her skin.

In this moment, Willow seemed the smallest she'd ever been. "What? I- I know you weren't looking for an apprentice back then, but I thought you liked me..."

"Did I? Or did I just tolerate you every step of the way?" Cruelty tasted sour on her tongue and part of Stag wanted desperately to claw it back. She didn't, even when it looked like Willow was about to cry. "I was done with being a mentor. You were forced on me and I had no choice but to live with you and your- your antics."

Willow gasped, eyes hollow as she stared up at Stag. "Then why am I still here? Why didn't you send me away?"

"I felt bad for you," Stag scoffed. "You have no skill, no coordination, and apparently no family who wants you. I let you stay because you're so pathetic it'd be cruel just to leave you alone."

...she had liked Willow, though.

There was a sniff, a choked sob, and then faced with Stag's onslaught of cruelty Willow could only choke out something soft.

"You used to be nice..."

[lacke]

✦➤ willow, scene two >> what was left unspoken

it had been moons since the guild fell apart, and yet, every morning, willow still woke up and checked the supplies in stags cart before the other molly woke up. they never talked about it - not the collapse, not the decision to leave, not the way willow had simply followed stag like she might disappear if left alone. no request had been made. no welcome had been given.

but... stag hadnt sent her away either. that was something... right?

their days had settled into a rhythm, quiet and a little bit frayed at the edges. stag would sculpt. willow would sweep, repair tools, boil water. sometime she would knead clay with her paws just to remember how it felt. and every now and then, if the mood was light, stag might grumble an unsolicited tip over her shoulder. willow treasured those like gold.

she didnt know what she was, not anymore. not an apprentice, stag didnt call her that. not a guild member, there was no guild. but maybe she could still be... helpful.

so when stag started shaping the tall structure that afternoon, something beautiful and strange, rising like a blooming tower of movement, willow thought maybe, just maybe, she could add a tiny gesture of support. a smoothing like. a gentle press.

just a paws touch. barely anything.

but before shecould even whisper her idea aloud, stags voice struck like thunder.

"what are you doing?"

willow froze, her paw still pressed to the clay. "helping?" she offered, soft. "i thought you could use a paw..."

"i didnt ask for this."

the words landed sharp. not the kind of sharp you could ignore, no. this was the kind that sliced something inside.

willow slowly stepped back, chest tightening. "i-im sorry. ill go... clean your tools."

"no." willow halted. "i didnt ask for you. you werent supposed to be part of my life."

willow flinched. she wanted to say 'i know', she wanted to expalin that she hadnt meant to follow her like a stray kit in the rain. she wanted to say she was sorry for every clay mess, every bad idea, every moment stag hadnt smiled. but her voice was locked in her throat. and then came the rest. unfiltered, bitter. a truth she had never been sure of and now couldnt unhear.

she hadnt expected kindness exactly... but not this. not the ways stags voice turned hard and hollow, like willows presence was something rotting she couldnt throw away fast enough. she felt herself shrink under it. her paws didnt feel like they touched the ground anymore. her chest tightened.

still, she tried, because maybe she had misunderstood. maybe stag didnt mean it like that.

"what? i-" her voice wavered, and she had to swallow hard before it came out again. "i know you werent looking for an apprentice back then, but... i thought you liked me..."

she meant it. she meant all of it. the quiet tips. the rare, unguarded chuckles. the way stag had let her stay even after the guild collapsed. that had meant something... right?

but stags answer wasnt comfort. it wasnt even uncertainty. it was brutal. "did i? or did i just tolerate you every step of the way?" there was no hestitation. "i was done with being a mentor. you were forced on me, and i had no choice but to live with you and your - your antics."

her throat closed up. stag didnt stop. she didnt stop.

every word was like clay flung at high speed, heavy, unrelenting, impossible to dodge.

willows voice came out like a whisper. "then why am i still here? why didnt you send me away?"

she wanted there to be a reason. any reason. some trace of care. but instead... stag scoffed.

"i felt bad for you. you have no skill, no coordination, and apparently no family who wants you. i let you stay because youre so pathetic itd be cruel just to leave you alone."

it was like a hole had opened beneath her, and she just kept falling. her legs wobbled, her breath stuttered, and she could feel tears clinging stubbornly to her lashes.

so that was it. not talent. not kindness. not even hope.

just pity.

she swallowed the sob building in her chest, but one still slipped out - quiet and jagged. her voice, when it came, was barely audible. but it held the weight of everything she hadnt said in moons.

"you used to be nice..."

[SkyWishes21]

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sketch and editing by SkyWishes21, lines and color by lacke