// not participating in the contest part of the event but man do i love oneshots
Being close to others was a difficult thing for a person living in their head. He overthought everything and had spent so long inside his brain thinking up fake scenarios and outlandish theories as to why things were the way they were that he'd accidentally built up walls. He thought that, at some point, he must have become too comfortable dwelling in his mind trying to make sense of everything that he was uncomfortable in the real world. As a kit it didn't make sense, either. It was maybe even more frustrating back then, trying to understand that the grey area between good and bad was unrecognizable. Back then he didn't really have anything to live for, so it didn't matter much. His biggest concern as a kid was catching roaches for Waspwing. Now he had a family to protect, and was failing to do so.
He remembered his first day out in front of others. He talked to a cat named Red. Odd cat, Red was. Rather quiet. A bit like present day Wolfgang. She seemed a bit sassy, once she did speak. Caledon had asked if Wolfie was "pissing off Ms. Red". He then proceeded to say, "She's the BloodClan guard, that means she is the best fighter in the clan." Perhaps that was a truth only relating to Red. Caledon was a smart man, usually not incorrect about anything. However, Wolfgang was nowhere near the title of "best fighter in the clan". If he were, Stagpaw and Deerblood wouldn't be breathing. They were, though, and his friends and family were suffering.
He had pity for that little boy, Mittens. He had no parents. No family. Nobody to look after and nobody to look after him. Or maybe that wasn't the case, maybe the boy had some really close friends watching his back. He hoped so. Being lonely was an awful awful feeling. It is possible to feel alone even in the presence of others. Just as Wolfgang had, when he put up his walls. He never wanted anybody to feel alone and helpless. Wolfie had felt that way when he lost his eye. He was weak and powerless to stop the ThunderClanner from striking his eye socket at the worst possible angle. He didn't even fight back after that. Or before that. A weak, pathetic kid who deserved to lose an eye. But damn, the forest cat had some insight. He provided an entirely knew viewpoint. Wolfgang hadn't anybody else to talk to about his conflicts, so he consoled the only cat with an outside point of view- his attacker. He insisted Wolfie was evil. He said, "You are evil! You deserve anything bad that happens to you!" Was that still true? Perhaps Wolfgang really was evil. He had killed, but on accident. He had captured and hurt innocents because of a personal vendetta against cats who hurt his family. Maybe he did deserve it, and that was why his family go hurt. Maybe he was a curse.
You see how much his thoughts begin to derail? He was just talking about Mittens, and then concluded with how he thought of himself as a curse. His head wasn't quite right.
Anyway. He pitied Mittens. He hoped the lad kept himself safe.
Wolfgang stared at the ground. The water was hardly illuminated enough to see himself, as opposed to the unrealistic portrait of puddles that stories painted. He looked at the murky reflection of himself. Absolutely disgusting. The entire left side was the curse. Blind to the harsh realities of the world and therefore suffered the most damage. The right eye watched and saw everything. It saw the true nature of the darkest parts of creation. And thus, it remained scarless. He really was just one big ol' stupid ass metaphor, wasn't he?
He found himself back where Ellie had been murdered. Fur still remained. The fur that had been found on her body was dark, but belonged to no clan. It was cat fur with no traces. A cold trail. A mystery that would remain forever unsolved. Wolfgang had been hunting when it happened. He bit through a mouse's throat while some disgusting fucking trash loner bit his little sister's throat. Wolfgang was so fucking useless. Why was he even here? He was literally just a waste of space. He was taking a walk when Canary was dragged from his home and tortured. If he hadn't been such a dumbass and had just walked with an actual purpose, perhaps he would have been able to stop the act. He failed to save the kit from the burning building. His stupid ass dropped the little fucker and it died. He was moments too late to halt the capture and torture of his mother, the most important cat in the world to him. He failed to negotiate the release of his little brother and by the time Canary was returned he was missing a claw.
A truly worthless being. He made his purpose in life his family and when it came to being a protector he failed. What did he have left? His loveable personality? No, he had jack shit. He was a shitty person and tried to make up for it by protecting the only cats that mattered to him but that didn't work so now he had nothing to redeem himself.
His anger quickly faded.
What was he even doing?
Why did he stay here?
For his family, yes, but...
Was it possible he didn't know who he was because he never lived for himself? BloodClan was a complicated clan to figure out. It was a wild mix of brats, rats, and good cats. Do you like that rhyme? Well, he didn't. It was true. There were plenty of cats who were truly pathetic, there were quite a few brutes in the clan who had nothing much to their personality than "bad dude", and then there were a few good cats who, while perhaps not morally "good", seemed to have something going on in their head. They knew who they were and what they wanted and could justify their actions with their own solid beliefs. Where did Wolfgang fall? Under the truly pathetic ones. He didn't know who he was, or what he wanted, or why he hurt others, or what his beliefs were. When things became bad he practically threw a tantrum inside his head. The only reason he didn't throw a real one when Waspwing had been captured was because Canary had been there and he wanted to be stable enough to support the little one, in hopes that he would grow up to be better than Wolfgang.
He wasn't sure where he was going with this.
Nothing he ever thought really made sense any more.
He was trapped inside a mind that made no sense and, honestly, just sounded completely stupid when he heard himself think. He was quite a pathetic cat. Wolfgang always felt frustrated and unhappy and unsatisfied with who he was. Maybe because he was nobody. He didn't have a personality of his own- whatever cat lived in there before had been shattered into two pieces, and those two pieces were unable to stop themselves from shattering apart without the other piece to provide stability.
/// ehhhh i;m not really happy with this because it doesn't make much sense but it's like midnight and i had muse so uhhhhhhhhhh yyea
this is kinda the beginning of wolfgang wanting to leave but he wont actually do that for a long long time
words; 1214