Sunfreckle had resigned herself to staying quiet again. She had been proud when Summerclan gained their freedom again, even though the act of which left her exhausted and aching for days to come, and she was excited about the ceremonies, the new start, but the exile of Doefreckle had set off the familiar guilt inside of her again. She had moved to the back of the crowd, worried about what might happen to her because she still felt like she caused the whole thing. Sunfreckle had been the one to not report Aspenstar on their territory, to tell her about their beautiful fields and flowers, that Ratstar was weak and Devotedcrow was out. The ceremony had ended, she was never brought up, and she tried to go on about her day. But it still nagged at her, because little things always sent her mind into a spiral. 

Despite her worries, she had slowly settled back into her routine. The first morning walk she took felt like the most freeing thing in the world, and she would have spent have her time running it out of pure excitement if her body didn't protest the very thought. She was out a little later now, making her way down to the sea shore for the first time since they moved back to camp. When she first stepped foot onto the sand, she thought of her adventure with Rhiannon, the identity she made up that she was somehow jealous of, the fact it felt more like her than Sunfreckle had ever been. The second thing she thought of was the heaviness of the water, Weevilspike nudging her up and away. She passed the half-bridges now, only stopping every now and again to admire an old seashell. She admired the view of Watermouth, and then immeditately came to a sharp stop, stumbled over her own paws that sent her to the ground with a strangled yelp. 

She tried to play it off cool, curse about a rock that wasn't really there as she picked herself up, taking in the sight of their new leader before her. Sunstar always seemed like a powerful force regardless of leadership. Her confidence was loud, and despite their similar namesake, they were nothing alike at all. Sunstar was a summer afternoon, the sun at its highest peak, burning and strong; Sunfreckle felt more like a cloudless winter day — the sky was big and blue but the sun was weak, did nothing against the chill of the snow or wind. Really, she had admired Sunstar, she still did, but now, facing her, she felt nothing but fear. 

"Sunstar!" She chirped, words clipped and nervous, trying to keep her tone respectful, loud and polite. But her mouth twitched into a nervous grimace, her ears twitching to flatten, and it all dripped into her words. "I didn't mean to interrupt, forgive me." 

( no problem!!!!) 

Sunstar was still … off-putting, to put it lightly. Sunfreckle's paws shifted nervously, she never met the new leader's eyes, there was a higher pitch to her voice. She owed her the respect, but Summerclan's crowned princess had always been intimidating. Perhaps it was the fact she held herself in such low regard that anyone she perceived as better, superior, was someone to be weary of. 

I was just about to leave here anyway. Sunfreckle stepped back, gave her space as if she would walk ahead; it was almost an invitation. 

I thought we'd all be sick of the sea ever since... 

She nodded in solemn agreement, "I think I've still got the taste seawater in my mouth," it was an attempt at humour, though she blinked curiously at Sunstar because they were both here, by the sea, talking about how they hadn't expected to see anyone by the sea. The fear of drowning was still very strong, well after the event, because the exhaustion still dragged on, she still got nervous with her back turned because what if a Nightclan cat was still following her and she couldn't defend herself — she'd gotten lucky, really, that that Canarynight had given up when she hit the water. 

"And, um, I don't know if it even matters coming from me," she gave an awkward bark-like laugh, "but what you did was great — with the meetings, and the plans, and showing Nightclan what's what, y'know? I've never felt so much adrenaline!" Alright, maybe she was sucking up a little — not that Sunfreckle would admit it, of course — to get on her good side. With the exile, she was still on edge, and now facing the one cat who pretty much decided her fate, she wanted to stay in her good graces. 

She laughed at her joke, but it fell a little flat. It wasn't difficult to tell that Sunstar was nervous, panicked at the thought of being seen as a tyrant. Exile aside, she didn't see her as particularly unfair — Sunfreckle's own fear was set in fairness, anything given to her would have been earned. She wasn't sure if she should offer comfort or keep her space, so she settled on a middle ground, moving only slightly closer in case and looking with wide, concerned eyes. 

The question caught her off guard. Why'd you do it? She could have played the oblivious act — do what? — but she knew it was fruitless. Sunfreckle knew exactly what she was talking about, knew it would come out at some point, and instead of answering right away, she averted her eyes. She'd felt terrible since the occupation, felt every ounce of grief and guilt but it didn't compare to hearing the words from someone's mouth, especially Sunstar's. The truth was, she wasn't sure. It had been a regular night, she wouldn't have thought anything of it again if Aspenstar hadn't invaded. It had been pleasant conversation, light flirting. 

"I didn't mean too," a children's excuse, it wouldn't fly, so she continued, "really. She seemed so genuine, she'd wandered onto the territory one night and I was supposed to bring her back." She gave a nervous, crackly laugh, "and — and I had just gotten back from my break, I didn't know who she was. And then she said I was pretty and —" she took a breath for a moment, maybe she shouldn't admit she was so easily charmed " — and I ... got distracted, and said some stuff I shouldn't." Gave Aspenstar their weaknesses, same thing. Sunfreckle shrunk back, didn't offer an awkward smile or laugh to diffuse the tension, let it sit in the air. 

And then she started again, slower this time, more careful, "I was stupid, really, really stupid. And I'm sorry." It was almost tearful, confusingly so because why did she want to cry? She'd caused this mess. She knew a simple sorry wouldn't fix it, but she said it anyway, and despite how empty it probably felt to hear, the words were authentic. 

In the silence that followed, Sunfreckle suddenly found herself feeling hot and shaky, but the initial, gnawing shame had loosened slightly at the apology, like an impossible weight had been lifted. For a moment, it was just them, tensely staring off at the other until finally Sunstar relaxed, causing the whole atmosphere to shift, and with that, Sunfreckle settled as well. How could you know? Her tail twitched apprehensively, and every possible thing her new leader could say came to mind, the good, the bad, the terrifying, all at once.

Then she let out a slow, quiet breath, nodded but didn't laugh along with her, though she offered a hesitant smile, "you — you don't have to trust me right now, but I'll try to make it up to you, I promise." Her words were a little lighter, eager to still fix her mistakes. When Sunstar turned back towards the beach, she fell into step just beside her, giggled (nervously, still) at her joke, even if the fear of such a thing had been so painfully real a few seconds before. As the lighthouse came into view, she stared up at it with wide eyes. It was incredibly tall, imposing, but didn't hold the same atmosphere that the Witch's house did when she had first seen it. She gave an excited look, immediately rushing up and ahead, climbing right up to the structure. Sunfreckle had always been a fan of Summerclan's secrets, the old twoleg buildings left mostly abandoned, the mystery, the excitement, and it was all located within a day's walk. The wind had left the door slightly ajar, enough to fit her head in and push it open more, allowing them full access to the darkness that lay inside. She didn't need an invitation, nor a rundown of whatever plan Sunstar had in store for it, because she was already waving so she could be the first to step onto it's old, cold floors.

"You know, I've always wondered what's inside, but I do hope nobody lives here already."

"Well then!" Cheerfully taking the lead, Sunfreckle took the first few, tentative steps inside. She glossed over the loner comment — she could understand the predicament, had been in a similar situation herself where she was on Summerclan, but not a part of them, and she supposed it was the charm of the place that prevented them from truly leaving. She assumed Sunstar would have been a bit young by the time she'd left, she mused with an idle look towards the she-cat.

Inside of the lighthouse was damp, uncomfortably so, but Sunfreckle didn't hesitate to walk further. Her small adventure with Rhiannon had given her a newfound joy in exploring old, abandoned places, and she now knew where to look for any secrets it may hold. Small crevices, the walls, the floors, behind, under, around the furniture, and this was much bigger than a measly twoleg shack, so there was bound to be something interesting. After a moment of examining a particularly dusty cobweb, she looked up towards the spiraling stairs, clambering onto the first one and hopping up the rest, ignoring the creaks they made.

Nearing the top, there was a platform in between, giving way to a small, simple room with a few bits of old furniture. The stairs narrowed from here, and the light was coming from above. She took a few minutes to catch her breath, "what idiot twoleg decided they needed this many stairs — I still haven't recovered from running halfway across Summerclan," giving her mixed pelt a little shake to rid herself of the access debris that seemed to be falling from the ceiling, she continued, having to step higher as the stairs grew taller nearer the open air at the top. The entire thing would have been enclosed in glass, had one of the windows not been shattered. The light was out of service. But she was taken by the view, clear and tall, stretching further than she had ever been able to see. The ocean stretched miles longer now, and everything looked so miniscule.

"This is so cool!" Her voice raised in excitement, and she turned to grin at Sunstar, "what are you planning to do with this?"

Instead of sitting down, or showing any signs that she was tired at all except for a slowing, laboured breath, she pressed up against one of the intact windows, digging her forehead into the cool glass and staring out to sea. The waves were rough when standing right next to them, but being up so high made them look almost calming. It was a good thing Sunfreckle wasn't scared of heights. When Sunstar spoke, she didn't crane her head to look, only continued to stare in wonderment. 

Do you think there's something out there? She purred, "of course. I swear once I saw a piece of land … or a rock — but, generally, you could walk anywhere in any direction and there's always going to be something there." She shrugged, sighed wistfully, finally tore her gaze away and towards the flame-point she-cat. 

"I've always wanted to see it," and she gave a nervous laugh, because she had always felt a little stupid for talking about her want to see more; her parents had always told her she had enough right here. It was never the other clans she was drawn too, it had always been the world beyond. To satisfy the feelings, keep them at bay, she had taken to learning every little thing about Summerclan's territory, every little secret, places like the barn, the streams, the beach and the old buildings, every place herbs could grow, every birds nest. Anything. She couldn't recommend it enough, because it made her a little less scared of the world around her, more welcoming to mystery instead of shying away from it, but there had always been an apprehensiveness to anything outside of Summerclan. 

She pondered the question for a moment, because there was a million places she wanted to see. She sat down, turned again to look out the window, more relaxed now, eyes hooded and content, tail resting idly around her paws. 

"I've always wondered where the birds go when they migrate — I used to wake up at the crack of dawn just to hear them, and my sister hated it because I always woke her up with me," she laughed, though regretted mentioning it at all when she felt a small prickle of grief, something deep down and usually ignored. She winced, moved on quickly, "but really, imagining that anything was possible, I'd like to live in the coral reef. They're so colourful," she leaned forward slightly, staring down at the dark waves that she had been in only days before, but if she could admire the beauty of it, she could forget the feeling of it dragging at her fur. 

She glanced back at Sunstar, "I think the clouds are a good choice, I like to imagine they feel like sheep. I bet the sun is real pretty from above." Their mood had settled into more of a comfortable one, presumably the walk up the stairs had taken the energy out of them, but maybe it was just the fact their original tension had been cut. 

There was something especially somber about the mention of her sister now, when neither of them wanted to bring it up, and so she was just as relieved as it was rushed away, squinted her eyes at the dark waves in hopes of catching glimpses of the colourful coral that lay beneath it. Are we gods to them? She laughed, almost silently. 

"Gods? Why, I think we'd be rather cruel ones — I caught a chub the other day and had it for breakfast, and last time I checked I don't think gods eat their subjects." Perhaps she should have asked Sun God when she had the chance. 

Sunfreckle watched as her breath fogged the window, and lifted her paw to make a faded mark. She tilted her head slightly, the strangeness of Sunstar's original question dawning on her at last, "why do you ask? Is the leader stress that bad? Oh, Starclan, I don't know how you do it — I think I'd break! I mean, maybe that's obvious," she kept her tone light, though there was a hint of concern, of understanding.