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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 14, 2017 13:48:02 GMT -5
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 14, 2017 13:50:36 GMT -5
Leader
Wolfstar- Dark grey tabby tom with a white tipped tail and dark blue eyes. Mentors Crowpaw. Deputy
Hazelfern- Dark brown she-cat with a white muzzle and belly and light amber eyes. Medicine Cat
Foxstep- Dark ginger she-cat with a white muzzle, black paws and light green eyes. Medicine Cat Apprentice
Brownfur- Earth brown tom with dark paws and deep green eyes. Moor-Runners
Runningbreeze- Slim brown tom with long legs and white fur going from his chin to his chest and belly, stopping at the tip of his tail, with white paws and green eyes. Scarfur- Heavily scarred white and grey marbled she-cat with a black tail tip, black ears, and sharp green eyes. Hawkfur- A mottled brown tom with bright amber eyes. Mentors Dawnpaw Marshflower- Black and gold mottled she-cat with deep amber eyes and a lean body. Daughter of Wolfstar. Mentors Flamepaw. Cherrydapple- Fawn colored tabby she-cat with bright amber eyes. Speculated to have lost her kits while birthing away from camp. Riversway- Long-legged brown tabby tom with yellow-green eyes and a long muzzle. Mentors Hillpaw. Whitefur- Pure white she-cat with grey eyes. Ambertail- Dark ginger she-cat with a striped tail and bright blue eyes. Kestrelbreeze- Pale grey tom with white paws and yellow eyes. Silentfeather- Dark grey and white spotted she-cat with dull grey-blue eyes. Mentors Leafpaw Gorseheart- Young white she-cat with a black spot on her tail tip and pale blue-grey eyes. Swiftpool- White she-cat with black splotches and blue eyes. Apprentices
Hillpaw- Golden tom with exotic dappled spots, black paws and green eyes Leafpaw- Light brown tom with a white belly and green eyes. Flamepaw- Ginger tabby she cat with a white belly, white chest, and white muzzle. Dawnpaw- White and brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes. Crowpaw- Black and white tom with blue eyes. Tunnelers
Tunnelmud- Dark brown tom with light brown streaks and blind yellow eyes. Father of Wrenburrow’s kits. Twistedpath- Grey tabby tom with white paws and pale amber eyes. Father of Echofern's kits. Mentors Yellowpaw. Smogstripe- Dark grey tabby tom with deep blue eyes. Son of Wolfstar, father of Hawkkit. Mentors Rockpaw. Mudstrike- A dark brownish red tom and amber eyes. His two back paws are black while his front paws are white. Father of Froststorm's kits. Mentors Lavanderpaw. Darkstorm- Midnight black she-cat with deep green eyes and torn ears. Molenose- Dusty brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes and white paws. Mentors Lionpaw. Burrowheart- Silver and black tabby she-cat with blue-green eyes and large paws. Frozenfang- Heavy-set black and white tom with ice blue eyes and large fangs. Apprentices
Lionpaw- Light golden brown tabby tom with amber eyes. Yellowpaw- Pale grey tom with black patches and sharp yellow eyes. Rockpaw- A small brown tabby tom with dark green eyes. Lavanderpaw- Grey tabby she-cat with a white chest and one white paw with unusual blue purple eyes Queens
Froststorm- Lean calico she-cat with light blue eyes. Protective, never backed down from a fight, former moor-runner, mother of Redkit, Eaglekit, and fosters Duskkit. Echofern- Small black and ginger she-cat with bright blue eyes, mother of Sandkit and Jaykit, temporarily fosters Hawkkit. Wrenburrow- White, black and brown mottled she-cat with yellow-green eyes. Former tunnler. Mother of Rabbitkit and Quailkit. Kits
Duskkit- Russet colored tom with black paws and a dark brown ring around his muzzle, with golden colored eyes. He is mute. Hawkkit- Skinny and easily angered dark brown tom with black paws, ears, a white muzzle and harsh amber eyes. Sandkit- Light brown, black and white mottled she-kit with soft blue eyes. Jaykit- Pale grey tabby tom with one white paw and yellow amber eyes. Redkit- Soft dusty red she-cat with white paws and a black tail with sapphire blue eyes. Eaglekit- Rare calico tom with one amber eye and one green eye. Rabbitkit- A slim brown tom with one white paw and yellow eyes. Quailkit- Elders
Puddlefoot- Dark grey tabby tom with blue eyes, blind in one eye. Tansytail- Tiny dark brown she-cat with green eyes and a long tail.
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 14, 2017 13:50:53 GMT -5
Summary
Windclan stands at the edge of a new era, with winds of change soaring through the clan each and every day. hawkfury is born into windclan with the sole desire to be the greatest warrior he can be. as he grows from kithood to adulthood, he faces adventures and challenges, love and hardships. As is the way of life in the clans. Even so, darkness brews on the winds, and a new kind of storm threatens the existence of all five clans. follow hawkfury's perspective of both the brightest and darkest times in windclan, a perspective of hope, war and honor, and a perspective of a warrior who stood by his clan through it all, through the eye of the storm and beyond.
I dedicate this story to Scar and Fire, two wonderful windclan leaders, and everyone else at Moonpower's five-clan rp that helped me write this. Thank you for so many years of wonderful rping! Enjoy!
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 14, 2017 13:55:54 GMT -5
Prologue
"Grrr! No! She's gonna wake up if I pull her tail!" The skinny little kit's voice rang through the quiet medicine den, as fiery amber eyes sparked up at the slender black tabby tom. His deep blue eyes stared right back with sharp sternness and loss.
The camp was silent in the wake of the queen they just lost. Leafbare was miserable this year, cats coughing and wheezing...dying, from Greencough. Daisybreeze was not the first cat to be claimed by Greencough this season, but for the black tabby warrior, it was the most painful loss. While he had always been rather rough around the edges, his love for Daisybreeze had been so genuine.
And now Hawkkit had no mother. Barely more than 3 moons old, another queen would have to feed him for a few more days...but he knew Hawkkit would fight that. He wanted his mother, and her soft brown and white fur, her warm amber eyes so much like their son's. Hawkkit was trying so hard to yank his mother awake, screaming angrily at her to stop playing. "Hawkkit...Daisybreeze is not playing. Quiet yourself...enough."
The dark furred tom had to pull his kit away from his mother's body, drawing furious shouts from the kit.
"Lemme go! Mother! Get up right now! Get-...get up."
His furious shouts ended in a thick whimper, before wails of sadness replaced screams of anger. It took every ounce of Smogstripe's power to not break down, holding his crying son in his jaws before placing Hawkkit down away from his dead mother.
Hawkkit quickly hid under his father's legs, pressing up to the dark tabby fur and crying, not wanting to see his mother sleeping so much. He had tried everything, but this time when he tugged her tail...she didn't even move. He wailed loudly.
Smogstripe's apologetic gaze was understood by Foxstep, who stood quietly near Daisybreeze's body. The medicine cat looked frazzled, tired and worn down. Smogstripe did not blame her for this, Foxstep had been prepared...Daisybreeze had always been frail, she could not have survived with a queen's weakened immune system. His blue eyes shone with meaning as he nodded to her. Foxstep approached.
"Smogstripe I..."
"You did your best. Nobody could have done better...My Daisybreeze is healthy and safe in Starclan...B-but for now, my responsibility is to my son...I will be ready for vigil with Hawkkit at my side."
He spoke politely, holding back his pain. The tom was masterful at bearing pain, not one to grieve openly.
He would have to move on, he couldn't let misery cloud his duty to raising their only kit. As much as it burned at his heart, Hawkkit needed him...a lot.
The kit clearly got angry easily. He snapped and screamed and ran around with boundless energy. Smogstripe was sure no other kit had been so uncontrollable, and the thought made him anxious. He'd always love his fiery son dearly, but he was a cat of calm patience, a cat of stern upbringing. He could not cry, and while he'd let Hawkkit mourn, he wouldn't let his son cry forever.
He leaned down to console Hawkkit, who was in between a tantrum and a miserable sniffling. Smogstripe swallowed, mewing lowly.
"It's alright, Hawkkit. You will see Daisybreeze again one day...but for now we must honor her love. Her love for you, and me, and for Windclan. Do you love Windclan?" Hawkkit sniffed with fierce anger.
"I love mother." He growled miserably.
"And she loved Windclan. So, you honor her by defending and honoring your clan just like she did. Do you understand me?"
Smogstripe's words took on a sharp strength as he pulled Hawkkit to look him in the eyes. Hawkkit at first refused to look at him, but Smogstripe would not let Hawkkit lose sight of everything his mother stood for.
"I said, do you understand me, Hawkkit?" He repeated sharply, and the kit finally seemed to understand.
Watery amber eyes gazed up at his father's deep blue ones. Hawkkit sniffed heavily, choking out.
"Y-yes papa. I'll love Windclan, for mother..." He promised, gritting his teeth to try and stop crying. Warriors did not cry. Mother had never cried. So, he wouldn't either.
Smogstripe allowed his eyes to soften and his stance to calm once again. He looked at Hawkkit.
"We will sit vigil. Pray to Starclan that she is safe in her travel to the stars. That's where she is. Only above your head, at night. Look to the sky when you are troubled, and know she will always be there with you...and one day I will be up there too."
Smogstripe explained.
"No. I don't want you to be a star too." Hawkkit snapped, eyes angered at the notion. But Smogstripe did not spare the reaction. He merely nodded sharply.
"I will one day. And you must continue without me. Without those who you cared for once, because one day you will be the one consoling your kits, your clanmates. Your destiny...it is to be the greatest you can be for Windclan. Look outside this den."
Hawkkit did just that, glaring at the cats whispering outside, many upset at losing Daisybreeze. Hawkkit looked at Tunnelmud, who was near his mate, trying to console the newborn Rabbitkit. He must have awoken from Hawkkit's screaming, but Hawkkit had no apology for that. His eyes then reached over to Scarfur and Hawkfur, as well as the other warriors. They all were clearly distraught... Hawkkit noticed how so many clanmates were gathered, all looking genuine in their emotions for Daisybreeeze, and for him too. While Hawkkit hated to be stared at, he felt glad that Windclan loved mother as much as mother loved Windclan. He'd repay them for that.
Smogstripe's deep voice turned Hawkkit's eyes back to him, and the dark warrior continued.
"These cats are your family, and you will be their protector as they protect you. Every kit and apprentice and queen and elder, you must be willing to live for them, and die for them...you will understand this better as you grow, but know that you must never lose sight of what you stand for. Honor, loyalty...obey your code and defend your clan with everything you are...and only then will you truly honor Windclan." Smogstripe nodded.
Hawkkit couldn't feel anger at that. The words were confusing at times, but he knew the gist of the code, and he wanted more than anything to be like his mother and father. His tears faded as a sort of fire started in his heart. He gazed up at Smogstripe as he promised. "I will! I will, I'll be all that! And I'll make Windclan safe and proud."
Hawkkit would always remember the pride in his father's eyes, even as the medicine cat pressed herbs to his mother's body, had carried her to the center of camp, even as he could no longer feel the warmth of Diasybreeze's soft fur.
As the cats of Windclan surrounded them, Hawkkit knew what his purpose was. He'd always remember the look in Smogstripe's eyes...
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"Another one, dead. Starclan surely is angered." "Wolfstar, Starclan has sent no sign of-"
"Do not interrupt me, Foxstep!"
Wolfstar's eyes glowered dangerously, moving to snap at the now slightly bristled medicine cat. He paced furiously in his den.
"We're losing clanmates faster than they are being born! And Quailkit hardly survived her birth, let alone the others! The other clans will have us by the tails if we show such...weakness!"
He lashed his thick tail, wiry muscles moving under a ragged grey pelt. His long claws scored at the earth.
Foxstep had to hold in her deep sigh. Moons of this, Wolfstar's strict anger and obsession with the image of his clan. She understood his fears, but she also felt a wave of frustration at his blatant disregard of what she had to say. Even so, she remained quiet, eyes hard and staring at her leader as he sat with a hefty sigh.
"I can practically feel Darkstar eyeing at our lands...Cometstar laughing in his den at the sheer lack of numbers in my clan. Ugh. I detest them all!" Wolfstar hissed.
It was certainly true that under Wolfstar, tensions rose on the borders and with former alliances. Darkstar had no patience for Wolfstar's arrogant and aggressive nature, and the other leaders seemed to remain on guard around him at gatherings.
What's worse was that Wolfstar's deputy, and mate, was ill as well. Hazelfern could hardly eat or drink, and the leader was at his ends with how Starclan was allowing the strong she-cat to suffer so slowly. He sighed, tapping a black paw and barking harshly. "Get more herbs, you and Brownfur. Take as many warriors as you need, but my deputy must recover, is that understood?"
Wolfstar seemed ready to spring over the moon in his aggressive stance.
Foxstep turned her head quietly, nodding.
"We will do our best to ensure your mate will survive...Oh Wolfstar, please, you must believe that Starclan is not against us...Whatever happens must be taken with faith in our hearts...I will have Brownfur retrieve more herbs, but for now, I must return to the vigil..."
She turned to leave, only for the tom to stop her again.
"If you are to see Daisybreeze in Starclan, you will tell my son, yes?" He asked sharply.
Foxstep cast her eyes back over her russet colored shoulder, nodding lightly.
"I will tell Smogstripe if I sense her...come with me, Wolfstar. You loved Daisybreeze as if she were your daughter. Smogstripe will appreciate his father's support...and your grandson will learn a lesson in the nature of respect to those who have fallen if he sees you respecting her as well..." Foxstep reminded softly.
That seemed to stir in Wolfstar's mind, his fur flattening and the tapping of his paw slowing until it rested flat against the ground once more. His body relaxed as the more sympathetic side came into light, a rare look for the rough leader.
She could appreciate being one of the only cats in the clan that could calm her leader's fierce attitude. Wolfstar's blue eyes dulled with tiredness, but he followed his medicine cat to where his clanmates were gathered. Wolfstar gazed at the still form of Daisybreeze, the poor she-cat, before moving to sit respectfully next to Smogstripe. The only notion of affection the leader's son showed was the resting of his tail on his father's paw. Wolfstar expected nothing from his reserved son.
Blue eyes then trained on Hawkkit, who was as quiet and stone faced as his own father now. Wolfstar was surprised by his lack of anger, as though the common emotion of the kit was gone. It was different, yet Wolfstar could tell Hawkkit was beginning to truly understand life. As they should when they are young.
The only sound that spilled into the night was the coughing of a dying deputy, and the whispering of the moor-land wind through the pelts of Windclan.
Silverpelt sparkled a little brighter in the leaf-bare sky that night...
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 14, 2017 14:05:16 GMT -5
Chapter 1
Hawkkit dashed around Echofern's paws, the flustered and humored queen fluffing up her black and ginger fur. She gasped.
"Hawkkit, don't step on my paws!"
Hawkkit seemed to not hear her, and kept weaving in and out between her paws, followed by two other kits his age. One was a she-kit with black fur and sandy brown and ginger splotches, with wide blue eyes that shined with delight, while the other was a light silver tabby furred tomkit with a white muzzle and light yellow-amber eyes, the largest of the three yet also the slowest.
The she-kit easily caught up to Hawkkit, prodding her paw into his side as she burst past him.
Hawkkit was caught off balance, falling to the ground. He immediately hopped back up, shaking his brown fur and stamping his paw.
"Hey! No fair, Sandkit! The game's called "tag" not "push Hawkkit to the ground!" He hissed angrily.
While Sandkit merely lifted a paw to giggle in apology, her brother twitched his ear and snickered.
"It's not Sandkit's fault that you have twiggy legs."
Hawkkit growled and was on him in an instant, wrestling with the other tomkit, who gave a small shout of readiness, tussling with Windclan's most notorious ball of rage. This happened very often, so the yellow eyed kit was not afraid of Hawkkit's anger by now. Sooner or later, Hawkkit would wrestle for fun once he was done being angry.
Sandkit watched from the sides, cheering in her gentle voice.
"Get him Jaykit! Don't lose this time!"
"Jaykit loses every time!" Hawkkit taunted, only to shriek as he was tossed off the momentarily pinned Jaykit.
"Liar liar! I win sometimes! Like just now! Hah!" Jaykit lifted his nose proudly, as Hawkkit gave a growl. Even so, the slender kit stood and shook his fur again. He complained to Echofern.
"Echofern! Jaykit said I have twiggy legs again!"
Echofern approached the three kits, giving a look of gentle sternness. She purred.
"Sandkit, Jaykit, what did I say about being mean to your clanmates?" The blue-eyed queen flicked an ear as she checked Hawkkit for any injuries.
Of course, Hawkkit shook away anytime she tried. He was 5 moons old! He could check his own fur! He scowled, yet Echofern remained unfazed. She cast her stern eyes on her two kits.
Sandkit quieted in guilt, and Jaykit looked a little regretful, shuffling at the ground with his white toed paws. The more outspoken Jaykit apologized first.
"Sorry I said you had twiggy legs, Hawkkit..."
Sandkit piped in, voice quiet yet meaningful.
"I didn't mean to push you down. Next time, I'll play tag right."
Echofern nodded, accepting the apologies from her kits. She looked at Hawkkit as he tapped his foot, amber eyes looking decisive on whether he should forgive them or not. He finally gave a victorious grin and nodded.
"I forgive you this time! But only because I'm bored again. This den is stupid and boring." He snorted rudely, before promptly scowling at another queen who commented sharply.
"You'd do well to respect the nursery and what it stands for. You're the oldest kit in this den save for Duskkit. it's time you acted like it!" The calico she-cat was resting with Redkit and Eaglekit napping at her side, her foster kit, Duskkit, quietly playing with some rocks in the corner. She looked stressed and tired, yet her eyes were alive with passion for her den.
Hawkkit bared his tiny fangs at Froststorm, snapping back angrily.
"I do respect the nursery! But I'll be leaving here soon anyway. And all we do is lie here and chit chat like stupid birds." He lashed his little tail and whipped away from Froststorm's agitated form. The calico queen bristled as she pulled her tail around her paws and gave a heavy sigh.
Hawkkit stormed away from the queens as he usually did when he butted heads with them. Which was often. They weren't his mothers! Echofern may be close to that title, but he wasn't gonna take orders from them like that.
He scowled at his paws as he stamped furiously out of the den, only to shriek with fury as a paw planted itself on his tail. He shouted.
"Hey! Get off my tail! I'm walking here!"
His amber eyes crackled with an enraged glaze, only to stifle and flicker to his paws before quickly shifting his gaze back up, trying to be brave in front of this cat. Of course, the equally amber eyes that stared right back didn't flicker or shift at all.
The black and gold she-cat pulled her slender paw and leg away, though as slender as she was, she radiated an incredible aspect of contradiction. Youth and wisdom, strength and slimness, savageness outlined with pure grace.
"Marshflower..." He squeaked, feeling his anger fade to simple annoyance. He couldn't find himself to show as much anger around his aunt. Marshflower was more terrifying than anyone else when she was bothered. She was the only cat he dared admit he felt a bit scared of.
Marshflower stood tall above Hawkkit, tail lashing as she demanded.
"Did I hear you arguing with Froststorm again?"
"Well, she was the one who-!"
"Say another word, Hawkkit. I dare you." Hawkkit shut his jaws angrily yet obediently at Marshflower's deep warning. She continued, flicking a jet-black ear.
"Every time you disrespect a queen, you disrespect your clan. How rotten of you. Froststorm is a cat with strong merits. You should refer to her and to her den more highly when you decide to open your mouth."
Hawkkit felt his ears flatten, whiskers shaking with angered shame. He hated when his aunt made him feel like a rotten furball. He averted his gaze, kicking a pebble as his aunt continued her scolding.
"Think of Redkit and Eaglekit, or Duskkit. When you play with them and have fun, Froststorm makes sure you all won't get hurt. Froststorm has fought in battles and has bled and battled for you and your clanmates. Do you think you calling the nursery stupid makes her feel good?"
"No..." Hawkkit growled, teeth gritting.
Marshflower narrowed her eyes, tail still and body poised in warning. She simply sat down, mewing gruffly.
"Well, I suggest you remember that. In fact, you are turning yourself around and you are apologizing to every queen in that den you just insulted. Am I clear?"
Hawkkit shot a wide-eyed glance up, exclaiming.
"But! -"
Marshflower's gaze sharpened frighteningly as she thrust her muzzle down to his own.
"I said, am I clear, Hawkkit?" She demanded with a tone that both refused and dared for disobedience. A tone that stopped Hawkkit in his frenzied denial and embarrassment. Starclan, all the kits were going to laugh at him!
He swallowed, cowering for only a moment before the anger he felt was replaced with disgruntled acceptance. He was to be a warrior one day. He couldn't act immature and shy away from a stupid apology. Hawkkit merely nodded sourly, as Marshflower moved her muzzle away and nudged her nephew sharply towards the nursery.
He wanted to hiss at the warriors who looked at him with shaking heads and at his aunt with murmurs of approval. She always got those. He always got head shakes. He bristled his dark brown coat as he was ushered back into the nursery.
Sandkit looked at him from behind her mother's tail, Jaykit busy playing with Rabbitkit and Quailkit. Echofern seemed relieved to see him back, though Froststorm seemed interested and nodded seeing Marshflower ushering him back into the den. She stopped him in front of the expectant queen, who looked at him with calm yet simmering eyes.
"Hawkkit, you have something to say to Froststorm, yes?" Marshflower ordered, eyes flashing towards the 5-moon old kit.
Hawkkit was quiet in his shame, glaring at his paws at first until he looked up bitterly at the queen. His eyes met Froststorm's for a moment, only to catch on her shoulder, where a long and patchy scar marred her soft and smooth fur. The seemingly flawless mother had been tainted by what looked like a painful injury. And yet she allowed kits to climb over her with no trouble, no complaint as their little paws grazed the testament to her dedication to her clan.
For the first time he could remember, Hawkkit felt a different feeling replace his anger. How could Froststorm be stupid if she could get hurt like that and not cry once? He gave a wide-eyed glance at the other queens, paws shaking as he spotted countless scars and imperfections on the queens, seeing them poised in their nests as their focus remained on their kits, on the den entrance, on keeping the nest warm, patching up the den...
Hawkkit was never cold when Wrenburrow fixed the holes near his nest, her skillful paws never making a mistake, even when her leg was ragged with healed fox bites and one of her toes was torn from experiences he had only dreamed of.
He swiftly looked back at Froststorm, heart aching and guilt overpowering his anger as he apologized miserably.
"I'm sorry I called the nursery stupid! It's not, a-and I just wanted to play more." He squeaked, not allowing himself to cry, but crouching low anyway.
Froststorm visibly relaxed at his genuine regret, her eyes softening as Marshflower demanded.
"And, Hawkkit?"
"A-and, I won't say it again...A-and sorry, to everyone else..." He stammered heavily.
The den was quiet for a moment, before Froststorm broke the silence, nodding and leaning down to place her muzzle to Hawkkit's cheek.
"I accept your apology. That was honorable of you. We only want to keep you safe and respectable for Windclan. You know that, yes?"
Hawkkit nodded quietly, stiffly.
Echofern approached, Sandkit scampering at her side. The little kit yawned.
"I wanna sleep. I'm tired." She admitted, giving Hawkkit an expecting glance. Hawkkit pouted.
He wasn't tired at all, just antsy and ashamed from having to apologize and making a fool of himself. Even so, he hated seeing Sandkit disappointed, so he scampered over to her, trying to regain his boldness and pride.
Of course, it was just then that Rabbitkit and Quailkit waddled from their nest to team up on Jaykit, who cried in surprise before beginning to play-fight with the younger kits. Hawkkit kind of wanted to join them, but he felt his paws carrying him towards Sandkit, amber eyes trained on her blue ones as she smiled tiredly.
Hawkkit joined Sandkit at Echofern's side, watching the den as his inner anger faded away as it usually did. He noticed that Marshflower had finally left once she remembered that she had to take her apprentice out before it got any later. Hawkkit was relieved to see the stern warrior go, scowling to himself. One day, he wouldn't be pushed around by his aunt and would be as brave as she was.
He turned to ignore the fun that Rabbitkit, Jaykit and Quailkit were having, instead pushing close to Echofern and Sandkit as he forced himself to close his eyes, dreaming of nothing but grass and wind.
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“The queens, Smogstripe! I’d be more lenient if it was an apprentice he was snapping his jaws off to. But he’s more than old enough to at least understand the concept of respect!” Marshflower’s pacing around the den was starting to irritate the usually calm and collected tom, who had entered the leader’s den to check on their mother, Hazelfern, not to be lectured by his strict and uptight sister.
He humored her, giving a deep sigh.
“Marshflower, Hawkkit is a kit. Not an apprentice, not a warrior. He apologized, as you so graciously told me. I was doing my duties. Something you should have been doing.”
He knew that would set her off, and it certainly did.
“I preform my duties far better than you ever could, Smogstripe, and do not attempt to turn this situation on me. You’re his father, it should be you scolding Hawkkit for acting so dreadfully to a respected queen, the same one who has fought for Windclan in many battles!” Marshflower marched up to her brother, glaring sharp amber eyes into his annoyed blue ones.
“Exactly.” He spat out to his sister.
“He is my son, not yours. I can handle my own kit, perhaps it’s the fault of the cats who expect a kit to know every rule and boundary the day they learn to walk on four paws.”
“Smogstripe, that is not what I- “
“You have no right to lecture me on parenting when no tom would want to stand two tail lengths from you, certainly with a nosy and controlling attitude like yours.” Smogstripe hissed darkly at her, making it clear that he was not going to tolerate being scolded by his own sister, who had never had a mate or kits and probably never would.
Marshflower was well renowned for her calm control of her anger, raised under the strict upbringing of Wolfstar and his deputy, but even she could burst out of her shell when she was truly infuriated. That was exactly what Smogstripe had hoped for, to give her a taste of her own scolding. He merely lifted a paw to inspect his claws in disinterest as the bristled she-cat snarled.
“You stupid, irresponsible pile of-!”
“Enough!” The sharp coughing behind the quarreling siblings silenced the den. Smogstripe and Marshflower snapped their gazes to the ill deputy curled up in the nest she and her mate shared. Wolfstar was not present, out training with Crowpaw, Hawkfur and Dawnpaw, but Hazelfern, even in her sickly state, could still command quiet when she needed it.
Hazelfern wheezed.
“I did not raise you two to fight like kits in front of me. Disrespecting your father’s den with your banter. What’s worse…is that you’re willing to stoop so low as to insult each other on personal levels. Smogstripe, you should be thankful that Marshflower cares enough for your son to direct him on the right path when you are unable to do so…”
Smogstripe averted his gaze, as Marshflower nodded, instantly relaxing herself, finding it impossible to continue if it meant it would put stress on her ill mother. She perked shamefully as Hazelfern continued in a low tone.
“Marshflower, be aware that Smogstripe is Hawkkit’s father, and that while your intentions are good, it is Smogstripe’s duty to decide how his kits are raised. If he sees it fit to punish Hawkkit, he will. Scolding a parent won’t ever get you anywhere, my dear.” She reminded, coughing brutally once more.
Smogstripe quickly moved to press wearily to his mother. He mewed gently.
“Don’t over-exert yourself, mother…please, you must get some rest.” He refused to leave her side until the deputy settled back into her nest, breath shuddering and pelt shaking. She blinked tiredly and sighed, too sickly to continue speaking to her kits.
Instead, Smogstripe looked at his sister.
“I…apologize, for my words. I spoke out of anger…”
The mottled warrior shook her head, giving a sigh.
“I as well…I only say these things because I care for him. I want what’s best for Hawkkit…I’ll back off him more, though, to respect your wishes.” She stepped back, finding it impossible to continue looking at the once mighty deputy.
“Marshflower, where are you going?”
She looked back at her brother’s quiet and deep question, to which she could only blink amber eyes and reply.
“To hunt for a bit before the sun goes down…I need some air, and Flamepaw needs more running practice.”
With that, Marshflower left Hazelfern and Smogstripe in the leader’s den.
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 14, 2017 14:05:32 GMT -5
Chapter 2
Hawkkit felt grass slip through his toes, cool air and bright sunlight bouncing off his dark brown pelt. He was running, and running real fast, at that. He had no idea where he was running to, instead imagining the territory from elder stories and Wolfstar’s calls for patrols and where they needed to go.
Either way, Hawkkit’s heart raced in sheer joy and delight. Feeling this free, this strong, it felt too good to be true. Hill after hill, he raced across them all.
But, like all good things, his amazing dream had to come to an end. And the cause of that end was by none other than the nursery’s most bothersome yet friendly she-kit. Hawkkit creaked open his amber eyes with a deep frown, looking up blearily at the wide blue eyes of Sandkit. She was prodding him quietly yet constantly, and Hawkkit gave a puff of annoyance.
“Sandkit? Why are you prodding me? Gr…I’m trying to sleep, mousebrain!” He grumbled.
“Shh! You’re loud, Hawkkit. We gotta be quiet or the whole clan will hear us!” Sandkit scolded with a faint whisper, cuffing his ear.
“Get up! C’mon, we don’t have all night.” She ordered.
Hawkkit’s anger began to fade to curious confusion. What was Sandkit talking about? He pulled himself up on slender paws, giving a big yawn and sighing.
“Sandkit, what are you talking about? Why are you so awake this late?”
“I’m not tired, silly. And I want to go see all the dens and explore the camp. I mean, we’ll be apprentices soon, and we’ll need to know all the dens. We’ve seen most of them, and Windlcan cats sleep outside, but…”
Hawkkit’s eyes widened in sudden interest. He was never one to turn down adventure or Sandkit’s offers. She always was the most fun kit in the nursery. He quickly gave a proud smirk, and announced.
“You want to spy on the dens!” He accused.
Sandkit didn’t make a single move to deny the accusation, instead giggling quietly at Hawkkit’s ability to know what she was thinking. It was why she had woken only him up, and not Jaykit. Jaykit would have told Echofern and then they’d have gotten in trouble. But Hawkkit was not one to tell secrets, and she breathed.
“You got it! I want to see if there’s any secret news we can find out so we can help on missions. We’ll be made apprentices in no time if we have the best secrets right in our paws!” How could Hawkkit argue with that logic? He quickly nodded, lifting to quietly scoot around Echofern and Jaykit’s sleeping forms, standing next to Sandkit as he whispered.
“Alright. Hawkstar is ready to lead his deputy, Sandblaze, to find clan secrets.”
Sandkit merely pushed past him, scampering carefully out of the den and veering to hide herself along the gorse wall that surrounded the camp. Once he caught up, she sneered.
“Well that’s funny, because Sandstar was the one leading her deputy, Hawkfeather, to find clan secrets, wasn’t she?”
Hawkkit scowled deeply. He would be leader one day.
She’s lucky I’d make her my deputy. But she knows I’d be a far better leader…Hmph, I’ll be nice and let her be leader, but only this once!
He thought to himself, feeling proud to make such a mature choice, as the older warriors had called it.
The dark brown kit scampered after Sandkit’s tiny mottled form, pressing close to the gorse. Luckily, it was dark enough that both kits would be hidden well enough. That didn’t stop Sandkit from flicking her tail in warning at the tired form of Runningbreeze guarding the camp entrance. He was the oldest moor-runner in Windclan, and the most respected. Getting caught by the brown tom would not be fun.
Luckily, Sandkit was smart, and shuffled quietly backward, instead leading Hawkkit in the opposite direction around camp. It would be a bit longer of a walk, but they would not have to sneak past Runningbreeze. Hawkkit kept his pawsteps careful, heart racing in secret enjoyment at sneaking around with Sandkit. It was like they were on a real mission. He perked up as he saw the medicine den, the very one that his father had told him never to go into alone. Not that Hawkkit would. Medicine was boring, and tasted nasty. Why could he ever be mousebrained enough to eat stupid berries anyway?
Sandkit tucked herself quickly behind the den, gazing at the side wall covered in gorse. Sticking her ears up to it, she nodded for Hawkkit to do the same. He gave an excited breath, pressing his pointed ears to the tendrils of gorse and giving a silent breath when he heard clear voices. That must have been Foxstep and Brownfur talking. He strained his ears to hear the medicine cats.
“I can’t explain it so easily, Foxstep, it was…it was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever- “
Brownfur’s quivering voice was cut off by the tired and older voice of Foxstep, his mentor. She gave a heavy sigh and reminded him.
“I understand your panic. Whatever you saw genuinely frightened you, but you must be sure that it was a sign, and not a simple nightmare. Even medicine cats can have just that, nightmares.”
Hawkkit glanced curiously at Sandkit, wondering exactly what the medicine cats were discussing so tightly and quietly. Whatever it was, was causing Brownfur to sound frightened and unsure. That was never a good sign. Sandkit’s only response was to flick her eyes to meet his with the same entranced curiousity.
Quickly returning to listening in, Hawkkit picked up the clear and shaky sigh from the brown furred medicine cat.
“I...I suppose you’re right. But...it just felt so real…”
“Tell me what you saw. Slowly, this time.” Foxstep urged her apprentice, and Hawkkit had to strain his ears to hear Brownfur’s quiet explanation.
“The sky was dark. Incredibly so, and wind, there was so much wind. It felt like my fur was going to get pulled off. And then...and then this ear-splitting noise filled the air and the sky just...split open. As if Starclan themselves were reaching a giant paw down to the moors, scoring acros-...”
Hawkkit growled inwardly as Brownfur’s voice became too quiet for him or Sandkit to hear. The words Hawkkit managed to hear sounded incredibly interesting. That must have been some nightmare, to see the sky split apart! But, Hawkkit wasn’t stupid, and certainly knew that the sky couldn’t do that. Not even Starclan could do that…
Could they?
He assured himself sharply that he had fluff in his brain, and instead he looked at Sandkit, who was pouting from the lack of being able to hear the rest of the medicine cat’s words. Sandkit scooted towards Hawkkit, ordering to him.
“This got boring. They went all quiet. So...I guess we should go find some other places to get some good information. Oh! I know!” The mottled she-kit stealthily waddled herself back towards the gorse wall, Hawkkit following her curiously. She looked around for any cats that could catch them in their spying act, and quickly lunged towards a large den, one of the only ones besides the nursery and medicine den. This was the leader’s den. Wolfstar and Hazelfern’s resting place.
Hawkkit felt a small sense of hesitance, but quickly slashed away at that. If Sandkit could do it, he could do it too. Even if both the leader and deputy were his direct kin and probably recognized his scent the best out of most other cats in the clan…
As they had done with the medicine cats, Sandkit and Hawkkit strained their ears to listen in on any kind of activity in the leader’s den.
To Hawkkit’s disappointment, he felt a heavy weight in his belly at the sharp wheezes and soft coughs from Hazelfern. Hawkkit knew she had been sick for a long time now, and not even Foxstep or Brownfur could really make her strange illness go away. It wasn’t contagious, it seemed, seeing as not even the cats who caught Whitecough or Greencough had symptoms that lasted as long as Hazelfern’s, and nobody had contracted her same illness.
Hawkkit hated how much it weighed on him when his grandmother coughed and wheezed like that. It was like feeling a tick on one’s pelt but being unable to reach it or pull it off, a constant nagging feeling and worry about nothing but that tick, in this case the tick being that strange illness.
And yet, Wolfstar refused to remove her from her deputy position and give it to a more capable cat. Even Hawkkit knew Hazelfern wasn’t that strong and determined Windclan deputy anymore. With Shadowclan creeping at the borders, Windclan needed a strong deputy more than ever. Wolfstar was letting his love for her cloud his judgement, and Hawkkit decided that he would do his best not to act the same way, to not let personal feelings affect the well-being of the clan.
Sandkit was pouting again, but this time there was a genuine sadness to her eyes as she looked at Hawkkit. Hawkkit hated when Sandkit looked like that, when she wasn’t happy and bouncing around, she looked like a stranger. She ushered Hawkkit away from the leader’s den and back into the gorse wall, where she squeaked sadly.
“Hazelfern sounded so sick...Hawkkit, will she be okay? She’s our deputy, she’s gotta be okay soon, right?”
Hawkkit wondered if Sandkit was trying to assure herself something, and he gave his best brave look and sure voice as he snorted.
“Of course, she’ll be alright. I mean, she’s Hazelfern. Sickness can’t bring down a cat as important as her.”
Now he wondered faintly if he was trying to assure himself instead of her.
Instead of dwelling on it, Hawkkit nudged Sandkit onwards, feeling the gorse brush up against his brown pelt. He knew smugly that he and Sandkit were clearly stealthy. The clan didn’t even know they were out! He hid his slight concern over his grandmother with that rush of pride he felt from spying around camp. He was relieved to see Sandkit perking up again too.
Suddenly though, Sandkit scooted closer to the wall, crouching low in the shadows and signaling for Hawkkit to do the same. The moment he zipped after the she-kit, the sure pawsteps of a small group of warriors passed by them. Hawkkit scrambled to remember the names, before he recognized the warriors as Gorseheart, Swiftpool and Burrowheart.
The three she-cats were talking quietly yet heatedly, with Burrowheart giving out rather cross mews to the two laughing moor-runners. It was clearly some fun banter, and Hawkkit nearly rolled his eyes at how distracted they were to not notice two kits right below their noses.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take a run on the moors? The sky is clear for once and Silverpelt is stunning out there.” Gorseheart flicked her tail, her white pelt stark against the darkness.
“Burrowheart. That’s my name, I’m a tunneler, not a moor-runner. Besides, I don’t need to moon up at Silverpelt to know they’re watching over me. You know, some cats don’t enjoy being poked at due to their rank.” Burrowheart’s sassy voice resonated enough to define her, the silver and black tabby rolling her green eyes in response to the now smirking Gorseheart.
“Stop it, both of you.” Swiftpool stood as the mediator, eyeing her companions with a gentle smile and padding her way between them.
“We’ll hunt together on the moors, until Burrowheart can reach a tunnel where she can continue on her own.”
That seemed to soothe the ticked off Burrowheart, who easily calmed down and nodded to Gorseheart. The small moor-runner gave a light sigh, but was smiling and chatting once more. Hawkkit waited until the three she-cats were gone before he gave a sigh of relief and nudged Sandkit.
“I can’t believe cats would willingly be tunnelers. What if they just, collapsed, you know?” He snorted. Sandkit seemed to shrug in faint agreement, but there was a strange look in her eyes too. She turned to Hawkkit and admitted.
“Jaykit says he wants to be a tunneler...I thought we were going to be moor-runners together…” She pouted, shuffling her tiny paws with sheer disappointment. Hawkkit felt a faint pang of regret at that, knowing how close she was with her brother, but quickly puffed his chest and sneered.
“Yeah, well, let Jaykit do what he wants. I’m going to be a moor-runner. With you. So, you’ll still have a warrior to be impressed with.” He smirked.
Sandkit was quick to give a toothy grin of her own, clearly relieved at her friend’s assuring words, yet ruffled by his smirking arrogance.
“No way. If anyone’s going to be the best moor-runner, it’s me. You’ve got fluff in your brain, Hawkkit. Now, c’mon. I think we’ve got enough secrets for now...Er, I’m kinda tired.” Sandkit finished her argument with a big yawn, to which Hawkkit had to frantically shush her as to not alert the clan. She gave a sheepish giggle, but soon began scampering back along the gorse wall.
Hawkkit wouldn’t admit it, but he himself was rather exhausted, especially since his head was now filled with words of bad dreams, the wheezing of ill deputies and the quarreling of chatty warriors.
Following right behind Sandkit, he hobbled his way towards the nursery.
A pair of blue eyes watched the kits from afar, before turning away, their owner slipping back into the Warrior’s den without a sound...
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 17, 2017 14:25:18 GMT -5
Chapter 3
Hawkkit didn’t have enough toes on his paws to count the number of times Eaglekit or Jaykit woke him up from a wonderful nap. They were loud and rowdy…not to say Hawkkit wasn’t, but at least he knew when to keep the noise down when needed. Even in the few days since his spy mission around camp with Sandkit, Hawkkit had found himself talking less and brooding and observing more.
Smogstripe visited, sure, but his father was so monotone and detached that it made Hawkkit growl in annoyance. He’d rather get swooped up by a bird than admit how envious he was when Twistedpath played tag with Sandkit and Jaykit, or when Mudstrike carried Eaglekit and Redkit around, making sure to teach Duskkit the joys of tunneling. Though, Hawkkit didn’t see the value of digging stupid holes like rabbits. It was Mudstrike’s attentavieness, that’s what Hawkkit got sour about. Why were all the other tunnelers so fun and his father wasn’t?...
Most of the fathers of the nursery’s kits were Tunnelers, including his own. Wonderful. They heard over and over about digging and tossing about, all for hidey holes. It sounded almost cowardly to Hawkkit, not that he’d ever say so to Smogstripe, and especially not after that incident with Marshflower verbally slashing his ears and making him feel guilty for being snide about the Queens.
Hawkkit grumbled his thoughts away, feeling them break apart into vivid consciousness as an annoyingly sharp paw prodded his side. He knew from the get go that it was Eaglekit, by the bright and never-ending noise that came from the taller kit’s mouth. That, and the bleary image that the awakened Hawkkit could see. Calico fur and the exotic eyes, one green and one yellow. Only Eaglekit looked so strange.
“Eaglekit, wake me up one more time!” Hawkkit warned tiredly, grumpy and bitter as usual. He was too tired to notice just how active the den was. Sandkit was giggling excitedly with Redkit, while it seemed that Jaykit was consoling a saddened Rabbitkit and Quailkit, the clan’s youngest kits. Duskkit was as silent as ever, looking comfortable under the frantic grooming tongue of Froststorm.
It was only when a surge of Tunneling fathers poked their heads into the den that Hawkkit suddenly realized something. Eaglekit was exclaiming to him, shoving him to his paws.
“Shut it, tiny-paws! It’s the best day ever! Get up, get up! I don’t think we want to be held back by your nap!” He sneered, though it was clear that Eaglekit meant no ill will. Hawkkit would have swiped his paw furiously at the smirking kit, but he was still and buzzing with excitement as Mudstrike called from outside the den.
“Are the kits ready?”
Froststorm was clearly frazzled, having groomed her kits and helped Echofern keep track of the bouncing Sandkit for the fifth time. She snapped back at her mate.
“Oh hush! They’ve been ready for a while!”
It was a lie, but Hawkkit knew well and good that Froststorm hated to be rushed and disorganized, and especially to be shamed by her mate’s teasing remarks. Echofern was quick to loosen the tension, not that there was any. Mudstrike was used to his fierce mate, and was merely giving a snickering laugh.
Echofern cheered.
“Already old enough to be apprentices! My lovely kits, I’m so proud.” She purred and gazed at Jaykit and Sandkit, who beamed under her attention. Her gaze then traveled lovingly to Hawkkit. Even though Hawkkit merely snorted in embarrassment at the cooing words, deep down he could feel that spark of warmth, that he had brought pride to a clanmate, especially one who fostered him when his mother had died.
The deep and demanding call from Wolfstar for the clan to gather sparked a chain reaction. Jaykit was first to rush towards the nursery exit, though it was clear he was not a fast runner. Eaglekit had already caught up, and Sandkit’s mottled pelt squeezed against Eaglekit and Jaykit in a race to leave the den. Hawkkit took this chance to try and push his small frame past them, only to trip on Jaykit’s tail and topple the kits over into a big pile.
Smart little Redkit clambered over the pile of kits, successfully making it out of the den first, without even having to scuff up her reddish pelt. Only then did the four fallen kits disperse, Hawkkit shoving sourly past Jaykit to follow Sandkit up to where Wolfstar was sitting, tail twitching with impatience and face gleaming with pride as usual.
Duskkit peacefully took up the rear, not making a sound as he settled between his own foster siblings, Redkit and Eaglekit. Hawkkit made sure to sit near Sandkit, sharing a look of secret excitement with the small she-kit. The whole clan was gathering. His father and aunt had settled a few tail-lengths away, talking quietly with Darkstorm and Whitefur, a tunneler and moor-runner respectively. Also, two she-cats that were just as skilled and razor-focused as Marshflower. Hawkkit noticed his father looking at him. Hmph. Took him long enough.
Scarfur, Hawkfur, Runningbreeze, Ambertail, Kestrelbreeze, all these amazing moor-runners! Hawkkit quickly gazed at them all, tracing amber eyes then over Lionpaw and Hillpaw, who seemed to be more excited and prideful than the slouching apprentices next to them. They were the oldest apprentices in the clan, Hawkkit envied their time they spent training and fighting.
He whipped his head around to gaze upwards at his grandfather, Wolfstar finally continuing with a booming voice.
“Windclan was blessed with many kits in our nursery, many of whom shall become apprentices today. Windclan also will be announcing new warriors today! We are stronger than ever.” The large tom flicked his tail with smug determination, his words rippling the clan with pride and trailing attentions away from the lack of a healthy deputy. It was a tactic Hawkkit realized, and made him admire his grandfather even more.
“Duskkit, Jaykit, you two show the clear signs and desires to follow the ways of Tunneling. Therefore, you shall be known as Duskpaw and Jaypaw, and your mentors shall be Burrowheart and Tunnelmud, respectively.”
That had Jaypaw bristling in delight, eyes wide as the clan’s most senior tunneler padded up to the young tom, moving to touch noses with him. It was quite an honor to be mentored by him. Duskpaw had more of a calm and content reaction. Burrowheart was also a quiet cat, and while the silver and black she-cat was not muted like Duskpaw was, she clearly understood her apprentice’s nature better than most.
“That leaves us with Sandkit, Eaglekit, Redkit and Hawkkit, all who will follow in the ways of moor-running. I name you Sandpaw, Eaglepaw, Redpaw and Hawkpaw. Sandpaw, your mentor shall be Cherrydapple. Eaglepaw and Redpaw, you shall be mentored by Ambertail and Runningbreeze.”
Drat! Why did Redpaw get the most senior moor-runner? Runningbreeze was Tunnelmud’s brother, the brown furred moor-runner was wise, powerful and incredible. It seemed unfair that the shy and skinny Redpaw get him for her mentor. Ambertail was more understandable, to Hawkkit, for Eaglepaw. The ginger tabby she-cat was just as loud, energetic and annoying sometimes as him. A perfect match.
Sandpaw had received a cat that Hawkpaw felt was hard to read. Cherrydapple seemed dopey and frilly, always purring and always sweet-talking. But, she seemed secretive, always looking around with darting glances, and it seemed she was a great fighter, based on how the apprentices gossiped about the clan’s best sparring lessons.
Sandpaw deserves better than a bouncing furball with one too many secrets.
He thought sharply.
He pushed his bitter thoughts away as his name was finally called.
“Hawkpaw, you will be mentored by Scarfur.”
…
Hawkpaw didn’t react much at first. Scarfur was...well, she was certainly strong and fast, everything Hawkpaw hoped for in a mentor...but truthfully, she was as harsh if not more so than Marshflower. Hawkpaw found his face drooping in a faint scowl, but he knew he had no say in this. Fine. He could handle the scarred furball. He was Hawkpaw now! Windclan’s greatest apprentice. He could handle anything. He reached his muzzle up high to glare challengingly into Scarfur’s eyes. She didn’t budge, easily staring back, even able to add in quiet words.
“Don’t expect any give from me, Hawkpaw. I’m no pushover.” She warned.
“We’ll see about that.” Hawkpaw sneered, relishing in his mentor’s faint narrowing of eyes, as the clan cheered the names of the new apprentices.
Once Hawkpaw roughly snatched his nose away from his mentor, he watched enviously as Wolfstar called Hillpaw and Lionpaw forward. The strange spotted tom stood slim and short compared to the broad golden tabby shoulders of Lionpaw, but Hawkpaw knew better. Hillpaw was already one of the clan’s fastest cats behind Marshflower and Riversway, and boiled the other apprentices with envy. Well, most of them. Lionpaw was pure excitement and arrogance, puffing out his chest as he awaited his name. Hawkpaw rolled his eyes. Hillpaw and Lionpaw weren’t so great.
“Lionpaw, Hillpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and defend your clan, even at the cost of your lives?”
Both toms replied at the same time.
“I do.”
Wolfstar gave a toothy grin, continuing on.
“Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior names. Lionpaw, from this moment on you shall be known as Lionfur. Starclan honors your courage and strength. Hillpaw, you shall be known as Hillstrike. Starclan honors your speed and intelligence. You are now full warriors of Windclan.”
The clan erupted into cheers, Hawkpaw hardly lifting his voice above a sigh before Scarfur annoyingly nudged him. He scowled at his mentor, who cheered pointedly. Hawkpaw decided to humor her, shouting the names of the new warriors loudly and over-dramatically.
Once the cheering ceased, Wolfstar gave one last announcement.
“Keep your eyes out for any signs of Shadowclan. Newleaf may be upon us, but Starclan knows those slinking carrion-pelts will want to take more of our prey. Any and all signs of Shadowclan will be reported directly to me. Windclan will not be pushed around by Darkstar and his mange-pelts!” Wolfstar snarled heatedly.
“Yes!” Hawkpaw watched with bubbling excitement and readiness as a fierce moor-runner, Silentfeather, shot up and whipped her tail.
“Shadowclan’s never been anything more than cowards!”
Twistedpath joined in, cheering up to the leader, his grey tabby pelt spiked and his pale amber eyes blazing in agreement. Soon, a collective murmur of agreement rose in the clan, and Wolfstar seemed keen on relishing in the pure dedication and loyalty of the clan he worked lard to lead. Hawkpaw joined in on the rising cheers, ignoring the strangely quiet and frowning Scarfur. Whatever, if she wanted to be a Shadowclan sympathizer, more the reason for him to cheer his thoughts right into her face.
Soon, it was quiet once more, and the clan dispersed. Hawkpaw tried to follow after Cherrydapple and Runningbreeze, who were leading Sandpaw and Redpaw out of camp, but he had to hold in a furious hiss as Scarfur pulled him back with a paw.
“Are we going or not?” He demanded sharply, to which Scarfur merely shot back.
“Not if you’ll have this wretched attitude. And certainly not if you think we’ll be galloping around in a giant group over the moors when the Tunnelers are doing their work. Keep up with the eye-rolls and sneers, Hawkpaw, and you’ll be the last to tour the territory, and the first to change nests. Am I clear?”
Hawkpaw bristled at that, amber eyes narrowing into furious slits at the words of his mentor. The prospect of cleaning nests while the other apprentices got to explore the sprawling moors dug into his pride like talons. He gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Fine. I’m sorry. May we go?”
Scarfur flicked her tail, glancing as Ambertail bounced over, an equally excited Eaglepaw skipping at her heels. The young warrior announced.
“We’ll be joining you and Scarfur to go see the moors. You’ll probably see Redpaw and Sandpaw later in the day.” She offered.
Hawkpaw slouched. Well, at least on the bright side, he’d hopefully get to explore the territory with Sandpaw. She was the only cat that had any real brains and claws around here, anyway. He huffed lightly, feeling Eaglepaw nudge him excitedly. Great. Stuck with the clan’s biggest ball of foolishness. Well, at least Eaglepaw was fun to race, and could hold his own in a challenge, unlike Duskpaw, who could be so boring, or Redpaw, who was far too shy.
He found himself stomping after Scarfur and Ambertail, his anger only quelled by the delight of finally being able to explore the wonderful moors he had dreamed of for moons. He glanced at Eaglepaw when the calico tom mewed to Ambertail.
“Ambertail, are we going to do some running on the moors? Oh, please say we can! I want to run for hours!” The calico tom cheered at the idea, to which Ambertail’s ringed tail flicked in her own youthful excitement.
“Duh! What else would we teach you first?”
Hawkpaw felt a genuine smile creep up on his muzzle, more than happy to begin proving to the clan that he was already a force to be reckoned with. He’d run so fast that Marshflower and Hillstrike would gape in awe and trip over their own paws at the sight of his moor-running. Of course, as he realized what would be the case for the next moons of training, Scarfur interrupted his good thoughts to sour them with her boring response.
“Actually, it would be wiser to teach them about all the scents and about avoiding tunnels, don’t you think, Ambertail?”
The younger warrior flattened her ears sheepishly at Scarfur’s smart correction, and she apologized.
“Er, yeah. You’re totally right. Scents and tunnels first, running later. After we show you the borders and landmarks, then you can really start learning to run like a true moor-runner.”
Eaglepaw gave a deflated look, while Hawkpaw merely grumbled.
“Whatever. We could learn all that and how to run fast without all the stalling. Hmph. What musty scent are we going to have to remember first?” He demanded, ignoring Scarfur’s calm scowl and sharp voice as she replied.
“Rabbit scent. That musty scent is our prey, rabbit, and let me hear one more demand from you in that tone and you won’t be catching one until you’re 9 moons old. You can memorize the scents of mouse bile and moss instead.”
Hawkpaw wanted nothing more than to claw at his mentor’s stupid condescending face, but he knew doing that would incur the wrath of his grandfather, and not even Hawkpaw liked an angry Wolfstar. After all, Scarfur was one of his best warriors, and certainly one of his most influential advisers. So, with all his power, Hawkpaw managed to hold back his burst of rage and grit out.
“Rabbit. Got it…”
And that was that. With nothing else to drone about, Scarfur finally turned and began continuing the tour. Hawkpaw dragged his tail bitterly after her, scowling at the quiet snickers from both Eaglepaw and Ambertail. He hated being shamed in front of his clanmates. He snapped back at them, amber eyes narrowed.
“I thought this was a serious tour, not a giggle fest.”
All it did was earn him louder laughter, both the apprentice and warrior unable to stifle their humor any longer. Excellent. Those two were a match made in Starclan. Grunting with fury, he stormed away from them, following closer to Scarfur. He noticed they were going up a very large hill, and suddenly his anger began morphing into desperate curiosity. With a hill this high, there was no way he wouldn’t be able to see all the moors, all the territory he would train and bleed for to protect. It filled his heart with purpose and courage. His father’s words echoed in his head, from when he was a kit crying when his mother had died.
He smiled secretly at the cool wind, still chilled from the recent leafbare frost. Soon it would be new-leaf, but that wasn’t too important to Hawkpaw.
Cresting over the top of the hill, the four cats traced the skyline with their eyes. Hawkpaw had never seen a sight so...beautiful. It took his breath away, and all his annoyance and frustration ebbed away as he gazed wide-eyed across the sea of green and grey, moor and stone of what was clearly Highstones. Hawkpaw took it all in, paws itching with the instinctive need to launch himself down the hill and go soaring into a run across the sprawling grass. He could even see his clanmates!
Oh, that was Hawkfur running, his ragged pelt billowing as he sprinted with trained speed. A small brown tabby bolted after him, eyes wide with both excitement and worry. Dawnpaw, one of the younger apprentices, though, a bit older than Hawkpaw. She was always easy to spot from far away, her expressions were just bursting with emotions. Too many, in Hawkpaw’s opinion, but he supposed she was fun to be around.
Hawkpaw moved his gaze to a spot on the moors where dark holes littered the ground. Hmph, that surely must have been the Tunnelers and their work. He could easily make out the black and white fur of Frozenfang, who seemed to be padding around as the head of the midnight black furred Darkstorm kept poking out from the equally as dark tunnel entrances. Did they know Hawkpaw could see them from up here? Hawkpaw felt convinced that they wouldn’t have cared anyway.
Eaglepaw exclaimed next to him.
“Starclan! This is the most amazing sight I’ve ever seen! This all belongs to Windclan?” He stared at Ambertail with his jaws gaping and his multi-colored eyes wide with awe. Ambertail was quick to adopt the air of excitement going around, and even though she was and had been a warrior for a while, she seemed to find as much wonder in the moors as the two young toms did. She giggled.
“Yes! Everything you see, from here, to the Highstones, and from that gorge-” She pointed her long tail to the massive fissure in the moorland far away to the side.
“-to that narrow little Thunderpath, is Windclan territory.”
Ambertail flicked her tail now to the other far side of the moor, where a fur-thin line of dark material cut through the territory, marking what Hawkpaw assumed sourly was the cursed Shadowclan border.
Eaglepaw gasped in delight, giving a look of deep pride. He demanded.
“Well we have to see the borders now, right?”
Hawkpaw nodded in fierce agreement, and was content to know that Scarfur had been planning to take them to the borders anyway. The older she-cat merely gave a nod and hummed.
“Very well. Come, we have alot to tour in a rather short time. It’s still technically leafbare, so the days are shorter, and it can get very cold with the strong winds up here.”
She could say that again. While Hawkpaw had done well ignoring the sharp and cool wind, it still nipped at his ears and toes and made him tremble, his skinny frame not built as well as Eaglepaw’s to protect him against the cold. Either way, Hawkpaw would never admit his weaknesses, not to his mentor, and certainly not to Eaglepaw or Ambertail. The last thing he needed was to be laughed at by those stupid furballs again.
Reluctant to take his eyes off the view of his moorlands, Hawkpaw forced himself to turn tail and scramble after Scarfur, Ambertail and Eaglepaw, focusing on discovering everything else this territory had to offer. From then on, he had begun to truly feel like a Windclan warrior.
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 17, 2017 14:25:34 GMT -5
Chapter 4
It wasn’t like Hawkpaw loved Riverclan. But, he certainly appreciated the Riverclan border far more than the rancid Thunderpath that divided Windclan and Shadowclan. That, and Riverclan scents didn’t trace right up to Windclan territory like Shadowclan tried to. Clearly Riverclan had more honor.
The gorge was Hawkpaw’s new favorite spot, a long tear across the moors that surged with gushing water below. Riverclan depended on these rivers for their prey and survival. At least, that’s what Scarfur had droned to him in the past few days of training. He knew every scent from here to camp, making it a point to show up the other apprentices, er...rather try to at least. There was no way he could match Sandpaw’s quick thinking and memory. It annoyed him greatly, yet he found himself puffing up proudly when Sandpaw received bright praise from Cherrydapple and the other moor-runners.
Just so long as Hawkpaw was better than Redpaw and Eaglepaw, he’d be content.
Yes. Hawkpaw greatly admired being so high up and looking down at the gaping river, but what had stolen his attention away from the river was a call from another tom his age. This tom was down below him though, clearly standing on the Riverclan side and giving up an annoying sneer. Hawkpaw gave a deep scowl, only to glance over his shoulder as Scarfur padded up to his side. Their small hunt had been interrupted by the loud calling of the Riverclan tom, and Scarfur looked sour about that.
“You rabbit-chasers best not fall off the gorge now! The river can be real rough!”
The dark grey Riverclan tom called up. He was clearly an apprentice, and yet Hawkpaw found it scathingly hilarious how much this tom acted like a kit. He snapped down to him.
“And I suggest you not cause a rockfall with that ear-splitting noise coming from your jaws.”
He scathed, relishing in the other tom’s bristled fur and angered pout. The quick retort echoed up the gorge.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the wind knocked your twig legs from under you and tossed you down here. Maybe then you could say that to my face!”
Hawkpaw was about to spring down and slam claws into the other tom’s ugly mug, only to be held back by Scarfur’s tail. The calm warrior called down now, addressing the Riverclan tom.
“You look familiar. Ah. I remember now. Storkpaw. Riverclan’s newest apprentice. I saw you at the gathering...though you were much more mature when your name was being called. I suggest you move along before we consider your proximity to our border to be an act of invasion.”
Storkpaw stuck his tongue out, hissing at them.
“I’m on my side and have every right to be right here! So I suggest you move along before I go get my mentor and tell her that you threatened an innocent-”
Storkpaw was cut off by a furious and simply terrifying snarl and hiss from Scarfur, who clambered down a few stones and ledges into the gorge. His pale blue eyes widened at the spectacle from the Windclan warrior.
With all his bark, the Riverclan tom seemed to have not developed much of a bite yet, and he scrambled back in shock and fear at the Scarfur’s ferocity. He stumbled over his paws, and was soon fleeing back deeper into his territory.
Scarfur swished her tail with an annoyed sigh, quickly climbing back up the gorge to approach a simply stunned Hawkpaw. Wow! So his mentor really was as aggressive as the clan claimed! That had been amazing to watch, seeing her chase off another clan’s cat with a simple hiss. He beamed with a sneer.
“And here I thought you were boring and weak.”
“Watch it, Hawkpaw. I lost my prey, and I’m not in the mood for immature toms and silly border squabbles. Come on, we may as well look for that rabbit again. Don’t expect me to do that alot...It’s not as nice a feeling as you may think.” The grey and white she-cat stalked past Hawkpaw, who had been furiously shot down at his first attempt to actually compliment her. Fine, let the old furball be mopey and snappy. She could find another stupid apprentice to compliment her if she didn’t want his praise.
He stomped after her, kicking a stone into the gorge before he left.
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Just their luck. They had managed to catch the rabbit, but not before clouds swelled darkly and dropped showers of icy cold rain upon the moors. Newleaf may have been upon the clans, but the air was still cold from Leafbare, and rain was the last thing the clan needed now.
Hawkpaw was relieved to return back to camp, shaking his dark brown fur and tracing his amber eyes across the empty camp. No doubt cats were sheltering under the gorse walls. In fact, he could see most of the moor-runner apprentices now, settled under overhanging gorse near the medicine den. He made his way over, spotting Flamepaw’s deep ginger fur, as well as Sandpaw and Eaglepaw’s excited postures. Even Dawnpaw and Crowpaw were there, two apprentices that were a bit older than himself.
Once Hawkpaw pushed himself into the gorse, he was immediately waved over by Sandpaw, who quickly scooted over to offer him a seat between her and Dawnpaw. Dawnpaw was slightly less welcoming, but smiling in his direction either way. Once he slowly took his seat between the two she-cats, Dawnpaw was chattering.
“Hawkpaw, you missed it. Flamepaw just told us the best part of this story, of a battle with Shadowclan!” The bubbly apprentice beamed, her amber eyes flickering between him and Flamepaw.
Hawkpaw merely gave a snort.
“Hmph. Sounds like any other story.”
Dawnpaw scowled at that, but it was clear she was not genuinely angry. Even she was used to his attitude, having been his denmate for moons, and she simply scoffed.
“With attitudes like that, you’ll become the most boring cat in the clans. Come on, it’s about your aunt, anyway.”
That did interest Hawkpaw. He was too proud to say it aloud, but he did like hearing about Marshflower and the other moor-runners. She was a good fighter, just like his mentor and Hawkfur and Riversway too, to name a few. He swiveled his ears to face them towards Flamepaw, who spoke excitedly about her own mentor.
“Marshflower and I were back to back, and one of the Shadowclan apprentices was about to get me, but she yanked that tom off my back so hard that he went skidding into the mud! He looked like a pinecone.”
Flamepaw’s exuberant voice sounded as she used her body to perform the mock moves of the battle. Ginger tabby fur swished in action as the older apprentice snickered.
“Then that’s when Wolfstar led his tunnelers in for backup. You couldn’t tell now that he’s leader, but Wolfstar clearly favored a tunneler’s fighting style. His strikes were so strong and he took hits like a rock! He called over Tunnelmud and Mudstrike, they surrounded Darkstar, and the Shadowclan leader had no choice but to retreat! We got Shadowclan away from our territory, that’s for sure!” Flamepaw finished excitedly.
“Woah, woah, wait. How long had you been an apprentice when the battle happened?”
Eaglepaw demanded, eyes wide as he shuffled with glee from hearing of his father, Mudstrike, fighting so diligently with Wolfstar.
Flamepaw merely gave a slight smirk as she laughed.
“2 moons in. My first big battle, and we won. Now I’m nearly 5 moons into my apprenticeship, so it wasn’t too long ago.” She explained.
Hawkpaw let the information sweep into his brain, and he could imagine how strong Wolfstar and his warriors were to send Darkstar and Shadowclan on retreat. He gave his own proud smirk. Of course his aunt and grandfather had fought so well. His kin were simply built for it, as was he.
And he’d surely prove it soon.
This time it was Sandpaw that spoke, making it a point to glance at all the other apprentices as she purred.
“Soon it’ll be us out there, chasing off Shadowclan furballs and standing back to back with our mentors and clanmates in battle. It gives you all kinds of feelings. Like hope and courage!”
Like a beaming light, her bright words seemed to warm up the rain-dripped gorse hollow, and even the rather reserved and gruff Crowpaw was starting to speak along. Hawkpaw supposed it was because Crowpaw was incredibly dedicated to his training. Wolfstar himself was his mentor after all, so Crowpaw did have a reason to feel rather proud.
“Well, I just hope Wolfstar lets me stand at his side when I go into my first battle. I’m more than ready...I know it.”
And there was Crowpaw’s strict determination, but the tom was quite quickly nudged by Dawnpaw, who gave her close friend a supportive yet exasperated look. Hawkpaw knew that Dawnpaw heard Crowpaw’s exclamations more than anyone. Hawkpaw had to remind himself with a hint of annoyance and an eye-roll that the two were closer than ticks on a pelt.
Dawnpaw and Crowpaw had bonded in a rather dark way. Both had lost their parents young, as well as a sister, in Crowpaw’s case, during kithood. The Greencough that had taken Daisytail had taken quite alot from the two older apprentices as well. Dawnpaw and Crowpaw always seemed to be together, and while Hawkpaw found it rather silly, he did not outright exclaim so...not often, at least.
Dawnpaw shook her head.
“I’m sure Wolfstar will let you fight, but you better make sure the rest of us are included too. If you’re fighting, Crowpaw, then so am I.” Dawnpaw shared that bright spark that Sandpaw had, yet Dawnpaw had directed it almost solely on Crowpaw. The tom seemed a bit baffled, but nodded quickly. He then gave a sharp look at Hawkpaw, Sandpaw and the other younger apprentices.
“I’ll see if you can go, Dawnpaw...but no promises for the kits.”
“Hey!” That set Redpaw into faint indignation, though her annoyance was weak. Eaglepaw’s sharp snort was far more vocal, as the tom snickered.
“I’m easily gonna be bigger than you within a moon or two, Crowpaw, and certainly larger than Dawnpaw. Windclan needs strong warriors, and soon you’ll be the ones looking like kits.” The calico tom bragged, earning a deep scowl from Crowpaw and Dawnpaw.
Sandpaw’s humored giggle pulled Hawkpaw out of his heated rage at Crowpaw’s comment, and he felt himself relaxing only slightly as Sandpaw remedied the situation quickly.
“Look, we all know I’ll be the best fighter in this den, so there’s no need to fight about it. Hmph. Toms, always trying to show off when they clearly are outmatched by the she-cats.” Sandpaw snarked. Dawnpaw had to stifle her own proud giggle as Redpaw and Flamepaw shared a knowing and humored look.
“Cheek!” Eaglepaw shuffled over to stand next to Hawkpaw, his multi-colored eyes glancing back over to Crowpaw.
“The she-cats are turning against us. Come my bird-named brothers! We shall vanquish the she-cats in a show of speed and-”
Up until then the only sound heard from outside the gorse overhang was the rushing of rain and the whistle of sharp winds. But, just then, a bone-chilling cry tore through the downpour, that curved off into a pained and furious yowl. Hawkpaw’s eyes widened slightly, and he could faintly hear the splash of paws racing through camp, the sounds of warriors rushing out of their protection to gather towards the source of the deep cry.
In an instant, Hawkpaw himself felt his pelt soak with rain as he stomped out of the apprentice’s den, Sandpaw, Eaglepaw, Dawnpaw and Crowpaw quick on his heels. Hawkpaw knew that cry, even in the rain. He knew that voice, and by Crowpaw’s shocked look, so did he.
Their rush over towards Wolfstar’s den was cut short when a large shape blocked their path. Smogstripe stood strong at the den’s entrance, as though he was holding off the clan from entering his father’s den. Hawkpaw could see his father was visibly troubled, hunched over and more distraught than ever.
As Hawkpaw’s clanmates clambered around, Hawkpaw was quick to snap up at Smogstripe.
“Hey! What’s the big idea? We heard Wolfstar call out. Let me see!” He demanded. He then gave a deep growl as his father pushed him back, shaking his head.
“Go back...go back to the gorse walls, all of you. This is not something you need to see right now.”
“Well since you said it like that, then it clearly is!” Crowpaw’s frantic snap in reply was cut silent by Smogstripe’s dangerous flash of his eyes at Crowpaw. The young tom bristled, and Dawnpaw gave a defensive look at Smogstripe, before the warrior demanded more sharply this time.
“I said clear out! It’s already crowded enough, we don’t need apprentices bouncing around and causing problems, you hear me?”
Hawkpaw gave a hearty hiss.
“We just wanted to see what the problem was!”
Smogstripe stood tall again, blue eyes blazing with anger at being disobeyed, jaws open to raise his voice at his son, rain splattering from everywhere, only to stop dead as a dark mass shoved its way out of the leader’s den, furiously dragging another mass in its jaws.
Wolfstar’s silhouette lit up as lightning blasted in the sky, only for a moment. Even so, it was enough to make out the leader hunching over what was clearly the body of Hazelfern. Even in the pouring rain, she did not move a muscle, though the storm and Wolfstar’s actions had caused the circling group of Windclan warriors to stumble back in shock and terror. Wolfstar had dropped Hazelfern’s body in the center of camp, ignoring the rain and pressing close to his mate’s prone form.
Hawkpaw hardly registered Eaglepaw’s cry of dismay, or Sandpaw and Dawnpaw’s sharp gasps. He was too busy staring at his leader, who was shaking violently, teeth bared in loss and fury. Hawkpaw was no idiot.
Hazelfern was dead, wasn’t she?
“This is how you repay our loyalty?!”
Wolfstar’s frenzied shout towards the sky silenced the clan. He ranted, clearly broken over the death of his beloved mate and deputy. His teeth flashed when lightning lit up the camp once more, and Hawkpaw nearly trembled at the savage and raw look his leader was giving.
“You allow my deputy to suffer for so long, only to now call her to your ranks? When she has given everything to honor you? How dare you!”
The leader was clearly cursing up to Starclan, but Hawkpaw was convinced the rain and thunder was drowning out any kind of plea or accusation tonight. Wolfstar’s claws were tearing up soaked grass and mud with a kind of brutality, taking his anger out the only way he knew how.
The clan could only watch speechlessly as their leader gave sharp cries of agony over the loss of the Windclan Deputy. Hawkpaw faintly realized why Smogstripe had seemed so distraught. Why his father was now seated with his head bowed in miserable silence, too drained to continue ordering the apprentices away. To say that bothered Hawkpaw deeply was an understatement.
The aching scene was interrupted by Foxstep, who led Brownfur towards Wolfstar and Hazelfern. Foxstep’s voice croaked with age, yet also with a knowing experience. She had seen this before, and Hawkpaw wondered how many cats Foxstep had to help bury in all her moons. The old medicine cat spoke calmly.
“Wolfstar...Hazelfern is gone, and we should not leave her body to be soiled by the rain, but also it is imperative you choose a new deputy.”
Wolfstar’s head snapped up with such ferocity that Hawkpaw feared his grandfather had broken his own neck. Instead, the hunched leader gave a dark snarl.
“You expect me to choose a cat to replace her? There are none! No cat was as suited as Hazelfern! I...I won’t!”
Foxstep was determined, standing and keeping Wolfstar’s gaze. In this moment, Hawkpaw was chilled by how defeated Wolfstar sounded. Perhaps Hazelfern was not as close to Hawkpaw as he thought...because Hawkpaw internally agreed with Foxstep. Windclan could not be brought down from this, no matter how stubborn Wolfstar was, or how tragic the scenario was. Hazelfern had indeed been a strong deputy. Had.
Foxstep continued lightly.
“It’s well past moonhigh, and the next gathering is in less than two days...Windclan needs you now just as much as you needed Hazelfern...she would not like to see you defeated from this. Windclan has needed a new deputy for a long time.”
“You! Are you disrespecting Hazelfern’s honor?” Wolfstar accused sharply, claws extending dangerously, before the medicine cat sharply replied.
“If anything, I’m telling you to honor her the best way you ever could, by keeping Windclan strong, like she always vowed to do. Listen to me this time, please…”
The rain was once again the only noise gracing the Windclan camp after the medicine cat had spoken her last words. The leader was silent, clearly stewing in raw emotion as the words had to have grazed his sense of duty to the clan. He sheathed his claws slowly, as though losing the fight in his body. Wolfstar pressed his body closely to Hazelfern’s, blinked a few times, and then muttered quietly.
Foxstep tipped her head, as the rest of the clan glanced at eachother with nervous and confused eyes.
At the lack of response, Wolfstar’s violent snap startled Hawkpaw and the rest of the clan as he shouted.
“Are you all deaf? I said, your new deputy will be Cherrydapple!”
That sparked a response, certainly for Hawkpaw, who tensed in shock. Cherrydapple? Swoony, secretive Cherrydapple? She...she was hardly special or fit for the job! Starclan, even Ambertail seemed more qualified than her!
Even so, any surprise was met with Wolfstar’s dark sneer.
“You asked for my choice, and you got it. Cherrydapple will be the new deputy of Windclan.” His sharp blue gaze glanced over to the wide-eyed warrior. She swallowed heavily, but gave a faint nod of understanding. Gathering herself, Cherrydapple exclaimed.
“I will do all I can to serve Windclan as your deputy…”
Hawkpaw nearly bared his teeth at her lack of assurance. Her posture was one of nervousness, akwardness. If she was to be deputy, she surely needed to at least pretned she was strong enough to take Hazelfern’s place. Hawkpaw was then suspicious of the fact that Wolfstar chose her of all cats, instead of one of his kits, or even one of his former apprentices, like Kestrelbreeze.
The clan seemed to finally accept it, giving small murmers while some of the Moor-runners congratulated Cherrydapple, though Hawkpaw could easily tell the mourning of Hazelfern was overpowering the news of a new deputy. Hawkpaw had seen enough. He turned to look back at Smogstripe.
Only to see his father had left to pad up to Wolfstar’s side, Marshflower following with a dull look. The siblings pressed close to their mother’s body. Hawkpaw wondered if he too was supposed to join them. Deep down, he felt it was wrong to for some reason. He hardly interacted with Hazelfern, never really knew her like some cats must have expected him to.
So when he turned to return to the gorse, he was not surprised when Sandpaw stopped him and gazed at him with sad blue eyes. He hated seeing her sad.
“I...I’m sorry, Hawkpaw. About Hazelfern…” Hawkpaw was just appreciative that Sandpaw was more focused on his feelings than bouncing over to congratulate her silly mentor for becoming next in line for leadership. Hawkpaw shrugged, not sure what his voice sounded like as he mewed.
“It’s fine. Real bad timing, and a pitiful replacement, but it’ll be fine...Come on. I really don’t want to sit out here.” He glanced back at his father, who payed no mind to anything but the body before him, before he sneered quietly, ushering a reluctant Sandpaw back with the other shaky apprentices. He’d never admit of really understand the deep heaviness in his heart just then.
“There’s a lot of work to be done without all the moping.”
The gorse swallowed the apprentices much like the rain swallowed the voices of the clan, and the stars had swallowed the life away from Hazelfern...
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 17, 2017 17:54:08 GMT -5
Chapter 5
Two days had passed since the death of Hazelfern, and Hawkpaw knew the clan was still recovering from the harsh blow to their cycle of life. Even when she was ill, Hazelfern had the respect of her clanmates. Which was more than Hawkpaw could say for Cherrydapple.
The clan had already whispered about her alot. They knew she was hush-hush about something, and even Hawkpaw could see in Cherrydapple’s actions and flickering of her eyes that she had all kinds of things in her head that she wasn’t planning on saying. What’s worse was that she was getting so focused on deputy duties now that Sandpaw hadn’t trained with her recently. Runningbreeze had taken her out with Redpaw instead. To give the mousebrained deputy some time to get used to her new rank.
Hawkpaw hoped Sandpaw would get back to training normally soon. As much as Hawkpaw disliked Cherrydapple, the warrior did seem to truly make Sandpaw feel strong and comfortable, and a happy Sandpaw was a funny Sandpaw, and a funny Sandpaw was the Sandpaw who made Hawkpaw scrunch his nose just a little bit less.
Just a little bit.
Hawkpaw shook the thoughts from his mind. He needed to focus on here and now! Wolfstar had clambered to the center of camp to gather Windclan. Hawkpaw knew the leader was going to choose cats to take to the gathering tonight, and he was confident he would be going, being a new apprentice and being the fact that Wolfstar was obsessed with flaunting off all the new warriors and apprentices Windclan accumulated.
Once the clan gathered to witness the dark furred and now rather hunched and scowling leader, Wolfstar began grumbling out names.
“Scarfur, Riversway, Ambertail, Kestrelbreeze and Hillstrike will be the moor-runners attending. Tunnelmud, Smogstripe, Molenose, Burrowheart and Lionfur will be the accompanying tunnelers. Cherrydapple and myself are of course attending. Lastly, due to there being so many, the apprentices attending will only consist of the youngest apprentices. Hawkpaw, Redpaw, Eaglepaw, Sandpaw, Jaypaw and Duskpaw. The rest of you will guard camp diligently.” He finished with a simple lash of his tail before he turned to pad heavily towards the gorse entrance.
Hawkpaw gave a smirk of smug pride as he whisked past a disappointed Leafpaw and Dawnpaw to shuffle his way into the small group of apprentices that were now gathering in excitement.
Redpaw gave a quiet purr.
“Looks like it’s just us. I hope the other apprentices don’t get to mad.”
Jaypaw gave a snicker, his pale eyes gleaming with excitement as he replied to the small she-cat’s nervous words.
“Who cares? We’re going to our first gathering! That means we’ll get to meet the other clans and maybe even get some good gossip we can use against those other clans!”
“Like Shadowclan! Yes. We could totally spy on their apprentices and get some information for the next battle. Those lizard-eaters won’t know what hit them.” Eaglepaw butted in with a toothy grin, flicking his tail as he shuffled his paws excitedly in wait for the clan to file out of the camp.
While the other apprentices chatted, Sandpaw nudged both Hawkpaw and Duskpaw, who was silently watching his peers with curious eyes. The mute tunneler turned and gave a polite nod of question to Sandpaw as Hawkpaw asked.
“Mm? What’s wrong, Sandpaw?”
Sandpaw shook her head playfully at the toms as she giggled. Her blue eyes sparkled with that constant mischief that made Hawkpaw feel ready for anything. She mused.
“It’s nothing bad. I was just thinking about what kind of cats we’ll meet, or how Cherrydapple will do now that she’ll have to be the one at the gatherings instead of Hazelfern…”
Hawkpaw’s response was cut short by the movement of the clan starting to leave the camp for the gathering. Hawkpaw twinged with excitement, and he brushed Sandpaw’s words off as he promised.
“We’ll just see what happens when we get there. Come on, Sandpaw, Duskpaw, I don’t want to be the last one there.” He stood, moving quickly to catch up with Scarfur, who was padding side by side with Riversway. As soon as the young tom caught up, Riversway gave a humored look and veered off to join Ambertail and Molenose in his usual bouts of flirtatious socializing. Hmph, what a sly fox.
Sandpaw and Duskpaw moved to join the other apprentices, but Hawkpaw was determined to get there up front near Scarfur, who seemed to be one of the first to leave camp. She knew the way so easily, and Hawkpaw almost envied her long warriorhood. He hoped one day he’d live as long, if not longer than she would.
Fourtrees certainly looked the same as it did when he first toured it, but as Hawkpaw’s paws carried him over hills and grass towards the gathering place, he could certainly feel a different air to it. The moon blazed with light high above in Silverpelt, giving the massive trees a daunting yet elegant silhouette. The closer Windclan approached, the more obvious it was that the activity there was booming. Hawkpaw’s ears swiveled in interest as he heard the loud and clear chatter of warriors and apprentices of all shapes and sizes. His heart pumped with adrenaline. He was ready for this.
Wolfstar and Windclan’s arrival was met with simple chatter and quick glances and greetings. Hawkpaw almost stopped walking to simply take in the scene. Scents overwhelmed his glands, and he had to focus deeply to organize them all. It seemed Eaglepaw and Jaypaw had the same issue, looking like open-jawed kits in the wake of the gathering.
Hawkpaw breathed to Scarfur.
“Starclan. I didn’t think it would be this crowded…”
“Well, we are the last ones here, it seems. Look, Hawkpaw. See those four cats over there?” His mentor’s gruff voice filled his ears as his gaze was directed to below the Fourtrees, where four powerful looking cats resided. Hawkpaw gave each one a long look.
Scarfur continued with a quiet yet strong voice as she introduced the cats who Hawkpaw assumed bitterly, were the other leaders of the other clans.
“The tom with the golden fur and lighter streaks is Cometstar, leader of Thunderclan. He’s rather noble, yet I personally find that he could be a bit more forceful if he tried a bit harder.” Scarfur’s scathing snort made Hawkpaw smirk lightly in agreement. At least his mentor was able to mock their enemies if she didn’t want to physically fight them. Hawkpaw made sharp note of how easily Cometstar was talking to the other leaders, clearly more friendly than his companions. Friendliness could lead to foolish trust. Hawkpaw kept note of that before Scarfur continued.
“The grey dappled tom that’s towering over Nightstar is Stonestar. He’s solid and stern, personally a leader I’ve come to respect greatly. He can be quite stifling though, so don’t let him get in your space without a good fight.”
Hawkpaw nodded sharply at that. Let the fat Riverclan oaf come sticking his nose near him, Hawkpaw would show him how badly a good slash could hurt. Hawkpaw was quick to notice that the slender yet clearly unwavered looking midnight black she-cat in front of Stonestar was Nightstar. He asked.
“She’s flicked her eyes around more than a kit looking after a fly. Is that Nightstar?”
Scarfur gave a nod and narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Yes. Nightstar is a new leader, and so far seems to exude both righteousness and assurance . Skyclan has always had exuberant and open leaders, but Nightstar’s rather unique. Considering she used to belong to Riverclan. See, Stonestar’s rather tense just talking to her... Careful though. She’s got fast reflexes. I would know.”
Hawkpaw gritted his teeth at that. A Riverclan cat leading Skyclan? Pft, it was as if anyone could be tossed a leadership position just for looking pretty or something. What a joke.
For now, his amber eyes trailed and planted darkly on the last leader, who was poised with both grace and danger. Of course, the dark furred tom had no facial expression that showed any kind of danger, but Hawkpaw knew better. His eyes narrowed sharply as Scarfur lashed her tail.
“You’re looking at Darkstar. Cunning, awfully intelligent, Shadowclan have put their trust in a highly capable cat. Currently, Wolfstar and Darkstar have tense relations, as seen by Shadowclan and Windclan interaction.” She looked around, and Hawkpaw followed suit, suddenly realizing that the cats that scented like Shadowclan seemed to be staying away from Windclan cats, and Windclan cats were whispering and shooting shaded looks at the Shadowclan cats. Huh. Talk about a gathering of peace, huh?
Hawkpaw returned his attention to Darkstar as he muttered sharply.
“Scarfur, he’s nothing special. He’s as pathetic as the rest of Shadowclan.” He assured, and Scarfur only rolled her eyes, flicking an ear and reminded with a calm growl.
“Don’t you ever underestimate anyone, Hawkpaw. You’d lose in a heartbeat if you faced the other clans in a battle right now.”
Hawkpaw hissed.
“What’s that supposed to-”
Cut off once more, Scarfur snapped with stern promise.
“Know when to hold your tongue and read your opponents. A warrior who mocks their opponent is the one who loses the most battles, on the battlefield, and in explaining your sorry defeat to your leaders and senior warriors. No more comments, Hawkpaw. Gatherings are a time to learn about the other clans. To learn if they’re foolish enough to give up any secrets. Got it?”
The boiling fury in Hawkpaw’s eyes simmered at the idea of playing another clan’s warriors and apprentices for fools. He focused on Scarfur’s advice to weaken the other clans through acting and observation. She was right. No use in making a fool of himself when he could get cats like Storkpaw to yap off secrets and lead Windclan to victory. Hawkpaw threw out his former anger and gave a knowing grin to Scarfur, who nodded back in what almost looked like relief.
“Go on.” Scarfur urged, pointing her tail to where Redpaw was sitting awkwardly and almost nervously next to clearly older Skyclan, Riverclan and Thunderclan apprentices.
“Redpaw would fare better with Windclan company, and you would fare well hearing the righteous bragging of apprentices from other clans, hm?”
“Yes, Scarfur.” Hawkpaw waved his tail in smirking glee as he sauntered courageously through crowds of cats and approaching the group of apprentices. Redpaw seemed immensely relieved, quickly scooting close to Hawkpaw when he settled himself down in a regal looking seating position.
The group of apprentices reacted differently. A light brown tabby she-cat who scented thickly of Riverclan gave a welcoming smile to Hawkpaw.
“Hey! Another Windclan apprentice. I’m Cottonpaw, of Riverclan. The blue and silver she-cat next to me is Fogpaw. She’s pretty tough, so watch out!” She introduced, and Hawkpaw found himself sizing up Fogpaw, who was doing exactly the same to him, until the other Riverclan she-cat shrugged and gave a simple greeting. Hawkpaw faked an interested look and greeted her right back.
“I’m Viperpaw! Pretty new to this gathering thing, but I’m sure I can manage! I like your coat, it’s kinda like mine. Well, without the stripes. Same eye color too! Sorry, that was weird. Er, yeah, I’m from Skyclan, nice to meet you!”
A scraggly brown tom with white paws and amber eyes was bouncing a bit on his toes as he approached Hawkpaw with the same energy Dawnpaw exuded. He was awfully chatty, but Hawkpaw was relieved this skinny tom wasn’t as suspicious as his leader seemed to be. Viperpaw, of Skyclan, Fogpaw and Cottonpaw of Riverclan. He was quick to keep these names in his mind.
“Nice to meet you?” Hawkpaw responded, hoping he sounded as stupid and friendly as Viperpaw and Cottonpaw. At least he was comforting Redpaw, who wasn’t looking as alone and shaky now.
His thoughts returned to the last two cats in front of him, clearly apprentices of Thunderclan due to their scent. One was another brown tabby, with white paws and amber eyes. He looked like Viperpaw actually, but Hawkpaw knew this tom was Thunderclan. And he also liked this cat the best so far, as the tom merely grunted and gave an exasperated sigh.
“Dogpaw. Thunderclan.” He introduced, short and...not so sweet, but the best approach, in Hawkpaw’s opinion. The tom next to him had a pale ginger pelt with golden paws, and his green eyes were wide with calm apology.
“Pardon Dogpaw’s rudeness. He’s a new apprentice, not used to these gatherings much either.”
“Shut it, Burnpaw. I’m perfectly fine.” Dogpaw huffed as he shot who Hawkpaw now knew as Burnpaw a scowling look. Burnpaw merely quirked his muzzle into a grin as he chuckled.
“Relax, Dogpaw, it’s fine. Yes, as you just heard, I’m Burnpaw. Er...I can tell I’m quite older than all of you.” It was true, by how the tom was more muscular and taller than the rest of the group, even though Riverclan’s cats were usually always pretty large.
“And I am also from Thunderclan. My sister was here a while ago, but I think Duskpaw went off to pester Blackberry. Baaad idea.” Burnpaw snorted.
Dogpaw merely sighed and wrapped his tail around his paws, as Hawkpaw took this time to introduce himself.
“I’m Hawkpaw, an apprentice of Windclan. It’s my first gathering too, Viperpaw. And Redpaw’s here. I was real excited to meet the other clans.” Hawkpaw started off, making sure to keep a close eye on the other apprentice’s reactions and expressions. He needed to sound and look as innocent as possible if he wanted the other clans to let their guards down.
“Hi Hawkpaw! It’s really cool, isn’t it? I was just talking to some Shadowclan apprentices, er...I think their names were Mistypaw and Softpaw. Yeah, but they said it was their first gathering too!” Bingo. Hawkpaw gave a grin as Viperpaw chatted with excited bubbles of conversation. He could use this jumpy Skyclan tom to spill Shadowclan secrets.
He also could tell by the way Burnpaw’s ears flicked that the Thunderclan apprentice was also interested. But, finders keepers, and Hawkpaw was quick to give a little bounce of his own as he mewed.
“Really? I haven’t talked to Shadowclan yet. What did those two talk to you about?” He wondered, and felt his belly twist in anticipation as Viperpaw opened his jaws to answer.
Only for a strong yowl to pierce the air, signaling what Hawkpaw assumed was the start of the gathering. Viperpaw quickly snapped his jaws shut and squealed with excitement, before he bounded off towards the other Skyclan apprentices. Hawkpaw gave a low grumble of disappointment, but directed his gaze up towards the Fourtrees, Redpaw seated close to him as she breathed in wonder.
“I wonder what leader will speak first…”
Hawkpaw gave a hum of agreement, thought his and Redpaw’s curiosities were answered when Cometstar lifted his tail from atop the large gathering stone. Hawkpaw noticed quickly how Stonestar sat all the way on the other side of the five leaders, eyes sharply trained on Cometstar. Nightstar sat comfortably in the center, clearly providing a physical barrier between Wolfstar and Darkstar. Between the four toms, it was the she-cat who sat with the calmest and most assured posture. Hawkpaw wondered if she knew that the leaders around her were racked with tense relations while Skyclan sat high and pretty.
Cometstar opened the gathering, as he mewed.
“The gathering can now commence. Thunderclan will speak first. I am pleased to announce that we have new apprentices and warriors. Dogpaw, Hailpaw and Wolfpaw will begin training, and Blackberry and Whitefox have passed their warrior assessments.” He paused to allow the clan cats below to cheer for the new apprentices and warriors. Hawkpaw glanced towards Dogpaw, who seemed to slightly push out his chest in pride. Hawkpaw half-heartedly joined in, but quickly got tired of that.
Cometstar continued.
“Prey is returning to the forest after the harsh leafbare, and one of our border patrols successfully chased off a Badger, so we ask the other clans to be careful of Badgers. Thunderclan is also more than capable of defending our borders.” The noble tom cast a meaningful glance at Stonestar, who merely narrowed his eyes and flicked his thick tail sharply, but that was the most of his reaction.
Cometstar stepped back, not having too much news to announce, which allowed Stonestar to move forwards, clearly not caring if the others had planned to go next. The large grey dappled tom scanned down along the mass of cats, jaws opening as his deep voice echoed through the area.
“Riverclan is doing excellent in these moons. We also have new apprentices and warriors to announce. Cottonpaw, Fogpaw, Springpaw, Poolpaw and Ripplepaw are our new apprentices, and Loonspots, Ratshadow, Echosplash and Lilypetal have all passed their assessments.”
Another pause for cheers and for self-righteous chest puffs, and Hawkpaw found himself getting exasperated. Get on with the real drama!
Stonestar’s voice grew both stern and calm as he announced.
“Riverclan have had little issue with prey, even in the coldest of leaf-bare, and are fed well. Two of our queens are expecting kits, and Ashpaw has also earned his name as a full medicine cat, Ashdapple, under the skilled training of Aspenshade. Riverclan is also fully capable in border patrols and will not tolerate trespassing or foolishness.” Stonestar easily glanced back at Cometstar, causing the other large tom to bristle slightly, but remain seated in the context of a peaceful gathering.
Hawkpaw found it a bit grating to hear the small bout of laughter coming from Nightstar, who casually sauntered forwards and took her place as the next leader to speak. Small whispers could be heard, and Hawkpaw noticed Fogpaw giving a small glare, and a few Riverclan warriors lashing their tails. Clearly there was still a sour mood due to a Riverclan borne cat leaving to join and lead Skyclan.
Nightstar didn’t seem bothered by the mutters, instead lifting her muzzle and speaking clearly and strongly.
“As nice as this rivalry square between you toms is, I stand here to announce that Skyclan is faring perfectly well this moon. With great honor, I received my nine lives and plan to lead Skyclan with honor, strength and dedication.” Hawkpaw nearly rolled his eyes, as the Skyclan cats around him lifted their heads. Hm. They seemed to trust their new leader alot, even if she was not born there.
Nightstar made no move to see any reactions before she mewed smoothly.
“I have chosen Shadowpelt as my deputy, and I know she will fare the duties well. We have new apprentices, Viperpaw, Whitepaw and Springpaw, and while there are no new warriors to announce, Skyclan will continue to train our older apprentices with the utmost skill and care. Oh, yes. Cometstar, we recently have had issues with Badgers on our territory as well, so Skyclan wishes you the best of luck in taking care of your own as dutifully as we have ours.”
And if that wasn’t a smart jibe, Hawkpaw didn’t know what was. So far, he was liking Nightstar the best out of these leaders, other than Wolfstar of course. It was humorous to watch Cometstar holding back a retort with a forced and polite nod of acceptance to the relaxed she-cat. Nightstar spoke again.
“That is all. Wolfstar, Darkstar?” She stepped back, leaving the two other dark furred leaders to stare at eachother in the most suspenseful staring match Hawkpaw had ever seen...that was, until Wolfstar simply narrowed his eyes with tired annoyance and muttered something, to which Darkstar curled his tail in simple acceptance.
The Shadowclan leader moved to speak, and Hawkpaw narrowed his eyes as he observed Darkstar’s piercing eyes and languid movements. He ignored the murmurs of the clearly angered Shadowclan cats across the gathering, and Darkstar was then speaking.
“Shadowclan is pleased to announce that we have many new apprentices and warriors. Mistypaw, Softpaw and Rainpaw are beginning their training, and Maplefern and Raggedthorn have passed their assessments and are now full warriors of Shadowclan.”
Cheers, though this time the Shadowclan warriors were finally using their full voices, to nobody’s surprise. Hawkpaw glowered at the rat-pelts in their stupor, and kept listening to the Shadowclan leader.
“Shadowclan’s prey has run well so far, and rightfully so to feed our growing nursery. But...the more important topic on my mind is on the matter of our borders.” Darkstar’s voice grew as cold as a leafbare night, and his eyes glistened as he looked directly at Wolfstar.
“Shadowclan tolerates no threats to our borders, or our safety and way of life. We are giving you a clear warning at this time in honor of the truce, but know that the moment we have another squabble on the border, Wolfstar, we will be swift to the tooth and claw.”
Hawkpaw sprang up, teeth bared and eyes blazing as he witnessed the Shadowclan leader blatantly threaten Wolfstar and Windclan. Redpaw was quick to usher him to calm down, though she herself was slightly bristled from the warning. Hawkpaw was certainly glad when he saw not only his denmates, but the older warriors bristling and hissing at Darkstar’s words, while the Shadowclan warriors growled approvingly and glared right back.
“Hah! You talk big, yet it’s always Shadowclan that crosses borders and steals prey first!” The harsh and sneering cry of Burrowheart sent the gathering into a chorus of argument and agreement, Hawkpaw cheering his support to the fearless Tunneler.
A few of the Shadowclan cats spat back insults, and it seemed like things were going to get physical.
That was, until Wolfstar’s famously loud and booming voice echoed through the Fourtrees.
“That’s enough! All of you! I refuse to let clouds cover the moon and have Windclan’s announcements be thrown off due to this interruption!”
Cats from all clans finally began to silence themselves, the sheer anger and demand in Wolfstar’s expression relaying his strange reaction to the warnings of Shadowclan, which in the past would have usually resulted in a brutal yelling match between Wolfstar and the offending Shadowclan claims, or so Hawkpaw had been told.
This time it seemed, Wolfstar just looked...tired, and impatient and like he just wanted to go home. Perhaps that was just it. Hazelfern’s death must have changed something in him.
Starclan. Hawkpaw thought dimly. He looks older than ever…
Wolfstar took a breath to calm himself, moving right into the report, eyes emptying their emotions as his voice grew dull and clear.
“Hazelfern has passed from illness. Windclan mourns our beloved deputy and knows...she is safe in Starclan...Being said, in her place, Cherrydapple is Windclan’s new deputy. Even with the tragedy, Windclan always remains strong. We have two new warriors, Hillstrike and Lionfur, and a grand amount of new apprentices. Redpaw, Eaglepaw, Jaypaw, Sandpaw, Duskpaw and Hawkpaw. Our prey runs well, and our clan is growing.” He reported simply.
Hawkpaw let himself feel a small twinge of pride at the cheers of Windclan’s names from most of the other clans, Shadowclan begrudgingly giving a call or two. Most likely in respect of Hazelfern. Hawkpaw knew she had been popular no matter where she was talked about. It must have been quite a surprise that she was dead. Many looks were directed at Cherrydapple too, who seemed to be doing alright under the gazes, but refusing to look around at anyone in particular. Clearly she was uncomfortable, but at least she knew how to look the part, huh?
Now, the gathering seemed to conclude, and it was Wolfstar that mewed.
“The gathering is concluded...And Darkstar?”
Hawkpaw quickly lifted his head to hear what his grandfather was finally going to say to the Shadowclan leader, who merely turned to look over his shoulder at Wolfstar, with eyes curled up in polite challenge.
Wolfstar narrowed his eyes, chips of river blue glaring at Darkstar.
“Don’t make threats you’ll regret, Darkstar.”
It was all that was said, though the intensity of the words sang in Hawkpaw’s heart, as Darkstar curled his lip and scaled down the rock. Wolfstar leaped down on the other side, moving to gather the clan as quickly as he had reported.
My first gathering. Hawkpaw mused. What a night...
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 17, 2017 17:54:27 GMT -5
Chapter 6
Hawkpaw had found it perfectly grand that he was finally focusing more on battle training, thanks to Wolfstar’s orders the moment Windclan had returned from the gathering nearly 2 moons ago. Of course, in that time, another gathering had passed, although, that time was certainly more peaceful, according to Dawnpaw and Crowpaw. Hawkpaw had not attended that gathering, instead staying up all night in the apprentice’s den learning a few moves from Flamepaw and her brother, Leafpaw.
The good news was that the threat of an all out war with Shadowclan had Wolfstar considering allowing the younger apprentices an opportunity to train as much as they could. Mostly in hopes of joining the battle on the front lines. Hawkpaw’s heart raced at the prospect of having his first real battle with Shadowclan.
He felt air whoosh past his ears as he quickly dodged a fast strike from Duskpaw. The larger tunneling apprentice may have been stronger than Hawkpaw, but his speed was mediocre in comparison. Hawkpaw’s slender build, short fur and lean legs, combined with his new obsession for battle practice, made Hawkpaw incredibly keen on using his speed to gain a victory.
He had to bitterly ignore the fact that Sandpaw was even faster than he was. He just had to train harder, it wasn’t like he was just born a natural like the small she-cat.
He gasped as his distraction finally allowed Duskpaw to get a fierce blow in, his dark paw pounding into Hawkpaw’s shoulder. Hawkpaw hissed at the blow, but quickly scooted back, getting into his stance again and shaking his head quickly to refocus. He’d been winning his spars so far, he couldn’t break that streak!
He felt his teeth grit when he heard his mentor’s voice call from a few tail lengths away.
“Good work. Both of you can come back. Sandpaw and Eaglepaw are up next.” Scarfur dismissed smoothly.
Hawkpaw snorted in reply.
“That was hardly a spar! We could totally do more, right Dusk-...” Hawkpaw had turned his head back to get approval from his sparring partner, but was met with thin air. Duskpaw had already obediently and silently scampered back to Burrowheart, who always seemed to never really like training above ground.
Hawkpaw rolled his eyes, still assured that cats belonged above the ground, on the moors, not digging in tunnels like rabbits. He felt a sharp annoyance at Duskpaw’s easy retreat, and certainly at Scarfur’s impatient clearing of her throat.
Traitor. He thought with a pout.
Scarfur hardly seemed to care for his bitter upstaging at the paws of the mute Duskpaw, lashing her tail for Hawkpaw to come back to her side, as Sandpaw and Eaglepaw chatted happily on their way to take the center of the training field.
Hawkpaw didn’t know why, but seeing those two be sparring partners made him even angrier. It was just dumb, to have Sandpaw battling Eaglepaw, who may have been tall and fast, but who could hardly compare to Sandpaw’s natural battling talents. She had speed and skill and such fast reflexes, even this early in her training.
Eaglepaw would have fared better against Duskpaw.
Hawkpaw knew Sandpaw deserved a better challenge.
Like me.
He thought strongly to himself, his ramrod posture and focus derailing for a moment as his paws shuffled and a strange feeling filled his chest. Not anger, not really, because as annoying as Eaglepaw could be, he was also a great companion to hunt with and talk to sometimes, but more so a feeling similar to bitterness. A type of envy, he realized, though this one wasn’t due to jealousy of an apprentice becoming a warrior, or of Crowpaw catching a larger rabbit than him…
This was a feeling he didn’t know yet.
He decided to push it away next to all his other stupid emotions, for now. Now, he had to focus and study Sandpaw and Eaglepaw’s moves to know what, and what not, to do in battle. It was clear from even the start of the spar that Sandpaw was toying with Eaglepaw’s instinctive nature to give the first strike his all, which in turn wasted energy faster and allowed Sandpaw to swoop in and deliver the finishing blows.
Hawkpaw had to begrudgingly marvel at Sandpaw’s patience, especially with a skittish and active mentor like Cherrydapple. Hawkpaw supposed the deputy wasn’t as useless as he first thought, or that Sandpaw was just gifted in battle. Perhaps it was both. Even so, Eaglepaw’s powerful strikes and swift leaps were dodged with Sandpaw’s retreating tactics and speed, the small she-cat allowing herself to be backed up around the battlefield.
Finally, when Eaglepaw had to take a moment to regain his stamina, and Sandpaw left panting for breath, she took her window, leaping at the tom and perching on his back, paws pummeling at his shoulders. Eaglepaw gave a growl of complaint, trying to dislodge the she-cat. Sandpaw had no choice but to leap back down, but in doing so she lined her hind legs up and popped them out into Eaglepaw’s legs, sending him down with an “oomph”.
Hawkpaw held back a cheer, not wanting to express his pride in his best friend like a kit. Instead, he gave a smirk to the proud looking Sandpaw, as Cherrydapple gave a loud purr from her spot next to Scarfur and a pouting Ambertail.
Sandpaw moved towards Eaglepaw once the tom got back up, her eyes glowing with friendliness as she soothed the disappointed Eaglepaw.
“Hey now! Don’t be upset. You fought great, and I certainly wouldn’t have lasted much longer with how strong and fast your strikes were.” Sandpaw’s voice danced across the battleground, and Hawkpaw grumbled to himself seeing Eaglepaw as the target of her happy voice. Especially since Eaglepaw responded with a quick restoration of his own happiness.
“Oh, thanks, Sandpaw. You’re really a great fighter. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wolfstar chooses you to help in the next battle.”
Hawkpaw seethed lightly.
Wolfstar would be dumb to not put Sandpaw in the ranks. And he’d be just as dumb to not add me in there too. Everyone knows Sandpaw and I would make the best team!
His bitter thoughts were interrupted by Cherrydapple’s smooth call.
“As exciting as spectating is, I think we’re done for today’s training. Besides, we can’t be late for the ceremonies tonight.” She waved her tail, motioning for them to follow her. Ambertail scampered up to the deputy’s side, Eaglepaw racing up to join her as well. The ring-tailed warrior seemed to have gotten over her apprentice’s defeat pretty quickly, instead beaming with excitement as she asked.
“Do you guys think Yellowpaw, Flamepaw and Leafpaw passed their assignments?”
Scarfur was the one to reply, her green eyes actually rather interested in the subject. Hawkpaw assumed it was due to Scarfur’s enjoyment in seeing new warriors and apprentices. The scarred warrior replied.
“Well, considering Twistedpath’s chest puffing out when he passed by earlier to follow Yellowpaw during hunting, I’d say they’re pretty well off. I have no doubt of Flamepaw and Leafpaw either. Both are exceptional learners compared to many of the clan’s past apprentices.” She explained.
Ambertail nodded quickly at that, and Cherrydapple merely fluffed up her fawn colored coat, clearly just as excited but more keen on hiding it. She hummed.
“Well, we’ll see once we get back to camp. The sun’s beginning to set, and Wolfstar’s favorite time to do ceremonies is at night.”
As Hawkpaw walked, he was relieved to see Sandpaw scampering happily at his side, though Cherrydapple’s words had slightly confused him. He assumed her being deputy meant Wolfstar was keen on telling her more, but he always thought Wolfstar only told personal things to is kin, even something like that. He felt a bit suspicious, though he instantly ignored his suspicions to turn to Sandpaw, who gushed to him.
“Rabbitkit and Quailkit will be joining us in the apprentice’s den too. I’m excited, I’ve missed playing and exploring with them.” She purred.
Hawkpaw wanted to scold her for thinking like a kit, but found it impossible when she looked this delighted. Seeing her eyes dull in disappointment and her teeth bared in anger was something Hawkpaw felt was horribly off putting when it was her. Anyone else, and he wouldn’t give a rat’s tail.
But Sandpaw was his best friend, and best friends didn’t do that to eachother. Even he knew that, even with his fiery temper and apparently ghastly manners. He opened his jaws, snarking out.
“Well, let’s hope they don’t keep us up at night. We have to be in our best shape if we hope to be in the next battle. If we play our paws right, it’ll be you and me, side by side. Shadowclan won’t know what him them!”
Sandpaw’s eyes danced with readiness, a determination glowing in the blue depths. Mottled fur fluffed, the small apprentice giggled.
“Sounds like an excellent plan, Hawkfeather. Sandstar would be happy to fight with her deputy at her side.”
Hawkpaw felt the familiar buzz of their banter, relishing in the one space he felt he could do and say what he wanted without being labeled as overly-emotional.
“Well Hawkstar would prefer to fight with Sandblaze at his side.” He sneered, earning himself a gentle cuff to his ear.
When they finally reached camp, cats were already starting to gather in anticipation for the ceremonies. Hawkpaw could see Flamepaw bouncing excitedly, her brothers, Leafpaw and Yellowpaw, also looking more than ready to become warriors. Hawkpaw guessed that they must have passed their assessments.
Even so, the real energy came from Rabbitkit and Quailkit, who were practically chasing their own tails in anticipation, their fur groomed almost immaculately by Wrenburrow, who gazed at her kits with deep pride. The calm tunneling queen moved to sit next to Tunnelmud, as both parents awaited Wolfstar.
Hawkpaw followed Sandpaw over to where Jaypaw and Crowpaw were talking, the small she-cat greeting her brother with a smile. Jaypaw turned and cheered.
“You’re back! Just in time too! Crowpaw said that Wolfstar was really pleased with the older apprentices. The best batch yet, he says!”
“Which will change once Dawnpaw and I become warriors.” Crowpaw snorted. Jaypaw merely tossed his head up and reminded.
“Or when the fantastic six take center-camp! Who could beat all six of us?”
Hawkpaw knew he referred to himself, Sandpaw, Redpaw, Duskpaw, Eaglepaw, and lastly him. Hawkpaw felt a small smirk of agreement lift his muzzle. It was true, if any group of apprentices would be the best, it would be whatever group he was in.
Crowpaw merely rolled his eyes, instead turning his head to glance at the ceremony. Wolfstar had made his way up the rock in the center of camp, and while his fur was still ragged and unkempt since his former deputy’s passing, his blue eyes lit up with sheer pride once again.
“A grand evening in Windclan. Our oldest apprentices were phenomenal today, showing skills in all forms of hunting, fighting and tunneling.” Yellowpaw puffed his chest at his leader’s praise of his tunneling skills, seeing as his brother and sister were moor-runners. Wolfstar continued quickly.
“Let’s not waste any time in rewarding them with the rank they deserve. Flamepaw, Leafpaw, Yellowpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and defend Windclan even at the cost of your own lives?”
The three siblings replied together, eyes blazing and postures as tall as they could manage.
“I do!”
Wolfstar gave a rather smug look, before he announced loudly and clearly.
“Then I now give you your warrior names. Flamepaw, you shall be known as Flamefur. Yellowpaw, you shall be known as Yellowfoot. And Leafpaw, you shall be known as Leafclaw. Starclan honors your skill and dedication and welcomes you as full warriors of Windclan.”
Now these three, Hawkpaw could cheer for. Flamefur and Leafclaw had defiantely dominated the hunting and fighting out of the apprentices, and Hawkpaw had always been offered to be shown some great fighting moves from Leafclaw. Yellowfoot was also really persuasive and had his head on right as a loyal Windclan cat. He didn’t take any fodder, and could dish out a response as well as he could take one, even for a tunneler. Hawkpaw lifted his muzzle to join his clan in cheering for the new warriors.
Once the cheers had died down, and the three siblings had each rested their heads on his grandfather’s shoulder, Hawkpaw turned to glance at Rabbitkit and Quailkit. Sandpaw gave her own heavy purr, knowing the empty nests of Flamefur and her brothers would be taken by two new apprentices. Hawkpaw wasn’t as excited, but he wouldn’t be a spoil sport, especially when he had better things to focus on.
Wolfstar returned to his loud ceremonial announcement, booming down.
“Two of our kits have reached the age of 6 moons and are now ready to become apprentices. They’ve shown signs of being nothing less than devout tunnelers, and I’m more than happy to set them on their paths.” The former tunneler flicked his thick, dark tail, gazing fondly at the two kits.
“Rabbitkit, you are now Rabbitpaw. I see it best that Frozenfang mentors you. He is not as old as many of his other tunnelers, but he is quite skilled. Quailkit, you are now Quailpaw. Your mentor will be Darkstorm. She is fiercely dedicated and you will learn well from her disciplined dedication.”
Rabbitpaw scampered up to Frozenfang, who gave a calm nod, touching noses with the large tom. Quailpaw was a bit more reluctant, only approaching the fierce tunneler when Darkstorm’s hard eyes softened slightly and she gave an inviting flick of her ears. Once they touched noses, they settled next to their mentors.
Hawkpaw cheered alongside Sandpaw and Jaypaw, as Crowpaw seemed more interested about anything else the leader had to say. Hawkpaw looked up as well, interest in his eyes. He then felt a frown of disappointment as Wolfstar simply concluded the ceremony, having nothing else to say. Hawkpaw supposed a quick ceremony was better than wasting time.
Now the new warriors and apprentices were mingling with gathering crowds, but Hawkpaw didn’t want to waste time with that. He was tired from his training and hadn’t eaten all day. Taking his leave, he left Sandpaw and Jaypaw to gush over Rabbitpaw and Quailpaw, and made his way over to the prey pile.
He was about to pluck a tasty blackbird from the pile, only to hear a stern cough from behind him. Turning, he looked to see Smogstripe, looking down at him. Hawkpaw merely scowled, wondering why his father seemed against him taking prey. It wasn’t like he payed much attention anyway. Recently, his father hadn’t even been around. He was constantly out of camp, though according to Rockpaw, his father certainly wasn’t using all that time out of camp to mentor him.
Clearly, Hawkpaw mused almost bitterly, Smogstripe was still moping about Hazelfern’s death, or he was simply being neglectful. It wasn’t like Hawkpaw needed to be coddled, but...hmph, maybe sometimes he wanted to learn from his father, even if he was a tunneler…
Either way, Smogstripe glowered.
“I hope you’ve hunted and helped fed the queens and elders before you thought to take that.”
Hawkpaw gave a slight bristle, narrowing his eyes at his father’s lack of trust in his responsibility to his older clanmates. He snapped.
“Yeah. Why would I gorge myself unless I’ve already hunted for the queens and elders? I’m not stupid, father.” He averted his gaze in anger.
Surprisingly, Smogstripe didn’t respond with the small smile or the light sigh he usually gave when interacting with his son. Instead, the older warrior merely gave a suspicious look, before he mewed.
“Very well.”
Hawkpaw didn’t know why, but the tone and response felt foreign, and made him bristle more, as if his father was addressing him as a cat from another clan instead of as his kit. Hawkpaw tried to remedy this quickly, shrugging and offering.
“Share this with me, Father. I want to tell you about how much stronger I’ve gotten compared to Duskpaw and Eaglepaw.” He gave an expectant smirk, and puffed his chest, only to practically deflate and boil with anger as Smogstripe only shook his head.
“I’ve eaten earlier, Hawkpaw. And I’m about to leave camp anyway. Another day.” With that, the dark furred warrior turned, moving towards the camp entrance and leaving his enraged and bitter son to sit near the prey pile. Hawkpaw’s gnawing hunger turned into burning fury and an almost sickening feeling of unfairness. He gave a slight hiss, whipping around to carry his blackbird to the corner of camp, ripping into it and eating it with fierce bites.
Whatever. Smogstripe was always too busy now. Marshflower spent more time with Hawkpaw than Smogstripe did now, even if her time consisted of stern battle lessons and heavy ear cuffs when he talked back to her. At least his aunt was there, and listened when he told her how good he was getting at training. Hawkpaw knew, after the past 3 moons, that something was different about Smogstripe.
Finishing his prey with an aggressive chew, he decided fiercely that he would find out exactly what was making Smogstripe so different. He gazed angrily at the camp entrance, and stood up, eyes flashing in the now darkened air.
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Nightfall had begun, and the camp was starting to either head to sleep or move off into patrols. Hawkpaw waited until the camp was more quiet with activity, before he scooted off to one of the weaker sections of the gorse wall.
Looking around carefully, he slipped into the gorse, pulling himself through the thick gorse to escape onto the rolling hills of Windclan territory. He didn’t want to cause a stupid stir with the older warriors who thought he was incapable of being out of camp alone. He wouldn’t be long, and if he was, he trusted Sandpaw would cover for him even if she herself had no idea where he was.
Ignoring his inner concerns, he stomped through grass, the cool breeze of newleaf air shuffling his dark brown fur. He set to work, locating his father’s scent rather easily, though realizing after a while of tracking it that Smogstripe had gone out, and he had gone out far. Hawkpaw felt like he was wandering aimlessly, and was even more suspicious when none of the trail led into a tunnel. What was his father doing hunting above the ground for this long and this far out? It made no sense!
Finally, the scent did reach a tunnel, but this tunnel was nearly at the edge of the territory! Hawkpaw’s concerns about the clan wondering where he was returned. He didn’t expect to go this far, but the implications made it clear that this was something he needed to investigate. Approaching the dark tunnel mouth slowly, he scowled and tensed.
No way was he going into a filthy tunnel. The strength of his father’s scent as strong enough to know he was down there. Hawkpaw just had to figure out why this far and not in a closer tunnel. Of course, as he waited at the tunnel mouth, time passed on rather tensely. A bit of time actually, and Smogstripe still had not come out. Hawkpaw couldn’t hear any voices, which was even more bizarre.
Father, what are you doing? This isn’t at all what you told me a Windclan warrior does. We don’t run off to tunnels, we don’t neglect our apprentices!
Hawkpaw thought sourly, finally finding his impatience was winning over his curiousities. With an annoyed huff, he began to turn to return to camp, only to catch a dark shadow slip out of a tunnel far across the moors. Crouching low, Hawkpaw watched intently, trying to make out who it was under the faint moonlight. His suspicions were correct, as his father finally exited the tunnel, although it was quite far from the tunnel mouth.
Hawkpaw kept silent, watching his father look around him for a while, before the tunneler began padding briskly back to camp. Hawkpaw noticed prey in his jaws, and found himself feeling disappointed that all he saw was his father hunting far from camp, only for him to tip his head in confusion.
No rabbits. Just a bird in his jaws. But…Smogstripe had clearly been in the tunnel for too long for him to have caught that bird recently. And even then, tunnelers hardly ever caught birds without catching a rabbit or two as well. As his father made his way back towards camp, Hawkpaw felt almost cold with confusion and annoyance. Something weird was going on, but he knew he had been away from camp for too long. Breaking into a run, he made sure to keep his paws light and run in the opposite direction his father had taken, circling back to camp to remain undetected.
As he slipped back through the gorse wall, thoughts and confusion danced in his mind, and he found himself increasingly angered at his father’s strange behavior. Was he stealing prey? If so, why? Newleaf brought plenty of prey to the territory. Why would Smogstripe be stealing it? Shaking his head, he moved to flop down next to Sandpaw with a huff.
Sandpaw had lifted her head immediately, asking.
“Hawkpaw, where’d you go? You disappeared, but I told everyone you were just getting some air…”
Just as he expected, Sandpaw, bless that she-cat, had covered him. He felt bad lying to her, but this was something he needed to figure out on his own before he brought it up, even to her. He faked a snort.
“Well, you were pretty right. The ceremony was stifling. I just ran for a bit. Hope the cranky hairballs don’t notice.”
Sandpaw looked a bit unsure, but Hawkpaw simply rested his head on his paws and demanded.
“Well? Gonna go back to sleep? It’s cold out, and I’m only offering my fur to you in the next five seconds.”
That seemed to work, as Sandpaw cuffed his ear and moved to settle right back next to him, her soft fur pressing close, as though burrowing into his pelt. She gave a yawn and giggled.
“Whatever, you big lump. Goodnight, Hawkpaw.”
Hawkpaw stared back at the camp entrance, mind focusing on his father as he murmured.
“Yeah....Goodnight…”
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 17, 2017 17:54:39 GMT -5
Chapter 7
When Hawkpaw woke up the next morning, he was rather disappointed to feel the rush of cool wind against his fur. That meant that Sandpaw must have already left for her morning duties. That surprised Hawkpaw a bit. Surely Scarfur would have shoved him awake as she usually did by now. Was she letting him take a day off?
He scowled at the thought. He wasn’t some weak and lazy kit. He didn’t need pity or breaks. He could train all day and all night and still be ready for training the next morning. As great as sleep was, becoming a stronger apprentice was even greater.
Pulling himself up, he stretched, gazing around the camp, which seemed to give a calm and serene feeling from the soft morning sunlight. Hawkpaw turned his head, noticing the forms of Flamefur, Leafclaw and Yellowfoot, seated in camp and finishing up their vigil. While they were clearly tired, excitement still lingered in their eyes. Hawkpaw once again found himself envious of new warriors, hoping someday soon it would be him serving his proud vigil.
He jumped when he felt a paw prod his side. Whipping around, her gave a hiss, coming face to face with a wide-eyed Rabbitpaw and Quailpaw. He barked.
“What? Don’t go prodding me out of nowhere.”
Rabbitpaw seemed rather fearless under Hawkpaw’s grumpiness, though Quailpaw did scuttle backwards a bit. Rabbitpaw glared on behalf of his sister for a moment, before he was right back to his usual bounciness. He asked.
“Hawkpaw, we’re going to see the territory right now, but Frozenfang told me to tell you that Scarfur is out with Hawkfur, but that she wants you to clean the nests in the elder’s dens.” Rabbitpaw recited, flicking a brown ear.
Hawkpaw gave a loud groan of annoyance. Changing dens should be their jobs now, not his! And he had changed nests just the other day!
Stupid Scarfur. Always trying to make a point of all the ways she can boss me around...I better get this over with, before she stomps back into camp with her mate and thinks I goofed off.
He thought sourly.
Giving Rabbitpaw and Quailpaw a scowl, he puffed.
“Fine, fine, whatever. Have fun on your tour.”
Quailpaw perked a bit at that, her soft eyes brightening as she smiled.
“Thanks, Hawkpaw. We’ll know the whole territory by the time we’re done today. I’m...er, I’m really excited to start training.”
Hawkpaw wanted to roll his eyes, but the sheer hope in Quailpaw’s voice seemed to draw at Hawkpaw’s own inner pride. He flicked his tail and snickered.
“Yeah, yeah. It is exciting. You’ll have to train real hard to even come close to my skill, but you can certainly still be a good warrior.”
Rabbitpaw scoffed.
“Hah! Whatever you say, Hawkpaw! We gotta go.” He ushered his sister excitedly towards their mentors. Frozenfang and Darkstorm had been chatting rather quietly, their heads close in deep conversation, only for them to lift their heads and greet their apprentices.
Hawkpaw shook his head, stomping grumpily towards the elder’s den. He supposed he was lucky that there were only two elders in Windclan. Puddelfoot and Tansytail were old, as to be expected, but Hawkpaw did wonder how much the two had seen. As he entered the den, he could already see the two elders chatting to eachother.
Tansytail was quick to notice him, which made sense considering the brown she-cat wasn’t half-blind and losing her hearing like Puddlefoot was. She blinked at him, before nodding and croaking out.
“Hawkpaw. We were told you’d be changing the nests today. Am I to be concerned?” She snarked, and Hawkpaw both disliked and admired her sarcastic and bold nature. She spoke to everyone like she owned the clan. Luckily, Puddlefoot lumbered over, giving his denmate a light nudge.
“Aw, leave him be, Tansytail. You all are too hard on him. Maybe he wouldn’t be so snappish if his father wasn’t so distracted.”
Usually Hawkpaw would have bristled and snarled at the jab directed to his father, but flashes of memories from last night played in his mind, and he felt that wave of fierce questioning again. Puddlefoot, Hawkpaw realized, really wasn’t all that wrong. Even so, it seemed Tansytail thought otherwise.
“Rabbit-droppings! Your anger is your own to control, Hawkpaw. And Smogstripe is a fine warrior, Puddlefoot. You conspire against the entire clan!” Tansytail scoffed, moving to groom the ragged patch on her shoulder. Puddlefoot didn’t seem angered, but he certainly seemed annoyed. The older grey tabby tom shot out.
“That’s what you think! I never trusted that tom. Back when I tunneled, he always moved off on his own. And he certainly had a muzzle on him, with how he would speak back to me.”
“All apprentices lip back. I’m sure you did too, Puddlefoot.”
“Bah, whatever.” Puddlefoot grumbled.
“If you two are finished.” Hawkpaw mewed tightly, scowling from both the thoughts of his father and of Tansytail’s clear jibes at him and his personality.
“I’d like to get my work done before the sun goes down.”
Tansytail flicked her tail, gave a deep sigh and stood up, moving to allow Hawkpaw to change her nest. She seemed to not have any more judgements for him, which Hawkpaw certainly appreciated. The last thing he wanted was to be exiled for clawing an elder’s muzzle for insulting him. Tansytail moved to leave the elder’s den, probably preferring the cool breeze in camp to the den stuffed by toms. Not that Hawkpaw cared what she did.
It now meant he was alone with Puddlefoot, who clearly knew some good dirt on his father. Hawkpaw had to know as much as he could if he wanted to figure out why his father was possibly stealing prey at night.
While he worked on Tansytail’s nest, he swiveled his ears back to Puddlefoot and asked the old tom.
“You were talking about my father. How you didn’t trust him. What did you mean?”
The old grey tabby turned to train his half-blind gaze upon the young tom, scowling faintly at the question, before he began to answer, voice rusty with age.
“Just like I said. Tansytail gets on your back for attitudes, but Smogstripe was just as bad. First off, the clan acts like he and your mother were the best match in Windclan. All lovey-dovey. I don’t mean to assume or think badly of Daisybreeze, but I heard them near the tunnels once. The mousebrain’s trying to get her into the tunnel to show her something. Clearly she doesn;t want to, considering she was a full-out moor-runner. Smogstripe got all huffy, like she was obliged to follow him around! Bah. You don’t ever treat your mate as anything less than an equal.” The elder started.
Hawkpaw wish he remembered more of his mother. He had been young when she had died, but this was new news to him. Had Puddlefoot ever shared this with anyone? Hawkpaw always assumed Smogstripe’s attitude changes were partially because of Daisybreeze’s death, which meant he had surely cared for her alot...right?
Puddlefoot continued.
“I would have been keen on assuming he was just stubborn, but the tom’s been leaving Rockpaw to change my nest more times than you new apprentices have done it. Rockpaw’s the oldest apprentice now. He’s got no business doing your job when he has to focus on training. As a former tunneler, it’s fatal to not know every single tiny detail about tunneling. Gah. Either Smogstripe is getting neglectful or he’s off running around again.”
Hawkpaw felt a chill at that. So he wasn’t the only one who had noticed Smogstripe’s neglect of Rockpaw. Or his apparently long-time trait of wandering off into the tunnels on his own. Starclan, what was going on? Hawkpaw hated to think his father, who had always preached a strict loyalty and dedication to Windclan, was breaking his own promises. What kind of honor was that?
Hawkpaw quickly finished Tansytail’s nest, and moved to work on Puddlefoot’s, speaking as calmly as he could manage.
“Well, let him be a mousebrain. If he keeps it up, I hope Grandfather appoints Rockpaw to a more focused mentor.”
Puddlefoot scoffed.
“Kit, I’ll vouch for you, but I’m no fool. I know how family runs. Your father, your aunt, they’ll always going to be favored by Wolfstar because they’re his kits. Even you will probably be given privelages for that.”
Hawkpaw bristled instantly.
“I can earn my own respect without mooching off my bloodline!”
Puddlefoot merely shook his head.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. But Wolfstar won’t switch mentors, and he won’t notice his son’s actions like he should because he is his father. I’m saying, Hawkpaw, that you’d be best to not be surprised if Wolfstar forgives your actions over another cat’s.” The old tom finished at that, taking a wheezing breath from the long words.
Hawkpaw bit his tongue, trying his best not to lash out at the elder, especially when he had given pretty good evidence to back up Hawkpaw’s suspicions of his father. He opened his jaws, aiming to ask another question, only to cut off as a loud yowl sounded in camp. Head whipping over, Hawkpaw looked out the den to see Cherrydapple rush into camp, Scarfur and Hawkfur at her side.
“They’ve remarked the border!” Cherrydapple shouted out, eyes wild with both anxiety and anger. Scarfur was bristled while Hawkfur was flexing his claws heatedly. Wolfstar was out of his den in an instant, eyes wide and fired with rage.
“What did you say?” He demanded.
Hawkpaw watched with a racing heart as the cats in camp sprang to their paws, fur raised in suprised defensiveness. Puddlefoot pawed at him, urging.
“Finish the elder duties later, Hawkpaw. This sounds like something even you need to be present for.”
Hawkpaw nodded sharply, inwardly reminding himself to catch the generous old tom a rabbit later for letting him join the crowd of cats. Hawkpaw pushed his way up to the front, where he finally was able to hear what exactly had happened.
“Shadowclan has remarked the border and has stolen territory, Wolfstar. They already had a large patrol there. There was no way the three of us could take them on. Darkstar was there. He challenged Windclan to try and stop them!” Cherrydapple panted.
Cries of outrage filled the camp.
“Rat-breathed thieves!” Whitefur snarled, the moor-runners’ white fur fluffed up. Across from her stood Froststorm, who spat.
“How dare they take our territory in such a way. Wolfstar, we must fight now!”
Hawkpaw felt his eyes narrow and his legs tremble with sheer fury. Shadowclan dare to break the code and steal Windclan land like this?!
The cries were overpowered by Wolfstar’s loud booming command.
“Enough! Settle it down! Froststorm is right. Windclan will not be taken advantage of like this. If Darkstar wants a battle, than a battle he shall have!” The sturdy leader leaped onto the camp rock, voice raised in righteous anger.
“We will waste no time! This is a direct attack on Windclan! We will strike with two patrols. Cherrydapple, you will lead the moor-runners. Scarfur, Hawkfur, Silentfeather, Froststorm, Hillstrike and Marshflower will join you. As for apprentices, Crowpaw, Dawnpaw, Sandpaw and Hawkpaw will accompany.
Hawkpaw’s eyes widened in delight. Finally! His first battle! And against Shadowclan too! He looked around madly for Sandpaw, finally locating her in a spot near a rather disappointed looking Eaglepaw. She was bristled and crouched, though not with fear. Hawkpaw could see the intense focus and anger in her eyes, her readiness to fight. Dawnpaw and Crowpaw looked ready as well. Even though Wolfstar would be leading the tunnlers and Crowpaw would be with the moor-runners, it was clear Wolfstar knew Crowpaw was capable of fighting without his assistance.
Hawkpaw trembled with readiness as Wolfstar continued.
“I will lead the tunnelers for extra support. Twistedpath…” Wolfstar cut off for a moment, eyes scanning the crowd fiercely, as though searching for a certain cat. His eyes narrowed in confused annoyance, and he grit his teeth, shaking his head and continuing onwards.
“Twistedpath, Tunnelmud, Darkstorm, Molenose and Lionfur will accompany me. Duskpaw, Rockpaw and Lavanderpaw will accompany. We move out now!” Wolfstar leaped down, stomping furiously towards Cherrydapple once more.
The clan was in action, buzzing around to ready themselves. Cherrydapple’s patrol gathered at her side, while Wolfstar’s gathered at his. Hawkpaw found himself moving next to Sandpaw, while Dawnpaw and Crowpaw filed up next to them. Dawnpaw spoke quickly.
“Fight hard you guys. This is our chance to show Shadowclan what we’re made of!”
Sandpaw nodded quickly, and Hawkpaw growled in agreement.
“First one to take down a Shadowclan rat gets the fattest rabbit.” His words seemed to rile up the other apprentices, in a good way. Crowpaw sneered.
“You’re on, Hawkpaw. Let’s do this!”
Hawkpaw saw Redpaw, Jaypaw and Eaglepaw pad up to them, and while Hawkpaw felt excited to be fighting in a battle, he did feel a twinge of sympathy for the other apprentices. Luckily, Jaypaw was optimistic, and lightened the mood by ordering.
“You guys better win...And Sandpaw, you better be careful.” He looked at his sister with a supportive yet anxious face. Sandpaw quickly touched her nose to her brother’s cheek and promised.
“We’ll be alright. We’ll be back before you know it, Jaypaw.”
“Kick their tails!” Eaglepaw cheered, as Redpaw bounced lightly in agreement.
The time for goodbyes was quickly over. Once Brownleaf had gathered his herbs, with Lavanderpaw assisting him, the patrols were ready to go. Foxstep was too old to rush around the battlefield like she used to, so Hawkpaw guessed she’d be ready and waiting to treat clanmates when they returned. Either way, Hawkpaw knew it was time.
“Windclan! Make haste!” Wolfstar ordered, as Cherrydapple took the lead, her moor-runners dashing quickly after her. Hawkpaw sprang forwards, keeping stride with Sandpaw and Scarfur as they dashed across grass and stone. Following after was Wolfstar and his tunnlers, who would most likely serve as a surprise attack after the first wave of fighting.
That meant Cherrydapple would be the one confronting Darkstar first. While the thought felt foreign to Hawkpaw, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The border was fast approaching, and Hawkpaw snarled at the sharp scent of Shadowclan. Getting closer, it was clear Darkstar and his warriors were ready for a fight. They matched Windclan almost evenly in numbers, perched on Windclan territory like they owned the place. It made Hawkpaw’s skin itch with blazing anger.
Darkstar showed no reaction when Cherrydapple brought the patrol to a halt, her eyes narrowed, her tail lifted in order as she growled darkly at the Shadowclan leader.
“You called for a challenge, you spineless coward. Here we stand. Windclan will not let you keep this territory you have stolen!” The new deputy spat.
Darkstar remained impassive as his warriors bristled with challenge. The dark leader merely narrowed his eyes and spoke back with tense danger.
“This territory belongs to Shadowclan now. We’ll give you one more chance to leave the territory to us, or face our forces.”
Cherrydapple lashed her tail, spitting out strongly. Hawkpaw found himself almost admiring the battle-trained side to her. This was a deputy, not her usual airy and ditzy persona back at camp. She sneered.
“You want this territory? You’ll have to pry it from our claws after we shred you with them.”
Darkstar gave a throaty growl, before finally the signal was lashed and his voice raised in fierce command.
“Shadowclan! Attack!”
Hawkpaw felt a fierce battle cry flee from his jaws, as the forces of Windclan and Shadowclan finally met in a fray of claws, fur and blood. Yowls rippled across both sides, as dark and ragged pelts mingled with slender browns and whites, blood sprayed like rain as the first strikes hit their marks.
Hawkpaw quickly found himself muzzle to muzzle with a Shadowclan apprentice. From what he remembered at the gathering, this must have been Mistypaw. Growling fiercely, he sprang towards her, Scarfur’s training buzzing in his brain. He’d teach this tresspasser a lesson she’d never forget! His claws made contact with her shoulder, slashing down sharply. Hawkpaw relished in her shout of pain.
That was, until she struck back with surprising speed. Hawkpaw hissed loudly as his cheek stung something fierce. He felt wetness near his mouth, and tasted blood. That Shadowclan rat! Though, another voice sang at the realization of his first battle scar. Hawkpaw sprang backward as Mistypaw lunged at him, too fast for her. He gave a bounce of challenge, dashing around her and swooping back in, sinking his teeth into her hind leg.
The tussle went on in motions of slashes, bites and yowls. While Mistypaw’s attacks were stronger, Hawkpaw’s were faster and more accurate. Finally, it was clear that Mistypaw had enough, and the she-cat snarled as she retreated back towards the fighting warriors
“Windclan will lose!”
Hawkpaw spat after her, kicking the dirt towards her retreating figure in victory.
“Hah! Keep running, Shadowclan coward!”
His body trembled with adrenaline, though his wounds stung heavily. He’d never felt so strong and so pained at the same time. He shook his head. He had to get back into the battle! Whipping his head around, he looked frantically for Sandpaw.
Luckily, she was nearby, but his heart slumped slightly seeing her fighting side by side in a graceful formation with Dawnpaw. The two she-cats were easily keeping their opponent at bay, taking turns with strikes. Hawkpaw bristled, preparing himself to launch and help the other apprentices.
That was, until teeth sank into his tail and yanked him back. He felt himself get tossed like a mouse, hitting the ground as a large Shadowclan tom stood glaring at him. Hawkpaw felt dizzy from the sudden toss, stumbling to pull himself back up, teeth bared and hissing at the dark tom. He knew this warrior, Scarfur talked of him. Darkshadow, a son of the former Shadowclan leader.
Hawkpaw refused to feel any fear, even if the strong warrior hissed at him, clearly trying to spook him instead of fight him. Hawkpaw bristled at that, darting forward to try and slash at the older tom. Plenty of good that did, when the Shadowclan tom merely lifted his paw and slammed it across Hawkpaw’s cheek, sending him sprawling to the side.
Hawkpaw gave a yowl, feeling stone cut into his shoulder. He scrabbled on the grass, anger and desperation giving him adrenaline. He screeched.
“Coward! Shadowclan rat! How dare you!”
Darkshadow stalked forwards, giving Hawkpaw one more painful scratch on his shoulders before he demanded angrily.
“Retreat, apprentice! Don’t be a hero. I don’t want to hurt you more than what is necessary.”
Hawkpaw bubbled with sheer fury. How dare he treat him like some weakling! Hawkpaw could take anything Darkshadow could give him! He writhed violenty, hissing at the Shadowclan tom. He’d never back down! He sank teeth into Darkshadow’s leg, causing the tom to give a hiss of anger.
Darkshadow responded with a quick grip to his scruff, and a strong toss of Hawkpaw to the side. Hawkpaw rolled with a gasp, finally feeling the adrenaline fade into pained shame and rage. He tried to get back up, to face the warrior, but Darkshadow was already gone, racing off to lunge at Hillstrike.
Hawkpaw crouched on the grass, blurry eyes gazing at the battle that he was now too disoriented to join back into. He could hear the telltale voice of Brownleaf calling to him from somewhere, but his eyes remained focused on his clanmates fighting the battle.
The battle he bitterly realized he was too weak to get up and continue with. He grit his teeth, a mix of a whine and a snarl coming from him as he tried to brunt through the pain. He could do this. Windclan couldn’t lose! He couldn’t give up, not now!
Even so, he knew he saw his clanmates being pushed back. Wolfstar had arrived with his tunnlers, but even then it seemed that Shadowclan had prepared for the numbers. They were everywhere, larger than the Windclan cats, their attacks strong and trained. Slowly, Windclan was losing ground, on their own territory.
Darkstar and Wolfstar were locked in vicious battle, their jaws stained red, eyes wide and claws slashing. Wolfstar was ripping at Darkstar’s shoulders as he pinned the Shadowclan leader on his back. But Darkstar was tearing at Wolfstar’s belly fur with powerful hind legs. The leaders rolled brutally, surrounded by throngs of yowling and bleeding warriors.
Windclan was losing, and Hawkpaw felt a sheer pit of dread at the realization.
Turns out he didn’t have to think longer about how the battle would turn out. Cats had stopped fighting at the sound of a bone-chilling shout. Even Wolfstar and Darkstar sprang apart to look at what had happened.
Hawkpaw made out the shapes of his mentor, Scarfur, standing wretchedly over the brown pelt of Hawkfur, who wasn’t moving...Starclan, he wasn’t moving at all. No breath, no blink of his eyes. Away from the two, crouching, bloody and wide-eyed was a Shadowclan cat who clearly had caused this horrible tragedy. Hawkpaw recognized him vaugely from his first gathering, one of Shadowclan’s newest warriors, Raggedthorn.
Raggedthorn had killed Hawkfur.
Hawkpaw would never forget the way his mentor screeched as she pressed at the body of her beloved mate, jaws parted in violent rage towards the cowering Raggedthorn. Shadowclan cats moved to guard him in an instant, as Wolfstar and Hawkpaw’s other clanmates gasped and cried out for their dead senior warrior.
That was the last thing Hawkpaw saw, darkness finally blurring his amber gaze as the sound of Scarstar’s cries and the slash of defeat dragged his mind into silence...
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Post by Moonblazer on Jul 28, 2017 13:43:03 GMT -5
Chapter 8
Hawkfur was dead.
Hawkfur died, and Hawkpaw still felt like it was nothing more than a cruel dream. When he had awoken in the medicine den, with Foxstep crouching over him, and Brownfur cleaning dirt from his claws with a far away look in his eyes, Hawkpaw felt a hollow feeling at the realization that Hawkfur had been buried.
Hawkpaw must have been knocked out for a few hours then, to have missed the vigil, and he lifted his head to groggily look around. This action was met to the relief of the old medicine cat. Foxstep’s eyes gleamed with relief as she assured the young apprentice.
“Good. You’ve woken up. Any longer and I would have been frazzled.”
“How long was I out? What...what happened?” Hawkpaw cut right to the chase, even when his body burned with the memories that began to swamp him. Cherrydapple and Darkstar facing off, followed by Wolfstar’s patrol coming in...his fights with Mistypaw, who he had defeated, but also that Shadowclan warrior, who he hated to admit kicked his hide.
Hearing the screech of his mentor, and finally seeing Hawkfur’s dead body gazed upon by both clans. With a horrible feeling of dread, Hawkpaw realized that Windclan must have lost. Shadowclan must have stolen that territory, and must have defended it too. His wounds, sticky with polituce and cobweb, throbbed as a reminder of his pathetic attempt at defending his clan.
Foxstep seemed to notice his shame, and offered a gentle frown of condolence as she replied to his questions promptly.
“You were unconscious overnight...and Hawkfur died in the battle against Shadowclan. Brownfur tells me that Raggedthorn had killed him, though it had not been on purpose.”
Hawkpaw felt blind with anger, as he snarled.
“What a lie! Shadowclan are nothing but thieves and murderers. They have no honor! They’ve stolen our land and killed one of our warriors! Don’t make excuses for him!” He panted, body sore and stinging as he tried to pull himself up. Foxstep was quick to press him back down with her frail body, her eyes gleaming with stern order.
“Relax, Hawkpaw. Do not mess up your wounds with your impulsive behavior...forget about the details, the battle is over. Windclan will regain our territory, but we can’t do it now. You all need to recover.” The old medicine cat waited for Hawkpaw to glare and huff his defeat, before she moved to exit the medicine den. In her place, Brownfur looked directly at him, his eyes boring into Hawkpaw’s as he padded close to him. Hawkpaw felt his fur bristle.
“What are you staring at me for, Brownfur?” Hawkpaw demanded grumpily, his dark brown fur spiking with annoyed discomfort. Brownfur merely blinked, before turning to retrieve some wet moss for the apprentice. When he had returned and placed the moss down, he mewed simply.
“Something big is coming. Make sure you understand that, make sure you are always ready. The greatest storms are the ones we cannot see.” Brownfur swished his tail, his green eyes gleaming with a knowledge that Hawkpaw could not comprehend. The words sounded cryptic and haunting, and Hawkpaw could only stare at the medicine cat apprentice with confused eyes and bristled fur.
As quickly as Brownfur had approached, the strange tom had retreated back to the corner of the den, sifting through herbs, leaving Hawkpaw to stew in his own thoughts. While the words of Brownfur bumped around in his brain, his main thoughts focused on the battle. His pathetic attempt at defending his clan. Tossed around like a mouse, while his other clanmates fought real battles.
No. No, he was strong. It was just a surprise attack. Any apprentice or warrior could have been taken down much faster. Hawkpaw had won against Mistypaw! Stood his ground!
But...then why would he have gone down so easily while Dawnpaw and Sandpaw had succeeded in what seemed to be flawless ease? Why had his training amounted to such an easy loss, no matter who the opponent was? Hawkpaw felt his claws extend into the soft soil and grass of the medicine den floor, his chest aching with bitter shame and anger. What’s worse was that Hawkfur had paid for this incompetence with his life.
I was named after him. Starclan, that hardly means much now, when he’s dead.
Hawkpaw thought darkly, before a sudden realization struck him. Hawkfur had been Scarfur’s mate. Hawkfur had been his father’s best friend. A part of himself was urging him to see if they were faring alright, a part he’d never admit he had, but one that was there nonetheless. Besides, he may have felt sore, but it was far better than the pain he felt under the tosses and claws of Darkshadow.
Hawkpaw waited until Brownfur left the den before he quickly pulled himself up, grunting at the soreness of his healing wounds and aching shoulders. Hawkpaw huffed with determination, and made his way carefully out of the medicine den. Unsurprisingly, the clan was somber. Warriors were pacing with their tails drooped, apprentices were no longer running around and wrestling in the center of camp. The defeat of Windclan in the battle had broken down spirits, that was for sure. Luckily, Cherrydapple still held her head high as she gathered warriors for patrols. With himself, Sandpaw, Crowpaw and Dawnpaw partaking in the battle, Ambertail and Runningbreeze seemed to be keen on working Eaglepaw and Redpaw to their potentials. Hawkpaw could tell by the way the ring tailed she-cat and brown furred tom ushered the apprentices out with the patrols.
Hawkpaw noticed Jaypaw carrying a rabbit into camp, as Rabbitpaw and Quailpaw were helping Marshflower, Hillstrike and Frozenfang weave the wind-blown gorse back into a more sturdy pattern.
Then he noticed Sandpaw talking to Jaypaw across camp. He couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief seeing her shake her mottled pelt, seeing her blue eyes spark with her usual energy. But this time, while he was relieved to see her alright, her bright eyes and stature didn’t soothe his anger at himself. In fact, it made him secretly envious. Sandpaw hardly had wounds like his, and was clearly happy despite the fact that they had lost. He wished, for a moment, that he could understand her foolish optimism…
Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like crowfood.
So when she spotted him and waved her tail in delighted greeting, the only thing he could do was give her a long glance, before he turned away sharply to focus on his main goal. To find Smogstripe and Scarfur and make sure they knew that he’d never fail them like this again. He couldn’t let Sandpaw’s happiness be dragged down by his failure, and even more so, he couldn’t let himself feel angrier due to petty envy of her bright personality.
He limped onwards strongly, not seeing Sandpaw’s face droop in confused hurt and indignation. The camp was emptier than usual, even with patrols out. Hawkpaw wondered if it was due to the battle, and if the warriors were training extra. It made sense, anyway.
The wind ruffled his pelt as he padded around camp, before finally he was able to receive the kind of activity he was looking for. At least, activity he had thought he wanted to see. It was far more than that…a lot of of the warriors in camp were standing tense, awkward, as Smogstripe had stormed out of Wolfstar’s den, eyes burning with fury. Wolfstar followed his son, just as riled. Hawkpaw remained still, listening with wide eyes.
“You have no right to insult my leadership, and the actions of your clanmates during the battle when you were not present! Cherrydapple had needed you for patrol even before that, and lo and behold, you’ve been out of camp again!”
Wolfstar’s booming voice had sent the clan into a silence, which was only broken by Smogstripe’s deep and aggravated growl.
“I’ve been hunting more, and you of all cats know I work better alone! That’s not the issue! You led Windclan to defeat! On territory that should have been easy to defend! How many times are we going to lose to Shadowclan before Windclan becomes the laughing stock of the clans?”
“Perhaps we’d have fared better if you had been there like I needed you to be! You stand here and snarl at me when you’ve not even been standing beside your clanmates! You don’t think I feel shame for this loss?”
Wolfstar snapped back harshly, to which Smogstripe retaliated, voice high with pain and anger.
“Hawkfur was the greatest warrior I ever knew. He was my greatest friend, and you led him to death!”
Hawkpaw tensed deeply, knowing how much Hawkfur had meant to his father. He had named his son after his best friend, so seeing him dead surely had struck his father harshly. Even so, Hawkpaw felt himself impatiently waiting for his father to mention him, to show that same kind of desperation. Hawkpaw knew he could have died then. Surely Smogstripe felt that way?
But Smogstripe made no mention of him. Nor of Marshflower, who had brunted many attacks in a battle that she at least had been present for. Hawkpaw nearly gritted with envy at how Smogstripe continued on about Hawkfur.
“Your warriors were unable to keep him alive! You retreated at the first sign of defeat! Even if I had been there, we still would have lost, certainly with you pulling back when Hawkfur fell! He died for nothing, and even then, his death fueled no strength in any of you!”
This riled up the surrounding clan cats. Hawkpaw grazed his eyes over his clanmates, spotting the grey and white fur of Silentfeather bristle. She was easily angered, and he listened as she spat towards Smogstripe.
“We are far from the kind of weakness you are describing. While you were off prancing on the moors like an apprentice, the patrol was fighting! Hawkfur fought and died with devotion and honor! Two things you seem to be lacking.” She growled deeply. With her strong words, the clan had been swayed, fueled by Silentfeather’s jab.
“One battle does not define the strength of the whole clan, rabbit-brain! We were outnumbered, it was foolish to continue and let other cats die.” Twistedpath added in deeply, flicking his grey tabby tail and casting an amber glare at Smogstripe.
“Why don’t we just toss you on the border and let you take down Shadowclan on your own if you could plan it so perfectly!” Lionfur’s brash shout scorched into the fray, the young warrior nursing a deep cut on his shoulder from the harsh battle.
Smogstripe took darkly to the shouts, bristling and giving a deep hiss. Hawkpaw knew he should defend his father’s honor, shout for his clanmates to stop, but he found that he could not do it. His voice caught in his throat as he watched his father insult his clan, and his clanmates insult his father.
Finally, Wolfstar’s loud yowl flashed the crowd into silence once more, and the leader stormed angrily up to his son, scowling deeply and demanding.
“What is going on with you, Smogstripe? You have never thought in this way before. You’ve never shirked from your duties, nor have you ever disrespected your clanmates like this before.”
Smogstripe seemed to blanch at that, eyes flashing with an emotion that Hawkpaw could not understand. Finally, after a long breath of silence, Smogstripe’s body relaxed, though his eyes seemed to boil. He mewed simply, deeply.
“I’ve realized recently the foolishness of everything Windclan stands for. Everything all of the clans stand for. Honor? A Warrior Code? We pretend like we’re legendary warriors, kits of warriors of Lionclan and Tigerclan, and yet we fight and die and lose for nothing. Forced to grow attached to every pelt in the den only to see them bleed upon the moorland grass.”
The clan was silent. Dead silent.
Hawkpaw felt sickness in his heart that burned with a brutal blaze. Smogstripe...Starclan, what was his father saying?
Wolfstar seemed the most affected though, eyes wide with sheer horror and fury, clearly shattered by what his son was saying. What Smogstripe was leading up to.
The dark tom continued, voice tight and almost reluctant, yet so full of taunting disgust that it cut Hawkpaw to the core.
“We can’t even defend a border. Can’t even survive Greencough, or a stupid battle with heartless murderers. I stand here, forced to follow your words as law in a code created by cats briddled with power. So many rules and traditions all for cats who died moons and moons ago. I have grown sick of it all.”
“Smogstripe.” Marshflower growled dangerously, though there was a twinge of disbelief and betrayal in her voice.
“What are you saying?”
“I’ve made up my mind. I am leaving Windclan, permanently. I have hunted a lot recently, but more so, I have discovered life in a new way. I have fallen in love with a loner that is smarter and braver than anyone that remains in this clan. I am leaving with her.”
The clan burst with outrage, snarls and hisses exploding from the crowd as Wolfstar opened his jaws in deep shock. Cherrydapple bristled violently, the deputy rushing up to Wolfstar’s side as Windclan exclaimed their anger.
“Traitor!” “Fox-hearted fool!” The shouts were brutal, and Marshflower had nearly lunged at her brother, held back by the calming yet anxious and angered voice of Hillstrike, who stood at her side and glared at Smogstripe. Rockpaw, Smogstripe’s apprentice, cowered with misery at his mentor’s blatant disregard for the clan, and the other tunnelers seemed to be riled fiercely.
Wolfstar seemed not to hear the shouts, instead croaking out.
“Smogstripe....after all Hazelfern and I have taught you? After Daisybreeze, becoming a father, a mentor, born and raised...and you betray us? Take a mate outside the borders and desire to leave us with such...hate, in your heart?”
Smogstripe seemed almost regretful for a split second, before the deep determination filled his eyes again and he boomed, the clan quieting enough to hear Smogstripe’s next words.
“Hazelfern is dead. Daisybreeze is dead, Hawkfur is dead, you will inevitably lead yourself to death, and I refuse to give my life to defend a code that keeps me imprisoned under honor and thoughtless loyalty...I have seen reality, Wolfstar. I have found a true purpose, alongside the cat I was destined to be with.”
The dark tom seemed to be finished looking at the hateful eyes of his clanmates, and turned to make his way towards the camp entrance. Wolfstar did not stop him, paws planted in place and breath hardly leaving his body.
“There is nothing in Windclan for me anymore.”
Hawkpaw felt his paws carry him frantically forwards, his body having gone numb in confused shock and hurt.
So that was why Smogstripe had been gone all those times. He had been meeting a filthy, stupid loner, all that time when he should have been tending to the clan that raised him, honored his skills, the clan that he had sworn to protect. Hawkpaw had never felt so stupid in his life. Smogstripe hadn’t been hunting. He’d been off brewing hatred for his own clan.
Hawkpaw’s eyes were wide, and for the first time he could remember, Hawkpaw felt his voice go tight and quiet and desperate rather than furious. The dark brown tom looked at his father’s back, ears pinned behind him.
“But...but what about me, Father? And...and all that you said when mother died, all of those stories you told me? This is our clan! I’m your son! You still have me!” Hawkpaw’s chest puffed out, tail lifted brightly, a foolish hope in his eyes that Smogstripe would stop being a fool and remember the entire life that he had helped to create, standing right at his paws. Hawkpaw respected his father, worked hard to show that he was as loyal and honorable as the very cats Smogstripe had preached about moons ago.
Smogstripe glanced back at his son, and his voice sounded sad for the first time in the whole confrontation. Hawkpaw felt his tail fall slowly, his desperate and confused smile faltering as the blue-eyed tom rasped out.
“Daisybreeze and I never planned for kits so early...we were both fools, jumping into something neither of us truly understood. Everytime I look at you, all I see is her eyes, reminding me of my foolish stupidity and blind love for her and this clan...This is my only regret. Bringing you into this clan that will one day tear you apart. You’ve already got the anger of your kin, an anger I had always wanted to be free of... I can’t…” He stared at Hawkpaw, unable to continue, voice seeming to be caught in his throat, before he turned away.
Hawkpaw felt cold. It was all he could think to feel. Bitterly cold and empty. The words bashed into his skull, bouncing around and fueling the darkest fears of the young apprentice. Hawkpaw wondered coldly if Smogstripe had ever been proud of him. If he had ever even seen him as a son, as something to be proud of. Hawkpaw felt a small voice ache in his head.
You wanted his praise, but you are nothing more than a regret.
The pure silence was the worst part. The clan was slammed into pain and shock and silence, and Hawkpaw knew that everyone had heard Smogstripe’s words. Everyone had heard him get called nothing more than a mistake. A regret.
Hawkpaw had never heard such fierceness and anger and boiling hatred in his own voice, and he felt his body dash forwards, fur bristled and eyes wide.
“Go then! Go and leave! Traitor! Stupid loner loving traitor! I hope you rot! Weak, pathetic, dishonorable-” He gasped for breath as his screams tore from his throat. He didn’t feel the burning in his eyes until his fierce screams had driven Smogstripe out of camp, out of Windclan and out of the life Hawkpaw had spent his whole life honoring.
“I hope you get mauled by foxes and left in the rain! And I hope your filthy loner mate gets mauled too, right at your side, just how you want, huh?! You were always weak! I’m glad you’re leaving, so I don’t have to live up to weakness! I hate you! I hate you,-..I hate…”
Hawkpaw felt the anger vanish from his body, an empty misery curling in his gut as he stood in the open space where Smogstripe had proclaimed himself. Eyes stared at him, from all sides, and Hawkpaw knew there was pity and pain in their eyes. He hated it. He hated their pity, and he hated Smogstripe, and…
“You are banished then! You will never set paw on Windclan territory again, lest I kill you myself! You have brought shame to everything and everyone, to the warrior code and to your own family.”
Wolfstar’s voice was cold and dark, and he flexed his claws violently as he glared at his son’s form as Smogstripe finally disappeared across the crest of the moorlands. Marshflower looked dazed and shattered, and Sandpaw was whispering Hawkpaw’s name over and over, tears in her eyes for her best friend.
He didn’t know how long it was until Echofern had stumbled up to him, breathing hitched and eyes brimming with misery as she pulled his numb body close to her soft pelt, holding the tom she had raised as though he had died. Hawkpaw wanted to slash at her, to hiss and scream, to feel that anger fuel him again...but he just felt empty. Even his healing wounds felt like nothing in comparison to the slices in his heart.
He wanted to cry like Sandpaw, or spit hatred like Silentfeather and Gorseheart and the other warriors were, but even that was impossible. He simply let himself be pulled close to Echofern, staring at the gorse walls with exhausted eyes. He didn’t even hear Wolfstar bark orders for a patrol to make sure Smogstripe was gone, nor did he see his grandfather shove his way into his den. He refused to look at his clanmates anymore, their pity and their stupid, stupid sympathy.
Worst of all, he didn’t know if he could possibly stand looking at his mentor. Scarfur had lost her mate. Even Hawkpaw wasn’t harsh enough to bring his empty pain to his mentor, when she had enough to deal with without a tossed out apprentice wallowing with self-pity.
He felt his chest clench with bitterness, but soon found it replaced with intense drive and icy cold rage.
Fine. He didn’t need Smogstripe. He didn’t need anyone. He’d become a warrior the clan would respect and honor for moons to come. And if he’d ever see that traitor again, he’d show him exactly what a clan cat was made of.
Echofern nudged him silently towards the gorse wall, clearly urging him to rest with her in a motherly notion. Even with his inner assurance, it was pain and misery that truly allowed him to follow his foster mother along, a warrior’s heart bridled by the sadness of a kit who no longer had a father.
He felt Scarfur’s eyes on him as he pushed into the gorse.
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Post by Moonblazer on Aug 7, 2017 10:30:00 GMT -5
Chapter 9
Training. It was all he really put his focus on. The past few days had been little more than purely agonizing, though Hawkpaw refused to let that bring him down. Every word of sympathy from his clanmates only made him angrier, colder, more determined to perfect his skills and prove to everyone that the choices of a traitor wouldn’t dictate his life, nor his emotions.
In his flurry of fighting and hunting, he had all but shoved aside the desire to spend time with anyone but his mentor. He’d ignore Wolfstar and Marshflower unless ordered to pay attention. Echofern kept trying to ask how he was doing, but his responses were always curt. He was fine. He didn’t need to be coddled.
Jaypaw, Duskpaw and Redpaw had begun to steer clear of him as well. Hawkpaw knew they had tried to get him to take a break from training and forcing himself into solitude, but after Hawkpaw had snapped more than once at each of them, they had begun to grow weary and exasperated. Crowpaw and Dawnpaw had simply left him alone, and for that he appreciated them greatly. After all, Crowpaw was forced to handle Wolfstar’s heavy and enraged mood swings. That left Dawnpaw to console her best friend constantly.
Eaglepaw and Sandpaw though, they refused to leave him be. He wouldn’t have minded, especially not with Sandpaw.
But unknowingly, Smogstripe’s departure had changed Hawkpaw. His brash temper was no longer passive nor short-lived. It was deep and cold and slow now, simmering in him constantly. Hawkpaw wanted nothing more than to forget that Smogstripe even existed, but no matter how hard he struck his opponents in training, no matter how many rabbits he’d chased down and killed on the moors, the images of the once glorious dark warrior wouldn’t go away. And with each memory, his anger was fueled by bitter misery.
And the knowledge that he felt such bitter misery only magnified that anger.
Hawkpaw shook his fur, stretched his legs, and waited impatiently against the gorse wall for Scarfur to summon him for training. His amber eyes glared around camp, pointedly avoiding other cats gazes when they stared at him. In fact, he had made it a point to ignore most of the clan.
Well, he tried to.
“Hawkpaw? Cherrydapple gave me the day off. You want to go running with me?” Sandpaw’s bright and hopeful mew stung in his chest. She approached him with both care and desperation, and Hawkpaw could tell that she truly wanted his company. Even so, he felt a spark of doubt in him. Didn’t she understand that he wasn’t a ball of sunshine? That the clan had lost, he had lost, and that right now he needed to focus on training to beat Shadowclan?
No. Perhaps it was he who didn’t understand why she was still yearning to spend time with a cat like him. Smogstripe had said he was a mistake anyway. As much as Hawkpaw wanted to violently deny it, it made no difference. He couldn’t even stay standing in a fight. Sandpaw could, though. Sandpaw was strong, and so fast. She didn’t need him to hold her back.
“I’m waiting to train, Sandpaw.” The words left Hawkpaw’s mouth more sharply than he intended, laced with the venom from his thoughts, and by the time he was done saying the words, it was too late to act gentle for her sake.
Sandpaw’s tail fell quickly, and her blue eyes seemed to blaze with disappointed pain. The wind shook her soft fur, making her look both kit-like and fierce at the same time. She shuffled her paws, puffing out.
“Oh, that’s all you’ve done for days! Surely Scarfur will be fine if you took a small break. I’ve been going running on my own...you used to always race me.” Her voice made Hawkpaw rumble with emotion, an emotion that he hadn’t truly understood yet. An emotion that he didn’t want to feel, not when the sting of Smogstripe’s betrayal was still peeling the innocence from his blazing bones.
“We’re not kits!” He snapped suddenly. The first time he had ever snapped like that at her, and the reaction she had nearly made him freeze with guilt. Her eyes widened, orbs of blue losing their fire and dousing with a distraught flash. He couldn’t stop the flow of words though, knowing he was right. The were not kits. They needed to be stronger, for the sake of the clan.
“I can’t go running around when I could be getting better, working for the clan. I know everything might be happy and perfect for you, but that’s not how life is...Why can’t you see that, Sandpaw?”
Sandpaw stared, wide eyed and struck, as Hawkpaw snapped at her. The hurt in her eyes brimmed until the fire flashed in them again. Her voice was loud, though it was clear that it was hard for her to snap back at him. Her voice rose in pitch every few moments.
“You...you’ve changed! You’ve never yelled at me like you yell at the others. We just want to make sure you’re okay. Why can’t you see that, Hawkpaw?” She barked back, mocking his last words with sharpness. Hawkpaw found himself rippled with annoyance, magnified by the fact that he was currently quarreling with the only cat that had never tripped his rage.
“I’ve matured! At least I have changed, compared to you and Eaglepaw and Jaypaw, who hop and prance around! And I don’t need everyone’s help, everyone to coddle me. I never asked for anyone to waste their time on me.” Hawkpaw growled back, the fur on his back rippling with warning.
“The fact that you think I’m wasting my time when I spend time with you tells me that you’re not mature. You’re just angry and sad and you refuse to let anyone care about you!” Sandpaw’s cry rippled with stubborn pain. And she was right, wasn’t she? Neither of them were mature. Neither of them knew how to handle this.
“I’m not weak. I don’t need other cats to lick my fur or groom my whiskers. Maybe you should do the same, Sandpaw. The precious deputy’s apprentice, with the perfect family. You’re just perfect, aren’t you? Winning every spar, running faster than the rest of us, so full of sunshine and mousebrained rainbows!”
Hawkpaw’s built up envy was starting to show. His anger was not towards Sandpaw, but at fate, at the love Echofern and Twistedpath always gave Sandpaw and Jaypaw. The family Hawkpaw had grown up with, yes...but he knew better. He was not their family, no matter how much it seemed Echofern thought that way.
The envy that she was successful and knew who she was supposed to be, that she could find light in the deepest darkness while he had to struggle to find the slightest light anywhere.
Sandpaw’s anger seemed to melt into harsh sadness.
“Stop it! You’re blaming me for something I can’t control. It’s not my fault your…”
“Go on! Say it.” Hawkpaw dared furiously, too bitter and cold to even consider how dreadful he was being to the miserable she-cat.
Sandpaw didn’t say it though, instead closing her eyes and sniffing.
“You’re being a jerk, you know that?”
Hawkpaw felt a part of himself roar out, screaming for him to stop padding down such a dreadful path. Sandpaw was his best friend. He had never thought this of her before. He had never ever wanted to see her upset like this.
His pride and anger drove him anyway, and he felt confused and frantic. He turned his head away sharply, refusing to look at the slouched form of Sandpaw.
“Grow up, Sandpaw. Or you’ll only suffer.” He growled quietly, expecting to be leaped at or shouted at once more, only to sit in sudden silence. After moments passed, the silence was unbearable, and he turned his head back to her, only to freeze when the space she had been residing in was empty. She had left, and it made him feel only more hollow.
You did this to yourself. This is what you wanted, right? Now nothing can distract you from your goals.
The voice in his mind assured him sharply, though it did nothing to quell the ache in his heart. He sighed deeply to himself, pushing the burning sensation in his eyes away. Sandpaw would see that he was right, and they’d both be stronger for it. Though, he knew deep down he had pushed her away, the only cat he had ever really felt happy with.
He didn’t deserve happiness anyway. Not until he proved himself as a real warrior of Windclan. It was better this way...
“Hawkpaw.”
Hawkpaw shot his head up, having not noticed the tall figure of his mentor gazing at him. Scarfur’s muzzle twitched lightly, and Hawkpaw noticed the lines of tiredness and heaviness under his mentor’s eyes. Hawkfur’s death had crushed a part of her, a part that he knew she tried to hide. While Hawkpaw usually thought of his mentor with annoyance, he did have to commend her ability to take her grief and transform it into determination and dedication for the clan. She didn’t complain about her feelings, her sadness, and instead brunted through it.
He looked up at her and answered promptly.
“I’m ready for training, Scarfur. I want to get those battle moves down as soon as possible.” He demanded, amber eyes sparking even as his voice shook slightly from the sour twinge of his quarrel with Sandpaw. He hoped the burn in his muscles and the usual back and forth banter between he and Scarfur would get him back on track.
It seemed Scarfur had other ideas. Her green eyes were more stern and sharp than usual, which was saying quite alot. She lashed her tail, but simply turned and began padding towards the gorse tunnel. She glowered out, tight and controlled.
“I need a word with you before we do anything.”
Hawkpaw bristled on instinct. He knew this tone well. This was Scarfur’s most strict tone. The one she used when she was genuinely angered, not annoyed or impatient. The ones that he hated the most.
He didn’t voice his complaints though, finding himself more begrudgingly cooperative ever since Smogstripe had left the clan. He assured himself that he too mature to whine like a kit now. He needed to step up where Smogstripe had crumbled down. He couldn’t let the clan ever think he was a coward like his father. He followed his mentor with heavy pawsteps, ignoring the cooling to the warm air as clouds began swelling across the moorland sky.
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Scarfur didn’t take him far. They had gone in the direction of Outlook rock, Scarfur pausing in her pawsteps about half-way across the moorlands. She whipped around suddenly, looking at Hawkpaw with narrowed eyes.
“Many of the warriors are telling me that you’ve been lashing out at them, and at the other apprentices. You’ve been ignoring your aunt and Echofern when they try and ask of you. I heard what you said to Sandpaw, and I’ve heard how you’ve been speaking to your denmates.”
Her voice rippled in Hawkpaw’s brain, his muscles tensing defensively and angrily at her implications. Starclan, didn’t she of all cats understand? He glared up at her, grunting out.
“I’m fine. I don’t need other cats asking about me every 10 seconds. I just want to do my duties. Isn’t that what I’m an apprentice for? Warriors don’t goof off.” He lashed his own tail, trying to press down the rising tightness in his throat, a tightness he couldn’t explain.
This only seemed to further bother Scarfur, and the older she-cat sat down sharply, a hefty sigh escaping her jaws. She shook her head and growled.
“I know it’s hard for you. I know you feel like you need to right some sort of wrong that you think you’ve done, but that’s not right. We lost alot, this moon, the last thing you need is to alienate yourself from cats who care for you, Hawkpaw.”
“What, like you? Like Eaglepaw and the other apprentices? All you do is pity me! Like I’m some legless kit, like I can’t take care of myself! Well guess what? I’ve been taking care of myself for moons, long before that traitor left, and I’m becoming a better warrior than any of the apprentices. Especially when they run around like nothing happened!” Hawkpaw felt the words tumble from his jaws, his voice hot and heavy with pent up anger. What did Scarfur care? He was getting much stronger, much more respectable. Wasn’t that the more preferable path for a mentor to appreciate for their apprentice?
“We’ll never beat Shadowclan when the warriors and apprentices are too busy crying over me. I don’t need anyone!”
Scarfur was silenced at that, and for a moment, Hawkpaw felt a flare of victory for actually silencing his mentor for once. Though, the victory was short lived, and Hawkpaw felt himself flatten his ears as Scarfur gave him a chilling and disappointed look. He hated it more than anything.
“The only thing you’re becoming is bitter and selfish, and you’re reflecting your anger onto cats who don’t deserve a single scrap of it. How ungrateful, to refuse the she-cats who helped raise you to care for you in your pain. How nasty, to lash out at Sandpaw like that. You were already on thin ice from the start with your insistence to push everyone away from you, yet the one cat who arguably cares for you the most and who tolerates your vicious temper is treated like rabbit dung. You can be angry and you can be in pain. Smogstripe abandoned you and the clan, and for that, I am sorry with every fiber of my being. But that gives you no right to lash out at your clanmates.”
Hawkpaw felt his chest clench with a deep and brutal shame and fury. Scarfur’s words sliced into his heart and made his paws shudder with desire to flex claws and slash at her. He bared his teeth, amber eyes flashing.
“You don’t know me! You’re not my mother, or my father! You’re just a scarred scrap of fur, and you’re just as messed up and angry as I am!” He lashed out, immaturity and defensiveness clouding his tone and judgement. It made it worse when Scarfur only flicked her tail, calm and fierce and scolding.
“Are you finished? You might think you’re getting better by pretending you’re unwavering in the face of loss, but all you’ve done is show me that you’ve not matured a day. I’ve prevented myself from saying what you need to hear for days because I respected that you went through something no cat should have to face, but I will not tolerate my apprentice treating my clan like his scratching tree. You keep this up, and you will lose the cats who have done nothing but love you.”
Hawkpaw hissed out, feeling like a fool when his eyes burned with tears of anger.
“Then tell Wolfstar to give me to someone else! Just because you can get over Hawkfur dying and Smogstripe leaving doesn’t mean I have to also! What do you care? It’s not like I made you proud, get rid of me like the rest then!”
Scarfur shouted out in an instant, eyes blazing with a break in her control that Hawkpaw both relished in and recoiled away from. No amount of bravado could have stopped him or any warrior from flinching away from the frightening fury of his mentor.
“Don’t you dare speak of Hawkfur like I don’t mourn him every moment of my life! I watched the blood drain from his body, and I buried him with my heart in tatters, but never, not once, have I ever lashed out at my clanmates for it. Even if I think I didn’t need their worry, I understand that hurting them won’t make my pain go away. You think I don’t care for you? Hawkpaw, you are all that I have left to consider my own. You are my apprentice, and you may not ever realize it, but I’ve always cared for you, from the moment you put your nose to mine.”
She took a quick breath, and Hawkpaw knew he couldn’t speak with the knot in his throat. She continued harshly, the air whistling with wind and carrying their brutal words across the sprawling grass.
“It’s as much my job to help you emotionally as it is to help you physically. You want to be a good warrior? Then you need to grow up…” The fire seemed to die out from the green eyes trained on him, and Hawkpaw silently realized just how much Scarfur had seen, how much this had hurt her.
He wanted nothing more than to shout back, but could only feel himself tremble with pure shame and misery. He grit his teeth, feeling more lost than ever before. He whipped his head to the side in defeated anger, refusing to look at Scarfur. His mentor sighed heavily, standing back up on her paws and speaking out calmly.
“We will not be doing any battle training until you work this out. Until you truly understand what it means to respect your clan, your tasks will focus on serving your clanmates. Battling means nothing when you’re only fighting for yourself. And when we’re not hunting or caring for the queens and elders, you will run and work with your denmates until you apologize to them for lashing out. Until you mean it.”
She moved close to him in a moment of tenderness, a motion that brought the stinging tears back to his fiery eyes once more. He didn’t turn his head back to her, even when she drew him towards her with a firm paw, pulling him into a short embrace.
“I’m not doing this to punish you, Hawkpaw. I don’t want to see you descend further into your pain. I’ve seen what that can do to cats, what it has almost done to me. I don’t want to see it happen to you.”
Scarfur stepped back after the short moment, and Hawkpaw could only stew in his overwhelming emotions. He croaked out heavily, too proud to beg but too stung to speak rashly as he usually did.
“I just want to run, Scarfur. Can we just run?”
He wondered if she had finally caved in due to the heaviness in his voice or the defeat in his eyes, but the senior warrior only blinked for a moment. She finally nodded, and mewed.
“Very well. We’ll run, alright? I’ll keep close, but I’ll let you think of your own volition. Hawkpaw, Windclan needs you now more than ever. But you cannot be there if you shut it away.”
Her paws moved, sending the dark grey and white warrior into a run. Hawkpaw could only watch after her, before he pushed away the weight in his chest and forced his own legs to move. He wished Scarfur’s words didn’t affect him so much. Nothing hurt him more than realizing just how deeply Smogstripe’s betrayal had shattered him.
Apologize. He was expected to apologize to his clanmates. Why was he always the one to apologize? Nobody ever apologized to him when they snapped at him. Windclan never apologized to anybody, and wasn’t that the way it was supposed to be?
He knew deep in his cooling heart that it wasn’t supposed to be that way. Even if Eaglepaw and Sandpaw and Dawnpaw and the others wanted to act like kits...there was nothing to come from alienating himself from them. He remembered seeing Sandpaw and Dawnpaw fight back to back, pushing away Shadowclan warriors, eyes bright and voices trading as one. He felt a surge of envy, that stung at his chest. Sandpaw was supposed to fight with him like that.
And now he had insulted her, and claimed she only acted like a kit. Hah. Sandpaw was already better than most. What kit could be as fast and skilled as her? He suddenly felt burning fury, but not at her.
At himself.
He ran across the fresh moorland grass, claws scoring the earth as he trailed distractedly after Scarfur.
-----------------------
By the time they had returned, the camp was buzzing with frantic distress. Cats were pacing outside the medicine den, and Hawkpaw found himself ignoring the aching in his paws and legs to push his way towards the gathering cats. Scarfur remained a few pawsteps in front of him, though she clearly had much more ease making her way through.
Hawkpaw gave a grunt of annoyance, turning and looking around. He spotted Rabbitpaw trying to poke his head through, the younger tom’s green eyes bulging with worry. Hawkpaw approached him, prodding the tom sharply.
“What’s going on? Why is the clan all worked up?”
Rabbitpaw jumped a bit, only to calm himself and face Hawkpaw worriedly.
“I couldn’t see in there, but Foxstep’s really sick! My mentor’s freaking out, Frozenfang keeps saying it came out of nowhere!”
“Frozenfang is young and paranoid...but he has a point.” Tansytail’s rasp was sharp with calm yet weary conflict. Hawkpaw watched the small brown elder as she paced furiously, clearly too distraught to go back into the den. Hawkpaw then remembered brutally, that Tansytail and Foxstep were siblings. That her sister had fallen ill so suddenly. This certainly was bad. Foxstep was the Medicine Cat. The fact that she was falling ill and creaking with old age was by no means a good sign. For a moment, even Hawkpaw felt a flash of warning.
Hawkpaw opened his jaws to ask exactly what illness had overtaken the Medicine Cat, but Tansytail was already hobbling back into the den, wheezing with desperation. Hawkpaw knew Rabbitpaw wouldn’t have any viable information, so he stalked quickly away from the tom. Hawkpaw’s amber eyes sought out other apprentices and warriors, only to be cuffed on the leg quickly and sharply by a large paw.
“Hey!” He hissed, turning to see an unusually angry Eaglepaw and Jaypaw. Hawkpaw turned to face them, shaking his head.
“I don’t have time to do this. I need to know-”
“Why did you say all that fodder to Sandpaw? You know, that’s real low, she doesn’t deserve that. I don’t know why you’re being like this, but you have to cut it out!” Eaglepaw was clearly protective, and for some reason it sparked an instinctive flare of anger in Hawkpaw. Jaypaw clearly agreed with the taller tom, as the tom’s pale eyes narrowed.
Hawkpaw gaped.
“Now? You want to confront me now, of all times? Do you not see the crowd around you?” He motioned sharply to the worried Windclan cats surrounding the medicine den. The words seemed to make the other apprentices falter a bit, but Jaypaw was quick to return to the conflict.
“You just now got back! You’ve been out all day, again!...I thought we were friends, we’ve all spent our entire lives together, and I know you’re upset, but...but Sandpaw was really hurt. Sandpaw’s never sad like that, and…”
Hawkpaw swallowed, unable to prevent his eyes from averting. He shook his head, mewing out with a twinge of self-hatred and defensiveness.
“I know I upset her. You don’t need to remind me.”
If his words had any impact on Eaglepaw’s anger, it didn’t seem to show, and the taller tom only shook his head sharply, tail lashing as he snuffed.
“Sooner or later your anger will only leave you lonely. And if you don’t want to treat Sandpaw like a real friend, then I’ll be happy to do it instead.”
Hawkpaw’s head whipped up sharply, a fierce and almost instinctive flash of shock and aggravation filling his chest. Not to mention a tremor of deep envy. Envy because Eaglepaw could easily persuade Sandpaw to prefer his company, rather than Hawkpaw’s. The thought almost...scared him. The thought of Sandpaw running across the moors and training and laughing together with Eaglepaw instead of him. They were so alike, so bright and happy, that Hawkpaw suddenly felt his chest tightening.
Before he could lunge at Eaglepaw, who was bristled in preperation for just that, he felt Jaypaw tug at his tail and bark out.
“Cut it out! We’re not going to fight in the middle of camp!...I-I think Foxstep’s getting worse…” Jaypaw’s urgent mew had trailed off to quiet worry, when he turned to look at the medicine den. Hawkpaw followed Jaypaw’s gaze to where he could see a few of the warriors chattering loudly.
“Brownfur, she’s going to be okay, right?”
The sheer worry in Gorseheart’s mew outlined the slender moor-runner’s anxious nature, and the press of Swiftpool’s pelt to her sister’s tense form seemed to do nothing to soothe the young warrior’s worry. Brownfur was quick to answer, his frazzled pelt and jittery voice the same as always.
“Foxstep is resting. I’ve regulated the fever, b-but all this crowding isn’t helping her! I’m doing my best.”
“I should hope so! We’ve trusted our lives with Foxstep more than any cat in the clan. What medicine cat apprentice can’t cure his own mentor?” Silentfeather’s fierce mew sounded from the gathered cats, and Hawkpaw could practically see the nervousness and harshness gleaming in the dark grey she-cat’s eyes. Her outburst seemed to trigger a sharp mood change, and Hawkpaw pinned his ears back when Swiftpool turned a defensive glare upon her.
“Silentfeather! Brownfur’s been doing just as much if not more for us in these past moons. You can’t possibly blame him for this!”
Silentfeather’s pelt bristled sharply, as she glared at her fellow moor-runner. Hawkpaw awaited a fierce retort, though it never came, as Cherrydapple rushed between the crowd of cats and ordered sharply.
“Cut it out! Our medicine cat is ill and you’re quarreling? This is only going to make it worse. Brownfur, keep doing what you’re doing to keep her stable. Silentfeather, calm your nerves and take out a hunting patrol for me. I want Riversway, Whitefur and Hillstrike with you. As for the rest of you, I want a border patrol down the gorge for the dusk. Wrenburrow, take Molenose, Yellowfoot, and Rockpaw with you. Remaining warriors will compose themselves and disperse. Am I understood?”
Hawkpaw found himself admiring Cherrydapple’s growing confidence each passing day. While he still felt she had a secret to hide, it didn’t stop her from taking her rank more seriously. For a moment, Hawkpaw wondered if Silentfeather would argue, but to his relief she merely whipped around and gathered her patrol with a lashing tail. Wrenburrow, who had become a warrior once again once Rabbitpaw and Quailpaw received their names, was also moving to take out her patrol.
Rockpaw followed her with a less than happy look in his eyes, the brown tabby tom trailing with his tail to the ground. He had been very similar to Hawkpaw in his decline in happiness since his mentor’s betrayal, and it was clear he was still getting used to Wrenburrow being his new mentor. Even so, he paced alongside Yellowfoot and Molenose.
Brownfur couldn’t seem to get away fast enough, rushing back into the medicine den as the crowd of cats reluctantly split apart. Hawkpaw watched just long enough to notice Wolfstar himself slip out of the medicine den after Brownfur entered. The dark furred leader’s eyes were heavy with angered worry, and he seemed to gaze at Cherrydapple for a moment, before the anger dissipated from his body, and he blinked at her with a grateful and even admirable look. The deputy returned his long glance with one that Hawkpaw could only guess to be deep assurance. Even so, the small exchange had Hawkpaw bubbling with both suspicion and confusion.
Either way, the camp cleared out once more, and Hawkpaw found himself lost for a response. Instead, he took a deep breath and turned to return to his confrontation with Eaglepaw, only to blink with wide eyes, realizing he had slipped away while Hawkpaw had been watching the commotion. Hawkpaw grit his teeth, and watched as Jaypaw gave him a conflicted look, before the pale furred tom turned his head, Tunnelmud’s sharp call drawing him back to his mentor.
Hawkpaw turned to look sharply around camp, only to feel his heart clench when he saw Eaglepaw’s calico pelt across camp, the tom speaking to Sandpaw, close to her and waving his tail sharply. Ambertail and Kestrelbreeze approached the two, and Hawkpaw felt a wave of heaviness when he realized they were going out of camp. Envy stirred in him again, but it wasn’t envy that raked at his chest.
It was the heavy blue gaze of Sandpaw’s eyes that locked with his fiery amber, that tore at him. She turned her head pointedly, and Hawkpaw felt his claws tear at grass when he saw her brush past Eaglepaw, her voice brightening to challenge him to a race, to which Eaglepaw boasted his skill. They followed the two moor-runners, and Hawkpaw could only wallow in his bitterness as he watched them go.
The clouds greyed in the distance.
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Post by Moonblazer on Aug 7, 2017 10:30:14 GMT -5
Chapter 10
Hawkpaw’s mood had only seemed to sour as quickly as Foxstep’s health. It was truly a cause for fear, how quickly and harshly the clan’s medicine cat had crumpled down into her nest. Her coughs stopped for no herbs, and her pelt shook with each wheezing breath. Hawkpaw deemed himself foolish, for not noticing until now just how old she was. The dreary weather over the past few days didn’t help either.
With the sun covered by swaths of grey cloud, the usually warm Greenleaf air became cool and musky. Cool air rushed across the moorlands now, and while the clan worked with its normal flow, there seemed to be a spark of anxiousness zipping around. Tansytail refused to leave her sister’s side, to the displeasure of Brownfur. Hawkpaw snorted, the poor tom would grow grey hairs with how crowded he was. It was clear the medicine cat apprentice was gifted, but lacked social skills and the ability to manage large groups.
I need to stop musing in these endless thoughts. I’m on a patrol!
He reminded himself sharply, his amber gaze returning to the back of Scarfur’s head. The warrior was still, poised and patient as she waited for the rabbit to leave its hollow. Hawkpaw knew that right underground, flushing the rabbit out towards them, was Darkstorm and her apprentice, Quailpaw. Hawkpaw had faith in Quailpaw’s success in aiding the powerful tunneler. Between her and Rabbitpaw, she was far more focused and cunning. A shame. She could have been a good Moor-runner. He waited to the far side, his own body crouched in case the rabbit shot out to the side and out of Scarfur’s range. Hawkpaw licked his chaps, thrumming with determination to catch some prey.
In a flash, a brown mass darted from the tunnel, Darkstorm’s muzzle snapping after the prey as the black she-cat’s head poked from the tunnel. She watched as Scarfur lunged forward, only to hiss in annoyance when the rabbit darted towards another tunnel. The rabbit almost seemed in the clear, until another head and pair of jaws snapped from the tunnel the rabbit darted towards. Quailpaw!
The rabbit panicked, and bolted right in Hawkpaw’s direction. With a toothy snarl, the lean apprentice shot forward and buried his claws in the rabbit’s pelt. He dragged the prey down with all of his might, and clamped his teeth into the squealing prey’s neck, killing it quickly. Hawkpaw panted lightly from the sudden effort, but quickly stood and shook his fur, holding the prey up as best as he could. It was rather hard, with how heavy the prey was.
Even so, the calm approval of Scarfur and the bright glow of awe in Quailpaw’s eyes drove his own pride, and he puffed his chest. Placing it down, he snickered.
“Gotta be quicker next time, Scarfur!”
“Watch that mouth. One good catch isn’t going to soften me up on you.” Scarfur cuffed his ear as she approached, and while her voice was stern and sharp as always, there was an underlying tone of teasing in there. Hawkpaw still had qualms with his mentor, but slowly the talk they had previously had the apprentice more keen on communicating with her. She was still a snappy furball, but now she was more tolerable for sure.
“Yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes, before his attention was drawn by Darkstorm’s rough and rusty rumble.
“Don’t forget that it was Quailpaw who made that catch possible. Had she not been in that tunnel, we’d have no prey. Good work, Quailpaw. You judged the scenarios and chose the most efficient tunnel to block.” The dark she-cat nodded to the apprentice. If Scarfur had high expectations, than Darkstorm’s were towering. This was clearly Quailpaw’s line of thinking too, as her eyes beamed with shy happiness at her mentor’s praise.
“I-it was nothing, really. You’re the one to thank, for teaching me so well.” The kind apprentice responded to her mentor, before approaching Hawkpaw and purring.
“And your catch was so quick! I can see why moor-runners are the fastest cats in the clans.” It was clear she was reaching out a paw of friendship.
In this tumultuous time, with his heaviness at Sandpaw’s attention training on Eaglepaw, the brown tom took the paw and ran with it. He nodded.
“Thanks, Quailpaw. For a tunneler, you have some good skills.” His usual tone of confidence caused the younger she-cat to roll her eyes, even as her purring grew louder.
“As nice as this gratitude fest is, we should continue for more prey. There should be some black birds over there.” Scarfur interrupted, her tail pointing towards a far hill. The land behind it was hidden beyond the tall crest. The moor-runner continued, her green eyes training on Darkstorm.
“If you and Quailpaw can frighten them on the other side of the crest, Hawkpaw and I can try and snag them from the sky.”
Darkstorm had a calm yet questioning doubt in her eyes, as she snorted sharply.
“Hawkpaw’s learned how to dash for blackbirds? I thought you were having trouble with that one.”
Hawkpaw’s eyes flashed with heated annoyance, but surprisingly it was Scarfur who answered with an assured and ticked tone.
“Of course, Darkstorm. Do you doubt my abilities as a mentor? Or Hawkpaw’s ability as a Windclan apprentice? Keep your nose to your own apprentice, yes?” She flicked her tail. Hawkpaw was sure that Darkstorm would snap back with her trademark ferocity, but instead the tunneler merely rumbled.
“Never change, Scarfur. We’ll see how it goes. I don’t doubt you or Hawkpaw. I am merely surprised is all. It’s the hardest hunting technique we have.”
“That’s not saying much.” Hawkpaw snorted boldly, his eyes meeting Darkstorm’s without falter.
“We mainly hunt rabbits. The only other prey we catch is the occasional mouse and these blackbirds. That’s what, three techniques?”
“I see he’s not changed much in the mouthy department.” Darkstorm huffed, her eyes sharpening as she turned and sighed.
“Very well. Come on then. We don’t want to lose the flock, do we?” The dark warrior moved onwards, signaling for Quailpaw to follow. The young apprentice shot Hawkpaw and Scarfur a sheepish look for her mentor’s sake, and she rushed after the tunneler.
Hawkpaw gave a gruff rumble of aggravation. Scarfur only brushed her tail across his shoulder and instructed.
“Prove her wrong if it bothers you so much. But do it with honor, not with arrogance. That is why your clanmates jibe at you.”
“They should keep their noses to their apprentices.” Hawkpaw gave his mentor a chiding look, earning him a cuff and a snuff of annoyance. Hawkpaw shook his pelt and mused.
“Let’s go catch those birds and rub them in Darkstorm’s face.”
Scarfur tossed him another look, though it was clear the older she-cat was also in the mood to get a paw up on Darkstorm. As much as the two warriors respected each other, and as wise as they both seemed, they also had tempers that could match Hawkpaw’s, and were competitive in their desires to serve the clan. One as a moor runner, the other as a tunneler.
True to the plan, it didn’t take long for Quailpaw and Darkstorm to circle widely around the flock of birds and begin dashing up the hill. Right below the crest, Scarfur crouched low, motioning for Hawkpaw to do the same. Hawkpaw lowered himself as the birds shot upwards and over the crest of the hill like a black cloud. With trained accuracy and speed, Scarfur dashed and sprung up, plucking a bird from the air and bringing it down to the ground to deliver the killing blow.
Hawkpaw attempted the same, determined to show Darkstorm just how capable he was as a hunter. While his form was not as pristine as Scarfur’s, he did feel his paws connect successfully to the black feathers of one of the smaller blackbirds. He pulled down with all his might and rolled with the catch. The bird tried to flutter away, but Hawkpaw felt a burst of speed from his body, and he lunged at the prey with a hiss. He bit down and finished it, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
“And that, is how you catch birds.” Scarfur mewed pointedly as Darkstorm and Quailpaw approached, both tunnelers a little short of breath from the running they did. Darkstorm looked at the blackbirds and gave a snort, but did not mew an argument in reply. Quailpaw was more vocal, her voice soft and approving as she mewed.
“This’ll feed plenty of cats. I’d say we did pretty great today!” She looked at her mentor for approval, and while Darkstorm only gave a terse nod, it was enough for the young she-cat, who flicked her tail with a gentle purr.
Scarfur flicked her ears at Hawkpaw’s side, and he could see her piercing green eyes shooting upwards at the darkening sky as the wind began to pick up. One of the gusts was so strong it had nearly taken Hawkpaw off his paws, and had sent Quailpaw stumbling to keep her own balance. Hawkpaw then noticed his mentor’s clear concern. Even Darkstorm looked tense, the tunneler lashing her tail and admonishing.
“We should get back to camp. This wind is dreadfully strong today. You two can rest.”
Hawkpaw liked the sound of that, and made no argument as the she-cats began to file back towards the thick gorse walls of the camp. The moors whistled with the sharp wind, a hint of a shudder coming up Hawkpaw’s spine at the sound. The grasses whipped around and the sky smogged with thick grey clouds. Was a storm approaching? Hawkpaw inwardly hoped not. Storms were awfully annoying, and he hated the cold.
The moment he entered camp though, he felt himself wishing he hadn’t. He could see Sandpaw and Eaglepaw speaking with each other, the mottled she-cat giving a bright peal of laughter as he seemed to share a joke with her. To their side, Redpaw was giggling as well, and Crowpaw was rolling his eyes with humored exasperation. Hawkpaw hated to admit it, but seeing them all there laughing so naturally made his chest prickle with emotion. Was he envious? Was he disappointed in their wasting of time? He didn’t really know anymore.
What he did know, was that the camp was buzzing with activity as usual, but there was an incredible scent of anxiousness from a lot of the clan. Clearly the weather was affecting everybody. Underneath it, Foxstep’s illness contrasted with a heavy bitter scent that made Hawkpaw grimace. Starclan, she really was in bad shape. He tore his gaze away from Sandpaw, forcing his heaviness down as he decided to go see if he could do anything for her.
That was, until he noticed Quailpaw padding towards him, her eyes flickering with a sense of hesitation and yearning that befuddled him. He snorted.
“Something wrong?”
She seemed to be a bit surprised by the response, but Quailpaw was quick to shake her head and mew out.
“Oh. No, nothing’s wrong. I just...I suppose I wanted to see if you wanted to talk. I just-you seem really distracted, and I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Hawkpaw blinked at that, his voice a mixture of suspicion and surprise.
“Talk? With me? Huh. You know, I was certain you’d fancy talking to those furballs more than you’d ever want to talk to me.” He rolled his eyes and lashed his tail towards the group of chatting apprentices. He could see Quailpaw’s face warp into one of nervousness and denial. She shuffled her paws and shrugged.
“I...don’t think I’d fit in well with them. I’m not the best at socializing, and I really, really don’t mean this in a bad way but...I don’t think you’re very good at it either, so we’re, uhm...we’re pretty alike.”
Hawkpaw wanted to feel angry at the statement, but it was hard to when Quailpaw was looking at him with such pleading and unsure eyes. He merely huffed and sat on his haunches, giving a bitter snort.
“And what makes you think I’d be a better cat to hang out with?”
“Rabbitpaw told me what the others said about you making Sandpaw upset. How you won’t talk to her or apologize…”
Hawkpaw’s ears flattened at her words, and he felt a flicker of sour indignation as he snapped in reply.
“It’s nobody’s business but our own! Maybe I don’t want to apologize because I didn’t do anything that needs apologizing for. If anyone won’t talk to me, it’s her and her stupid posse.” Hawkpaw took a breath to calm himself down, bubbling with anger.
At least, until Quailpaw gave him a sad and knowing look. For such a young apprentice, she was awfully observant, and awfully good at reading the atmosphere. She looked at Hawkpaw for a moment before her words sank into his mind.
“You do want to apologize. I can tell by the way you keep looking over there at her when you think nobody’s looking. I know you and her were really close, and I know that Sandpaw is one of the kindest and friendliest cats in Windclan. All you have to do is apologize, and talk about it. I bet a moon’s worth of prey that it’ll be all that it takes.”
“It’s not that simple.” Hawkpaw muttered. “She has Eaglepaw now. And everyone else. She doesn’t need me anyway. And I don’t need her…”
“You’re a brave and dedicated apprentice.” Quailpaw replied gently. Her green eyes trained on him as she gave a small sigh and shook her head.
“But you’re an awful liar. Just...think about it, okay? Windclan is stronger when we communicate, and when we work together, right? And, well, I’m here for you too. Talking is hard, but I just want you to know that I can be your friend too.”
Hawkpaw felt a part of him bristle at the show of pity. But a wiser part of himself admonished that she was just trying to make him feel better. While he despised admitting so, perhaps she was right. Perhaps he was being a fool, for withholding an apology. His mind flashed back to his kithood, when he had disrespected the queens. Marshflower had made him feel so foolish and cruel that day, for snapping at she-cats who had cared for him since his birth.
He just wished he knew how to get rid of the burning pain in his heart from his father’s betrayal, leaving him alone. No mother, no father. No matter how hard Echofern and Twistedpath had tried to make him feel like he was a part of their nest, he knew deep down he’d never feel like their, or anyone else’s kit. He was the son of Daisybreeze, a dead warrior, and Smogstripe, a warrior he wished was dead.
He wished he could truly wish his father was dead. The stupid prickle in his heart sent a surge of self-hate. He still loved his father, deep down. After all he had done to him, to Windclan, Hawkpaw missed him with all his being. He grit his teeth, letting the lump in his throat pass as he forced the emotions down. No. He couldn’t let himself fall like this. Not in front of Quailpaw. He swallowed, looking at her.
“Well...thanks, I guess. I meant it, you know. You were really helpful on the hunt. I wouldn’t mind partnering up with you again.” He let himself give a nod of approval, and felt a bit better seeing Quailpaw’s eyes light up with shy appreciation.
“Anytime, Hawkpaw...When the time comes, I know you’ll find a way to make it up to Sandpaw. You both deserve to be happy. Uhm, were you heading towards the medicine den?” At Hawkpaw’s nod, the tunneler apprentice gave a quick nod.
“Mind if I come with you? I’m real worried about Foxstep, and I wanted to see if Brownfur needed any help.”
“Great minds think alike.” Hawkpaw grunted, giving Quailpaw a serious look.
“We’re no good if our medicine cat is shriveling up in front of us. Brownfur’s bound to have something to do. Besides, if we offer to help, Wolfstar will surely think highly of us.”
“And maybe choose us for the next battle, or gathering first.” Quailpaw seemed to give a hopeful and innocent look that Hawkpaw found himself stifling a sharp snicker at. Huh. Being friends with Quailpaw wasn’t a bad idea at all. For a cat that seemed so gentle and soft-spoken, she was dedicated and clever. While he didn’t feel the same feelings he did when he was around Sandpaw, he found it easy to talk to the younger she-cat. It was better than spending his time alone, he supposed.
“Precisely. Come on.” He waved his tail and began leading the way to the medicine den. They slipped past Tunnelmud, who was grooming a squirming Rabbitpaw. Quailpaw’s brother gave a grunt of annoyance, eyes pleading as he begged.
“Come on, I look fine! Duskpaw’s gonna show me a cool move, I don’t want to miss it!” The brown and white tom tried to escape his father’s grasp, and after a few moments, Tunnelmud let up, mewing with his deep and calm voice.
“Fine. You look decent enough. Don’t get that messy again, or I’ll put you in the gorge water instead. Get out of here.” He chuckled, ushering his son away. Rabbitpaw sprang excitedly towards the group of apprentices, calling out as he dashed past them.
“Hi Quailpaw! Hawkpaw!”
Hawkpaw could only blink with slight exasperation, though he noticed Quailpaw purring warmly. It was genuine, how much she cared for her brother, in the way Redpaw cared for Eaglepaw and Duskpaw, and the way Sandpaw cared for Jaypaw. Another flash of emotion filled him. Did he have siblings once? Would he have been happier having them? He shook his head, tired of his self-pity. He lifted his head and continued on towards the medicine den, pushing his way in and nearly padding straight into Wolfstar.
The dark leader seemed to be in the middle of arguing with Tansytail, Brownfur pacing nervously as the leader narrowed his eyes, the elder giving a harsh snap of her own as she wheezed.
“You might be leader but Foxstep is my sister, and I taught you everything you know to get you your name and-” The brown elder cut off as Hawkpaw and Quailpaw stood in the entrance. Wolfstar’s head whipped around and his anger seemed to simmer into a grumpy acceptance. He gave a hearty sigh and looked at his grandson and his companion.
“What do you two need?”
Hawkpaw looked up at the powerful tom before him, always feeling a need to square his shoulders and straighten his posture to perfection when he was face to face with him. Before he could answer though, Qauilpaw’s shaky mew came through.
“U-uhm, we wanted to see if we could help Brownfur...w-with anything, and with all the stress in camp.” She was clever, Hawkpaw realized, to not mention directly that their desire to help stemmed from worry for Foxstep’s health. The dark grey tom seemed to quickly gain an air of approval, looking at the two apprentices with proud firmness.
“Excellent idea. I saw the prey you and your mentors brought back. And now with your insistence to help your medicine cats, Windclan could learn from your dedication. I’m pleased with you both.”
Hawkpaw felt a flutter of genuine contentment, always warmed whenever he earned the praise of Wolfstar, a notoriously stern and hard to please leader. His grandfather was so strong, so dedicated, and while Hawkpaw inherited his streak of anger, he hoped one day he’d inherit his strength and pride.
Perhaps even his rank, too.
His thoughts were interrupted by Brownfur’s voice, rippled with relief and anxiousness.
“Oh, some help would be great. Can you two help me pull the dead herbs away from the good ones? They’ll have a sour scent, and will be browned and brittle.” The medicine cat apprentice already had piles of herbs across the ground, but it was clear by the flickering of his green eyes that he wanted to keep a close eye on Foxstep.
Hawkpaw could only follow his gaze and feel a spark of concern at Foxstep’s state. She was shuddering in her nest, fur clumped and eyes glazed. They were nearly closed in her exhaustion and illness. Even so, Tansytail seemed perfectly fine, not a trace of illness to her. Was Foxstep suffering from an illness that was not contagious? Hazelfern had died from something similar, he had been told. He pricked his ears as he heard Foxstep muttering mindlessly to the air.
While he couldn’t make out the words, it was clear Brownfur was able to, and that it made him increasingly tense and frantic. Hawkpaw quickly moved to assure the stressed tom.
“Yeah, simple enough. We’ll get it done quickly. Don’t worry, Brownfur.”
Quailpaw nodded her agreement, and Hawkpaw felt satisfied that he was able to help calm the medicine cat apprentice enough to get him back on track. Brownfur gave a quick mew of gratitude, and called to Wolfstar.
“I’ll keep trying. I’ll use every technique I know. It’s alright if Tansytail is here. She helps soothe her, I think.” The brown tom glanced to where Wolfstar’s former mentor and the medicine cat were curled together. The leader’s cold blue eyes flickered up and down, tracing over the sisters before he finally admitted a reluctant defeat. Hawkpaw knew his grandfather was very close to Foxstep, and seeing her ill like Hazelfern was tearing at his heart. The gruff leader moved to depart from the den.
“Get me if anything changes. I don’t want to be absent when she recovers.” The leader ordered, tail lashing dangerously. Hawkpaw watched as Brownfur nodded in understanding, his paws twitching as he shuffled towards his mentor. Hawkpaw turned to Quailpaw, giving a shrug as he began setting to work separating the herbs. Ugh. They smelled so sharp, and some were just awful. He was content to serve his clan, but he began to remember exactly why the medicine den was always the last place he wanted to be.
Quailpaw seemed perfectly content though, eyeing the herbs with clever eyes and a focused flick of her tail. Hawkpaw found it almost amusing, how serious she looked. Yes. She would make a great warrior, even for a tunneler. He felt his conflicting emotions for Sandpaw simmer down as he put his mind to another task.
Time seemed to pass in a heartbeat, before Hawkpaw’s attention was drawn away from his pile of dead herbs and towards the medicine den entrance. As if out of nowhere, the wind picked up and bufted against the den, shaking it and sending Brownfur’s head shooting up. His eyes seemed terribly widened, and Hawkpaw felt himself readying to ask a question.
That was, until the sound of rain began to increase, louder and louder with each heartbeat. The chatter of the clan outside was drowned out by a sudden crescendo of wails and complaints. Warriors and apprentices began rushing for the gorse walls, at least, until a dreadful blast of wind rattled the camp walls and sent the smallest cats in the clan stumbling to the ground.
Hawkpaw was amazed, at how quickly the storm had come. It seemed Brownleaf was as well, and the medicine cat apprentice lunged up to begin shoving the sorted piles back into the safety of the crevices in the back of the den. He exclaimed.
“Something’s not right! This can’t be-”
Hawkpaw could feel Quailpaw begin to bristle as the rain roared down now, splattering against the ground and seeping into the tiny gaps in the corner of the den. Hawkpaw himself bared his teeth in tense warning, looking around sharply. In an instant, Wolfstar and Cherrydapple’s soaked frames were pushing into the medicine den. The leader had a look of sheer danger and order as he commanded.
“The wind is growing stronger than I’ve ever felt. The gorse walls are beginning to tear! We need to get into the tunnels and towards the gorge, now!” He boomed, shoving Hawkpaw and Quailpaw towards Cherrydapple. The deputy was clearly shaken, though she held her ground and remained as calm as possible.
He then moved to shove Tansytail to her paws, the elder giving a hiss of stubborn argument.
“I’m not leaving my sister!”
“Nobody’s leaving her.” Wolfstar snapped. “We’re going to bring her with us. Cherrydapple and I will help Brownleaf carry her. You are going to get yourself and these two down to the tunnels.” His voice left no room for argument, and the elder could only stare helplessly at her sister before a burst of thunder sent her jumping with surprise. Hawkpaw bristled heavily. Thunder, rain, wind, and now he’d have to go into the wretched tunnels!
“W-where’s the rest?” Quailpaw whimpered, looking outside the den frantically, a nearly empty camp meeting her gaze. Hawkpaw felt his heart drop. Was Sandpaw alright? Eaglepaw and Redpaw, the rest of the apprentices? His internal fears were answered as Cherrydapple assured quickly.
“Tunnelmud and Mudstrike are getting everyone into the main tunnel. They’ll have a clear path to the higher grounds of the gorge there. But we have to move quickly, before they flood.”
“Flood?!” Hawkpaw shouted, voice beginning to lose volume over the loud roaring of wind and rain outside. His exclamation was ignored though, when suddenly he realized something. While Brownfur and Wolfstar were frantically speaking, Foxstep’s body began to heave and writhe. Brownfur was screeching in an instant, rushing over to her, Wolfstar fast on his paws.
Tansytail’s gasps of horror were drowned out by Wolfstar’s frantic demands and the boom of thunder outside the den. Quailpaw was trembling at Cherrydapple’s side, the deputy’s eyes wide with shock. Brownfur was trying to get his mentor to lay still, nearly choking with disbelief. In the middle of it all, Hawkpaw felt lost and trapped. What was happening?! This was just like Hazelfern’s death those moons ago, a torrential storm, a frantic and angry Wolfstar. But this storm…
This storm felt different.
“What’s happening?” Wolfstar shouted, bristled and enraged with worry. Brownfur could only gasp with terror, eyes frantic as he seemed to chant.
“It wasn’t real! She told me it wasn’t! Foxstep, you can’t-”
He was cut off as a portion of the den roof ripped away, rain surging through the hole and drenching Quailpaw with water. The apprentice shrieked, and Cherrydapple moved to quickly shelter her. Tansytail was wailing, screaming for Starclan, to stop the storm, to save her sister.
In a heartbeat, Brownfur stopped pawing at Foxstep and the ginger she-cat fell horribly limp. It was clear by Wolfstar’s roar of anguish and fury and Tansytail’s cry of misery what had just occurred before Hawkpaw’s round eyes. Only the sound of rain and thunder could be heard now before Brownfur’s voice seemed to slice through the ear-wrenching noise.
Hawkpaw’s stomach dropped as the brown tom announced.
“Foxstep is dead.”
The moment the words ended, an gut-wrenching screech of wind shredded through the rest of the den roof, sending Cherrydapple into a frenzy.
“We have to go!” She shrieked, gripping Quailpaw by the scruff and pulling her, the now petrified apprentice putting up no fight as she was pulled quickly towards the tunnel entrance. Hawkpaw could only stare at Foxstep’s crumpled body before he felt a harsh set of jaws clamp onto his own scruff for a moment, Wolfstar’s growl of agony filling the air as his grandfather ushered him into a sprint.
They had no choice. The storm was becoming dangerous, and Hawkpaw knew with a pang of loss, that they had to leave Foxstep’s body before the wind sent them flinging across the moors and to Starclan as well. He could hear Brownfur pulling Tansytail’s sobbing frame along behind them.
“Foxstep!” The elder wailed. “Foxstep!”
“We have to go!” Brownfur repeated the deputy’s words, so terrified and lost in a trance-like gaze that Hawkpaw was sure he’d be the next one to drop dead. Hawkpaw could see Mudstrike waiting tensely at the entrance, fur plastered by rain and eyes wide with horror. The tom ushered the deputy and Quailpaw inside. Hawkpaw only had a moment to hesitate before Wolfstar was pushing him into the inky darkness, crowded and tight. Hawkpaw took quick breaths to try and calm himself.
Above them, the world seemed to be in chaos by the sounds, slamming and grinding and booming muffled by wet earth. Only the scent of water and his clanmates grounded him. Hawkpaw called frantically.
“Quailpaw?!”
“I-I..I’m here…” Quailpaw whispered right in front of him, her tail trembling against his nose as she assured.
“I’m right here.”
“Keep going. Don’t look back, don’t bump the walls. Don’t panic. Understand me? Follow the scents, I’ll catch right up with you.” Wolfstar’s sharp and shaking voice came from behind him, a little farther back than what he remembered. Hawkpaw realized with a start that he must be going slow to let Brownfur, Tansytail and Mudstrike catch up. Trusting his grandfather, he followed Quailpaw quickly.
After a few heartbeats, Quailpaw’s scent was the one he followed, keeping as close as he could to keep track of her tail-fur. In a moment, she stopped and gave a noise of confusion, before she moved again, a slight turn to the right. He followed on instinct, but began to realize by Quailpaw’s harsh breathing that she was upset.
“Quailpaw? Quailpaw, what’s wrong?”
“I-I...I took, I took the wrong tunnel, I can’t scent them!” She cried, sending Hawkpaw’s belly soaring with panic. The wrong tunnel?! They had to go back! He opened his jaws to shout the words at her, only to give a yowl of terror as he heard a loud rumbling noise. Behind him, he felt a rush of dirt and stone pelt across his hindquarters. Quailpaw, knowing more of what was happening, gave a cry and screamed.
“It’s collapsing! We gotta get out!” She scrambled forward down the unfamiliar tunnel. Hawkpaw could only shout and race after her, heart screaming with true fear and panic. This was how he would die! Crushed under the ground, never to be found! Starclan!
They bolted down the crumbling tunnel, wet air beginning to stream towards them. Hawkpaw and Quailpaw were racing towards the tunnel’s exit, paws thumping and breaths hitching. In a few terrifying heartbeats, the exit was clear, and they pushed out of the roaring tunnel.
Right back into the roaring storm.
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Post by Moonblazer on Aug 7, 2017 10:30:31 GMT -5
Save 14
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Post by Moonblazer on Aug 17, 2017 11:01:58 GMT -5
Save 15
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Post by Moonblazer on Oct 23, 2017 19:36:01 GMT -5
Save 16
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Post by Moonblazer on Jan 10, 2018 14:57:14 GMT -5
Save 17
sorry for posting so late, i usually edit the saves
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Post by Moonblazer on May 17, 2018 18:14:23 GMT -5
Save 18, gahhh it's still active, and chapter 9 is finally up
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Post by Moonblazer on Sept 16, 2018 19:26:57 GMT -5
Save 19, it's still active, I promise mods!
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Post by Moonblazer on Dec 16, 2018 18:37:49 GMT -5
Save 20.
Please don't lock, mods! I had bad writer's block but I just finished the next chapter and plan on continuing!
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Post by phantomstar57 on Dec 16, 2018 22:04:48 GMT -5
I'd read this but the black text on this dark bluer is hard for my old eyes to read. Might you consider going back to white or a lighter color?
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