Post by Starstar on May 1, 2017 16:32:04 GMT -5
Hey, everyone! I'm new on here, and I've been working for a while on a story I'd like to share with you. I've put the first chapter on here, and I think I'll post it chapter by chapter. Tell me what you think! 
I haven't made a real blurb for the story, but basically it's about the second daughter of Cloudtail and Brightheart named Pixieflight who was born just after The Sight. She's taken as a kit by ShadowClan but abandoned in the river. A RiverClan tom saves her and she's adopted by Dawnflower.
The story mostly revolves around her being discriminated in the clan (they think she's the daughter of a kittypet) and her romance with a rogue from ShadowClan named Ivy, who has a dark story of his own involving his parents and cross-clan love.
It also includes stuff about her apprentice Wildpaw and so forth.
Other people leave warnings about violence, so I guess I should too. There are battles, and kind of brutal scenes, but I wouldn't say it's worse than the real series.
I guess spoiler warning too, up until Dark River (Since that's how far I've read
). This story also includes my own version of Jaypaw's first Gathering (I wrote it before I read the real one.)
Anyways, enjoy! I hope you like it.
Btw, the spoiler tags are chapters in order, except the first tag has two chapters in it. (Accident, sorry)
A white tom sat in front of the nursing den, ears back and stomach tight with apprehension. He fought the urge to pace the ground and instead let out an uncomfortable groan. Inside the den, his mate, Brightheart, lay beside two Thunderclan medicine cats, in the beginnings of her kitting.
Brightheart let out a piercing yowl.
Leafpool gently nudged the distressed queen with her muzzle. “There, that’s it! Just a little more,” she purred assuredly.
Jaypaw shifted nervously on his front paws, his pelt prickling with anxiety for his old mentor. Leafpool met his gaze calmly.
“It’s all right, Jaypaw. She’s doing fine.” The senior medicine cat turned her attention back to Brightheart. “Good, good! Now, just one more-”
Leafpool was cut off by Brightheart’s howl, and then a tiny pitiful mewl.
“You’ve done it!” Leafpool exclaimed excitedly. “Your first kit! Now hang on for the next one…”
Jaypaw turned his head away as Brightheart wailed again. This was almost too much. He decided to focus his attention on Brightheart’s kit to distract from her agony. He leaned close to the small ball of wet fur, and was quickly reminded to clean it off. He began to lick the tiny kits pelt, and quickly noticed it was a tiny ball of fluff. Soon another and another kit joined the pile, and they all curled up around their mother like three little bundles of fluff.
“Is she done? Was it okay? Are they healthy? Is she alright?” Cloudtail burst into the den, unable to contain himself any longer.
Leafpool shot him a mildly annoyed glance. “She’s fine, Cloudtail. I know what I’m doing. Your kits are good and healthy too,” she explained.
Cloudtail’s eyes lit up and he bounded over to his mate, purring warmly as he curled up beside her. “Oh, they’re beautiful, Brightheart. Just like you.”
Brightheart rubbed his muzzle affectionately. Jaypaw tried not to roll his blind eyes.
“What shall we name them?” Cloudtail asked, his excitement barely suppressed.
Leafpool flashed him another glare. “You can bear to wait until she’s at least caught her breath, can’t you!?” she retorted.
Cloudtail looked down at his paws.
Brightheart purred in amusement. “It’s fine,” she said, then took a deep breath. “Any ideas, Cloudtail?” she smiled at him warmly.
Cloudtail’s head shot up eagerly. He nudged at the first born kit, the white fluffball. “Can I name her?” he asked reproachfully, eyeing Brightheart.
She purred and nodded. Cloudtail glanced back down at his snow-white daughter, his eyes loving.
“Pixiekit,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the precious bundle.
Brightheart’s eyes lit up with wonder. “Pixiekit? Where did you get that from?” she asked.
Cloudtail turned to her. “My mother told me it was the name of my sister,” he explained.
Brightheart nodded, smiling down at the young kit. “Then Pixiekit it is,” she said.
The fluffy kit mewed happily beneath her loving parents, and they leaned together affectionately.
Brightheart nudged at the other two kits who were contentedly suckling her warm milk. “Now, what shall your names be, little ones?” The new mother purred.
She licked the second born, a white-furred male with a ginger pattern on his legs, head, and tail. “Your name will be Clovekit,” Brightheart proclaimed softly.
Cloudtail purred approvingly and brushed Brightheart’s neck with his muzzle.
Brightheart moved on to the youngest, a tiny furry female with a ginger muzzle, and a single ginger spot on her back. “And you shall be Spotkit,” she concluded.
The nursery faded into a comfortable silence as the new family sat affectionately together. Jaypaw let out an impatient huff, feeling quite left out and ignored. But just as he did, Firestar entered the den with Hollypaw and Lionpaw.
“How’d it go?” Hollypaw inquired eagerly.
“Fine,” Jaypaw sighed dismissively. He’d had about enough of this experience.
Firestar spoke next. “This is great news! I’m glad your kits are well, we always have need of strong warriors,” Firestar nodded to his former apprentice, his eyes twinkling kindly.
Cloudtail bobbed his head excitedly. “Yes! Would you like to hear their names?” Before Firestar could respond, Cloudtail continued; Brightheart purred in amusement. “I named my eldest! Her name is Pixiekit, after your niece. Brightheart named the others. This one is Clovekit, and the other is Spotkit! Aren’t they wonderful, Firestar?”
“Yes, they certainly are,” Firestar purred. “We’ll have to brag about them at the Gathering. It’s drawing near.”
***
Cloudtail padded silently into the nursing den. The first light of dawn had barely reached the horizon. He reached his sleeping mate with his precious kits, and curled himself around them; purring loudly.
Brightheart flicked her ear as he leaned close, and began murmuring sleepily. Her eyes blinked open a few moments later, and they met with Cloudtail’s eager blue gems.
“Oh, Cloudtail, what in StarClan are you doing up?” she whispered in dismay.
“I couldn’t sleep!” Cloudtail insisted, flicking his tail.
Brightheart rolled her eyes. “It’s been three days since my kitting. At some point, you have to learn to trust me. I do know what I’m doing, you know,” she replied in annoyance.
Cloudtail shifted self-consciously. “I know…” he murmured. “I’m just… High-strung I guess. I’ve been waiting to have new kits for so long…”
Brightheart softened her gaze. “It’s alright, I know,” she assured him gently. “But you have to get a hold of yourself by tonight. You’re going to the Gathering remember?”
Cloudtail nodded his head. “I can’t wait! Firestar will announce our kits birth to all the clans! They’ll be so jealous!” he purred excitedly.
Brightheart rolled her eyes with an amused grin, turning her eyes to her sleeping kits. Someday, they would be great warriors, and they’d go to their own Gathering.
“Come on, Jaypaw, move it! Don’t be late to your first Gathering!” Hollypaw hissed, swiping Jaypaw with her tail.
Jaypaw fluffed his fur; dropping a bunch of thyme into a pile, and fixed a blind glare at his sister. He felt her relax apologetically, and she beckoned him to follow with another tail-swipe. He obeyed, excitement overwhelming his annoyance. He would finally be attending a Gathering!
He barely stifled a sigh as another thought came to mind. He wouldn’t be attending as a warrior. The thought poked at sore wounds, but he shook himself. It didn’t matter; at least he would finally be going.
“Is everyone ready?” Firestar’s voice called out from the Highledge.
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the camp, and Jaypaw felt head bobbing down in nods. The apprentice’s coming to this moon’s Gathering were Hazelpaw, Cinderpaw, Berrypaw, Lionpaw, Hollypaw, and himself, while the warrior’s attending were Brackenfur, Cloudtail, Dustpelt, Thornclaw, Graystripe, Millie, Sandstorm and Whitewing.
Firestar grunted in approval, and the gathered cats stood up and began to amble forward. Jaypaw assumed Firestar had signaled them to follow him, and got to his paws as well.
Awhile later, they arrived at the fallen tree. Jaypaw’s nose filled with scents of WindClan and RiverClan, but not yet any ShadowClan.
“I guess we beat ShadowClan this time,” Hollypaw whispered, more to Lionpaw than Jaypaw.
Firestar lead the way across the fallen trunk, Brambleclaw following, and Cloudtail bounding up close behind. Lionpaw took an uncertain step forward. Jaypaw could feel his muscles tense up as he heaved himself onto the trunk. His mentor, Ashfur, quickly scooted up behind him; prompting Jaypaw to wonder if Lionpaw had had a bad experience crossing the trunk before. Hollypaw’s next words proved his suspicions.
“Be careful,” she hissed in Jaypaw’s ear. “It’s awfully slippery, and riddled with trip-twigs,” she advised.
Normally, Jaypaw would be annoyed at this kind of caution due to his blindness, but given the situation, he was instead grateful. He waited for his sister to cross, and then he took a ginger step forward. He felt the cold, damp, wood touch his paw-pad, and as he continued forward slowly, his paws slid around warily.
Suddenly, he felt Leafpool come up behind him and steady him with her muzzle. Jaypaw’s pelt pricked with indignity, and he quickened his pace. However, once he did so, he deeply regretted it.
As he abandoned caution, his paws stumbled over odd protruding twigs and he swerved around the slippery wood. Jaypaw scrambled desperately for a solid foundation to fall on, but as he stretched out his paws, he found only air.
With a jolt, he realized he was falling. He mewed in a frenzied panic, until he felt a firm grip tug on his scruff. Leafpool had caught him as his front paws took a dive over the side of the trunk, and now she yanked him in the opposite direction. Jaypaw landed with a grunt of pain, pathetically draped over the trunk with his mentor holding him securely like a helpless kit.
Jaypaw had never been more embarrassed in his entire life. He could feel the eyes of his siblings, and all the other ThunderClan cats staring at him, concern and pity oozing from their eyes. Jaypaw flattened his ears and rose to his paws, seething in shame.
Leafpool nudged him along and he carefully navigated the rest of the trunk and joined his other clanmates.
Hollypaw and Lionpaw attempted to comfort him, but Jaypaw refused them. He just walked with them into the clearing and sat on his own to wallow in his humiliation. His siblings hesitated a moment, but then curiosity and excitement overtook them and they left to converse with the other clan cats.
As Jaypaw sat alone, his tail laying limp on the cold ground, he scented ShadowClan’s approach. So they’re here at last. Jaypaw thought acidly, his ear twitching. He wished he could just go home and sleep off this nightmare.
Before long, the Gathering commenced, and the rest of the clans gathered around him to listen to their leaders’ reports.
As each leader came up, Jaypaw became bored with the proceedings and stopped paying attention. That is, until Blackstar stepped up to address the clans.
“ShadowClan has been fortunate this moon,” he began. “Prey has been plentiful, and we have a new kit in our nursery,” The ShadowClan leader’s words had a mysterious edge, as if there was more to what he was saying than he let on.
As if to concede his thoughts, Lionpaw hissed, “One kit isn’t much to brag about. It’s more like a tragedy.”
Jaypaw nodded in agreement. He scented the air, counting the number of scents present from ShadowClan. As he suspected, they were a few cats short. They don’t have enough warriors. Something about that fact made Jaypaw shiver to the bone. He shook his head and turned his blind attention to Firestar as he stepped up to announce ThunderClan’s news. Jaypaw felt Cloudtail fidget in his place.
Firestar stood proudly as he spoke, “Thunderclan has been blessed this moon as well. Along with competent prey, we have three healthy kits in our nursery, born to some of ThunderClan’s greatest warriors, Cloudtail and Brightheart.”
Cloudtail sat up and swished his tail at the praise and mention of his kin. Jaypaw thought it was a bit odd for Firestar to compliment so freely, but then again Cloudtail was Firestar’s kin. What Jaypaw really found unsettling was the way ShadowClan stiffened at the mention of the kits. His skin crawled uncannily as he felt their eyes search around and meet with each other, as if silently discussing something.
Jaypaw was forced to put these thoughts out of his mind as the Gathering came to an end, and ThunderClan followed Firestar back to camp.
Ahead, Cloudtail chatted pridefully with Thornclaw. “Did you see the way they looked at each other? I told Brightheart they’d be jealous! They only wish they had kits like mine!”
Thornclaw rolled his eyes and continued walking, but an eery feeling refused to leave Jaypaw’s belly as he thought about ShadowClan’s “jealousy”. Something just wasn’t right.
Rippletail waited patiently, his tail swishing from side to side, his deep blue eyes focused on the rushing rapids of the stream. Watching, waiting for the silver flash of a fish to reveal itself.
Suddenly, above the sound of the rushing waves, Rippletail heard a vicious growl followed by a battle cry and scuffling.
The alarmed RiverClan warrior scented the air, and was taken aback by the distant scent of both RiverClan and ThunderClan buried beneath the strong stench of fish. Rippletail searched the area for the source of the scents and noises, but he couldn’t tell a thing right next to the stream.
Cursing under his breath, he turned back towards camp to warn the others, but stopped short when he heard a new sound, way out of place on the battlefield: The desperate squeal of a kit.
Rippletail turned back in shock as he heard gargled mewls surprisingly close. His heart nearly stopped when the kit’s noises suddenly cut off. In a panic, Rippletail searched the waves for any sign of the kit. His eyes scanned the rapids of the stream desperately, at just as he was about to give up hope, he found her; a tiny ball of snow-white fur drifting beneath the roaring waves.
Without hesitation Rippletail scrambled towards the helpless kit, and dove straight into the rushing waters. He desperately tried to keep his head above water as he swam hysterically in the direction of the powerless drowning furball, but the waves got the better of him and he was repeatedly slapped in the face by vicious waves. He choked and spat as water filled his lungs, but he padded on, determined to catch this kit and save it from it’s doom.
As Rippletail drew nearer to the kit, he reached out his muzzle; allowing gulps of water to enter his throat. Choking painfully, he continued on until his jaws clamped firmly onto the tiny kit’s scruff. With all his remaining strength, he shoved against the sand and launched himself; with the kit in his jaws, to the shore.
Choking and gasping he dropped the water-logged kit onto the streambed and collapsed to the ground. After a moment, Rippletail regained himself and turned to the kit, who lay still on the shore.
In a burst of panic, he shakily came to his paws and rolled the kit over with his muzzle. He pushed his paw-pads into it’s stomach, desperately hoping he could revive it.
The kit remained still. A cold grip seized Rippletail’s heart as he realized he had failed. But, just as he was about to give up, a mouthful of water spurted from the tiny kit’s mouth and it began writhing in pain.
Relief mixed with concern as Rippletail fell to the ground beside the poor soaked kit. His heart lurched as he realized it was bleeding. Blood spilled from the kit’s leg, staining it’s pure white fur. He would have to wrap it in cobwebs later, but there was no doubt the poor kit would have a scar. He began riddling the puny thing with licks to warm it, worried it might die of freezing. Rippletail certainly felt like he would.
But as he licked, he got his first clear smell of it. And, even though most of it was thoroughly washed away, there was still the lingering scents of ThunderClan, and an extremely faded, yet fresh, ShadowClan scent.
He looked down at the wailing ThunderClan kit, and suddenly his heart filled with tenderness. He became suddenly attached to the little thing. All of a sudden, he didn’t want to return the kit to ThunderClan. He couldn’t return her to the paws of the clan that had lost her in the stream. They weren’t fit to take care of her.
Rippletail straightened his back in a firm resolve. He wasn’t taking this kit back to ThunderClan.
***
“Rippletail, what in StarClan are you doing?” Dawnflower inquired the tabby tom curiously.
The pale-gray queen swept her tail gently over her kits as she spoke. Rippletail looked up at her nervously. Rippletail had snuck into the nursery den, hiding the kit behind him, still dripping wet.
“Y-You have room for… For another kit, don’t you?” He stuttered.
Dawnflower blinked in surprise. “I… I suppose so, why on earth do you ask?”
Rippletail hesitated, and then revealed a tiny white kit, drenched to the bone.
“My StarClan!” Dawnflower exclaimed.
“I pulled her from the river, when I was fishing…” Rippletail explained, staring down at his paws.
Dawnflower’s gaze softened. “Rippletail, this kit is clearly from another clan-”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing!” The gray tom interrupted the gentle queen. “She smells of both ShadowClan and ThunderClan! I heard some nasty stuff going on around their territories, and I don’t think RiverClan has any business getting involved.”
“So you’re suggesting we just keep it?” Dawnflower blurted.
Rippletail frowned. “Well, I… Look, Dawnflower, I don’t like the way this kit is being treated if she ends up half drowned in a river; dead if I hadn’t saved her! And with whatever this war is that’s going on… I just think she’d be safer here. Besides, you wouldn’t mind another kit, would you?”
The pale gray queen’s gaze clouded with pain, and Rippletail regretted his choice of words. But Dawnflower looked down at Pixiekit, and her eyes filled with empathy. She nodded slowly, and Rippletail eagerly brought Pixiekit over to her to feed.
***
“Mother,” the tiny white kit squeaked, her large blue eyes troubled. “Why do the other cats look at me like that?” The young kit questioned her mother, Dawnflower, in response to a glare from Blackclaw.
It had started that afternoon, when Pixiekit had seen Blackclaw talking to Mistyfoot and Voletooth. Curious as she was, the young kit took a break from playing with her siblings Darkkit and Emberkit and her friend Stormykit to listen to what the important clan warriors were talking about. But when she approached (attempting to be stealthy), Blackclaw had snapped at her to mind her own business. Pixiekit had nodded and run off in terror, but she was rather hurt by his cruel response. She hadn’t expected him to be so angry, and especially not so mean.
The way Blackclaw had looked at Pixiekit made her shiver with both dread and discomfort. The look in his eyes was full of contempt, and… hatred. And it was not the first time she had seen it. It was almost as if she was a misfortune, a burden, to them. Some of them at least. It made Pixiekit squirm as she waited for her loving mother’s reply.
Dawnflower hesitated, an angry gleam hardening her eyes. She would not meet Pixiekit’s gaze, but instead glared at the ground beyond her. The reaction made Pixiekit feel even more uncomfortable. What had she done to bring on the anger of her clan? And why did it anger her own mother to think about?
Dawnflower turned to look at her kit at last, her green eyes much softer now. “Oh, my dear Pixiekit… You know that we love you, and each and everyone knows you will be a great warrior one day,” she began. Something in her tone made a sneaking curiosity wriggle in her belly, but her mother continued before Pixiekit could ask. “So you need not pay any heed for those of us who think any less of you.” Dawnflower’s eyes hardened again as she spoke.
Pixiekit’s eyes widened. “Y-You mean, Blackclaw thinks I’m not-”
“What he thinks has no concern to anyone in the least. Needless to say, whatever he thinks is merely misguided,” Dawnflower cut her off dismissively.
Pixiekit lowered her head, still unsure. She had seen many cats look at her the way Blackclaw did, and if they did so for the reason Dawnflower said…
“Am I different?” Pixiekit blurted, surprising herself. But she felt this resounding from somewhere deep inside her, and she just had to confide in her mother.
Dawnflower swung her shocked gaze to Pixiekit, stunned for a moment. Her eyes clouded with an unreadable emotion, but somewhere deep inside them, Pixiekit thought she saw a flicker of fear. Dawnflower averted her eyes, and stared away for another long moment, and then shut her eyes and sighed. “Of course not.”
Pixiekit was slightly alarmed by her short response. After Dawnflower’s odd reaction, she expected something bigger out of her mother.
The fluffy kit was not satisfied. “But… I keep seeing cats look at me like I’m some sort of problem! Like I’ve done something to anger them! And… and I don’t look like anyone…” Pixiekit finally voiced the discrepancy that had haunted her since the day she was born.
There wasn’t a single cat in RiverClan, not even her mother; that had white fur, let alone as fluffy as her’s was. She looked up hesitantly at her mother, dreading her response, but also deeply longing for it. She needed an answer, even if it wasn’t one she liked.
Dawnflower leaned over and gave Pixiekit a lick between the ears. “Alright. I’ll tell you if you must know,” her mother meowed softly.
Pixiekit brightened expectantly. Dawnflower shifted on her paws and blinked a few times.
She heaved a sigh and began. “Your, birth-mother was a kittypet.”
Pixiekit let out a mew of surprise. This was not something she had expected to hear, but she had to admit, it explained a lot.
She looked up attentively as Dawnflower continued, “We met by Greenleaf Twolegplace. She was only a half-moon along then, nearly the same as me. Her mate had left her, and she was lost from her Twoleg nest. I had to help her out. So we continued meeting in secret for some time,” she explained, and Pixiekit hung on to every detail, not daring to interrupt with questions.
“I knew it was against the code, but I couldn’t help myself. She was such a kind-hearted kittypet. When I we were both around a moon and a half along, she begged me to take her kits when they were born. I agreed, and when Darkkit and Emberkit were born, I sent Rippletail to keep my promise.” Dawnflower paused. “Rippletail returned with you, and told me your mother had died in her kitting.” Pixiekit looked up at her mother in shock. She expected to find sorrow in her mother’s eyes in remembering the loss of her friend, but to her surprise, Pixiekit found nothing.
Dawnflower continued telling of how a few RiverClan cats never truly accepted Pixiekit because of her kittypet blood, but most of them still loved her for who she was, and all Pixiekit needed to do was prove she was a worthy warrior, even with her kittypet blood. Then, cats like Blackclaw would accept her.
“But for now, all that matters is you are my kit, and you are a loyal RiverClan cat. They will realise that someday, but until then, hold your head high and don’t let them discourage you.” Pixiekit saw something in Dawnflower’s gaze that suggested a different meaning to her words, but Pixiekit didn’t bother to pry any further.
The fluffy kit nodded and thanked her mother, prancing back to join her siblings.
“What were you talking to Dawnflower for?” Emberkit pried, her eyes lit up with curiosity.
Darkkit bounced away from Pebblekit and Stormykit to join them, equally intrigued. Pixiekit looked at the both of them; Emberkit’s black pelt and Darkkit’s cloudy dark gray one. Then she glanced back at her own pure white fur. Nothing about herself and her siblings was the same.
She lifted her head again to study their dark amber eyes, wishing with all her heart they were truly kin. But we’re denmates! And friends! That can’t change because of blood, could it?
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Emberkit blinked, shoving her muzzle in Pixiekit’s face. “You look scared or something.”
“Pixiekit, is this about Blackclaw being mean to you? Because I told you I’ll claw his muzzle off!” Darkkit vowed, unsheathing his puny claws and glaring at the earth.
Pixiekit shook her head. “It’s not him, it’s me. I’m… a kittypet,” the fluffy kit mewed, lowering her ears in shame.
Darkkit and Emberkit stood still; uncomprehending. “What do you mean?” Darkkit asked. “You’re our sister!”
But Pixiekit shook her head again, her vision blurring. “I thought I was… I wish I was… But I’m a kittypet’s daughter. Dawnflower said so. That’s why Blackclaw hates me!” the sorrowful white kit squeaked, digging her claws into the dirt.
Darkkit took a step back, his eyes gleaming with disbelief. But Emberkit didn’t back down. “No, you’re wrong! You are our sister. Wherever you came from doesn’t change that! Right, Darkkit?” The black she-kit turned to confirm with her brother.
Pixiekit held her breath as Darkkit’s eyes glistened uncertainly, but he set his jaw. “Yeah. You’re here with us, not in some comfy Twoleg nest. Who cares where you came from!” he declared confidently.
Pixiekit blinked at her siblings gratefully, but Voletooth’s blazing orange stare caught her eye. She was trapped in the menacing depths of his tawny glare for many heartbeats before tearing away.
With a deep sigh she shuddered away the lingering contempt from the brown tom’s eyes and sighed. “Yeah… But not every cat thinks so…”
“Pixiepaw, get over here! We’re on hunting patrol, remember?”
“Coming, Minnowtail!” The young apprentice squeaked as she stumbled out of bed.
Minnowtail glowered at her apprentice irritably, and the white she-cat mewed in apology. The gray-and-white warrior sighed. “How about we head over to the stream, now?”
“Sure!” Pixiepaw replied enthusiastically, and padded off in that direction.
“Hey, Pixiepaw!” A voice called sneeringly; stopping the white she-cat in her tracks.
The fluffy apprentice turned to the once friendly face of Stormypaw. Ever since the dappled gray she-cat had found out about Pixiepaw’s kittypet origins, she had made every attempt to mention it as much as possible.
The snarky apprentice hated her for not being clan-born, and despite what Darkpaw had said many moons before; Pixiepaw knew her foster brother resented that too. Stormypaw’s friendship with Pixiepaw’s littermates had only increased Darkpaw’s hatred for kittypets, and for that, Pixiepaw hated Stormypaw.
“I bet I’ll catch more fish than you, kittypet!” Stormypaw taunted. “But I guess that’ll be easy since you fall in the river before you catch anything.”
Pixiepaw bristled at the jab at her fishing skills; mostly because she knew it was true. “Shut up, fox-dung! You only catch fish ‘cause they swim right into your filthy mouth!” she growled bitterly at the slender she-cat.
“That’s enough you two!” Minnowtail snapped at the two apprentices, and Pixiepaw lowered her head in shame. “Pixiepaw, I think you need some space to cool your head. Why don’t you try hunting by Greenleaf Twolegplace for a while?”
Her mentor’s suggestion sent a wave of shame through Pixiepaw’s thick pelt. She had gone too far. Pelt prickling in disappointment and anger, Pixiepaw turned to leave.
“Have fun catching ThunderClan prey, mouse-brain,” Stormypaw hissed under her breath; prompting Pixiepaw to growl once more before padding miserably away.
***
Pixiepaw stiffened in a crouched position, carefully watching a vole sniffing at brambles. She tensed as the vole drew nearer, not yet sensing her presence. She waited another moment, and then leaped. Unfortunately, her tail had swished into a branch of dry leaves, and the vole squeaked loudly as it narrowly escaped its death. Pixiepaw hissed under her breath. That vole’s squeak would have scared off the whole area’s prey. If she wanted to catch anything in the next while, she’d have to catch this vole.
Angry now, Pixiepaw turned on her front paws and bolted after her escaping prey. The fat rodent lumbered away in a panic as she gained ground. Her muscles tensed and claws unsheathed, Pixiepaw pounced, landing directly on top of the vole, breaking it’s back.
In a rush of triumph, she picked up the vole in her mouth and tossed it in the air, watching it fall with a thump to the ground. Pixiepaw took a deep breath and was suddenly taken aback by a strong scent that sent fear rippling through her fur. ShadowClan! Had she crossed the border?
Suddenly anxious, she searched her surroundings. With a sigh of relief, she realized she had not. She was, however; a fox-length away from it. Chasing that vole had nearly led her right over the border! Pixiepaw had already come carelessly close in her hunting earlier. She scolded herself to be more careful.
But as she began to turn away, she was filled with alarm. All of a sudden she scented a ShadowClan cat, but the scent was so strong it could only mean…
“Oh, hello,” a voice spoke from right next to Pixiepaw.
Pixiepaw jumped up, hackles raised and claws unsheathed. She hissed as she turned to face the ShadowClan intruder.
He did not appear as she expected. Some of Pixiepaw’s worst memories, her worst nightmares; were of ShadowClan cats. She imagined them as evil, yellow-eyed, black-furred, hostile fox-hearts, but this cat was quite the contrary. He was a ginger tom with a kind gleam in his emerald green eyes. He did however have many scars; one of the more notable ones was the nick out of his left ear. But nonetheless, he didn’t look threatening.
His appearance caught her off guard that she hesitated a moment, before hissing again. “What are you doing on ThunderClan territory!?” she spat.
"Woah, woah, easy there, fluffball! Don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?” The ginger tom’s eyes sparkled mischievously.
“Just because I’m fluffy, doesn’t mean I can’t rip you to shreds, intruder! I’m not some kit you know, I’ve been an apprentice for nearly two moons now!” Pixiepaw growled, annoyed by his jab at her fluffy pelt. It had been a lifelong pain, forcing Pixiepaw to constantly prove herself a warrior and not some kittypet joke.
But the tom purred in amusement. “I never thought different,” he replied.
Pixiepaw hesitated again, unsure of what to do. Intruders weren’t suppose to just sit there and poke fun at you, they were supposed to attack! Pixiepaw shifted her eyes uncertainly, waiting for him to unsheathe his claws and pounce.
He tilted his head and smiled at her. “What’s the matter? I thought you were going to tear me to shreds?” he asked, a fun twinkle in his eyes.
Pixiepaw’s shoulders tensed in annoyance. “Don’t think I still won’t!” she retorted, becoming more and more unsure of herself.
“Right, right,” the ShadowClan tom nodded. “‘Cause you’re a vicious snowball!”
Pixiepaw rolled her crystal blue eyes to StarClan. But she stopped, suddenly curious. “Snowball? Is that what you call… a ball of snow?” she asked, confused. It sounded like kittypet talk.
The ginger tom shifted his eyes, suddenly uncomfortable.
Pixiepaw became even more confused. “What? What’s the-” Pixiepaw’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh! Are you a kittypet!?” she exclaimed.
The tom’s face contorted in disgust. “What, no! Of course not!” he objected angrily.
“Oh… Then, are you a rogue?” The curious she-cat revised.
The tom shifted his gaze again.
Pixiepaw stepped toward him curiously. “So, you are a rogue? From ShadowClan? What are you doing here? Why’d you leave? Did they treat you bad? Is it true that they-”
“Hey! Since when did you care so much about the who and why of an intruder? Yeah I’m a rogue, so what? Aren’t you supposed to chase me off now?” The rogue tom snapped.
Pixiepaw flinched away from him. “I-I’m sorry… I was just curious…”
The rogue sighed. “Not everyone becomes a rogue by choice you know. There wasn’t anything terrible about my clan, they’re just misunderstood, you know? Everything’s not always so black and white.”
Pixiepaw blinked hesitantly, then nodded uncertainly.
The rogue sighed again, defeatedly, and continued, “You’re right I’m a ShadowClan rogue, but not because they treated me bad or anything. They were perfectly fine clanmates, especially my mentor. He’s been- He… He trained me for almost four moons before I was banished,” The young tom choked on his grief, and Pixiepaw suddenly felt bad for him.
“But, if they were such great clanmates, why would they just kick you out like that? That’s not fair!” Pixiepaw remarked indignantly.
The tom shook his head. “They weren’t being unfair, it was beyond them, I... It’s just… I’m apparently a mix of clan blood.”
Pixiepaw’s eyes flew open. “What!?” she blurted before she could stop herself.
The white she-cat couldn’t help it, mixed clan blood could only mean massive disregard for the warrior code. Pixiepaw’s curiosity was buzzing out of control as she thought about what ShadowClan cat would so scandalously provoke the anger of StarClan.
The loner tom shut his eyes in irritation. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but who my parents are, and what they did is honestly none of your business.”
Pixiepaw’s ears flattened at the tom’s harsh words, but she grudgingly conceded that he was right. It was not her place to go sticking her muzzle into another cat’s affairs.
The tom continued, “All you need to know is: that’s why I was kicked out,” he finished, a flicker of pain crossing his face. Pixiepaw felt another pang of sympathy for the young rogue.
The two cats stood awkwardly swishing their tails for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.
The rogue tom broke the silence with a sharp intake of breath and blinked his eyes. “Well, I guess I should be going, don’t want any of mine or your clan cats to find me here. You maybe wanna chase me out of here? You know, so it doesn’t look like you let me go?” he suggested.
Pixiepaw looked around, tasting the air for any cats nearby. Finding nothing, she shook her head, gesturing for the tom to leave.
“No use in that, no one would see me anyway,” Pixiepaw paused, debating whether to continue. “W-where are you going? Do you have a place to stay?” she asked innocently.
The ginger tom paused, and then shook his head. “I guess I live in the wild now,” he sighed finally, his face grim in recession.
Pixiepaw felt surprisingly saddened at the thought of him going. Suddenly she realized she didn’t want him to leave. What if he joined RiverClan? The she-cat’s eyes lit up at the thought. Surely her clan would welcome him given his pitiful circumstance, and he certainly looked like he’d be open to joining. He didn’t seem the loner type.
But as she opened her mouth to speak, the glimmer-eyed tom cut her off. “Hey, before I go, do you mind telling me your name?” he said.
Pixiepaw blinked rapidly, caught off-guard. “O-oh, um, Pixiepaw,” she replied.
He smiled and nodded to her, turning around to leave. “Pixiepaw, got it. Well, goodbye then, Pixiepaw! Nice to meet a vicious snowball like you!” And he bounded off.
Pixiepaw was left sufficiently flustered, and couldn’t seem to stop blinking. “H-hey wait! You, you didn’t tell me your name!” she managed in a panic.
The ginger rogue smirked over his shoulder. “Ivypaw! But I’ll go by Ivy now! Bye, Snowball!”
The white she-cat’s pelt flared with irritation and embarrassment. She was so bewildered that she just barely remembered what she was going to ask him. Pixiepaw called after him, but it was too late. Ivy was gone.
Pixiepaw walked slowly back to camp, her tail drooping. She felt too dejected to hunt.
When she got back to camp, Minnowtail asked her what was eating her, but she decided not to tell anyone. Ivy would be her secret, and hers alone.
Sorry there's such a long intro into the main story, but it's mostly over now. If you have any helpful tips on how to format and use this website properly, I'd really appreciate it. As well as reviews or comments about the story so far, I'd really like to know.
The rogue tom’s paws thudded rhythmically against the dry earth as he ran. His ruffled, torn, ginger pelt blowing in the wind. Ivy was a long way from the forest.
Ivy looked up at the clear blue sky, wishing he was home. A single cloud hovered above, and the young tom’s mind drifted to the scene many moons ago, when he ran into that fluffy white apprentice. Pixiepaw. She would be a warrior now, maybe even with an apprentice of her own.
It was so long ago, it seemed, and yet Ivy could remember it perfectly. Her adorably hostile attitude, her warm purr, and gentle crystal blue eyes. His heart ached as he imaged the she-cat’s face, her precious fluffiness, and the way she ruffled her fur when he teased her…
Ivy shook his head. He couldn’t think of that now. He was a rogue, and she was a clan cat. She had a family, a place where she belonged, while he had nothing.
Ivy looked down at his paws, his heart swelling with sorrow. He longed for that life again, to have friends, kin, a clan.
A mate.
The ginger tom flopped on the ground and flattened his ears. It could never be. Even if he were to be accepted by his clan again, he couldn’t be with her. It was against warrior code to see someone from another clan, he knew that well.
Suddenly, a thought came to mind. It hit him with such force that he perked up. My father. The source of his many wounds, his turmoil, his banishment... His mother’s death.
Memories flooded back to the young tom, so strongly that he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block them out. But they wouldn’t stop.
There he was again. Whirling around in the middle of a skirmish. It was a RiverClan invasion, over something stupid like a border-crossing. His home, the ShadowClan camp, was filled with the screeches of warriors, and the scent of enemies.
Ivypaw had done his best to fight them off with his clan. He had just finished clawing the eyes of another RiverClan apprentice, when a RiverClan warrior charged towards him. He was a large, muscular, dark ginger tom with dark stripes from his muzzle to his tail. His amber eyes were filled with rage and exhilaration from the battle.
He was heading straight for Ivypaw, his muscles tensed for action. Ivypaw was suddenly paralyzed with fear, with not a clue as to why. The large dark ginger tom reared up and held up a paw to strike, and Ivypaw still did nothing to avoid him.
That was when it happened.
Ivypaw heard his mother’s voice crying out in horror. “Autumnfur, No!”
The dark ginger tom stopped in his tracks, and looked over to her, his eyes flashing with plain fear. At that moment, Ivypaw hadn’t understood a thing that was happening. The large tom just froze and stared at his mother, and they shared a look Ivypaw hadn’t been able to interpret.
Unfortunately, Blackstar apparently did. At this point, ShadowClan had regained the upperhand, and in any other situation, that would have been the end of it. Instead, as the rest of RiverClan escaped back to their territory, the ShadowClan warriors surrounded Ivypaw, the brown tom, and Ivypaw’s mother, Tallpoppy.
That was they day Ivypaw learned that the RiverClan cat was his father, and they day he lost both of them and his clan for good.
Ivy unsheathed his claws and gripped the earth in fury. Hatred seethed inside him for Blackstar, and his deputy Russetfur. They were the ones responsible for killing his parents, and for banishing him from the clan. His pelt blazed in outrage as he remembered the cruel gleam in Blackstar’s eyes when he ignored all that Tallpoppy had done for the clan, and all of her innocence and kindness. She had never done ShadowClan any harm. But he offered her no mercy, and instead heartlessly spilled her blood at his feet.
Ivy tightened his grip and fought away the moisture welling up in his eyes. Blackstar felt no remorse. As long as he or Russetfur was in charge, he could never return to ShadowClan.
But RiverClan, his father’s clan, may be willing to welcome him. And if they did… Ivy trembled in excitement at the thought of joining the same clan as that precious snowball.
That settles it then! Pixiepaw, I’m coming! He thought.
***
Pixieflight scampered through the tall grass near the small Thunderpath. Around her the sky shone a bright blue and the wind ruffled through her fur. A songbird tweeted in the distance. Her apprentice, Wildpaw, huffed and puffed, struggling to keep up with her pace.
Pixieflight smiled warmly at the young she-cat, intrusted to her care less than a moon ago. Wildpaw was a quirky little she-cat, with thin, woolly fur; a soft, gray-white colour that appeared pink in the evening light. She wasn’t in the best of shape yet, and she was a bit of an awkward hunter, but that would all change with training. Or at least, that’s what Pixieflight hoped.
It was a lot of pressure, being given her first apprentice. She was the one expected to whip Wildpaw into shape, but Pixieflight had no idea if she could do it.
“Alright, we’ll stop here,” Pixieflight called to the young shorthair, who was lagging behind.
Wildpaw didn’t hesitate to follow orders. She stilled her paws and gulped in deep breaths, her yellow eyes wide open and diluted.
“Man, you need to lay off the fish and join more patrols,” Pixieflight teased jokingly, brushing her apprentices back with her tail.
Wildpaw inhaled deeply. “S-sorry…” she managed.
Pixieflight’s eyes narrowed. Sure, she knew Wildpaw was out of shape, but she didn’t know she was this bad. Their pace hadn’t been to extreme, Pixieflight had been careful not to set the bar too high too fast.
“Hey, do you want to head back and rest some?” Pixieflight asked, trying not to betray her concern for her apprentice.
But Wildpaw shook her head. “No, no… I’m fine. And besides, the clan needs prey,” she replied simply, no longer out of breath, but still weary.
Pixieflight nodded hesitantly, then gestured towards a clump of tall grass to hide in while stalking their prey.
As they walked over to it, Wildpaw spoke up, “Hey, why do you never take me to the river to catch fish? I’ve never even seen you come back with one before.”
Pixieflight stiffened. She had hoped no one would notice this. The truth was, Pixieflight was a horrible fisher. Throughout her entire apprenticeship, she never caught more than three fish until the day of her assessment, and she was still terrible at it. As much as she could, she avoided the river and chose to hunt the fields instead. Pixieflight hadn’t even realized Wildpaw would find this odd until she brought it up, and now she was ashamed to reveal the reason.
“Oh, Um…” Pixieflight paused, searching for some excuse. “... I don’t know, I just don’t prefer the taste of fish. I’ll make sure you’re taught how to catch fish in the river soon, don’t worry.” Pixieflight secretly plotted to have one of the other warrior’s take Wildpaw to the river whist she pretended to be busy.
Wildpaw scrunched up her nose. “You don’t like fish? But… You’re a RiverClan cat, how can you not like fish?” she asked, as if the thought repelled her.
Pixieflight flicked her tail in annoyance. “Just because I’m RiverClan doesn’t mean I automatically enjoy river-food. That’s not how it works,” she snapped.
Pixieflight regretted her harshness when her apprentice flattened her ears in shame.
As Wildpaw mumbled an apology, Pixieflight ran her tail down her back affectionately.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you, you were just asking a question,” Pixieflight gave her apprentice a quick lick between the ears, and then signaled her into a crouch.
Wildpaw shuffled slowly forward, in a crouch awkwardly hunched on her shoulders. She was stalking a large mouse that was currently munching on a blade of grass. The pale gray apprentice was deep in focus, her green eyes fixed on her prey.
Pixieflight had to commend her apprentice in that regard. Though she wasn’t the fittest of cats, she had a determined concentration that the other apprentices could only dream of.
If only it translated into skill… Pixiepaw frowned in concern at the thought. Wildpaw was certainly trying as hard as she could, but this mouse was already the second attempt this afternoon at catching prey. She just couldn’t seem to get a grasp of the hunting techniques. Pixieflight blamed herself for being a bad mentor, but something seemed to be preventing her apprentice from toning her skills.
Pixieflight kept telling herself it took practice and discipline; something she was expected to give to Wildpaw, but a nagging feeling of insecurity told her she wasn’t good enough to teach her. Nothing Pixieflight was doing seemed to help the young apprentice at all, and Pixieflight found herself wallowing in incompetence.
Suddenly, the white she-cat’s heart gave a jolt as the grey apprentice shot into the sky in the direction of her prey.
Pixieflight’s eyes widened as she followed Wildpaw’s leap, her hope soaring. But it was crushed as she realized her start had not been strong enough.
Wildpaw landed just half a whisker’s length from the mouse, and it scampered off with a squeal loud enough to wake the prey within five dog’s lengths of the area. Pixieflight moaned, putting her muzzle in her paws. Why couldn’t she teach her apprentice anything?
A few moments later, Wildpaw approached Pixieflight meekly, her eyes swelling with horror and shame. Pixieflight walked up, her tail dragging to meet her.
“Haven’t I taught you to measure your leap before you jump!? I know you could’ve done that, even a kit knows how!” Pixieflight meowed in exasperation, her defeat making her words harsh.
Wildpaw squirmed under her mentor’s distressed gaze. “I’m sorry, Pixieflight… I thought I had it, I just… Jumped wrong,” she mewled uncomfortably.
Pixieflight looked up at her final words. She narrowed her eyes and then sighed.
“Your crouch is a little off. We’ll work on that instead,” she decided.
A little later, after crouching and stalking lessons, and three attempts at Wildpaw catching prey; Pixieflight decided to head back. Each try had lead them further and further into the field, and closer and closer to ShadowClan territory until they were finally ready to give up.
But just as they were walking back to camp, they were joined by Pouncetail and Voletooth along with Pouncetail’s apprentice, Flintpaw.
“How did you two do out here?” Pouncetail called to them.
Wildpaw lowered her head, while Pixieflight ruffled her fur in embarrassment. She could feel their stares burning through her like the hot rays of the sun. She hardly needed them to reminder that she had failed to mentor her apprentice enough to catch a single piece prey.
Pixieflight felt a deep sympathy for Wildpaw, and was indignant at the continued staring from her clanmates. Couldn’t they see she had tried her best? Wildpaw was still just beginning her training, why couldn’t they have a little grace?
Pixieflight’s fur tingled angrily as she remembered her own training. The other cats always seemed to be staring. As if they were watching her closely, just waiting for her to screw up. As if it would prove something if she did. Why are they always staring!? It was like they wanted her to mess up.
Pixieflight suddenly realised why. It’s because of my kittypet blood. Everyone in RiverClan was waiting for Pixieflight to fail; to give up, so that they would be right about kittypets not being true warriors. As if she was proof to them that all kittypets were failures as warriors, and that they don’t belong in clans. Well, I’ll show them!
Pixieflight was just about ready to explode, but then Pouncetail’s words quieted her anger. “Not too well, I’m guessing,” he remarked. “It’s alright, you can’t win them all. Just try again next time,” he nodded to Wildpaw.
Pixieflight scolded her inner voices that drove her to extreme conclusions, and nodded respectfully to Pouncetail. But still, deep inside her, she felt her conclusions were not all wrong. Even if not Pouncetail, she knew many RiverClan cats thought that way about her. She would just have to prove to them that they were wrong.
After a small discussion, the RiverClan cats decided to return to camp. However; just as they turned to leave, Pixieflight froze. As she did so, Pouncetail and Voletooth followed suit. The apprentices caught on late as a foreign scent reached their noses at last, and they perked up too.
Pouncetail tensed and a growl rumbled in his throat. They all smelled a cat with an odd scent mixed with many foreign odors, but the base of it’s scent was certain: ShadowClan.
Pixieflight flicked her ears uncertainly. For some reason, even though the intruder smelled of ShadowClan, her hackles remained unraised. Somehow she knew the mysterious ShadowClan intruder’s scent as non-threatening…
“Don’t! I’m not attacking you,” a gruff voice meowed from behind a patch of brambles.
Pixieflight blinked in shock. She knew that voice! As if to confirm her suspicions, the semi-familiar pelt of the ginger tom from many moons ago slipped out from among the brambles; his emerald eyes gleaming playfully, just as Pixieflight remembered them.
With a burst of excitement, Pixieflight forgot herself. “You!” she blurted.
All eyes swung to Pixieflight, confusion filling them. The shimmering green of the rogue ginger tom met hers, causing her heart to skip a beat.
There was a moment of silence, and then the rogue spoke.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Ivy had scented her; Pixiepaw, a short while before he had entered her territory. It had surprised the rogue tom, considering she was a long way from her home if she had been around there. He couldn’t help but be curious what she had been doing.
As he drew closer, he smelled a different cat he didn’t recognize. Ivy came to the conclusion that he was right, and that she had an apprentice after all. He felt a surge of pride for the fluffy young she-cat. He had seen it in her eyes when he teased her that she had been used to rebuke, and again when he told her of his exile from his clan. There had been more than curiosity in those eyes. There was a deep sympathy that could only come from experience.
Somehow, Pixiepaw had known what Ivy was going through, and that only brought him closer to the lovely she-cat in his mind. As he entered RiverClan territory, his paws ached with a longing that he had never known before, and he continued on towards Pixiepaw’s scent with a new determination.
When he approached a batch of brambles, he heard her voice. Ivy scented her among many other cats. He paused, unsure of how to proceed. He didn’t want to burst out and startle them; risking an attack, but Ivy didn’t know how to get their attention without inviting hostility.
However, that problem was solved for him. In Ivy’s moment of hesitation, the cat’s scented him, and he heard hisses and growls from their direction. In a panic, his mind whirled thinking of how to respond so that they wouldn’t tear him to shreds.
Not wanting to waste too much time and risk their assumptions, he blurted out, “Don’t!” he paused for a moment, “I’m not attacking you,” Ivy tried not to betray either fear or hostility, prayed to StarClan it would be enough, and slithered out from his hiding place behind the brambles.
The moment Ivy came out into the clearing, he saw her. Even though she was now fully grown, he recognised Pixiepaw immediately. The ginger tom suppressed a purr that began rumbling in his throat, and forced himself not to speak a word to her in the presence of her clanmates.
He almost broke, however; when she turned her beautiful blue eyes on his and blurted her recognition of him. Ivy longed to greet the fluffy she-cat warmly, and tell her all about his journeys and how much he had dreamed to see her again, but he kept silent for her sake.
Instead he forced himself to turn to her and simply state, “Do I know you?”
He watched Pixiepaw’s eyes flood with confusion, and then a flicker of hurt crossed them, and she broke eye contact with him. “No,” she meowed. “I guess not.”
Ivy flinched with regret, but he knew he couldn’t say anything. Not yet; not until they were alone together. For now, Ivy turned to her clanmates and took a deep breath to prepare himself. Now he had to figure out how to join RiverClan.
“Well, I don’t care if I know you, I just want to know what you’re doing on RiverClan territory, and why you smell like a ShadowClan warrior!” Voletooth growled.
Pouncetail yowled his agreement, and Ivy flinched at their open hostility. This was going to be a bit tougher than he expected. He ruffled his fur and sized up to the RiverClan warriors.
“I am a ShadowClan rogue, but I have no ties with them,” Ivy declared.
Voletooth bared his fangs, “And why should we believe you?” he spat. Voletooth took an advancing step towards Ivy with his claws unsheathed.
Ivy shut his eyes and took a breath to control himself. “Because they killed my mother,” he took a pause, noticing every cat freeze awkwardly. Then he continued, “My father, too. And they did so… because my father was a RiverClan warrior,” he finished.
The six RiverClan cats before Ivy started in disbelief as he shared the details of his parents and their affair. They stood staring at one another in silence as they processed what they had been told.
Ivy couldn’t help but notice Pixiepaw’s ear twitch as the she-cat heard him speak. Her eyes glittered with curiosity and suspicion. Ivy remembered he had chosen not to tell Pixiepaw about his parents, and this was the first time she was hearing the full story.
It was Voletooth who spoke up first. “Do you mean to tell me, that Autumnfur was your father?” There was a hostile edge to the older warrior’s tone, but his voice was hoarse with shock.
Ivy could see in the brown tabby’s eyes he had known Ivy’s father well. “Yes,” he replied to him simply, wanting to be gentle with his father’s friend.
He knew it would hurt any RiverClan cat to know that Autumnfur had broken the warrior code so much. He felt a pang of remorse as he realized he was damaging his dead father’s reputation within his clan. They probably all remembered him as a great and honorable warrior.
Pouncetail spoke this time. “So what is it that you want, bringing us this news about our departed clanmate? You smell like a rogue; I reckon you’ve been one for quite sometime. What made you decide to come here now?” the ginger and white tabby tom challenged, and Flintpaw growled in similar mistrust.
Ivy paused. He could not reveal his ulterior motive; shooting a flickering glance at Pixiepaw, so instead he went with the basic truth. “I never desired to be an outcast, I was forced into being one. For a long time I travelled on my own, seeking to find myself, and get over my loss. But I failed,” Ivy choked on his words, remembering his lonely days, walking the endless plains, desperately searching for a comfort, a home, that could not be found. “I eventually realized I couldn’t bear to live on my own, and then I remembered my father…” Ivy trailed off.
“And so you came here, to RiverClan,” Voletooth finished his thought. He grunted, shaking his head at nothing in particular. “I’m sure Leopardstar will take you. She’ll take anyone these days,” he sighed dismissively, flicking his tail in annoyance.
Ivy noticed Pixiepaw bristle in the corner of his vision, rage barely concealed in her eyes. The ginger tom wondered what in that comment had set her off like that. But before he could think on it much, Voletooth and Pouncetail beckoned him to follow them to RiverClan’s camp.
As they approached the camp, Ivy looked around at his father’s home. The sharp, fresh smell of pine filled the rogue cat’s nose as he gazed at the giant looming evergreens. Sparkles of sunlight seeped through the closely packed needles, and filled the area with a magical air. The ground beneath Ivy’s paws was damp and cold, laden with fallen needles and smooth stones.
The entire territory seemed to be drowsy as the afternoon edged on towards evening. In front of him; Ivy pretended not to notice Flintpaw lean toward Wildpaw and whisper in her ear, stealing a glance back at the rogue tom as he did so. There was no doubt the young apprentice was not completely on board with his elder mentor’s decision, and Ivy could see that the young apprentices were discussing their own opinion.
Wildpaw angled her head as she spoke softly back to Flintpaw, and Ivy was glad to see some sensible sympathy in the young she-cat’s eyes. Unlike Flintpaw, Wildpaw did not rudely glance at Ivy as she spoke, but instead ended her sentence with a long blink and a flick of her tail. Ivy was beginning to like Pixiepaw’s apprentice.
“Just a little further now,” Pouncetail reported, not even looking over his shoulder at the guest he was escorting.
Ivy stole a glance at Pixiepaw. He wondered suddenly what her warrior name was now. He supposed he should stop thinking of her with an apprentice name. After all, she had an apprentice of her own!
The ginger tom watched the fluffy white she cat swish her tail back and forth and she walked briskly beside him; her eyes focused dead ahead.
Ivy felt a painful tug at his heart again. He had really hurt her when he pretended not to recognise her, and now she refused to even look at him. She probably thought she didn’t mean anything to Ivy. She thinks I really don’t remember her!
He was aghast at the thought; of course he remembered Pixiepaw. After the conversation they had, and the fact it was the last one Ivy had had with another cat until now, there was no way he could have forgotten.
But now she thinks I did! Ivy set his jaw firmly; deciding that as soon as he could, he would tell her the truth. The very first moment he had the chance.
Ivy’s thoughts were interrupted when his guides stopped short. The rogue looked up again at his surroundings, and was faced with a large and busy clearing that was clearly the RiverClan camp. As the ginger rogue stood at the entrance of the bustling camp, a few heads started to turn in his direction. Soon, nearly all eyes were on Ivy.
The ginger tom shifted his paws nervously, wishing they wouldn’t just stare like that. Ivy’s escorts stood their silently; suddenly the centre of RiverClan’s attention. A couple cats narrowed their eyes, while two apprentices discussed suspiciously with each other.
Finally, someone blurted, “Who’s this you’ve brought, Pouncetail?”
“Did you approve of this Voletooth?” It was Reedwhisker who spoke, his gaze openly scornful as he looked Ivy over.
Voletooth merely grunted in response, and padded over to Leopardstar’s den.
Pouncetail stared Reedwhisker down, a challenge flaring in his eyes. “He’s a rogue, but he’s come here claiming to have RiverClan blood,” he answered, addressing the whole clan, rather than Reedwhisker.
“RiverClan blood!?” Blackclaw exclaimed, approaching the warriors and Ivy with Leopardstar, Mistyfoot, and Voletooth. “How can a rogue claim to have RiverClan blood when none of our warriors know him?” The bristling black tom continued.
“Silence!” Leopardstar snapped at the large warrior. The RiverClan leader turned her attention to Ivy. “Does the rogue have an explanation for us?” she inquired.
Ivy swallowed nervously and faced up to the towering spotted she-cat. He explained his story again to her; afraid every second that the RiverClan leader would snap at him for daring to claim Autumnfur broke the warrior code, and then drive him from the territory. But to his surprise, she stayed silent, eyeing him steadily and nodding a few times.
Other cats around him, however; yowled their convictions at the ginger tom, and were similarly shot down by the RiverClan leader.
When Ivy finished, Leopardstar nodded again. “I suspected something like that from him. Autumnfur would often come back to camp reeking of stench, or otherwise thoroughly washed. I didn’t confront him for it, since I had no real proof. And even so, he was never gone when we needed him, and I had other issues on hand,” the spotted she-cat added meaningfully, referring to the ShadowClan threat that had sparked the raid on their territory; where Autumnfur had died.
Reedwhisker stepped forward in surprise. “Leopardstar, do you mean to say Autumnfur really was a traitor?” the black tom questioned the spotted golden she-cat.
Yowls of anger and surprise burst out among the clan, and Ivy’s pelt burned indignantly. Just because he fell in love with his mother, they’d go as far as to call their departed clanmate a traitor? Ivy stifled a growl from rising in his throat. They were beginning to remind him of ShadowClan.
But this time Mistyfoot silenced them again with an irritated yowl. “Autumnfur was a loyal RiverClan cat! You all knew him well. He served the clan tirelessly, and we never questioned his loyalty; not one of us!” she growled at her clan. “Yes; he made a mistake. He broke the warrior code for love. All cats do stupid things, but that does not make them traitors! I am repelled that all of you would ignore everything a noble warrior, and honorable clanmate was, just because of a mistake like that!” Mistyfoot clenched her paws; her ears flattened and glared at her clanmates.
Ivy flicked his ears, shocked but grateful to the RiverClan deputy. Leopardstar looked to be deeply considering Mistyfoot’s words. Even Ivy could see the leader had a deep respect for her deputy, and she seemed to be thinking hard about what Mistyfoot had said.
Suddenly, Leopardstar turned back to Ivy and meowed, “Are you willing to fight your old clan, and every cat in it, without any emotional connections to them interfering?” she demanded.
Ivy was a bit caught off guard, and blinked a few times to recover himself. For a moment he thought of his old mentor, and the other apprentices he grew up with. But then he remembered how they had stood there, doing nothing as both his parents were slaughtered and he was exiled from the clan.
Ivy’s eyes hardened and he met the RiverClan leader’s eyes firmly. “I am,” he proclaimed.
Leopardstar studied him briefly before nodding her approval. Then the spotted she-cat turned to her clan and announced. “I will allow him to stay in RiverClan.”
After a few murmurs of protest, Leopardstar dismissed the situation, claiming that Ivy will just have to prove his loyalty to the clan in the future. “Tell the clan your name,” Leopardstar ordered the ginger ex-rogue.
Ivy straightened his back and meowed, “I go by Ivy,” in a voice as loud as he could manage with his nervousness.
He saw Pixiepaw’s ears perk up, but the white she-cat still refused to look at Ivy. He resisted the urge to pad over to her and spill his guts right that second. Here, while the ginger tom remained the centre of attention, was not the time.
Pixieflight’s pelt pricked stubbornly as the ginger tom announced his name, erasing any mistake that he was not the cat Pixieflight had met that time many moons ago. The fluffy she-cat’s heart clenched with sorrow. She couldn’t believe that fish-brain could’ve forgotten about her.
Her tail flicked in a mixture of hurt and annoyance. I mean, it wasn’t like I thought about him that much… Pixieflight’s mind suddenly became defensive. But, I still remembered him! You can’t just… forget someone like that… Pixieflight just couldn’t get over the look in his familiar green eyes when she had greeted him. There wasn’t even a flicker of confusion. There was just, nothing there.
Pixieflight decided she had had a long enough day, and started off towards the warriors den to sleep. She wasn’t quite sure, but she could've almost sworn someone had followed her.
When she entered the den, Pixieflight was relieved to find it empty. But of course it was; everyone was outside checking out the new forgetful clanmate.
With a rush of bitterness, Pixieflight flopped miserably on her nest and shut her eyes to nap. Her mind swirled with strange images, fueled by her sour attitude. Images of Ivy from back then, his charming eyes glinting with fun as he taunted her for her fluffiness. The sorrowful look that filled those eyes as he confided in Pixieflight about his exile from his clan, the warm feeling that filled Pixieflight’s heart when he…
“Feeling sleepy, Snowball?” The ginger tom’s voice was suddenly loud, and real.
The sound of Ivy’s voice snapped Pixieflight from her daze and her heart surged with exhilaration. She jumped up and whirled around to face the ex-rogue.
“You do remember!” Pixieflight exclaimed, aghast, her blue eyes blazing.
Ivy purred in amusement, his eyes sparkling again. “Of course I do, did you think I’d forget?” he replied nudging the flabbergasted she-cat with his shoulder.
Pixieflight opened her mouth, and then shut it again. “I… you had me thinking so!” the fluffy white warrior protested with a huff.
Ivy tilted his head, giving her a level stare. “And what do you think your friends there would have said if a ShadowClan rogue greeted you like a clanmate?” he asked her logically.
Pixieflight blinked and looked considerably chastised, awkwardly staring at her paws. “W-well I didn’t think about that… they would have been angry…” she murmured.
Ivy mrrowed with glee, shaking his head. Then the ginger tom looked up at Pixieflight curiously. “So, what’s your name now? No wait, let me guess.” His green eyes glinted playfully. “Pixiefluff!” He purred, purring harder when Pixieflight flashed him a glare.
The white she-cat shifted her paws, ruffling her fur peevishly. She met the jokester tom’s eyes levelly; trying to conceal her annoyance, lest he enjoy himself too much. “My name is Pixieflight, if you really need to know,” she informed him shortly.
Ivy nodded to her, and they started sharing tongues in the empty warriors den. Eventually, Ivy asked her about Wildpaw, sharing how he had seen the young apprentice react to Fernpaw’s gossip, and Pixieflight suddenly found herself confiding in the ginger tom about her worries as a mentor.
She went on about her concerns about Wildpaw’s health, her inability to catch prey, Pixieflight insecurity about teaching her, the pressure from her clanmates; everything! The white she-cat couldn’t seem to stop herself. She had needed to unload these burdens for so long, and she enjoyed the funny tom’s presence.
When she was done spilling her guts to Ivy, Pixieflight felt a huge load come off her shoulders, and for the first time in a long while, she felt free as a kit.
“I’m sorry. For going on and on like that…” the she-cat warrior apologised, suddenly embarrassed of herself. Afterall, she didn’t know the tom that well.
But Ivy merely nodded in response, assuring her it was okay. “I… couldn’t help but notice,” the ginger tom began, somewhat hesitantly. “You- you said something about proving your worth to the clan. I don’t mean to pry, but what did you mean by that?” the ex-rogue asked, gentle curiosity edging his tone.
Pixieflight blinked and looked down at her paws. She hadn’t truly realised how much she’d told him. But when she looked in his eyes, she could only see heart-felt concern.
The fluffy she-cat sighed, “I’m not exactly, fully RiverClan,” she confessed.
The ginger tom’s eyes widened, but he remained silent, gesturing for Pixieflight to continue. The she-cat closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “My… mother was a… she was… She was a kittypet…” she mumbled at last.
Ivy blinked in surprise, but besides that, the ginger tom showed no signs of reacting. Most cats would be repelled by the fact that another cat shared kittypet blood; it was generally looked down upon by all the clans. Pixieflight had certainly experienced the prejudice in her own clan.
But Ivy didn’t look at the fluffy white she-cat that way. He only looked at her with a certain respect, but also with something different that Pixieflight had never seen before: Understanding.
It suddenly hit Pixieflight that of course Ivy understood her; he had experienced nearly the same exact thing! The white she-cat felt a new and deeper connection to the rugged ginger tom. It was a feeling she quite enjoyed. Never had Pixieflight known anyone in her clan that understood her pain; that knew what it was like to be discriminated, and to not really belong anywhere.
Her heart warmed as she thought of the ex-rogue’s playful yet kind personality, and found the ginger tom’s presence was extremely appealing.
At that thought, Pixieflight suddenly found that her pelt was burning from her paws to her tail tip, and she flicked her tail in alarm; recognising the feeling. She had felt it once before, when she and Ivy had first met. But familiarity didn’t make the sensation any less distressful.
Why is this happening to me? Pixieflight flattened her ears, and her eyes darted nervously around the warrior’s den. Ivy peered at her strangely, and opened his mouth question her, but Pixieflight cut him off saying, “I- I have to go, sorry!” And she fled the den.
The white she-cat padded briskly across the camp, her fluffy fur unseemly ruffled. Her paw-steps subconsciously led her towards her old mentor, who was enjoying a piece of fresh-kill by herself. As Pixieflight approached Minnowtail, the grey and white she-cat looked up from the silver fish she was eating to greet her former apprentice.
“Good sunhigh, Pixieflight. Nice to see you,” Minnowtail paused, noticing Pixieflight’s bristling fur and subdued demeanor. “What’s wrong?” she asked simply.
Pixieflight looked up at her, allowing her out-of-hand emotions to come spilling out. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!” the young she-cat wailed. “I was minding my business, sharing tongues, and then all of the sudden my pelt starts burning! I felt crazy nervous, and then, I started stuttering like a fish-brain! I have no idea what’s wrong with me!” Pixieflight looked up at her mentor desperately, hoping to find form of comfort in her.
But, to the she-cat warrior’s surprise, her mentor was smiling; her eyes filled with mirth.
Minnowtail looked up at the sky and mrrowed with laughter. She continued to purr gleefully as Pixieflight just stood there in shocked silence.
Finally, the grey and white she-cat stopped and looked into her former apprentice’s eyes, still barely concealing her merriment. “And who, exactly, where you sharing tongues with?” was Minnowtail’s response.
Pixieflight blinked slowly, still caught off-guard by her old mentor’s response. She opened her mouth to answer, and felt her ears flush with heat once again. “I-Ivy…”
Minnowtail shook her head and purred. “Oh, Pixieflight, Pixieflight… That’s what I’d call flustered. And I don’t blame you either, he’s a pretty one.”
Pixieflight suddenly flushed in horror at Minnowtail’s words. “What!?” she exclaimed; stricken. “I-I don’t… you… wha-” Pixieflight couldn’t manage a single sentence.
Minnowtail purred again and stroked the white she-cat’s flank with her tail. “Oh, come on,” she began. “You know what I mean,” her amber eyes blinked playfully.
Pixieflight shook her head, refusing the gray and white she-cat’s gaze. The unsettled white warrior grumbled under breath. She would have to settle this another time.
“Let all cats old enough to swim come and gather to hear my words!” Pixieflight perked her ears at her leader’s call.
The fluffy she-cat glanced over at her sleeping grey apprentice, and was ashamed of the feeling that washed over her.
It was disappointment.
Pixieflight shook it away aggressively; scolding herself for such thoughts, but she couldn’t help but think that deep down, it’s how she truly felt. Wildpaw was a great cat with a wonderful personality, but she had some major issues that no other apprentice had.
Pixieflight couldn’t help but envy Pouncetail a little bit; Flintpaw didn’t have any issues.
Pixieflight shook her head. How could she think like that? She loved Wildpaw, and there was no doubt her apprentice was doing the best she could. Pixieflight nudged the young grey she-cat to wake her up, and then signaled her to follow. Wildpaw blinked open her eyes, and stretched her legs; her mouth widening in a large yawn.
The young apprentice rose to her paws and mumbled, “I’m up, I’m up…”
As the two she-cats took their places with the rest of the clan, Leopardstar addressed them again. “RiverClan, those chosen to accompany will be leaving now for the Gathering! Let us go!”
Pixieflight jumped to her paws, all negative emotions from earlier forgotten. She would really be going to the Gathering this moon! And with an apprentice of her own! Pixieflight scampered onward, brimming with excitement.
Besides herself, Wildpaw, and Mistyfoot obviously; Blackclaw, Mosspelt, Rippletail, Pouncetail, Pinefur, and Swallowtail were the other warriors attending. The other apprentices were Sneezepaw, Mallowpaw, and Copperpaw.
Pixieflight leaped enthusiastically into the pebble-filled beach, trying to recall her last Gathering. Pixieflight’s joy suddenly dulled, realizing that the last time she had attended a Gathering, was when she had become a warrior. And I’m only here now because I’m a mentor to their new apprentice, the troublesome one!
The white she-cat’s stomach turned as she realized how accurate it was. Pixieflight had only been to two Gathering’s in her entire life: one when she became an apprentice, and one when she became a warrior.
And a third time when I receive my own apprentice. Pixieflight thought bitterly.
She looked to Pouncetail. They were eight moons apart, but the ginger and white tom was already coming to his fifth gathering. The misfit she-cat’s pelt flared with resentment, and she lowered her head and seated herself next to her apprentice.
“Um, Pixieflight…” Wildpaw’s small voice inquired timidly. “Are you…”
The brooding white warrior cut her apprentice off with a flick of her tail. “I’m perfectly fine, why don’t you go speak to the other apprentices. They’re bound to welcome you,” Pixieflight’s encouraging words were laced with an icy bitterness that Wildpaw knew nothing about.
The young apprentice bounced off to join the others; leaving Pixieflight by her lonesome to mope. This Gathering was just about ruined for her, so she decided not to speak to anyone. But after a few minutes, a thin white she-cat with a large ginger spot on her back approached the pouting white RiverClan cat with an odd look in her eye.
“You look kind of lonely, would you like some company?” the she-cat asked Pixieflight.
Pixeiflight was flattered by the she-cat’s request. She nodded to her, scenting that she was a ThunderClan cat.
More than flattered, Pixieflight was also puzzled. This she-cat didn’t know anything about her, so why was she keeping Pixieflight company? She was certainly pretty, and her scent had the oddest familiarity.
“This is my third Gathering,” the ThunderClan stranger spoke up. “I don’t really care for them. I don’t like other cats to know how useless I am.”
Pixeflight started at her words. She whirled to face the she-cat. “What on earth do you mean? I wouldn’t think that!” she found herself exclaiming.
But the she-cat shook her head, smiling sadly. “But it’s true. Look,” she gestured to her right leg, which to Pixieflight’s surprise, was riddled with scars.
“Great StarClan!” the fluffy white she-cat blurted before she could stop herself. Then more timidly she responded, “I hadn’t noticed.”
The pretty she-cat smiled sadly again, looking down at her limb. But Pixieflight couldn’t accept that her injury made her worthless. “But- I saw you walk! You weren’t limping,” she insisted.
The ThunderClan warrior shook her head. “It’s fine when I walk, but I can’t run," she explained, a change coming over her. "I can’t fight, I’m no good as a medicine cat, I’m just useless. I can’t do anything!” The she-cat’s face was suddenly scrunched up sorrowfully; her eyes brimming with moisture.
The single-spotted she-cat rose suddenly to her feet, mumbling an apology, and started off away; limping badly. Pixieflight was startled by the she-cat’s sudden appearance and departure, and all that she had said. It left her baffled and filled with unanswered questions. She still didn’t understand why the ThunderClan she-cat had spoken to her in the first place!
With all these questions whirling around in her mind, Pixieflight hadn’t noticed the cat that came up behind her until she spoke. “Don’t mind her grumblings.”
Pixieflight jumped at the voice and turned around to face the speaker. She was surprised to see the kind face she recognised as Leafpool, the ThunderClan medicine cat. The light brown tabby she-cat looked down sadly at Pixieflight, her eyes not even seeing the fluffy white she-cat.
Then Leafpool turned her dismal gaze on the spotted she-cat. “She’s not really wounded. I fixed her leg up just fine. The thing is,” the medicine cat frowned. “She refuses to let it be healed.”
When Leafpool met Pixieflight’s confused look, she went on. “It’s psychological. See, she was traumatized as a newborn kit. Both her siblings were killed, and she was injured. Since then she has never let it go that she was the only one who survived,” Leafpool explained.
Pixieflight blinked. This was not something the furry she-cat was expecting to hear. Pixieflight’s heart was filled with sympathy for the ThunderClan she-cat.
For a few moments, the two cats sat in silence, mourning her tragedies. Then Leafpool shook herself, as if awakening from a daydream. She climbed to her feet briskly, and nodded to Pixieflight. “Well,” the ThunderClan medicine cat began.
Pixieflight stood up suddenly, not wanting the medicine cat to leave her with still so many unanswered questions. “Wait, you don’t have to-” Leafpool cut her off with a swipe of her tail.
“The leaders are starting. I’ll join my clan now,” she responded.
Pixieflight blinked. She glanced at the Great Oak, and realized Leafpool was right. “Oh, alright… Could you, um… could you tell me that she-cat’s name?” she pleaded awkwardly.
For a split-second Leafpool looked as if she might refuse, but instead she replied, “Spotcloud.” And walked away. Pixieflight froze for a moment, feeling quite unnatural. Something about Spotcloud had carried the oddest familiarity to it, and Pixieflight just couldn’t pin it down.
At last, she snapped out of it when Onestar called the Gathering into session. Pixieflight scampered hurriedly to join her clan next to Wildpaw. The young apprentice’s eyes were filled with wonder and excitement, just as Pixieflight’s had been earlier that day. The white she-cat felt a glow of warmth for the eager she-cat, that dispersed any negative feelings from before.
Pixieflight surged with pride as Leopardstar announced Wildpaw’s apprenticeship, and vowed in her heart to do everything she could to make Wildpaw the best warrior in RiverClan.
Even if it means I have to fish. Pixieflight squirmed at the thought, but her mind was determined. She would teach Wildpaw, if it was the last thing she would do.
After ShadowClan and ThunderClan shared their news, the Gathering came to a close. Leaders jumped down from the Great Oak, and cats split into their clans to travel home. As Pixieflight turned to leave, she felt an eerie sense wash over her.
Some cat is watching me.
She turned to locate the source of the gaze, and her blue eyes fell on the hardened green eyes of Firestar. She nearly flinched from his stare, and he immediately looked away.
But Pixieflight couldn’t shake the odd look she had seen their.
In fact, it was akin to the look buried in Leafpool’s eyes, but hers had been far more guarded. It was suspicion, but beneath its hostile exterior, lay shock and recognition.
This is an interesting one. Most of it is setting up for future events rather than anything else. I hope you enjoy it, and please, anyone who's reading, I would love to hear your reviews or critique of the story. Thanks!
“So how was the Gathering, Snowball?” a teasing voice sparked irritation in Pixieflight’s belly, but also great playfulness.
“Don’t forget, I’m a viscous one,” the she-cat replied, flashing a mock glare.
Ivy nodded, closing his eyes, as if deep in thought. He murmured his agreement, and then turned suddenly serious. “Did you, speak with any cats from ShadowClan?” the ginger tom meowed anxiously, his eyes filling with a mix of emotions.
Pixieflight looked up soberly, shaking her head. He nodded, looking slightly crestfallen, but grimly acceptant.
Pixieflight regretted not talking with the others when she had had the chance. She could have at least paid attention to which cats were there!
Then she perked up, recalling her apprentice’s social adventures. “Wildpaw might have spoken to some of them, she was quite eager to share tongues with the other clan cats.”
But Ivy flicked his tail dismissively. “It’s alright, I was just… wondering,” he sighed.
They sat awkwardly in front of one another, unsure of what to say next. Pixieflight looked down at the fresh-kill she had picked from the pile, debating whether or not to offer sharing it. Just thinking about that filled Pixieflight with joy, but it also washed her with that dreaded feeling.
Pixieflight decided to choose enjoying a nice meal with Ivy. “W-would you… do you want to share this?” she stammered, increasingly frustrated with her inability to speak.
Ivy mrrowed in laughter and nodded, stooping to take a bite from the perch laying at Pixieflight’s feet. They ate and shared tongues until the sun had risen halfway up the sky. Then Pixieflight suggested they take the hunting patrol, along with Wildpaw.
The white warrior frowned when she had to wake the young apprentice from her late sunrise sleep, but she didn’t say a word. Instead she led her apprentice into the forest without letting her eat any fresh-kill.
Wildpaw noticed, but she didn’t complain. Pixieflight at least had that to work with.
“Alright, Wildpaw. We’ll head to the river today.” Wildpaw’s eyes widened in shock, and she opened her mouth to question, but thought better of it when she glanced at Ivy.
Pixieflight was glad her apprentice was kind and sensible enough not to reveal her hatred for fishing in front of the teasing ginger tom. She blinked her appreciation and turned back towards her path. Panic struck her as she realized nobody else with her knew the way to the river. Pixieflight wasn’t confident in her memory of the way there, but she couldn’t opt out now!
Uncertainly she continued; deep in concentration, and fearful that every step was taking them in the wrong direction.
Fortunately, Pixieflight’s memory didn’t fail her, and they made it finally to the river. Thank StarClan! She silently prayed. But her nervousness had not gone unnoticed. Ivy was giving her an odd stare, and from the look in his eye, Pixieflight knew she was in for it now.
“Been here often, Snowball?” the ginger tom teased.
Pixieflight sniffed and replied, “One would wonder why you bothered to learn my name,” hoping to change the subject, but Ivy persisted.
“You looked pretty lost there, are you sure you know the way?” he nagged, ducking away in case Pixieflight swiped at him.
But she didn’t. Instead, she ignored his taunting and padded firmly towards the riverbed; ears back, tail straight, and pelt bristling. Wildpaw stumbled up beside her, and Ivy joined a few moments later, slightly dejected.
Pixieflight continued to ignore him, and concentrated all her effort on the shifting waves of the stream. Her eyes bore down, desperately seeking the silver flash of a fish. She could worry about mentoring afterwards.
All of a sudden, she spotted it; in the corner of her vision a streak of silver appeared on the surface of a wave. In an instant the panicked she-cat lunged, praying to StarClan that her claws would meet their target. And miraculously, they did!
With a cry of excitement, Pixieflight felt the wriggling fish crunch beneath her claws, and it’s movement stop. She thanked StarClan as she lifted the silve rfish in her jaws, and turned back to her companions on the shore.
Wildpaw was watching her with a look of pride and adoration, while Ivy’s eyes were filled with an amused curiosity. Pixieflight dropped her prey at their feet, and turned to Wildpaw.
“So, do it… Like that,” the white warrior explained, unsure how to instruct her apprentice about something she barely knew how to do herself. Then Pixieflight remembered Minnowtail’s instructions from when she was an apprentice under the gray and white she-cat.
Pixieflight paused, taking a moment to close her eyes and concentrate. Then the fluffy she-cat carefully recited her former mentor’s words; watching Wildpaw nod slowly as she drank in the instructions.
After she had finished, she invited Wildpaw to attempt herself. Pixieflight felt a moment of disheartenment as she recalled how long it had taken for Wildpaw to catch her first mouse. How long would it be again, before she caught a single fish?
Pixieflight suppressed a groan and reminded herself of her conviction. No matter what it took, she was going to make Wildpaw a warrior.
Pixieflight glanced next to her, realizing that Ivy was staring at her. With a nervous twitch, she snapped, “What are you looking at?”
Ivy blinked in surprise, but then smiled in his famous joking way. “Just watching the excitement of an apprentice’s first catch,” he replied.
Pixieflight ruffled her fur. “You were staring at me,” she pointed out in annoyance.
The ginger tom cocked his head and grinned smugly. “I know,” he said.
Pixieflight’s eyes widened, and she stared at the tom in disbelief. “Ah- What- shut up,” she grumbled sourly.
Ivy purred in amusement. It seemed like he was about to say something more, but was interrupted by a splash as Wildpaw dove into the stream.
They both turned to look, and Pixieflight was pleasantly surprised to see her young apprentice stumbling to her feet; a small shiny fish in her jaws, “You caught one! Great job, Wildpaw!” Pixieflight purred in praise.
Her gray apprentice glimmered with pride and she shakily made her way back to the riverbed. About two paw-steps from the shore, Wildpaw took a step a bit too far away, and it slipped off of a wet stone. Ivy and Pixieflight rushed to help her, but they were too late.
The young apprentice slipped and flopped onto her belly in the middle of the stream. The tide swept her up immediately, and both mentor and companion rushed through the rushing waters after the clumsy she-cat, desperately attempting to catch on to her fur. They struggled fiercely after the young gray she-cat, and at last it was Ivy who reached her.
The gasping ginger tom gripped firmly on the struggling apprentices scruff, and yanked her out of the river and onto the shore.
Pixieflight; however, scrambled with all of her might just to make it back to the shore herself. She was drenched from head to tail-tip in both water and shame. The white she-cat had never felt like more of a failure.
What kind of a RiverClan cat was she if she couldn’t even save her own apprentice? An inexperienced ShadowClan rogue had swam better than her!
Furiously, Pixieflight shook the water from her pelt, and rushed over to where Ivy and Wildpaw sat, still coughing and wheezing. “Are you- Are you two okay?” she hacked.
Ivy looked up at her, his eyes exhausted. “We’ll live,” he replied, with just a hint of his notorious humor lingering.
Wildpaw coughed again, and then opened her mouth to speak. “I’m sorry, Pixieflight. I-I slipped and…”
Pixieflight cut her off by pressing her muzzle into the young apprentices fur. “It’s okay, I know, I know…” The three cats were far too tired to discuss blame.
With a sudden pang of sympathy, Pixieflight realized that Wildpaw had dropped her fish. Of course no one could blame her after what had just occurred, but Pixieflight felt bad she had lost her first catch. Especially after how proud she had been of it.
Pixieflight sighed. They would have to try again next time.
“Spotcloud are you sure you can walk by yourself? I can help you, I really don’t mind!” Brightheart purred gently yet worriedly.
Spotcloud sighed loud enough to wake ShadowClan. She loved her mother, but Brightheart had the tendency to overcompensate. Stiffening in irritation, she replied, “No, Brightheart. I’m fine.” She regretted her tone as the one-eyed she-cat flinched away, but she just couldn’t bear the smothering.
Spotcloud knew it was something she had to bear, being the only one who survived Brightheart’s second kitting, but it was too much sometimes. The slender spotted she-cat slunk gloomily away; trying to hide her limp, and failing. As she approached the warrior’s den, she saw her father return from hunting patrol with her sister: Whitewing.
While the death of her kin turned Brightheart into a fussy mess, it had driven Cloudtail closer than ever to his first daughter. Not that he didn’t fuss over Spotcloud too.
With a roll of her eyes, Spotcloud limped into the warrior’s den. A few minutes after the dreary she-cat settled into a nest, she heard the nimble paw-steps of Whitewing entering the den. She acknowledged the white warrior with a grunt, but didn’t turn to face her.
Whitewing paused, and seated herself on the den floor. For a long moment, neither of the two cats spoke.
Then Whitewing sighed and said, “I’m sorry if Brightheart worries over you so much, but that doesn’t mean you can be rude.” Spotcloud stifled a groan.
“Brightheart doesn’t just worry, she freaks! And she’s unbearably doting,” Spotcloud complained, rolling over to speak to her sister.
The white she-cat met her levely. “You know why that is Spotcloud. You can at least give her a little grace,” Whitewing’s eyes clouded suddenly, and Spotcloud was filled with apology.
The crippled she-cat tore away from her sister’s gaze. “I-I know… I’m sorry.”
They paused for a series of moments, neither one of them sure was to say. Spotcloud glanced hesitantly back up at Whitewing, a question ready on her heart. “Whitewing… Can you… Tell me about, that day?” she asked timidly. “Brightheart and Cloudtail never want to,” she added.
Whitewing hesitated, but eventually she complied. With a sigh, she walked over to Spotcloud’s nest and pressed her flank into her sister’s as she curled up beside her. “I always regretted not being there. I was on hunting patrol when you three were born, you know. I cursed myself for missing your birth, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as when I missed the attack. Well, I guess that isn’t accurate,” Whitewing paused, correcting herself. “I wasn’t with you in the nursery. I had planned on visiting you after I finished my meal, but it was too late by that time.” Whitewing’s voice failed her, and she took a moment to collect herself.
Spotcloud wrapped her tail around the brave she-cat’s back to comfort her.
Whitewing blinked and went on, “I smelled them coming, I was the first to shout a warning. But- But I was also the first to be attacked. A ShadowClan warrior bowled me over before I could blink my eyes. I saw them run in the nursery, and I saw Smokefoot run out with your sister, but I couldn’t do a thing. Jayfeather and Leafpool did more than I did. It was Lionblaze who ran after your sister, and it was Brightheart who saved your life. I didn’t do a thing.”
Spotcloud blinked in surprise at the emotion coming from Whitewing. She had thought only Brightheart and Cloudtail had been this attached to her former littermates. All Spotcloud could do was give Whitewing a lick and stroke her with her tail to calm the sorrowful white warrior. Spotcloud knew there wasn’t much more she could say to Whitewing.
“Hey,” Spotcloud said, hoping to change the subject to cheer her up. “I met someone at the Gathering. You know, the one about three moons ago? I told them my story, I don’t know why. They seemed kind of lonely and upset, like me.” Whitewing was looking up at her now; her interest peaked, so Spotcloud went on. “They were very comfortable to talk to. And they were sympathetic too. Um, she was a white she-cat like you, from RiverClan. I… didn’t learn her name though…”
Spotcloud was beginning to feel awkward, but the memory of the she-cat stood out to her in the oddest way possible, she just had to share it.
“She had the most beautiful blue eyes, too.” Whitewing started a bit at Spotcloud’s words, her eyes glittering with suspicion, and another emotion Spotcloud didn’t recognise.
Whitewing stiffened her jaw. “There are no cats like that in RiverClan! Have they been involved with kittypets I wonder…” she murmured, a weird, out of place tone in her voice.
Spotcloud flicked her ears uncomfortably. “Maybe, I guess… If it’s only kittypets that look like Cloudtail.”
Both sisters froze suddenly. Spotcloud’s words had sparked up something that neither of them could put out. The RiverClan she-cat looked uncannily like their father, Cloudtail…
***
“Hey, Pixieflight,” Ivy’s sleepy voice murmured. “Where’d you get this scar?” He nudged at a pale pink marking on Pixieflight’s left leg with his muzzle.
“Oh, go back to sleep! I have patrol tomorrow, and you’re acting like you just took a stock of catmint!” Pixieflight grumbled, still half-asleep. But Ivy persisted groggily.
“But I’ve been wondering… Did a kitty scratch you, Snowball?” he teased, and Pixieflight lifted her head and squinted at him, still too tired to make sense of anything.
The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the rest of the night was still. Not a single other cat stirred in their slumber.
Pixieflight blinked again, trying to recall the answer so Ivy would let her sleep. “I… I don’t know, I’ve just always had it,” she mumbled, laying her head back down on it’s side. Then, with a vengeful annoyance, she added, “Where did you get your scars?”
Now it was the ginger tom’s turn to blink. He obviously wasn’t fully awake, so he replied, “A… lot of places. Which one-s-s, do you mean?” Ivy’s words slurred as he spoke.
Pixieflight closed her eyes irritably, wishing the dumb tom hadn’t woken her so late. “I don’t know, the nick on your ear, how about?” she suggested.
Suddenly, Ivy’s eyes cleared of their grogginess, and he stared back at the white she-cat; his eyes filled with pain. He had clearly come to a painful awakening, and Pixieflight regretted causing it. The ginger tom twitched his nicked ear and turned away from her.
But after a few moments of silence, Ivy turned his gaze back to the tired fluffy she-cat and spoke, “Blackstar gave it to me. When he drove me from ShadowClan.”
Pixieflight nearly gasped, surprised that the ginger tom would tell her this. But he went on. “I still remember the look in his eyes, the pure hatred… It was right after he killed my mother. Right in front of me he did that. No cat was expecting it, and I barely heard my father’s scream over my own.”
Pixieflight knew that in the sober light of day, Ivy would never share this information with her. And even though she was curious, for his sake she wished he would stop.
But Ivy didn’t stop. He continued saying, “I was so stunned, you know? I didn’t know what was happening. Then my father leaped on Blackstar and they fought like dogs. I’d never seen so much anger in my life. I approached Tallpoppy’s body; my mother’s, and everything felt like a dream. A nightmare.” The ex-ShadowClan tom’s eyes were brimming with tears, and Pixieflight couldn’t bring herself to say a word.
Ivy spilled to the white she-cat his story, his grief, his anger; and Pixieflight only listened in stunned silence. The tom was shaking from head to tail, his claws unsheathed. Even though he seemed quite awake, Pixieflight knew Ivy was not his true self.
“You know,” Ivy nearly laughed. “My father won. Blackstar refused any help from his clanmates, confident in his victory, but my father beat him. He took a life from him.” Ivy paused, lashing his tail furiously; his eyes darkened with rage. “But as the sick tyrant lay dead, and my father stumbled back, covered in blood; Blackstar’s cursed deputy killed him.”
Pixieflight had had enough. She stood up and padded briskly over to the shaking angry tom. She wrapped her tail around the ginger tom’s back soothingly. “Shh, Ivy, it’s okay. You don’t have to relive that. It’s terrible that that happened, and I’m sorry, but for now, please sleep.” Pixieflight pleaded desperately.
Her comforting words and touch seemed to calm him, and he slowly settled his bristling fur and blinked his eyes closed. Pixieflight planned to stay with him until he was asleep, but; her overwhelming tiredness took over, and she fell into slumber beside him.
The next morning, Ivy awoke to find Pixieflight asleep, her warm, soft body curled up beside him in his nest. After a moment of shock, he recovered, vaguely recalling the last night’s events.
The ginger tom barely remembered waking up, but fuzzily remembered speaking to her about scars and Blackstar.
Ivy’s eyes widened in horror as he tried to recollect what he had said. With a nervous glance to Pixieflight, he realized he must have said something drastic.
Blurry memories of his parent’s deaths came to his mind, and he soon realized what it was.
He glanced sadly at the peaceful white she-cat sleeping soundly beside his nest, and he deeply regretted what he may have shared. There was no need for her to be told of such things.
With a heavy sigh, Ivy stretched and exited the warrior’s den to hunt. By the time the tom returned, Pixieflight was awake and sharing tongues with Wildpaw, until she saw him approach with his fresh-kill. She bounded over to him, a question waiting in her crystal blue eyes.
Ivy sighed, readying himself. Pixieflight reached him, and sure enough she questioned the ginger tom about the previous night. With a shrug, Ivy told the worrisome she-cat that he didn’t remember anything; which wasn’t totally a lie, and she hesitated.
For a moment she looked as if she was going to say more, but instead she nodded and said, “Alright… you were really sleepy, so, I didn’t think you would.” And walked off.
Ivy watched the thick-furred pure white she-cat trot across the camp, and he was filled with a warm feeling in his heart; Ivy knew he loved her. He had known for quite a while now, but he wasn’t sure how she felt. The tom didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or ruin their companionship.
For now, he was happy being a friend. Someday, however; that might change.
***
Pixieflight tried to avoid Minnowtail’s sidelong glances as the fuzzy white she-cat scampered uncomfortably along the cold earth with her former mentor and her apprentice alongside her.
Pixieflight hadn’t thought twice about it when the gray and white she-cat had suggested the three of them take dawn patrol together, but now she regretted agreeing.
Two heartbeats before Wildpaw had sautered up to join them with Rippletail, Minnowtail had whispered in Pixieflight’s ear: “Got a little chilly last night, did it?” and then proceeded forward with a playful glint never leaving her blue eyes.
Even now, as they walked silently along the stream, the old she-cat was fixing Pixieflight with that knowing stare.
Pixieflight flattened her ears defensively and hissed under her breath, “It wasn’t what you think, okay!” But the gray and white she-cat just purred in amusement.
Wildpaw eyed them quizzically, but remained silent. Rippletail merely smiled to himself, pretending not to here the she-cat’s conversation. Minnowtail; however, was not finished yet.
As they reached the end of the river and turned to head for Small Thunderpath, she bat Pixieflight’s rump affectionately and meowed, “There is love in the air!” in a low, yet sing-song voice.
Pixieflight aimed a swat at her old mentor’s ear, but stumbled as the gray and white she-cat ducked away. “Shut up! I told you it’s not like that!” the bristling white she-cat spat, bewildered by her own fury, and stopping mid-stride. “He- he had a nightmare… I was just- comforting him…” Pixieflight explained awkwardly, her pelt burning as she noticed her apprentice was staring with wide eyes.
Minnowtail shook her head. “Whatever you say,” the she-cat purred, and continued walking toward their destination.
Pixieflight shook herself and stomped forward angrily. Wildpaw followed timidly, but the gray apprentice’s eyes burned with curiosity.
After a long quiet while, Pixieflgiht cooled down and began thinking of a reasonable way to make sure her companions never spoke of this again to any cat.
But as the white she-cat’s mind whirled around brainstorming, Pixieflight’s thoughts were interrupted by a foreign scent filling her nose.
ShadowClan!
All four RiverClan cats braced themselves for combat, hissing and yowling at the source of the intruding scent. Pixieflight’s pelt prickled with a multitude of odd emotions. One of the most prominent being completely out of place. It was a sensation she was getting oddly accustomed to: One of the scents was vaguely familiar.
But the white she-cat had no time to ponder such feelings, because a moment later five ShadowClan cats appeared in front of small Thunderpath; a menacing glare in their eyes.
“Intruders! This is RiverClan territory!” Minnowtail spat ferociously, thrashing her tail.
But the ShadowClan cats just sneered at them. The middle cat; whom Pixieflight recognized as ShadowClan’s deputy, Russetfur, spoke up. “May as well be ours, since you cats are basically kin to fish,” she proclaimed smugly.
A lethal growl rumbled in the three RiverClan cat’s throats.
How dare she! We’ll show her! Pixieflight’s heart pounded with adrenaline and rage, but her mind spoke rationally. The white she-cat glanced at the young gray she-cat beside her worriedly.
Wildpaw was barely an apprentice, and she was far behind on battle training. If the young she-cat were to engage in an unbalanced fight against these five ruthless warriors, she may not survive.
Pixieflight gulped, hesitating within the frozen tension, and then made up her mind. “Wildpaw, get a patrol over here, now!” she commanded suddenly.
Wildpaw hesitated, immediate concern filling her eyes. “But I can’t-”
“Do it!” Pixieflight snapped, prompting Wildpaw to abruptly spin on her heels and bolt back towards the camp.
The ShadowClan warrior, Oakfur, had already leaped across small Thunderpath ahead of his clanmates in an attempt to chase the fleeing apprentice, but Pixieflight bowled him over before he could reach her.
The fight proceeding from there was a vicious mess. Pixieflight, Minnowtail and Rippletail fought hard, but they were severely outnumbered.
Pixieflight managed to rake her claws over the ShadowClan apprentice, Raggedpaw’s, eyes, in a flurry of confusion. The brown patched tom yowled in pain and fled the battle as Smokefoot tackled Pixieflight to the ground. The white warrior struggled against the powerful gray tom, but found herself suffering under his blows.
Meanwhile, Minnowtail fought valiantly against the ShadowClan deputy, but was overwhelmed by the dark ginger’s sheer strength and battle experience. Rippletail fought well and managed to gain the advantage over one ShadowClan warrior, but another knocked him over whilst he was distracted.
They were hopelessly outnumbered, and all the RiverClan she-cats could do was pray to StarClan Wildpaw would make it in time.
The battle tarried on, and Pixieflight became more and more weary as she barely managed to keep up with the experienced ShadowClan warrior. And when she did gain the advantage, one of the warrior’s fighting Rippletail would rush to the gray ShadowClan warrior’s side and Pixieflight would lose it.
On top of all that, Pixieflight couldn’t shake the odd feeling that came over her as she breathed in Smokefoot’s rank scent. The look in the ShadowClan tom’s eyes was malicious, but there was a wicked laughter dancing inside them. It was like somehow he knew Pixieflight, and he was enjoying playing games with her.
As Pixieflight rolled back and gained some distance, the two combatants began pacing. Pixieflight struggled to draw breath as she tread on her weary paws, but her mind raced tirelessly. She just needed to stall them long enough for Wildpaw to return with the others.
Smokefoot tilted his head and sneered at Pixieflight. “What’s wrong? Are you tired kittypet?” he meowed.
Pixieflight growled and stopped pacing; dropping to a crouch. “How did you know that about me?” she hissed, curious despite herself.
Instead of responding, Smokefoot laughed and pounced.
Pixieflight leaped back to avoid his attack, but he struck her on the nose. Dripping blood, the white she-cat hissed and swiped at the ShadowClan warrior until he sprung away to a safe distance to pace once more.
As he walked he spoke. “You're covered in my former apprentice's scent. Has he found a mate already in his new clan?”
Pixieflight stiffened, a disgusted growl rumbling in her throat. So this is Ivy’s old mentor, huh? The fluffy she-cat glared at Smokefoot without replying.
Smokefoot threw up his head in laughter, before swinging his head back to meet Pixieflight’s gaze; his eyes suddenly cold. “I’ll take your life, and make that half-clan fox-dung pay for his betrayal!” the gray ShadowClan warrior snarled.
Pixieflight’s eyes widened with shock as Smokefoot tackled her to the ground. She rolled over and shook him off, but he swiftly whirled back to face her again; his eyes blazing.
Even as Pixieflight slashed at his limbs and flank, her own exhaustion left the fluffy she-cat open, and that was all it took for Smokefoot to overpower her. He leaped onto her back with a grunt of triumph, and she stumbled to the ground. She wrestled to get free from the ShadowClan warrior’s grip, but his hold was firm.
“You should have stayed dead, mewling kit!” the rasping gray tom hissed haughtily, and he reared back and bit deep into Pixieflight’s neck.
Pain seared through the white she-cat’s scruff, but Pixieflight barely felt it. The gruff tom’s words and familiar voice triggered long-forgotten memories. As the battle scene before her faded, the fluffy white she-cat relieved an event from her kit hood. Pixieflight could feel her scruff jerking around as she was carried through unknown territory, and she could hear voices and sounds, and smell scents from cats she couldn’t remember.
The confused white she-cat was suddenly surrounded by a life; a community, she had lost within the depths of her mind long ago. She heard her mother’s voice, and her father’s. She felt their warmth, and the warmth of her littermates beside her. Pixieflight could taste her mother’s milk, and she heard her parents give her the mysterious name that had not left her.
Suddenly familiar scents came into place. Spotcloud and Leafpool, Smokefoot; she had known them in this forgotten world.
All of a sudden Pixieflight felt the cold shock and rushing current of the stream. The buried source of her hatred for the srteam. She scented Rippletail, and felt a coursing pain in her now scarred leg.
So many mysteries came together, and finally made sense. Pixieflight only wished she hadn’t realized in her final moments.
For a long while Ivy had felt that something was off. The air seemed too still, too quiet. Not a bird sang, nor a prey scurried. The forest seemed to be holding it’s breath.
The odd feeling put Ivy on edge and he jumped at every sound. A creeping feeling of dread was washing over him, and he sniffed the air every few moments, keeping his ears pricked. Other’s began to notice his jumpy behaviour, but none of them knew him enough to ask about it. Except for Pouncetail.
The ginger and white tom had been the almost the only friendly cat in RiverClan, and had spoken to him shortly after Ivy had joined, to introduce himself. The RiverClan tom padded almost nervously toward the fretful ginger cat, his concern visible.
“Is something bothering you? You look like you’ve sented a pack of dogs,” he murmured to Ivy, and then quickly made eye-contact as if to insure this was not the case.
Ivy shook his head, barely managing to keep still. Unable to contain himself any longer, the skittish ginger meowed, “Does anything feel… off, to you?”
Pouncetail blinked. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, perplexed.
Ivy shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure how to explain to the RiverClan tom what he was feeling. It was just so… strange. “Um… I don’t know, like… a tension in the air?” he replied finally, hoping the ginger and white tom would understand him.
But Pouncetail just smirked instead. “It’s like that for a while for all outsiders at first, you know. Give it time, they’ll get used to you,” the tom explained encouragingly.
Ivy just blinked at him, uncomprehending. Then he realized what the RiverClan warrior was saying. “No- I-it’s not that, I just-” he stammered, trying to correct the mistaken tom.
“No really,” Pouncetail continued, still misinterpreting Ivy’s message. “They won’t hate you forever, I promise,” he added reassuringly.
Ivy just shook his head furiously, trying to make the ginger and white tom understand. He continued his attempt at explaining himself; just as terribly, but the frustrated ginger tom was suddenly interrupted by a distant cry for help.
Ivy sprung around, his claws unsheathed. He recognised the voice: it was Wildpaw!
With a hiss of anger he shot off towards the sound, cursing himself for not following his instincts. Everything he had been dreading was coming into place. Wildpaw had been with Pixieflight and Minnowtail on patrol.
If anything happened to her… Ivy did the best he could to banish the thought, but he couldn’t rid himself of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Help!” Wildpaw’s shaking voice cried out again. It sounded terrified and exhausted.
“Wildpaw, what’s happening!?” Ivy called out to her as she appeared before him.
She looked a mess. The young apprentice’s gray fur was tousled and bristling; mixed up with dirt, twigs and leaves. Her eyes blazed with unadulterated fear, and he breathing came in heaving ragged gasps. “Attack, Small Thunder… path, Sh-shadow… Clan…” the worn apprentice stumbled to the ground, unable to speak any further.
But Ivy had heard all he needed.
By the time Wildpaw had finished, Pouncetail and Beechfur had run up to join him and they followed swiftly behind as Ivy dashed toward Small Thunderpath; his paw-steps drumming to the beat of his heart.
The ginger tom’s mind spiraled into panic as he thought of Pixieflight fighting the warrior’s of his old clan. He had to get there in time to save her; he couldn’t lose her! Especially to the likes of his wicked former clanmates. Ivy remembered how in their first meeting, he had defended his clan to Pixieflight. But if they were rotten enough to attack like this and hurt her there was no redemption for them.
As the determined ginger tom ran, he was dimly aware of Wildpaw’s presence among the warriors who had followed. Remembering her exhaustion from before, he knew it was not wise for the young apprentice to join them. But Ivy didn’t have the time to argue with the stubborn gray she-cat, and could barely focus on anything besides the approaching battle anyway.
Suddenly, the yowls of fighting cats reached the apprehensive tom’s ears, and he quickened his pace. A few moments later, he saw them in a desperate flurry; cat scents and blood mingled in a terrifying battle.
Ivy’s clanmates, old and new, were currently tearing eachother apart. The warriors that had followed him cried out and joined the fray, howling viscously. But Ivy was only focused on one thing.
Then, he saw her. Pixieflight’s pelt; normally pure white and fuzzy, was dark and dampened in her own blood. She lay in the midst of the battle, sprawled out and limp. His precious snowball: lying beaten, bloody, and lifeless. Looming over her with a distasteful look in his eye, was Ivy’s very own former mentor: Smokefoot.
A fiery rage flared in Ivy’s chest and his eyes darkened. All of a sudden nothing else existed to the anguished ginger tom. All he could feel was his burning hatred, and all he could see was a dead mentor.
With a wail akin to the roar of LionClan; Ivy launched himself at the gray ShadowClan tom and bowled him over onto the hot flat surface at the edge of Small Thunderpath. Ivy slashed his claws ruthlessly; never stopping to see what he was doing. Smokefoot never spoke a word, but his eyes said terror, surprise, and confusion.
Ivy’s old mentor wasn’t so lost that he stopped fighting, though. He raked his claws all over his former apprentice, splashing blood all over the odd path’s surface, but Ivy barely felt it. His wounds were a dull stinging sensation, drowned out by the intense blaze in his heart.
“I’ll kill you!” Ivy screeched, unaware that the battle was over, and all eyes were on him. He just kept tearing away, refusing to let Smokefoot escape from his grasp.
Eventually his claws met his old mentor’s throat, but he barely noticed the gray tom was dead. When he finally realized the limp old tom was no longer breathing, he merely stumbled away; feeling absolutely numb.
“Ivy…” a subdued voice spoke from behind him, overflowing with worry.
But Ivy ignored it, suddenly remembering Pixieflight’s condition. He rushed over to her unmoving body and knelt by her side. “Pixieflight! Pixieflight! Answer me!” he cried. No, no! He thought. I can’t lose her, too!
But his panic was interrupted by her eyes blinking open. “I-Ivy…?” she murmured weakly. The ginger tom pressed his muzzle into her bloody scruff, squeezing his eyes shut.
StarClan, please, have mercy! “Some cat, get Mothwing! Quick!” Ivy shouted, his desperation cracking his voice.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Wildpaw scrambled to her paws and sprinted off back to camp. The thought didn’t cross Ivy’s mind that the young apprentice shouldn’t be running anymore in her condition. All he could think about was making sure Pixieflight survived.
“Don’t close your eyes,” Ivy rasped as the bloody she-cat began to blink her eyes shut. “Please, stay with me, Snowball…” Ivy choked on his words and buried his face deeper in the white she-cat’s fur. It was all he could do to stop the bleeding until Mothwing came with cobwebs.
A little ways away, Pouncetail knelt by Minnowtail and helped her clean her many wounds, and Beechfur helped Rippletail stand. No cat said a word. They waited in a dread-filled silence. As Ivy stared sidelong at her, Pixieflight’s eyes clouded.
“Ivy?” the she-cat piped-up suddenly, her voice terrified and soft.
“Yes, what is it?” the ginger tom answered her anxiously. His heart skipped a beat as Pixieflight frowned, and his nose flooded with her fear scent.
“I- I can’t see you,” Pixieflight blinked; her eyes, although half-closed and dull, were filled with terror. “Ivy, where are you?” the she-cat’s voice raised slightly, but it was still significantly weakened.
Ivy put his paw over hers reassuringly. “I’m here, Pixieflight! I’m right here,” he replied, feeling awfully sick. She was dying. “Please don’t go…” His voice was barely a whisper.
Pixieflight stared right at the ginger tom, but her eyes saw nothing. “Ivy… am I going to StarClan?”
The white she-cat’s question hit him like the strike of a badger. He couldn’t answer her; he wouldn’t answer her, so he said nothing.
“Ivy? Are you there?” Pixieflight asked again.
“Yes, Pixieflight,” Ivy replied, choking on the emotion in his voice. “I’ll always be here.”
Wildpaw could barely breath. Her throat stung, her paws throbbed, her lungs ached, her sides hurt; everything hurt. The young apprentice knew she couldn’t go on like this. In reality, she should’ve stopped a long time ago.
The gray she-cat knew she wasn’t as fit as the others; in fact, she was grossly out of shape. Mothwing had told her not to overexert herself, lest the young she-cat push her incompetent body too far. But Wildpaw didn’t care.
The apprentice was done with all the special care. She knew not all of RiverClan was so accommodating. Many of them hated her, despised her, for her uselessness. Many more of them mocked her for it. Some of them secretly, and others boldly. And Wildpaw was tired of it.
She knew she was clumsy, and pathetic, and unfit. She knew she had no place in the clan, and she knew why. She was a kittypet.
‘A British Shorthair’ is the name her Twolegs had used. She was a whole different ‘breed’ than the rest of her clanmates. A breed apparently not built for clan life. Wildpaw thought bitterly. Pouncetail had found her just before he had become a warrior. She had run away from her Twoleg’s nest.
The ginger and white tom convinced his clanmates to let her join, and she had joined Flintpaw and Foggypaw to drink their mother’s milk. But Wildpaw was not their littermates, and barely their denmates. She was certainly no cat’s clanmate, except those who didn’t know that she was different. Pixieflight was one of them.
At the thought of her kind and dutiful mentor, Wildpaw’s mind went back to the battle field where she lay. Her mentor’s life ebbing away as the blood spilled from her deep wounds. Oh, please, Pixieflight, Wildpaw silently begged. Don’t join StarClan yet!
All of a sudden, the young shorthair’s nose was filled with a clanmate’s scent. “Willowshine!”
The young medicine cat burst forth in front of Wildpaw; her mouth stuffed with cobwebs. “Mothwing sent me ahead with these,” Willowshine explained, muffled by her load. “She’s preparing some herbs for the wounded. What happ-”
“Is she coming?” Wildpaw cut off the medicine cat, earnesty spilling from her eyes.
Willowshine shook her head. Wildpaw flicked her tail in apprehension, “Then you go take those to small Thunderpath, and hurry! Pixieflight’s wounded bad. I’ll get Mothwing.”
Willowshine hesitated a moment, clearly noticing Wildpaw’s condition, but thought better than to argue. The dark gray tabby she-cat nodded and bounded off to small Thunderpath.
Wildpaw tensed her muscles to do the same towards camp; her body screeching in protest. But the determined young apprentice ignored her aching frame’s plea, and took off for RiverClan’s camp.
By the time she reached the medicine den, her sides were heaving and her limbs were shaking. Wildpaw was hardly able speak a word, but she managed to call: “Mothwing! Pixieflight’s hurt, she needs help!”
Mothwing turned to the exhausted young apprentice abruptly, and without a word she grabbed a bunch of herbs and scampered briskly to the entrance of the den.
Wildpaw turned wearily to follow her, but Mothwing stopped her. “No, you’re staying here to rest. You’ve already overdone it today,” the senior medicine cat snapped.
But Wildpaw shook her head, unable to voice her protest. Mothwing stopped in her stride and stared the gray she-cat down. “You will listen to the orders of your medicine cat, young one,” she commanded, her voice low and unmoving.
“We don’t have time for this, Pixieflight needs your help now, and I’m going with you!” Wildpaw insisted impatiently. Mothwing glared fiercely at the rebellious young she-cat.
“You will rest,” the old medicine cat repeated firmly. “I won’t let you stay on your feet any longer, and the more you argue the more danger your mentor is in!”
“Fine!” Wildpaw flashed, sitting down with a thump. “Now go!” she yowled.
Mothwing picked up the herbs from the ground, and headed away with one last glare at the stubborn young apprentice. Wildpaw waited until the medicine cat disappeared into the distance and then got to her paws and followed her.
The gray she-cat heard Flintpaw call after her, but she had already decided she was not going to sit and wait. If it killed her inert body to stay with her mentor, then so be it.
***
“Who are you?” Pixieflight blinked in awe at her newfound surroundings.
All around her were the most beautiful green-leaved trees, and the most pleasant forest scents. It was a forest more majestic and breath-taking than she had ever witnessed before. And standing before her was a tiny white kit with ginger patches on his feet and mask.
“My name is Clovekit,” the young kit spoke, his blue eyes filling with a mix of emotions. “I was your brother.”
Pixieflight blinked again; this time is confusion. She opened her mouth hesitantly, unsure of herself. “My… brother? I had a littermate? Oh, yes… Back then…” the white she-cat reflected wistfully on her new-found old memories.
“Wait,” she said suddenly. “Am I in StarClan? Did I die!?” her voice increased in pitch as she spoke; devastation crushing her.
But the small kit didn’t answer her right away. His tail drooped in sadness, but his eyes held a twinkle of amusement. “No… not quite yet. But if you don’t wake up soon, you will,” he replied. The he added softly, “I wouldn’t mind so bad if you joined us…”
Pixieflight looked around hurriedly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to die yet! Where is Ivy? Where is the battle field? How do I get out of this place?” she questioned, her desperation worsening as she spoke.
But Clovekit still didn’t answer her. He looked to the ground sadly, flattening his ears. “I’ve waited so long for a sister… but you don’t want to be my sister yet. I can see that now.”
Pixieflight flinched away from the tiny kit’s unexpected words. She had barely known Clovekit existed until a few moments ago, but now he was flooding her heart with guilt.
“Clovekit, that isn’t exactly fair. You know this,” A voice spoke up gently from behind.
Pixieflight whirled around to face the new speaker. The RiverClan she-cat found herself staring into the eyes of a light brown she-cat. The new she-cat had familiar feautures, but she smelled of ShadowClan.
As their gazes locked, the playful glint in the she-cat’s emerald eyes uncannily reminded her of Ivy. “Greetings, Pixieflight. It is good to see you, but you should not be here. Not yet,” the snow-white she-cat said, her voice warm and kind. “Clovekit agrees, I assure you. And besides,” The she-cat’s eyes clouded suddenly. “My son needs you.”
Pixieflight’s blue eyes widened, and all at once the pieces came together. “You! You’re- you’re Tallpoppy! Ivy’s dea- um, mother…” the excited she-cat ended awkwardly.
Tallpoppy mrrowed in laughter, but then sighed as her eyes went sad again. “Yes, that is me. My son was devastated, and filled with hatred all these seasons because of my death.” Tallpoppy was barely containing her emotion. “But a few moons ago, all of that faded. Not completely, but a lot. His anger; his horrible loss, was nearly abandoned beneath a new wonderful feeling. That all started when he met you, and it has only been improving.”
Pixieflight blinked, flabbergasted. The warm, loving expression in Tallpoppy’s eyes set off thousands of butterflies in her belly, and brought back that irritating burning sensation. But it also made her feel warm inside.
But Tallpoppy’s eyes hardened once more, and she continued. “But now, all of that is lost. Ivy will never recover from this if you don’t wake up. I’m not supposed to say anything like this; ever, to a cat in your position. But I’m begging you. If you don’t survive...” Tallpoppy was nearly desperate.
But she regained her composure and met Pixieflight’s eyes anew. “Please, leave here. Your heart will show you the way.” And then, without a word, both her and Clovekit vanished; leaving Pixieflight alone with her confusion.
“Wait, come back! Tallpoppy! What did you mean!?” the bewildered she-cat cried.
Pixieflight repeated the brown she-cat’s words over and over in her head. Your heart will show you the way… The ShadowClan warrior’s heart raced and her chest went cold with panic. “How will it show me?” she shouted to the twinkling stars and towering trees. “What do I do!?”
There was no response from the empty forest. Pixieflight’s tail drooped in defeat. How could she get back to her clan if she didn’t know the way? She was trapped in here!
Wallowing in sadness, Pixieflight thought of all her clanmates that she would miss. Her beloved mentor Minnowtail, her adoptive mother Dawnflower, her dear friends Pouncetail and Rippletail, her gentle apprentice Wildpaw. And Ivy.
Suddenly, Pixieflight’s chest burned with a fiery determination. She couldn’t abandon her clan yet. She wasn’t ready to leave them, and they needed her.
Pixieflight lifted herself to her paws, and bounded forwards, her paws suddenly certain of her path. I’m coming, everyone! I’m coming Ivy!
“Her breathing is too shallow. If Mothwing doesn’t get here soon…” Pouncetail didn’t finish his statement.
The ginger and white tom glanced worriedly at the fallen she-cat and the despairing tom beside her. He silently prayed to StarClan and looked around at the other RiverClan warriors. Pixieflight was undoubtedly in the worst shape, but Rippletail wasn’t doing too well either. Minnowtail had a fresh batch of scars, but she would heal.
Pouncetail beat the ground with his paw in anger. If only he’d been there in time. The ginger and white tom had always been good friends with Pixieflight. Even while the rest of the clan judged her for appearing from the river, Pouncetail never had. The RiverClan warrior believed that you were a warrior if you were loyal to your clan, not if you shared it’s blood. And Pixieflight had proved herself a brave, loyal, and worthy warrior of RiverClan time and time again.
Now, she had done so again. The fuzzy white she-cat might just have given her life for the clan, and even though Pouncetail burned with a rage at the thought; he knew that even still, not everyone would accept her.
Suddenly, Pouncetail’s angry thoughts were interrupted by thumping paw-steps. “Where is she?” Willowshine’s weary voice rang out through the clearing.
Ivy raised his head with a snap. “Over here! She’s right here!” the ginger tom called desperately.
Willowshine crashed towards the bleeding white she-cat, her jaws stuffed with cobwebs. As the young medicine cat applied the sticky wrappings, she whispered encouragement into Pixieflight’s ear. Pouncetail, Ivy, and the others stared in anxious horror, waiting for the medicine cat’s verdict. Moments felt like moons, and the young she-cat’s eyes filled with deep frustration, concern, and focus.
Finally, Willowshine backed up and fell into a slump. The weary medicine cat closed her eyes and sighed. “She’s in the paws of StarClan now...”
There was a moment of shock, and no cat spoke. Ivy was the first to open his mouth. “What- what do you mean? Is she-” the ginger tom was unable to finish.
Willowshine glanced back at him, distress filling her gaze. “I’m sorry, I- I’m too late. She’s- she’s…” the young medicine cat trailed off, avoiding the other cats’ gazes.
“No!” Ivy wailed in despair. “She can’t be! Pixieflight!” The sorrowful ginger tom collapsed in anguish beside her, burying his face in her fluffy blood-stained pelt. He cried out again and again to the still, lifeless she-cat; but in vain.
“She’s gone,” Willowshine finally managed. Her words hit like a strike of thunder, tearing away any last glimmer of hope.
All cats were dead silent. The only sound that could be heard was the tormented yowling yowling of the crushed ginger tom. Pouncetail took a deep breath, trying to face this new reality. It weighed on the ginger and white tom’s back like a fallen oak: She was really gone. This brave, selfless, intelligent, friendly she-cat, would no longer be with them.
Pixieflight was an invaluable warrior and friend, and yet not every cat would remember her that way.
After several heartbeats, the ginger and white tom collected himself. With a shuddering breath, Pouncetail lifted himself to his feet and padded over to his fallen friend and her ginger companion.
“Ivy, she’s gone.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Let’s carry her back to-”
“No!” The ginger tom hissed, his fur bristling. He jumped to his paws and whirled on Pouncetail, his tail lashing furiously. “Don’t touch her!” he spat.
Pouncetail flinched and stepped away from the blazing tom. He felt Beechfur and Willowshine tense up near him, a threatening growl beginning in their throats.
“No, wait, stop-” Pouncetail started, not wanting a pointless fight to break out.
All of a sudden, a huge gasp interrupted the silence. Pixieflight’s crystal blue eyes flew open. She let out a tortuous mewl as all eyes widened; aghast.
“What!? How!?” Willowshine exclaimed, rushing over next to the injured she-cat.
Ivy turned around; his fur flattening, and stared into the revived she-cat’s eyes with a stunned, yet enormously relieved expression. “Pixieflight…” he whispered. She met his eyes for a moment, and something flashed in them; some unspoken message the two cats understood. And then she was gone again.
Pixieflight’s eyes drooped, and her consciousness faded from them. Ivy called out to her again as he fell by her side, but she wasn’t there anymore. But she was alive.
“Thank StarClan! They’ve sent her back to us!” Willowshine breathed, as if she didn’t quite believe it herself. “And as long as Mothwing gets here soon, she’ll stay.”
Ivy just nodded while the others crowded. A few moments later, Mothwing exploded into the clearing carrying a mouthful of herbs. Immediately the senior medicine cat went into action; applying herbs and cobwebs to the injured white she-cat’s wounds. Willowshine joined her and the two medicine cats went to work saving the RiverClan warrior’s life.
“Alright, stay with us you reckless she-cat…” Mothwing murmured under her breath.
Eventually, Pixieflight’s side began to rise at a steady pace. Still shallow, but steady. “She’ll live for now,” the senior medicine cat grumbled. “May StarClan be with her.”
“Thank goodness!” A voice gasped weakly from behind the crowd of cats.
Mothwing snapped her head up and turned to face the voice. It was Wildpaw. The young apprentice was barely staying on her feet, leaning onto a young rowan for support. Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps. Wildpaw’s eyelids fluttered, but she refused to collapse.
“Wildpaw, you fish-brain, I told you to rest!” Mothwing shouted, anger mixing with concern. “Pixieflight is fine, we’ve got her! How can you be so foolish!”
Despite herself, the young apprentice’s eyes gleamed definitely. “I will not sleep while Pixieflight is so badly injured! You know she could have died!” Wildpaw declared boldly.
Mothwing’s eyes flashed. “Oh, yes I do! But I also know your reckless behavior could cost you your own life! Don’t be fish-brained!”
In spite of the grievous circumstances, Pouncetail and Rippletail let out a chuckle as the medicine cat and apprentice bickered on. Wildpaw and Mothwing had always been close, given Wildpaw’s special needs. But the two of them argued constantly because the young gray she-cat resented everything the old golden she-cat said about her health.
Even after the events of the battle, and the horrible situation Pixieflight was in, Pouncetail felt the slightest weight lift off his shoulders as the two fiery she-cats went at it like usual. The ginger and white tom volunteered to go on ahead and inform Leopardstar about what happened as Willowshine, Mothwing, Ivy and Minnowtail all helped carry the limp white she-cat back to camp. Pouncetail could still hear the stubborn apprentice and exasperated medicine cat yapping and growling as he padded off toward home.
***
When the RiverClan cats finally reached the camp, everyone was in disarray. Warriors, queens, kits, and apprentices swarmed the returning cats and swamped them with questions; concern filling their eyes.
Both Mothwing and Willowshine couldn’t keep up with the barrage and were quickly overwhelmed. “Silence! Let us to the medicine den! We have injured warriors to care for,” Mothwing spat impatiently.
Instantly, the crowd parted for the injured and the medicine cats, but not for a moment were they silent. Wildpaw attempted to escape the elder medicine cat’s care, but the young she-cat was denied.
“Don’t you think I forgot about you! Get in here and rest those limbs, you’ve worked much too hard today,” Mothwing ordered firmly.
Wildpaw winced as the old golden she-cat spoke; she knew what was next. “Too hard!” a seething voice sneered from behind. Wildpaw shut her eyes in dismay. There it is…
“As if this pitiful kittypet has done a decent load of work in her life! If she was any kind of useful cat, nobody would have gotten hurt!” the scorning voice of Foggypaw continued.
Flintpaw’s brother had resented Wildpaw since the moment they met. He hated kittypets with an uncompromising passion, and in his disgust at being forced to nurse with her, Foggypaw had made it his personal mission to make sure no cat forgot her incompetence.
Flintpaw had always defended Wildpaw against his brother, and she was eternally grateful, but she was also sorry for the tension she’d caused between them. He spoke up now; “Leave her alone, Foggypaw! Wildpaw did all she could!” the striped gray tom hissed.
Foggypaw whirled on his brother. “Apparently that’s just not enough! If Wildpaw wasn’t a fish-brained kittypet, and actually a decent warrior; she could have fought instead of abandoning her own mentor to deliver a message!”
Flintpaw yowled and braced himself to pounce. The two brothers lashed their tails and their eyes burned into each other’s skulls.
“Enough!” Mothwing’s voice rang out brimming with rage. “You’re the fish-brain!” the old medicine cat hissed at the dappled gray apprentice. “Wildpaw was right to fetch the patrol, it was an invasion of RiverClan territory and Russetfur was there! And I can assure you she went of her own mentor’s accord, so you keep your mouth shut!” she snapped, turning around to her den and signaling for Wildpaw to follow.
Before the gray she-cat turned to obey, she quickly brushed her muzzle against Flintpaw’s scruff to gesture her appreciation. Wildpaw looked into the striped tom’s pale blue eyes; worried she would see irritation there, but instead she found only affection.
“Don’t worry,” the gray tom whispered warmly. “He’s not my brother if he can’t see your worth.”
Wildpaw’s heart was filled to the brim, and she turned away towards the medicine den. As she neared, the prospect of sleep overwhelmed her mind, and the she-cat staggered in her step, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.
Suddenly, the young apprentice felt every aching muscle in her body as she dragged herself to the medicine den, and collapsed on a nest to sleep.
“Has she improved much?” Minnowtail asked the dreary old medicine cat; feeling quite down herself.
Next to the gray and white she-cat, Dawnflower meowed anxiously, “Or at all!?”
Minnowtail sighed, and she heard Mothwing do the same. It had been a half moon since the attack at small Thunderpath, and three sunrises since the last Gathering.
Minnowtail closed her eyes in dismay at the thought. That was quite the affair. They had only narrowly escaped full blown war; right under the full moon.
Leopardstar had been terribly upset, and Blackstar had overstepped his boundaries while using the truce as a shield. Soon enough, ThunderClan and WindClan had joined in, and the three clans would’ve torn ShadowClan to shreds if StarClan hadn’t blocked out the moon.
Minnowtail shook her head at the thought. It had been too close a call. And the tension with ShadowClan hadn’t faded very much. Every clan was on edge, and RiverClan still had a severely injured warrior to worry about.
After a few heartbeats, Mothwing looked up and replied, “She’s still alive, StarClan with her. But there isn’t anything more I can do. I’m sorry, but it’s up to StarClan now,” the golden medicine cat answered heavily.
Dawnflower sat down and put her head in her paws. “Oh, Pixieflight… my poor kit…” she murmured despairingly.
A few tail-lengths away, a gray and black tabby tom sat; his back turned away from them, but his head turned to look over his shoulder. It was Darkcloud, one of Dawnflower’s other kits and Minnowtail’s younger brother. He stared at his mother, a mix of concern and distaste in his gaze.
Even though the gray tabby tom looked away a second later, Mothwing didn’t let his scornful glance go unnoticed. “Hey! You there!” She yowled. “Your mother is upset because your sister is hurt. Want to be a good son instead of throwing a glare?” The golden she-cat’s words were seething, and Minnowtail flinched in surprise.
The gray and white she-cat flinched equally when Darkcloud spud around on his unsheathed paws and growled. “Don’t tell me what to do you old fool!” Mothwing’s fur bristled and she growled warningly, but the smokey gray cat hissed and continued. “And that fluffy kittypet isn’t my sister! She’s not even a clan cat!” he spat.
Now it was Minnowtail’s turn to yowl. Her impudent young brother’s words flared up seasons of defensive emotions and it was all she could do not to hurl herself at the overgrown kit.
“Enough, Darkcloud! Don’t speak so harshly about your denmate,” Dawnflower reprimanded wearily, but sternly. “And don’t hurl insults at your medicine cat!” she added.
Darkcloud mumbled to himself, and turning around he said, “I’m not a kit anymore, Dawnflower. You can’t control me.”
Mothwing sent him running with a yowl and a leap, and the he was gone into the warriors den. “I say, that one sets me off like no other cat…” the medicine cat grumbled bitterly.
Dawnflower sighed, resting her head on her paws again. “He’s not as cold-hearted as he seems. He’s just proud, and doesn’t communicate well. Plus he has that Stormypelt’s influence. He really does love Pixieflight as a sister… They were really close denmates…” Dawnflower’s eyes flooded with sorrow.
Mothwing made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “They were. Until he found out where she came from. They’ve hardly shared tongues since then. Not without spitting at each other. And that Emberheart too, she kept her distance from both of them,” the old medicine cat observed bitterly.
Minnowtail listened quietly to the two she-cats sharing tongues about Pixieflight's 'littermates'. She felt sorry for Dawnflower, but it was true their family didn’t get along. The others had never really accepted Pixieflight.
But Minnowtail grew thoughtful when Mothwing mentioned Emberheart. The black she-cat had been quiet ever since an incident in her apprenticeship, and preferred being alone.
But Minnowtail had noticed something the day that Pixieflight had gotten hurt. It was the same thing she had seen the day Pixieflight had fallen in the river during her apprenticeship: fear. The wide open terror for another cat that could only be fueled by love.
Minnowtail’s timid younger sister hardly spoke to her siblings, but there was no doubt in Minnowtail’s mind that she loved them.
Minnowtail was awoken from her day-dreaming when Willowshine emerged from the medicine den. Mothwing turned to greet her. “Oh, there you are. Is he still in there?” the old medicine cat inquired, somewhat hesitantly.
Willowshine nodded sadly. “He won’t leave her.”
Minnowtail’s tail drooped as she realized who they were talking about.
Ivy had stayed by Pixieflight’s side since the medicine cats laid her to rest, and he refused to leave for any reason. The ginger tom wouldn’t eat unless some cat brought him food, and he never returned to his den, even to sleep.
“The poor thing…” Minnowtail mumbled, remembering how she had teased Pixieflight about her romancing just a little while before the attack. “He must really love her,” she said.
“Love or not, he’s becoming a real nuisance. Takes up space and wakes us up with his yowling in his sleep!” Mothwing grumbled.
Even though the medicine cat’s words were harsh, Minnowtail knew she was really concerned for Ivy. He had hardly had a full night of sleep because of his nightmares, and he was growing weak and thin from barely eating or exercising. There were growing murmurs about how he was an inconvenience to the clan, and that Leopardstar shouldn’t allow him to stay.
Minnowtail was beginning to get concerned for the ginger tom aswell. If he didn’t start hunting for himself soon, Leopardstar might just have to follow through on that.
***
Ivy nestled his muzzle further into the sleeping she-cat’s thick, soft, white fur. He could hear her shallow, unsteady breathing, and feel her side rise and shudder. Concern flowed through the ginger tom, but he knew there was nothing he could do but wait and hope.
And pray. Oh, StarClan save her, please! Ivy squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think of what he would do if they didn’t. She had to live; Ivy couldn’t take it if she died.
“Oh, Snowball…” he murmured, thinking of how she was one of the only cats who had accepted him in RiverClan. About how much he had missed her even though he had barely known her before. He thought about the endless sunsets and meal-times they had spent together over the moons, sharing tongues and laughing with each other.
Ivy’s vision blurred as he thought of the day all that was torn from him. When he had seen her body there; when he had thought that she was gone…
“Pixieflight!” the desperate ginger tom wailed. “Please, come back to me!”
A few heartbeats later, Ivy heard pawsteps padding up from behind him. He recognized the scent as Mothwing, and then scented Willowshine bound up to follow her.
Ivy sighed, preparing for another argument. But Mothwing didn’t stop, and instead beckoned Willowshine to follow her to the other side of the den. The two medicine cats discussed something in low voices; clearly not wanting Ivy to hear.
Curious, the ginger tom perked his ears to eavesdrop. He could only hear pieces, but Mothwing was whispering, “Try applying... again... ...miracle she’s... this long,”
Ivy narrowed his eyes, not sure whether to be worried, angry, or something else. But they were definitely talking about Pixieflight, and it didn’t sound to good.
Worms crawled in Ivy’s belly as he pondered the old medicine cat’s words.
Ivy perked up again when Willowshine whispered a little clearer, “StarClan has been with her until now, we shouldn’t waste our time worrying they won’t stay.” Ivy let out a small sigh of relief at the young she-cat’s comforting words, despite Mothwing's grim and eerie silence.
But Willowshine went on. “The problem which we can control might be needing our attention, though,” the dark gray tabby hinted.
Ivy flicked his ear in annoyance, immediately realizing what the younger medicine cat was talking about. They’re talking about me. The controllable problem. Great. Ivy thought sarcastically, letting out a grunt. If they think they can make me leave her side…
Mothwing’s voice cut of the ginger tom’s thoughts. The golden she-cat spoke with sudden volume, “Yes, Willowshine. Very true indeed. Excuse us, please,” she added to the dark gray she-cat, and Willowshine nodded and exited the den.
Mothwing stepped closer to the two cats lying on the medicine den floor, and sat down, clearing her throat. Ivy grunted again, refusing eye-contact.
Still turned away, Ivy said, “I won’t leave her, you know. You can’t make me.”
To Ivy’s surprise, Mothwing snorted and continued in a mocking tone, “Oh can’t I? Hm? Well maybe no, I can’t. But Leopardstar can. So can many of your so-called clanmates who want to kick you out for being a burden,” the snarky golden she-cat explained.
Ivy sat up in shock, his eyes wide with fear. “Do you really mean that? They’ll kick me out?” he exclaimed at the medicine cat in horror.
Mothwing sighed and shook her head. “I’m afraid I do. But imagine their position! You; a rogue from ShadowClan, joined RiverClan and then stopped hunting for the clan, patrolling, and all else, and on top of that still eat the food that your clan has caught. Even though you are perfectly capable and wouldn’t be a part of RiverClan if Leopardstar hadn’t allowed you,” the medicine cat finished.
Ivy looked down at his paws in shame. “I know… You’re right…” he murmured. The ginger tom scratched the dirt with his claws uncomfortably. “But… she needs me,” Ivy mewed, although he knew he had lost the argument. He just wished it wasn’t so. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her, or even worse; if she left, and while he was gone…
Ivy was startled from his thoughts when he felt Mothwing’s tail tip on his shoulder. The uncertain tom looked up into the medicine cat’s amber eyes. They were filled with warmth and compassion. “Don’t fret, silly cat. She’ll still be here when you get back. I promise you,” she assured him.
Ivy knew there was no way the golden she-cat could promise such a thing, but her words gave him comfort nonetheless. He nodded thankfully, and then with a goodbye nuzzle to Pixieflight, he turned around and left the medicine den.
The sky was a bright and dazzling blue, and the pure white, puffy clouds reminded the she-cat of her own fluffy pelt. The soft earth was laden with fresh green grass that felt lovely against her weary pads.
As Pixieflight ran and ran her exhaustion and pain began to fade and she felt a new warmth, a new lightness in her limbs. Her bones no longer ached, and her neck wasn’t so stiff anymore. The racing white she-cat loved this new feeling that surged inside of her, but for some reason, she couldn’t remember where the old pain had come from.
Why had her body ached so? Why had she been so dreadfully tired? And why did she not recognise this beautiful lush valley that she tread upon? What was that tingling feeling gnawing at the edge of her mind? There seemed to be something very important she was forgetting…
“Pixieflight!” A voice screeched suddenly from all around her.
Tallpoppy! The name immediately came to mind and the fuzzy she-cat stopped in her tracks and whirled around, searching for the source of the oddly familiar voice. But there was no cat near her, nor anywhere she could see.
It felt odd to the troubled she-cat that in her memory, the voice had seemingly come from everywhere at once. And even odder still that at the exact moment she had heard the voice calling her, the scene before Pixieflight’s eyes had changed dramatically. The dazzling colours around her had in a flash faded to dull grays. For a single heartbeat, Pixieflight had seen the ceiling of a familiar den.
But where do I remember it from? Pixieflight shook her head, annoyed at how much it hurt to think. She clawed the luscious earth in frustration, trying to recall… anything! Where am I!? How did I get here!? What is going on!? The poor she-cat’s brain shrieked, unable to piece together a single solid memory.
All of a sudden, the bright day turned to night, and the sky filled with shimmering stars. Pixieflight’s heart pounded as she realized where she was. I’ve died… But how? And why does it feel so wrong? Like I shouldn’t be here… A memory flooded her mind of a voice saying those exact words: “You shouldn’t be here…”
Panic struck Pixieflight as she saw the stars begin to change. Somehow, she knew she had to get out of here. I can’t die! The thought soared in her mind as she turned around and fled from the falling stars. This is not where I belong!
That was the last thought on the she-cat’s kind as the world suddenly went dark.
***
“Do you want to hunt with us?” Wildpaw heard Pouncetail offer the dejected ginger tom.
Ivy had surprised everyone last sunrise by coming out of the medicine den and hunting on his own. He had brought back a small mouse and a squirrel. He had eaten the mouse and returned to the medicine den with Pixieflight.
This sunrise he came out again, and now accepted Pouncetail’s offer to hunt with him Flintpaw and Wildpaw. Since Pixieflight was injured, Pouncetail had taken over mentoring Wildpaw, and the ginger and white tom did an excellent job even while having his own apprentice to worry about. Wildpaw was glad to spend time with him and Flintpaw, but the young apprentice was worried she was holding them back.
As the four cats travelled towards the streambed, Wildpaw kept glancing back at Ivy. The once witty and cheery tom was dreadfully silent, and his tail dragged behind him as he walked. Wildpaw felt a pang of sadness for him, and even more wished that Pixieflight would recover soon so everyone could go back to normal.
Wildpaw felt guilty for not visiting Pixieflight that much, but she wanted to let Ivy have time alone, and she was awfully busy with training. Even though Pouncetail had two apprentices to worry about, he was not giving the young cats any slack.
Or at least, no more than he has to... Wildpaw thought grimly, recalling painfully the events of their last hunting patrol.
The clumsy gray she-cat had thought she had finally mastered her fishing stance that Pouncetail had been teaching her. She had held her position properly as she waited, but all was lost when she sighted the silver flash of a fish.
In her excitement, she had stumbled awkwardly; her one paw extended, she had nearly caught onto the dashing silver fish’s tail.
But Wildpaw had just barely missed, and instead stumbled for a heartbeat before falling face first into the frigid water. Never in her life had Wildpaw felt so stupid and embarrassed. Pouncetail and Flintpaw had been kind and graceful, but the young apprentice would never live it down.
“Mouse!” Flintpaw hissed, instantly dropping to a crouch. They had not yet arrived at the stream.
Wildpaw envied her denmates sharp senses and natural hunting ability, especially as she crouched next to him, trying as hard as she could to copy the striped tom’s perfect stance.
“It’s yours if you can get it, Flintpaw,” Pouncetail challenged his apprentice.
Flintpaw needed no second prompting. Wildpaw felt the muscular tom’s body bunch up, and then felt the wind as he lept. Flintpaw soared in the air for half a heartbeat before landing perfectly on top of his prey, finishing it off with a killing bite.
As the star apprentice returned with his prey in his jaws, Pouncetail praised him. “Good work, you might just become the finest hunter in RiverClan!” he meowed, clearly impressed.
Wildpaw purred and brushed his flank with her muzzle. He looked back at her, his brilliant green eyes shining with pride. Wildpaw wished she could disown the pang of jealousy that hit her then. Why does he get to be so perfect? Why can’t that be me?
The gray shorthair shook herself, suddenly remembering Ivy. The ginger tom had been silent since their walk had began. Wildpaw turned to speak to him, and possibly comfort him about Pixieflight, but found that the ex-rogue tom was no longer behind them.
“Ivy?” she blurted, looking around for any sign of the dismal tom’s ginger fur.
Pouncetail and Flintpaw joined in, but no cat knew where he had gone. “Let’s keep going,” Pouncetail said at last. “He’s probably gone to hunt for himself. I bet he doesn’t prefer fishing,” the ginger and white tom explained with a slightly irritated sigh. As he turned around to continue he added, “Bury the mouse here. We’ll get it later.”
And with that, they continued on their way.
***
Ivy tensed himself, hoping that the scraggly undergrowth in RiverClan’s territory was enough to conceal him from his prey. The ginger tom was having a some trouble adjusting from his past hunting experience, but as an ex-rogue he was used to adjustment.
Ivy knew he should have stayed with the others. They were the only cats to be kind to him in RiverClan besides Pixieflight, and he had accepted their offer.
But Ivy wasn’t a fish kind of cat.
He had yet to catch a single prey from the river, and wasn’t particularly planning on it. If it had been any other situation, the ginger tom would have been willing to learn, but as it was, Ivy only wanted to hunt quickly so he could get back to Pixieflight.
The distracted tom’s attention returned to his hunt as the pigeon he was stalking hoped closer to Ivy’s hiding place. The pale, plump bird pecked at the ground nonchalantly, assuring Ivy that his cover was indeed sufficient. For a few prolonged heartbeats there was a stiff silence. Then, Ivy readjusted his stance, and leaped.
The dispirited tom wrestled the bird for a couple of heartbeats, temporarily blinded by its fluttering wings. With an impatient burst of energy, Ivy raked his claws against the over-sized prey’s wing; pinning it to the ground, and then killed it off with a ferocious bite to the neck.
The panting tom felt the pigeon fall limp in his jaws, and dropped it to the ground in contempt. He was not in the mood for this.
Ivy knew full well that he had to hunt for the clan; Mothwing had been very convincing. But the only thing on the ginger tom’s mind was Pixieflight, and all he wanted to do was get over with hunting so he could return to the white she-cat’s side.
Ivy breathed a heavy sigh, staring down at his fresh-kill. Technically, I’ve finished already… The tempting thought came to mind. He could bring this and say it was all he could find, but he knew that wouldn’t work. And besides, he had a little more honour than that.
With another begrudging sigh, Ivy heaved himself to his paws, and after burying his kill, he padded off to continue hunting.
Please wait for me Pixieflight, Ivy prayed silently. I’ll come back soon.
“Go to sleep, little one,” Dawnflower’s voice flooded Pixieflight’s sleepy mind as she started to blink her eyes open.
Towering before the white she-cat was the large, glossy, pale gray pelt of her mother. The fluffy bundle opened her mouth to speak, but it only came out as a tiny mewl.
“There, there, don’t fret,” Dawnflower’s soothing purr felt comforting to the white kit. “I’m right here, I’m right here…”
The puny kit snuggled up against her mother and her two littermates, and then, wrapped in their tender warmth, she fell asleep.
When she awoke again, she felt bigger and stronger, and when she opened her mouth words came out. “Mother, are you there?” she called, lifting her tired head.
Dawnflower turned around and walked up next to her. “Of course I am, sleepy-head. Your brother and sister and I all got up before you,” she replied playfully.
“Oh,” the fuzzy kit responded, still half asleep.
“Oh, and I have exciting news!” Dawnflower added, turning towards the nursery entrance where her other son and daughter were peeking out of. “Kits, come over here, please,” she called to them.
The smokey dark tom and black she-cat turned around and wobbled over to their mother obediently. The she-cat sat a little ways away from the white she-cat, but the tom waddled in between them, brushing the fluffy kit’s flank affectionately.
Dawnflower gathered her kits around with a sweep of her tail and looked lovingly into their eyes. “I’m giving you your names now,” she purred.
The kits let out squeaks of joy, just as Rippletail and Minnowpaw walked into the nursery.
“So it is today?” Minnowpaw clarified, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
Dawnflower nodded to her older daughter and turned her attention back to her younger kits. She gestured to the black she-cat. “Your name shall be Emberkit,” the pale gray queen announced.
Emberkit gasped and straightened herself at the words. Though she said nothing, her eyes gleamed with wonder. Minnowpaw meowed approvingly and Rippletail nodded. Next, Dawnflower laid her tail tip on the tom. “You will be Darkkit,” she stated, giving his small head a lick. Darkkit mewed excitedly, giving a short leap.
Finally, Dawnflower faced the white she-cat. “And you,” she meowed lovingly, running her tail down the tiny kit’s back. “Will be Fluffkit.”
The white kit blinked. For a few heartbeats, all was silent. She stared blankly at her mother, uncomprehending. Then, slowly but surely, she shook her head.
“No,” the fluffy white kit mewed. “I’m Pixiekit.”
The scene before Pixieflight disappeared with a start, and she suddenly realized she had been reliving a memory from her kit-hood. But her awakening was nothing of the sort.
Pixieflight found herself in the midst of never-ending darkness, unable to see her own paws in front of her. And within the darkness, all she could feel was an awful, aching pain.
It attacked her suddenly and coursed through her body, searing in the white she-cat’s neck. She couldn’t escape it; it was dreadful. Pain; unending pain, tormenting pain, all over her weak, frail, exhausted body. Pixieflight felt that she could no longer go on.
Was this what she had wanted? Why had she ever left that glorious forest? Some cat, end this suffering! Her mind cried out desperately. She couldn’t bear the agony any longer.
Please, make it stop!
***
“Willowshine, I need more poppy seeds! They’ve worn off and she’s twitching in her sleep!” Mothwing’s order snapped the younger medicine cat out of her daze, and she sprinted away to follow her mentor’s wishes.
But as Willowshine searched their storage, the dark gray tabby she-cat froze suddenly. We’ve run out of poppy seeds! In a rush of panic, Willowshine whirled to face the senior medicine cat and squealed, “We don’t have any!”
Shock and concern filled the golden she-cat’s amber eyes and she shook her head in dismay. “Oh, stars! Go get some more! Pixieflight’s in pain, and she’ll undress her wound if she keeps wriggling like this…” Mothwing didn’t continue, but Willowshine knew the rest of what the old medicine cat was thinking.
As the younger medicine cat turned and dashed out to retrieve the seeds, the importance of her mission pounded in her brain. If we don’t ease Pixieflight’s suffering soon, the pain may kill her!
As the dark gray she-cat’s paws drummed the earth, the dirt felt coarse and hard against her paw-pads. She sniffed the air, and found it was tinged with frost. Panic burst in the young she-cat’s chest, and she picked up her pace. Oh, StarClan, please let there still be poppy flowers! Willowshine silently prayed.
The young medicine cat came to a stop in the meadow near the stream, and searched around for poppy seed flowers. As the dark gray she-cat was scouring the meadow, she vaguely noticed Pouncetail and his two apprentices pad up behind her.
“Poppy seeds… poppy seeds…” Willowshine mumbled to herself.
Pouncetail cocked his head quizzically. “What’s the matter, Willowshine? ...Looking for poppy seed?” the ginger and white tom asked.
“For Pixieflight,” Willowshine answered distractedly. The she perked up suddenly and turned to the three cats. “Come, help me look! Poppy seeds are found in a bright red flower,” she instructed urgently, and then turned back to her search.
They agreed and began looking around the meadow. Wildpaw called to Willowshine as she looked. “Is Pixieflight okay?” Her distress was evident in her mew.
Willowshine wished she could comfort the poor apprentice. “She needs poppy seeds,” was all the young medicine cat replied.
“I found one!” Flintpaw yowled from across the meadow. Willowshine’s head shot up and she bounded over to the younger gray tom in three strides.
When she arrived, the apprentice gestured towards a shriveled red mass of petals, already turned mostly gray from rot and frost. “Is it any good?” Flintpaw asked reproachfully.
Disappointment filled the dark gray tabby, but she forced herself to be hopeful. She dug her muzzle into the dead flower in search of any good seeds. The smell of rot mixed with the smell of poppy seeds as Willowshine proceeded to rip apart the pale, limp petals. With the edge petals came loads of dry seeds, shriveled and useless.
As she tore off a few of the petals in the inner rim, a thrill of excitement tore through Willowshine as a bunch of healthy seeds rolled onto a discarded petal. Most of the seeds were too small and wrinkled, but there were enough others that were good enough.
Delicately and without a word, the young medicine cat picked up the good seeds in her jaws, and turned around to head back to camp.
Willowshine heard Pouncetail’s meow behind her. “Wildpaw, you can go with Willowshine, we’ll see if we can find anymore poppy seeds.” The yellow she-cat was grateful for Pouncetail’s sense while she had been to distracted to tell the other cats to do so herself.
The apprentice gray she-cat surprised Willowshine by catching up in just a few strides. The young she-cat’s training must be doing her good. Willowshine thought. Maybe the clumsy, pudgy apprentice would make a good warrior after all.
“Pixieflight will be okay now, won’t she?” Wildpaw’s sudden question caught Willowshine off-guard.
Unable to reassure her, the junior medicine cat said nothing; not daring to meet the apprentice’s gaze, but instead staring straight ahead in the silence. Wildpaw did not reply either.
When they reached the medicine den, Ivy was waiting for them. “Willowshine!” the distraught tom exclaimed. “Hurry, she’s suffering!”
Mothwing looked up from her work, and wordlessly snatched the poppy seeds from where Willowshine had dropped them on the floor and kneeling by Pixieflight. The senior medicine cat didn’t waste time making a poultice, but instead crushed them in her jaws and slipped them into the writhing she-cat’s mouth.
“There, there,” Mothwing soothed. “Swallow it up…”
Willowshine stood frozen, waiting for Pixieflight’s agony to end. Wildpaw came up behind him as Ivy shifted apprehensively on his paws, pressing his muzzle into the white she-cat’s flank as her jerky movements ceased.
Finally, her breathing steadied, and the she-cat slept soundly again.
“I’m not going,” Ivy declared, way too exhausted to deal with the short-tempered old medicine cat.
Mothwing glowered at him, her hackles suddenly raised. “That is not your choice to make,” she growled. “Do I have to remind you that as a warrior of RiverClan, you have no choice but to obey your leader?” she added.
Ivy noted that Mothwing wasn’t in the mood for him either. He also noted that the wise golden she-cat was once again right, and he was getting quite annoyed with that.
The ginger tom sighed, glancing to his side at Pixieflight. “You’ll keep her alive, won’t you?” he asked, his tone defeated. “Until I get back?”
Ivy sensed the old medicine cat relax, and watched her gaze soften towards him. “You know I’ll do all I can,” she replied gently.
Ivy sighed again. “Why does Leopardstar want me again?” he asked, certain that Mothwing would not have an answer for him.
He was right. “I have no clue. She might not be in her right mind,” Mothwing grumbled.
Ivy smirked at the golden she-cat. “As a warrior of RiverClan, shouldn’t you respect your leader?” he asked in mock innocence.
Mothwing shot him a playful glare. “I am no warrior,” she replied.
Later, Ivy stood among a group of RiverClan cats before Leopardstar, as she prepared to go on to the Gathering. Ivy flicked his ear in surprise as he noticed Wildpaw was also attending with Foggypaw and Flintpaw.
Pouncetail had told him Wildpaw used to be a kittypet, and the ginger tom had heard from Pixieflight that former kittypet cats like herself didn’t go to Gatherings unless there was some special reason.
Maybe Leopardstar was softening towards them because of Pixieflight’s injury. Ivy shook off the thought and focused on following Leopardstar’s signal to follow. Among Ivy, Pouncetail, Minnowtail, Beechfur, Mosspelt, Blackclaw, Mistyfoot and Willowshine were also attending the Gathering. Mothwing was staying behind to care for Pixieflight.
As the thought of the fuzzy white she-cat entered his mind again, his heart ached for her company. The ginger tom hated to leave her, and he longed to her her sweet voice again. And to see her pretty blue eyes. As the RiverClan cats left the camp, Ivy shot one last glance at the medicine den, sending a prayer to StarClan to keep her safe.
Pouncetail brushed up against Ivy’s flank comfortingly. “She’ll be alright, Ivy,” The ginger and white tom assured him. “Think about the Gathering. All the cats you’ll see!”
Ivy’s eyes widened. He wished Pouncetail hadn’t mentioned that. The ginger tom realized he was going to see his old clan again, and this time he couldn’t tear out their throats. And they can’t tear out yours. Ivy remembered Smokefoot, and he realized they wouldn’t be happy to see him either.
But Blackstar and Russetfur will be there… Ivy’s eyes darkened as he thought of meeting those two again. Briefly the tom worried he wouldn’t be able to keep the truce. But he wasn’t that dumb. Even if he might be tempted, Ivy wouldn’t be mouse-brained enough to challenge them. Not at the Gathering anyway...
“We’re here,” Pouncetail murmured, nudging Ivy out of his thoughts.
The ginger tom stiffened as the scents of WindClan, ThunderClan, and ShadowClan filled his nose. Ivy recognized Blackstar’s scent immediately, followed by Russetfur, and his fur bristled in rage. It flattened; however, when he smelled a cat he had not expected to find with them.
As the RiverClan cats entered the clearing, Ivy did his best to hide himself from his former clan, but unfortunately their noses were as good as his.
“Ivypaw?” the sweet voice of the ShadowClan she-cat called uncertainly behind the ginger tom. Ivy froze, and then turned around slowly to face Tawnypelt. Of all the cats in his former clan, she had been the kindest to him other than Tallpoppy. She alone had objected to Ivy’s banishment, and had suffered greatly for it.
“I… go by Ivy now,” he corrected Tawnypelt gently.
The tortoiseshell shook her fur. “You’ll always be Ivypaw to me. You would have some great warrior name now, though,” she replied somewhat bitterly.
Ivy looked down at his paws. “You shouldn’t be talking to me,” he mumbled, a mix of emotions washing over his pelt.
Tawnypelt narrowed her eyes at the dejected ginger tom. “What? Why not? It’s a Gathering, I can talk to whom I like,” she snorted.
Ivy looked up at her, a pleading look in his emerald eyes. “You can’t! Blackstar thinks of me as a traitor,” the words burned in Ivy’s throat, but he continued. He didn’t want Tawnypelt punished because of him again. “And I- I killed Smokefoot,” he stammered.
The tortoiseshell she-cat paused a moment, a look of surprise crossing her face. But then it faded and she faced Ivy levely. “Why did you do that?” her calm tone caught Ivy off guard. The ginger tom fumbled and struggled to form words.
“Uh, I- he… He hurt my friend,” Ivy managed, still shocked that the ShadowClan she-cat was not angry.
Tawnypelt nodded distractedly, her eyes scanning the clearing. “Right,” she mewed. “The uh… she-cat right? The one Leopardstar was angry about?”
Ivy stared at her in surprise. “Leopardstar was angry?” he asked, wondering why the RiverClan leader cared so much about her half-clan cats. He told himself it was reasonable for Leopardstar to be upset about an attack like that, and a severely injured warrior, but the business with him and Wildpaw wouldn’t leave his mind. Perhaps Mistyfoot had something to do with it…
“Well, of course she was angry! Weren’t you?” Tawnypelt snapped the ginger tom out of his daze. But before Ivy could reply, he heard a yowl from the Great Oak, and realized with a flood of disappointment that the Gathering had commenced.
He said a short goodbye to Tawnypelt, and then headed back to RiverClan’s group. Before he made it, however, he caught a look from Blackstar from on top of one of the great branches. Ivy had expected to see open malice, or amusement, but instead he found something he didn’t recognize.
Ivy’s entire body stiffened as he sensed Russetfur pass. Her strong ShadowClan scent filled his nose as her green gaze seethed out hatred. After the ShadowClan deputy passed Ivy let out a shudder. There was the greeting the ginger tom had been expecting.
Ivy sat next to Pouncetail, and noticed Wildpaw sitting next to Flintpaw, her ears down and tail limp. Foggypaw pranced away from a group of ThunderClan and WindClan apprentices, his face smug. He sneered at Wildpaw as he sat at the opposite end of the group from her and his brother.
Ivy bristled angrily. That stuck-up apprentice wouldn’t leave Pixieflight’s apprentice alone. He was glad that the frog-brain’s brother was looking out for her, but Ivy wished he could claw Foggypaw’s ear for his nonsense.
Wildpaw was staring wistfully towards the ThunderClan and WindClan groups, her gaze full of sorrow. Ivy figured Foggypaw had told them about her kittypet past, and probably threw in a bunch of stories of how hard the apprentice was struggling in her training. Ivy dug his claws into the ground as Onestar began sharing his news.
Flintpaw wrapped his tail around the depressed young she-cat, but her ears remained down. As he watched Foggypaw sitting so gleefully, Ivy decided he would have a personal chat with the haughty load of fox-dung after the Gathering.
Onestar stepped down, and then Leopardstar came up to share her news. A look flashed in his leader’s eyes, and Ivy knew she was going to mention Pixieflight.
“Our injured warrior has yet to recover from the detestable attack by the ShadowClan patrol!” Leopardstar yowled, shooting a hard glare at Blackstar.
Ivy’s eyes widened in shock. The RiverClan leader would be so quick and bold to antagonize Blackstar about his attack? Is she trying to start a war?
The spotted she-cat continued, sweeping her gaze over all the gathered cats. “And while that is the case, the rest of RiverClan’s warriors are strong and fit. Twice as ready for any who wish to oppose us!” Yowls of surprise and anger rose up from all the clans.
Ivy flattened his ears, looking around at the other hissing and spitting clan cats cautiously. Their eyes blazed with indignation. Why was Leopardstar being so bluntly hostile? The other clans hadn’t done anything to harm RiverClan!
Just as Ivy feared a fight would break out, Firestar stepped up beside the RiverClan leader. “Leopardstar,” he meowed. “We understand that ShadowClan has crossed their boundaries and injured your warriors, but the rest of our clans have done nothing to deserve your hostility,” Firestar reasoned with the raging she-cat.
Leopardstar nodded to him, her eyes still burning with fury. She whipped around to face Blackstar. “Firestar speaks the truth, but I will say this! If my warrior dies, Blackstar, ShadowClan will face RiverClan’s wrath!” she seethed.
Roars of outrage came from ShadowClan, while RiverClan was a mix of shocked mewls and battle cries. Blackstar leaped up to face Leopardstar, his eyes dancing with fire. “You seem to forget, Leopardstar, ShadowClan lost a warrior in that skirmish as well! And he does not have a chance at revival!” the muscular ShadowClan leader protested.
But RiverClan’s leader did not back down. “If you did not want to face death, you should never have attacked RiverClan!” Leopardstar’s tail lashed like mad. “All the clans know of your treachery over the past seasons, Blackstar! RiverClan the best! You are not deserving of our pity!” the spotted she-cat spat.
Blackstar let out a growl and braced himself to leap at the RiverClan she-cat. Every cat braced themselves for a full-on battle under the glimmering moon, but just before Backstar leaped, the clearing was consumed by darkness.
“The moon! StarClan has covered the moon!” Littlecloud cried amid the pitch black void.
After a long period of terror and fear-scent, Firestar called out, “The Gathering is over!”
And slowly, as the cats found their ways out, the clouds moved away from the full moon. Willowshine winced as the clans filed away from the island. “That went as well as the last time,” she mewed nervously.
Ivy twitched his ear, pondering Leopardstar’s overly hostile attitude. Would she have been that angry, if any other warrior had been hurt? Ivy told himself that that was true. Leopardstar just cared a lot for her clan. But something told him there was more to it than that.
“Small Thunderpath. Two sunrises from now. Be there,” A low voice murmured briefly as it passed behind him.
Ivy stood stock still behind the rest of the RiverClan group. He knew that voice… It was Blackstar! What does that frog-brained mange-pelt want?
“Off to the nest, kittypet?” A sneering voice spoke from behind the apprentice she-cat.
“Do you want something, Foggypaw?” Wildpaw meowed; thoroughly resigned.
Flintpaw’s aggressive brother had left her alone just long enough for Flintpaw to leave her to battle train with Pouncetail. The kind toms had offered that Wildpaw join them, but the young apprentice hadn’t been in the mood after the events of the Gathering. Now the gray she-cat was having second thoughts.
Foggypaw scoffed in response. “Nothing from you,” he replied.
Wildpaw sighed, tired of dealing with the unruly apprentice tom. “Great. May I leave now?”
Foggypaw bristled angrily, and unsheathed his claws. “What, is the kittypet to exhausted from her little walk? Does she need a nap? Or are you just sulking because I ruined your Gathering?” he added smugly.
The young she-cat lashed her tail, but didn’t reply. Foggypaw just couldn’t seem to get enough. He already destroyed her reputation as a warrior, and her chance to make new friends. Now he still wanted to rub sand in the wound?
“Aww, did I hurt the kittypet’s feelings?” Foggypaw teased, shoving his muzzle at Wildpaw’s.
That was when the gray shorthair lost it.
In an instant, her head snapped up, and her claws unsheathed with a growl. “Will you ever leave me alone?” she spat, surprising herself. Wildpaw took a step forward and continued. “When is this going to stop, Foggypaw? Do you get some kind of kick out of hurting me? What did I ever do to you!?” All of Wildpaw’s burning questions spilled out in rage as she slashed her tail; her eyes blazing at Foggypaw.
The light gray tom teased and bullied Wildpaw, day after day, for no good reason. Except that she was a kittypet. Foggypaw had been relentless, constantly picking on her and making her life miserable for the simple fact that she wasn’t clan born.
For a moment, Wildpaw almost backed down when she saw a startled look flash in the young tom’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “Are you feeling strong kittypet? Do you want to fight me? Bring it on!” Foggypaw snarled, falling instantly to a crouch.
But Wildpaw did not follow suit. Instead she stood still and stared at the hostile gray tom, her eyes brimming with despair. The young apprentice just couldn’t understand what was making Foggypaw so angry with her. “Do you really hate me that much!?” she exclaimed, exasperated.
“Yes!” Wildpaw flinched away from her furious clanmate’s harsh declaration.
But Foggypaw was not finished yet. “Yes, I hate you! You’re nothing but a stupid useless kittypet! And no matter what Dapplenose thought, you can never replace my sister!” The light gray tom yowled, barely keeping himself from lashing out at the shorthair she-cat.
Wildpaw blinked in surprise, shocked by Foggypaw’s words. Surely Foggypaw didn’t really think that was any cat’s intention? “You don’t think- Foggypaw, I am in no way replace-”
She got no further.
“Shut your mouth! My mother was the only reason I tolerated you, but now that she’s gone, I don’t have to anymore!” Foggypaw was seething, and there was no confirmation he was going to settle down anytime soon.
Wildpaw glanced towards the warrior's den which the two apprentices were standing alone behind. Wildpaw was worried that Foggypaw would soon attack her if no cat showed up, but at the same time she was glad no cat was there to see them.
“You think you’re so innocent,” The gray tom continued. “You’re not! A kittypet doesn’t deserve to be part of a clan for nothing! Dapplenose only took you because she was mourning my real sister! And then you replaced her! But I’ll never accept it,” Foggypaw broke off, staring down at his paws and taking a deep breath. His head snapped back up. “Poppykit was my sister, not some fish-brained, clumsy kittypet like you!”
Wildpaw crouched low, leaning away from Foggypaw as he yowled at her, and drinking in every word the fuming tom said. So much about Foggypaw made so much sense to her now, and Wildpaw only wished she had realized sooner; before he had become so angry.
“Why do you think you’re worthy of our kinship, of our clan?” Foggypaw asked lividly. “You’re not good for anything!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Foggypaw. You should have told me, I-” Wildpaw began.
“No, stop! I should’ve nothing! It was all you! You ruined everything!” The young tom stopped, his body shaking from head to tail-tip. He took a long, shuddering breath. “I don’t get it… Why did my brother pick you over me? I- I don’t…” Foggypaw murmured to himself, shaking his head.
Wildpaw’s eyes widened as she realized what the gray tom was saying. “Wait, are you talking about Flintpaw!?” she exclaimed in surprise.
Foggypaw hissed spastically, swiping a paw and knocking Wildpaw off her feet. “Of course I’m talking about him!” he spat. “You took him away from me! You; a stupid useless kittypet, took my brother away from me!” As Foggypaw spoke, he battered Wildpaw with blow after blow, hissing and growling like mad.
Wildpaw crouched down, her head in her paws, and let him swipe her. She knew she stood no chance with the stronger apprentice in this state, and she knew he needed to get his anger out somewhere. Foggypaw’s claws raked her ears and flank, stinging painfully every time they struck.
But she let him.
Until a loud yowl interrupted, and Foggypaw was bowled over by a flash of ginger. After a momentary struggle, Ivy’s voice rung out. “That’s enough!” The ginger tom pinned Foggypaw roughly to the ground.
After a long heartbeat or heavy breathing, Ivy spoke again, his glare searing through the younger tom’s skull. “Have you no honour at all? Or are you just a coward, who beats up defenseless opponents to make himself feel stronger?” the ginger tom hissed.
“It wasn’t to feel stronger!” Foggypaw yowled indignantly, struggling to free himself from the muscular tom’s grip.
But Ivy didn’t budge. “Oh?” he asked the apprentice. “Then what was it for? Was she your prey? Or were you teaching her some sort of lesson?” he said sarcastically.
Foggypaw did not give in so easily. “If the kittypet is too weak to defend herself, then she has no place in this clan!” he protested.
Ivy growled, pinning Foggypaw tighter to the ground. The apprentice let out a squeal of pain, but Ivy didn’t let in. “Are you Leopardstar?” he spat. “Because she’s the one who decides who can or can’t be a member of RiverClan!”
“And who are you to tell me this,” Foggypaw replied grumpily. “You’re not a true RiverClan warrior either! You can defend the kittypet out in the wild!”
Ivy dug his claws into the young tom, a malicious growl rumbling in his throat. Foggypaw squirmed in fear as the ginger tom leaned close. “According to your logic, you have no right to say anything because you can’t defend yourself from me,” he hissed.
“Ivy, stop,” Wildpaw pleaded, not wanting the fight to go any further on her behalf.
Ivy turned his gaze towards her, and with a deep breath, he released Foggypaw from his grasp. “Don’t forget,” he grumbled as the apprentice limped away. “If I ever see you pick on her again, I won’t be so merciful.”
Wildpaw closed her eyes and sighed. What a day, she thought tiredly. To Ivy she said, “Thank you for stopping that, but I don’t think he deserves to be hurt or threatened. He’s just mad because I ‘replaced’ his sister and took Flintpaw from him.”
Ivy narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t rough him up a bit for hurting you,” he reasoned, padding over and brushing against her flank.
Wildpaw sighed again. “I guess so,” she agreed. But she couldn’t help thinking that wasn’t the way they should have handled things. Maybe if I didn’t hang out with Flintpaw so much, Foggypaw would forgive me…
But the thought of avoiding Flintpaw made her heart ache, and she decided that wouldn’t be necessary.
“I’m going back to Pixieflight again, want to join me?” Ivy asked over his shoulder.
Wildpaw was filled with guilt as she thought of how little she visited her injured mentor. The young apprentice nodded. “Yes, I will,” she replied, and followed the ginger tom to the medicine den.
“What are you doing here?” Ivy grumbled tiredly, confused by the sight of Darkcloud creeping at the medicine den entry. Pixieflight’s denmate had shown about as much interest in his kittypet sister as Foggypaw had for Wildpaw.
But the smokey gray tom merely murmured, “I thought you had gone hunting,” under his breath in response.
Ivy flicked his ear in suspicion. “What’s that got to do with anything?” he prodded the broody tom further. Darkcloud grunted in reply, and turned around to leave the way he came.
Ivy wasn’t about to let Pixieflight’s foster brother go that easily. “Hey, I asked you a question!” the ginger tom called after the gray warrior.
Darkcloud froze, his shoulders tensing in annoyance. After a heartbeat, he turned his gaze to meet Ivy’s, and over his shoulder he said, “And this is me not caring.”
Ivy bristled with anger at the tom’s blatantly rude attitude, and jumped up to his paws as Darkcloud continued walking away. “Hey!” he yowled indignantly. “Get back here!”
Darkcloud proceeded, not even acknowledging that Ivy had spoken. The ginger tom’s ears boiled with rage, and he dug his claws into the ground. The nerve of that cat! He thought bitterly, returning to his place next to Pixieflight.
After he had cooled down, Ivy decided it was time to go out hunting. But as the thought came to mind, he thought of Darkcloud again. The insolent warrior had come to the den because he had assumed Ivy had gone hunting. Maybe if I pretend to leave, I can see what the heap of fox dung was doing!
Suddenly, Ivy’s thoughts drew back to the Gathering, and Blackstar. Speaking of fox-hearts with suspicious motives… Ivy shuddered, not wanting to think of the horrid ShadowClan leader anymore.
At least not until tomorrow... The ginger tom shook off the thought, blinking his eyes shut. For now, his meeting with Blackstar wasn’t his priority; Darkcloud was.
After obviously announcing that he was going hunting, Ivy scurried a bit away from the sight of any cat in the camp. Then, he circled around to the back of the medicine den.
As he approached the back of the camp, he slipped quietly into the outskirts of the clearing, scanning for Darkcloud. To his delight, Ivy spotted the smokey gray tom padding over to the medicine den. Ivy crouched down low, hoping the warrior wouldn’t see or smell him. Fortunately, Darkcloud was oblivious to Ivy’s presence, and he strode on into the den.
Now, what are you up to… Ivy inquired silently, creeping cautiously towards the mouth of the den, straining his ears for any sounds. It was too late for the ginger tom to question himself about what he expected Darkcloud to be doing. He’d been acting on petty anger and unjustified suspicion. But even so, Ivy was shocked to find Darkcloud walking up to Pixieflight, and laying down beside the unconscious white she-cat.
“Hey, Pixieflight,” the smokey tom meowed. “It’s me again. I- I ran into your… friend, today. He seems nice.”
Ivy’s eyes widened as he heard laughter in the tom’s mew. He’s being sincere! Ivy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The same impolite, grumpy, unruly warrior that had insulted the ginger tom just a little while ago, was sharing tongues with his injured, adopted littermate, that he himself had disowned! And he was laughing!
Ivy was forced out of his thoughts as a quiet voice spoke up from behind him. “What are you doing?” a she-cat asked.
Ivy nearly jumped out of his fur when she spoke. Immediately he turned to face the she-cat, and was surprised to see the black pelt of Emberheart standing there; Pixieflight’s other adoptive littermate. “U-um… I was, um…” Ivy stammered, trying to think of an excuse.
Emberheart stared at him, her expression neutral. Ivy couldn’t help but be perplexed by the black she-cat. Her yellow eyes always seemed to be devoid of emotionless, never reacting to anything anyone said to her. The one time Ivy had tried to speak to her, he had been unnerved by her quiet, impassive response.
Ivy blinked in shock as she spoke. “Are you spying on my brother?” Again, Ivy barely held back a shudder at her mild, unexpressive tone.
Crawling with discomfort, he replied, “Well, um… kind of?” he answered awkwardly.
Emberheart blinked in silence, fixing Ivy with her remote yellow stare. “Well, you shouldn’t be,” was the black she-cat’s response.
Ivy nodded hesitantly, and swallowed hard. But Emberheart didn’t move. It was clear she wanted some kind of apology or response from Ivy. “I- uh… I was just, wondering why he was, um, visiting Pixieflight,” the stammering ginger tom managed at last.
Emberheart blinked again, cocking her head to one side. “He’s her brother,” she replied simply, a look of confusion crossing her face.
Ivy nearly sighed in relief at the sight of emotion on the she-cat’s face, but his discomfort kept him from doing so. “Well, yes, but… He hasn’t shown much… Interest, in her,” Ivy responded finally.
Emberheart nodded. “That’s true I guess, but he used to. He used to be very interested in her. He used to be closer to her than me. Pixieflight was close to him as well,” the lithe she-cat sighed, somewhat wistfully.
The look in the dark she-cat’s eyes took Ivy by surprise. There was a longing in them; an aching pain. Ivy suddenly looked at the strange she-cat in a new light. Clearly, Emberheart wasn’t some creepy emotionless creature, she was just an odd cat. And as it seemed; a timid and lonely one.
Ivy opened his mouth to say something to her, but just as he did so, a gruff voice cut him off. “I don’t smell any prey on you,” Darkcloud grumbled suspiciously.
Ivy froze in place, his brain buzzing for an excuse. But before Ivy could say anything, Emberheart piped up. “He was wondering why you were visiting Pixieflight,” she mewed, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Ivy shut his eyes, silently cursing the she-cat. She just has to be the most oblivious cat in all four clans! He thought bitterly, bracing himself for Darkcloud’s response.
The smokey gray tom just stared at him in silence for a few heartbeats, before answering. “Oh? Are you her mate or something? Why does some rogue care that I’m visiting her?”
Ivy bristled, his pelt burning furiously. Through clenched teeth he replied. “If you must know, I was wondering why someone who upfront rejected relations with his sister, would visit her in the medicine den,” the ginger tom said meaningfully.
Now it was Darkcloud’s turn to bristle. “That’s- none of your business!” he hesitated.
Ivy sniffed, unappeased by the smokey tom’s deflection. Just as Darkcloud stepped forward to leave, Emberheart stepped in front of her brother. “Is it my business?” she asked.
Ivy would have expected to see a spark of defiance or confrontation in the black she-cat’s eyes, but he only saw innocent sincerity. His sister’s honesty was enough to make Darkcloud uncomfortable, and he shifted his eyes awkwardly before saying, “N-no, it’s not…”
Emberheart looked down at her paws, her face hardening, and Ivy thought she looked almost, hurt. “Oh. Okay.” She nodded, and then hopped up and scurried away.
Ivy growled under his breath, annoyed at the smokey tom’s harshness.
He turned his glare to Darkcloud and hissed, “Good job, frog-brain! You hurt your sweet sister’s feelings, and you can’t blame this one on not sharing bloo-”
“Shut up!” Darkcloud yowled, unsheathing his claws. “This was your fault!”
Ivy braced himself for an attack, but the look in the dark tom’s blazing amber eyes made the ginger tom hesitate. There was an emotion Ivy was not expecting to find there. Darkcloud’s eyes seemed genuinely remorseful, and he looked more hurt than his sister had.
The ginger tom had no idea how to respond to the other RiverClan warrior, and he just shifted his eyes awkwardly, still in a defensive crouch.
Finally, Darkcloud broke the silence. “Things aren’t as simple as you may think they are, rogue. It’d be best if you just left it alone.” And with that, the smokey gray tom stalked away, leaving Ivy to wonder about the meaning of his words.
Ivy opened his mouth and tasted the air; his heart pounding, and claws unsheathed. In the back of his mind, the ginger tom hoped he wouldn’t find what he was looking for.
The events of the Gathering flooded to his mind once again as he sniffed the air by the small Thunderpath for the scent of Blackstar: “Small Thunderpath. Two sunrises from now. Be there,” Something about the cruel ShadowClan leader’s tone unnerved Ivy. It was out of place; irregular. Was it… emotion? Was there tenderness in the cold tom’s mew?
Ivy shook off the thought. There was no way Blackstar could have a heart, not after the white tom had shown Ivy and Snowbird so much heartlessness. It was impossible. Besides, there was nothing for the leader to care about. The thought crawled in Ivy’s pelt, but his thinking was cut off by a sharp and familiar scent reaching his nose: The marshy reek of his former leader.
Immediately Ivy stiffened and a shiver went down his spine. So, he came after all. Ivy warily tasted the air again, making sure there wasn’t anyone with Blackstar. The wind was blowing in Ivy’s favour, so the ginger tom could tell who was sitting at the other side of the small Thunderpath, but Blackstar would not be able to smell Ivy yet.
With a deep breath, Ivy slunk out of hiding into the clearing before the white tom with black paws. Blackstar looked up as he did, and his eyes lit up oddly as he got to his feet. “You came,” he meowed, his tone unreadable.
Ivy sniffed. “Yes, so I did,” he replied, fighting his increasing discomfort at the ShadowClan leader’s unnaturally casual attitude. This was not a normal conversation, and Ivy was in no way Blackstar’s friend. The ginger tom had no clue why Blackstar seemed to be under these kind of assumptions.
There was a heartbeat of silence as the two toms stared at each other, interrupted by the roaring of a passing monster. Finally, Blackstar cleared his throat. “You are probably wondering why you’re here,” he spoke lamely.
Ivy narrowed his eyes, his paws burning to strike something as he waited for Blackstar to continue. The big white tom coughed awkwardly, and then spoke again. “I… I just wanted to… Settle things between us,” he began.
Ivy’s eyes widened as the ShadowClan leader went on. Is he going to- No, he isn’t. He can't!
“I know you can never forgive me for what I’ve done, and… for what happened with Tallpoppy, but-” Blackstar attempted to continue, but Ivy had had enough.
The ginger tom growled and pounced a few steps forward, baring his fangs, and hissed: “You mean what you did to her!” Blackstar opened his mouth to interject, but Ivy was not in the mood for the ShadowClan leader’s game. “I- know what you’re trying to do, but save it! I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!” The ex-rogue warrior snarled.
Blackstar lowered his head in a solemn nod. “And you are right to. I only wanted to-”
“No!” Ivy shrieked; vehement at the sudden and unfair change in the cruel, fox-hearted leader, that the ginger tom had known growing up.
This empathetic old pushover standing before Ivy was not the brutal tom that had killed Tallpoppy, nor the merciless leader that had driven Ivy out as a broken young apprentice. This was not the Blackstar Ivy knew; it couldn’t be.
But then why, is he being so sincere!? The thought ached in his heart and raced in his mind until Ivy couldn’t handle it anymore. “What in StarClan happened to you?” the ginger tom grumbled murderously.
Blackstar’s eyes softened and he sat down slowly. With his head turned away, he murmured sadly, “I lost your mother.”
Ivy froze still in shock for a heartbeat, the words felt like ice piercing his heart. And then, a heartbeat later, he was warmed again by the burning rage that flared up his spine. The bewildered tom couldn’t understand how the guilty tyrant could be so impudent.
With a quiet but sinister mew, Ivy spoke. “You would dare to speak of her like that, after what you did? Are you hoping for some sort of closure, you sick, twisted, piece of-”
“Shut your mouth, kit!” At his sudden outburst, Ivy looked up in surprise at the looming white tom. His demeanor had changed completely, and he was standing up tall, braced threateningly. His eyes had a deep and dark coldness to them.
Ivy stopped dead, his paws tingling as he finally recognized the ruthless leader from his youth. Blackstar continued. “Don’t act like you know everything! I’m here, trying to make things right, admitting my own failure, and all you’re doing is criticizing me!”
“You can’t just ‘make things right’! You killed her, and we all have to live with that! There is no making things right! I might consider listening to you if you tried explaining yourself! Tell me Blackstar,” Ivy hesitated, his breath unsteady from rage. “Tell me why; why in StarClan you did it! Was there any reason? Were you just mad and stupid? Were you doing what was best? I thought you loved her!”
“I did!” Blackstar’s protest was immediately followed by the passing roar of a monster.
Ivy let the silence fall for a heartbeat after the monster sped off. “Then why did you kill her!?” He screeched the question that had been burning in his mind for seasons, knowing that there was no answer the burly white tom could give to satisfy him. Not even waiting for a response, Ivy dropped into a crouch and hissed, “You don’t deserve any closure!”
At his words, Blackstar let out a bloodcurdling yowl, and leaped across the small Thunderpath in four long strides. Before Ivy knew what was happening, his foster father had tackled him, sending them both rolling back down the slope. Overwhelmed by the large tom’s strength and battle experience, Ivy struggled desperately to escape Blackstar’s grip.
The two toms fumbled around in the dirt, hissing and spitting, fueled by rage. Ivy somehow managed to twist around and latch onto Blackstar’s scruff. His teeth bit into the ShadowClan leader’s thin white pelt, and almost instantly Ivy tasted blood.
Blackstar yowled in pain, landing a solid stinging hit against the back of the ginger tom’s head. Ivy’s vision blurred, and he stung all over, but he couldn’t give up. If he slowed down, Blackstar would surely take his life, just as he had taken his mother’s.
And I can’t die here, Pixieflight needs me! As he fought with all his might, Ivy had no idea that his thoughts echoed Pixieflight’s own, deep in her dreams of StarClan.
***
Pixieflight bit down hard, fighting off the uncomfortable pain in her neck. It had dulled significantly from before, but it still ached and throbbed quite badly.
The white she-cat was no longer dreaming in StarClan, but she couldn’t move or see. It had taken what seemed like moons of running through agony for her to finally escape from that dark and starlit forest back to what she assumed was her real body. She could vaguely feel her muscles strain in the effort to breath, and she faintly heard herself exhaling.
A few times Pixieflight had tried to open her eyes, but the weight was too heavy. I have become so weak, she thought tiredly. That I can’t even lift my own eyelids. The idea almost made her laugh, except it would have been too exhausting an effort.
A little while earlier, she had heard Mothwing’s muffled voice echo around somewhere, but she had been far too fatigued to respond. At the time, she wasn’t even able to groan. Even now, the concept seemed difficult, and she decided against it.
Suddenly, she heard Willowshine’s voice call out. It seemed so distant, that Pixieflight realized she must not be totally awake at all. Or perhaps she was falling back asleep. The thought of sleep was very tempting, but Pixieflight was curious about what Willowshine was saying, and she fought off the lulling darkness.
Her voice was very faded, but Pixieflight could just barely make out the younger medicine cat’s words. “...telling you ...very suspicious… Ivy… haven’t seen him since…”
If Pixieflight had had the strength, her eyes would of flown open in surprise, but instead she let out a slightly harsher exhale as the looming tug of slumber dissipated a little.
Ivy? She hasn’t seen him? What’s suspicious? The fluffy she-cat’s exhausted mind worked like lighting trying to decode the bits she had heard of Willowshine’s message.
But why does she sound so worried? This was the thing that troubled the injured warrior the most. Has something happened to Ivy? At the thought, she let out a tiny whimper of distress. Any untrained ear would have missed it completely, but at the sound, Pixieflight felt both medicine cat’s stiffen and fall silent.
Immediately after, pattering paws ran up to Pixieflight’s side and the white fluffy she-cat heard Mothwing’s warm meow call out in excitement and desperation. “Pixieflight? Can you hear me? If you can move anything, please let us know. Don’t strain yourself,” the senior medicine cat added hastily.
Pixieflight promptly ignored Mothwing’s order, and put all of her strength into swishing her tail. Except she only managed small twitch of her tail tip.
“My stars!” Mothwing breathed in disbelief. “She’s going to make it!”
I haven't made a real blurb for the story, but basically it's about the second daughter of Cloudtail and Brightheart named Pixieflight who was born just after The Sight. She's taken as a kit by ShadowClan but abandoned in the river. A RiverClan tom saves her and she's adopted by Dawnflower.
The story mostly revolves around her being discriminated in the clan (they think she's the daughter of a kittypet) and her romance with a rogue from ShadowClan named Ivy, who has a dark story of his own involving his parents and cross-clan love.
It also includes stuff about her apprentice Wildpaw and so forth.
Other people leave warnings about violence, so I guess I should too. There are battles, and kind of brutal scenes, but I wouldn't say it's worse than the real series.
I guess spoiler warning too, up until Dark River (Since that's how far I've read
). This story also includes my own version of Jaypaw's first Gathering (I wrote it before I read the real one.)Anyways, enjoy! I hope you like it.
Btw, the spoiler tags are chapters in order, except the first tag has two chapters in it. (Accident, sorry)
Edit: The rest of the chapters are posted in the comment below, still in order. (Website glitch I assume)
Chapter 1
A white tom sat in front of the nursing den, ears back and stomach tight with apprehension. He fought the urge to pace the ground and instead let out an uncomfortable groan. Inside the den, his mate, Brightheart, lay beside two Thunderclan medicine cats, in the beginnings of her kitting.
Brightheart let out a piercing yowl.
Leafpool gently nudged the distressed queen with her muzzle. “There, that’s it! Just a little more,” she purred assuredly.
Jaypaw shifted nervously on his front paws, his pelt prickling with anxiety for his old mentor. Leafpool met his gaze calmly.
“It’s all right, Jaypaw. She’s doing fine.” The senior medicine cat turned her attention back to Brightheart. “Good, good! Now, just one more-”
Leafpool was cut off by Brightheart’s howl, and then a tiny pitiful mewl.
“You’ve done it!” Leafpool exclaimed excitedly. “Your first kit! Now hang on for the next one…”
Jaypaw turned his head away as Brightheart wailed again. This was almost too much. He decided to focus his attention on Brightheart’s kit to distract from her agony. He leaned close to the small ball of wet fur, and was quickly reminded to clean it off. He began to lick the tiny kits pelt, and quickly noticed it was a tiny ball of fluff. Soon another and another kit joined the pile, and they all curled up around their mother like three little bundles of fluff.
“Is she done? Was it okay? Are they healthy? Is she alright?” Cloudtail burst into the den, unable to contain himself any longer.
Leafpool shot him a mildly annoyed glance. “She’s fine, Cloudtail. I know what I’m doing. Your kits are good and healthy too,” she explained.
Cloudtail’s eyes lit up and he bounded over to his mate, purring warmly as he curled up beside her. “Oh, they’re beautiful, Brightheart. Just like you.”
Brightheart rubbed his muzzle affectionately. Jaypaw tried not to roll his blind eyes.
“What shall we name them?” Cloudtail asked, his excitement barely suppressed.
Leafpool flashed him another glare. “You can bear to wait until she’s at least caught her breath, can’t you!?” she retorted.
Cloudtail looked down at his paws.
Brightheart purred in amusement. “It’s fine,” she said, then took a deep breath. “Any ideas, Cloudtail?” she smiled at him warmly.
Cloudtail’s head shot up eagerly. He nudged at the first born kit, the white fluffball. “Can I name her?” he asked reproachfully, eyeing Brightheart.
She purred and nodded. Cloudtail glanced back down at his snow-white daughter, his eyes loving.
“Pixiekit,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the precious bundle.
Brightheart’s eyes lit up with wonder. “Pixiekit? Where did you get that from?” she asked.
Cloudtail turned to her. “My mother told me it was the name of my sister,” he explained.
Brightheart nodded, smiling down at the young kit. “Then Pixiekit it is,” she said.
The fluffy kit mewed happily beneath her loving parents, and they leaned together affectionately.
Brightheart nudged at the other two kits who were contentedly suckling her warm milk. “Now, what shall your names be, little ones?” The new mother purred.
She licked the second born, a white-furred male with a ginger pattern on his legs, head, and tail. “Your name will be Clovekit,” Brightheart proclaimed softly.
Cloudtail purred approvingly and brushed Brightheart’s neck with his muzzle.
Brightheart moved on to the youngest, a tiny furry female with a ginger muzzle, and a single ginger spot on her back. “And you shall be Spotkit,” she concluded.
The nursery faded into a comfortable silence as the new family sat affectionately together. Jaypaw let out an impatient huff, feeling quite left out and ignored. But just as he did, Firestar entered the den with Hollypaw and Lionpaw.
“How’d it go?” Hollypaw inquired eagerly.
“Fine,” Jaypaw sighed dismissively. He’d had about enough of this experience.
Firestar spoke next. “This is great news! I’m glad your kits are well, we always have need of strong warriors,” Firestar nodded to his former apprentice, his eyes twinkling kindly.
Cloudtail bobbed his head excitedly. “Yes! Would you like to hear their names?” Before Firestar could respond, Cloudtail continued; Brightheart purred in amusement. “I named my eldest! Her name is Pixiekit, after your niece. Brightheart named the others. This one is Clovekit, and the other is Spotkit! Aren’t they wonderful, Firestar?”
“Yes, they certainly are,” Firestar purred. “We’ll have to brag about them at the Gathering. It’s drawing near.”
***
Cloudtail padded silently into the nursing den. The first light of dawn had barely reached the horizon. He reached his sleeping mate with his precious kits, and curled himself around them; purring loudly.
Brightheart flicked her ear as he leaned close, and began murmuring sleepily. Her eyes blinked open a few moments later, and they met with Cloudtail’s eager blue gems.
“Oh, Cloudtail, what in StarClan are you doing up?” she whispered in dismay.
“I couldn’t sleep!” Cloudtail insisted, flicking his tail.
Brightheart rolled her eyes. “It’s been three days since my kitting. At some point, you have to learn to trust me. I do know what I’m doing, you know,” she replied in annoyance.
Cloudtail shifted self-consciously. “I know…” he murmured. “I’m just… High-strung I guess. I’ve been waiting to have new kits for so long…”
Brightheart softened her gaze. “It’s alright, I know,” she assured him gently. “But you have to get a hold of yourself by tonight. You’re going to the Gathering remember?”
Cloudtail nodded his head. “I can’t wait! Firestar will announce our kits birth to all the clans! They’ll be so jealous!” he purred excitedly.
Brightheart rolled her eyes with an amused grin, turning her eyes to her sleeping kits. Someday, they would be great warriors, and they’d go to their own Gathering.
Chapter 2
“Come on, Jaypaw, move it! Don’t be late to your first Gathering!” Hollypaw hissed, swiping Jaypaw with her tail.
Jaypaw fluffed his fur; dropping a bunch of thyme into a pile, and fixed a blind glare at his sister. He felt her relax apologetically, and she beckoned him to follow with another tail-swipe. He obeyed, excitement overwhelming his annoyance. He would finally be attending a Gathering!
He barely stifled a sigh as another thought came to mind. He wouldn’t be attending as a warrior. The thought poked at sore wounds, but he shook himself. It didn’t matter; at least he would finally be going.
“Is everyone ready?” Firestar’s voice called out from the Highledge.
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the camp, and Jaypaw felt head bobbing down in nods. The apprentice’s coming to this moon’s Gathering were Hazelpaw, Cinderpaw, Berrypaw, Lionpaw, Hollypaw, and himself, while the warrior’s attending were Brackenfur, Cloudtail, Dustpelt, Thornclaw, Graystripe, Millie, Sandstorm and Whitewing.
Firestar grunted in approval, and the gathered cats stood up and began to amble forward. Jaypaw assumed Firestar had signaled them to follow him, and got to his paws as well.
Awhile later, they arrived at the fallen tree. Jaypaw’s nose filled with scents of WindClan and RiverClan, but not yet any ShadowClan.
“I guess we beat ShadowClan this time,” Hollypaw whispered, more to Lionpaw than Jaypaw.
Firestar lead the way across the fallen trunk, Brambleclaw following, and Cloudtail bounding up close behind. Lionpaw took an uncertain step forward. Jaypaw could feel his muscles tense up as he heaved himself onto the trunk. His mentor, Ashfur, quickly scooted up behind him; prompting Jaypaw to wonder if Lionpaw had had a bad experience crossing the trunk before. Hollypaw’s next words proved his suspicions.
“Be careful,” she hissed in Jaypaw’s ear. “It’s awfully slippery, and riddled with trip-twigs,” she advised.
Normally, Jaypaw would be annoyed at this kind of caution due to his blindness, but given the situation, he was instead grateful. He waited for his sister to cross, and then he took a ginger step forward. He felt the cold, damp, wood touch his paw-pad, and as he continued forward slowly, his paws slid around warily.
Suddenly, he felt Leafpool come up behind him and steady him with her muzzle. Jaypaw’s pelt pricked with indignity, and he quickened his pace. However, once he did so, he deeply regretted it.
As he abandoned caution, his paws stumbled over odd protruding twigs and he swerved around the slippery wood. Jaypaw scrambled desperately for a solid foundation to fall on, but as he stretched out his paws, he found only air.
With a jolt, he realized he was falling. He mewed in a frenzied panic, until he felt a firm grip tug on his scruff. Leafpool had caught him as his front paws took a dive over the side of the trunk, and now she yanked him in the opposite direction. Jaypaw landed with a grunt of pain, pathetically draped over the trunk with his mentor holding him securely like a helpless kit.
Jaypaw had never been more embarrassed in his entire life. He could feel the eyes of his siblings, and all the other ThunderClan cats staring at him, concern and pity oozing from their eyes. Jaypaw flattened his ears and rose to his paws, seething in shame.
Leafpool nudged him along and he carefully navigated the rest of the trunk and joined his other clanmates.
Hollypaw and Lionpaw attempted to comfort him, but Jaypaw refused them. He just walked with them into the clearing and sat on his own to wallow in his humiliation. His siblings hesitated a moment, but then curiosity and excitement overtook them and they left to converse with the other clan cats.
As Jaypaw sat alone, his tail laying limp on the cold ground, he scented ShadowClan’s approach. So they’re here at last. Jaypaw thought acidly, his ear twitching. He wished he could just go home and sleep off this nightmare.
Before long, the Gathering commenced, and the rest of the clans gathered around him to listen to their leaders’ reports.
As each leader came up, Jaypaw became bored with the proceedings and stopped paying attention. That is, until Blackstar stepped up to address the clans.
“ShadowClan has been fortunate this moon,” he began. “Prey has been plentiful, and we have a new kit in our nursery,” The ShadowClan leader’s words had a mysterious edge, as if there was more to what he was saying than he let on.
As if to concede his thoughts, Lionpaw hissed, “One kit isn’t much to brag about. It’s more like a tragedy.”
Jaypaw nodded in agreement. He scented the air, counting the number of scents present from ShadowClan. As he suspected, they were a few cats short. They don’t have enough warriors. Something about that fact made Jaypaw shiver to the bone. He shook his head and turned his blind attention to Firestar as he stepped up to announce ThunderClan’s news. Jaypaw felt Cloudtail fidget in his place.
Firestar stood proudly as he spoke, “Thunderclan has been blessed this moon as well. Along with competent prey, we have three healthy kits in our nursery, born to some of ThunderClan’s greatest warriors, Cloudtail and Brightheart.”
Cloudtail sat up and swished his tail at the praise and mention of his kin. Jaypaw thought it was a bit odd for Firestar to compliment so freely, but then again Cloudtail was Firestar’s kin. What Jaypaw really found unsettling was the way ShadowClan stiffened at the mention of the kits. His skin crawled uncannily as he felt their eyes search around and meet with each other, as if silently discussing something.
Jaypaw was forced to put these thoughts out of his mind as the Gathering came to an end, and ThunderClan followed Firestar back to camp.
Ahead, Cloudtail chatted pridefully with Thornclaw. “Did you see the way they looked at each other? I told Brightheart they’d be jealous! They only wish they had kits like mine!”
Thornclaw rolled his eyes and continued walking, but an eery feeling refused to leave Jaypaw’s belly as he thought about ShadowClan’s “jealousy”. Something just wasn’t right.
Chapter 3
As dawn came the following morning, Cloudtail was up to his usual charades.
“Cloudtail, please, I need to rest,” Brightheart insisted wearily.
“I’m sorry, Brightheart. I just miss you laying next to me in my den, and I wanted to see the kits before I went out to hunt,” Cloudtail explained, somewhat shyly.
Ferncloud poked her head up. “Well, you’ve seen them, now go and hunt. You’re disturbing everyone,” she snapped grumpily, giving a quick lick to Icekit and Foxkit before laying her head back down to rest.
Daisy mumbled her agreement, and Cloudtail looked down at his paws, chagrined.
Cloudtail and Brightheart turned their heads as Leafpool and Jaypaw walked in the entrance.
“Don’t tell me you’ve brought me more herbs, Leafpool. One would think I am going to die,” Brightheart joked in slight irritation.
Cloudtail’s eyes widened. “She’s not sick, is she?” he inquired, horror-stricken.
Leafpool rolled her eyes. “No, Cloudtail, she’s perfectly healthy. But she just recently kitted, and I’ve been giving her herbs to help her recover. The same I’d give to any other queen,” Leafpool added, giving a meaningful glance to Brightheart, who sighed in return.
“Why is Jaypaw here?” Brightheart asked.
Jaypaw shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. He didn’t want to reveal that he had come because of a nagging suspicion in his gut, that would only scare his former mentor. Not to mention her eruptious mate.
“Um… I just wanted to see you. And the kits,” he replied, but her knowing gaze fell on him, and he knew he had not fooled her.
But then, just as Brightheart opened her mouth to say something more, a viscous yowl erupted outside the den.
“What in StarClan-” Leafpool began, her hackles raised.
“ShadowClan!” Jaypaw growled suddenly, unsheathing his claws, his worst fears coming to life. Oh, why didn’t I warn them! He scolded himself.
But before anyone had time to react, a cavalcade of hisses and howls burst out all around the camp. “Ambush!”
Jaypaw and Cloudtail rushed to the entrance of the den. Brightheart tried to get up, but Leafpool stopped her.
“No, don’t! You’ve only just kitted, you can’t be fighting yet!” she insisted.
“I don’t have time to rest! Not if my kits are in danger!” Brightheart snapped.
Cloudtail looked over his shoulder at his mate. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect them!” he vowed.
But just as he said that, Jaypaw hissed a warning, and a second later a ShadowClan warrior tackled Cloudtail to the ground. They rolled on the nursery floor, hissing, spitting, and swiping like mad. Brightheart yowled in concern, and Jaypaw felt her tense around her kits defensively. Leafpool stepped in front and hissed, but out of nowhere, Jaypaw scented four ShadowClan warriors as they spilled in through the nursery door. One warrior knocked Leafpool off her feet and the others went after Brightheart and Ferncloud.
The nursery was utter chaos. Cats hissed and clawed at each other in a flurry of desperation. Cloudtail shook the warrior off him just in time to be flattened again by a warrior Jaypaw was clinging to. Cloudtail slashed the face of a warrior Jaypaw scented to be Rowanclaw, while another warrior raked his back with it’s claws. Cloudtail was caught in a blind rage clawing at anything and everything he could, until he heard Brightheart’s shrieking yowl and a flurry of movement sped by him.
In a rush of panic oozing in fear-scent, both Cloudtail and Jaypaw swung their heads to Brightheart, and with a pang of horror, Jaypaw only scented two kits there. And a lot of blood.
***
Pixiekit was hanging limply from the jaws of the ShadowClan warrior: Smokefoot. The tiny kit mewed in distress at the sudden cold air. She was being dragged away from her mother’s warmth by a rough, painful grip. The safe comfort of the den was lost, and now she was surrounded by bitter cold and hostility. Angry yowls spewed around the poor kit as she mewed and mewed for her mother.
All of a sudden, she heard her father’s voice calls after her, filled with concern and desperation. Frightened, Pixiekit mewed again. Then, just like that, the noise was gone. All she could hear were the thumping footsteps and hot, ragged breath of her captor. The poor kit was suddenly surrounded with a disturbing stench, similar to the one her kit-napper carried.
“Get back here you filthy crow-spawn!” A new voice rang out in the silent forest, making the ShadowClan cat grunt in surprise.
The new cat hissed and swiped at Smokefoot’s tail. Pixiekit recognised the voice and scent as a cat from her own clan!
The ShadowClan warrior veered left; away from the ThunderClan cat’s claws. The thumping of the cat’s paw steps continued for what seemed like ages for the miserable helpless kit. They had gone so far from her warm safe home, there was not a single scent Pixiekit recognised. Her nose was suddenly filled with a sharp bitter scent that made the small kit’s eyes water. Even though no scent was familiar to the kit, Pixiekit knew this new place was strange.
The ThunderClan cat who was following her kit-napper had chased him quite a long ways, and even Pixiekit knew they weren’t in ThunderClan anymore. But they kept going, and going, until another strange stench filled the kit’s nose.
Eventually, the vehement ThunderClan cat gained ground on Smokefoot, and leaped onto his back. The two cats tumbled down a hill, Pixiekit mewling in pain as they went, and ended up next to the RiverClan stream: the source of the new stench. Smokefoot regained his footing above a pathetically writhing Pixiekit, and locked eyes with the ThunderClan cat.
After a stiff moment of tension, he quickly snatched Pixiekit in his jaws, and with a menacing glare, swung his head and tossed her into the stream.
After a stiff moment of tension, he quickly snatched Pixiekit in his jaws, and with a menacing glare, swung his head and tossed her into the stream.
Pixiekit let out a terrified squeak as she flew, and again when she hit the water. When her small body felt the cold shock of the stream water, her big blue eyes opened for the first time. The first and last thing Pixiekit saw was the ThunderClan cat, a golden tom, frozen in shock, his mouth wide open. Then the rushing waves covered her, and she drifted far, far, from home.
***
Smokefoot smirked maliciously for a moment, before launching an attack. The golden tom was too stunned to fight back, and let the ShadowClan warrior claw him until two other cats arrived.
A black she-cat dove at Smokefoot; tackling him to the ground and savagely tearing at the ShadowClan tom’s pelt.
Hollypaw. Lionpaw recognised his sister in a daze; followed by his mentor Ashfur, as he lay on the ground, his blood seeping into the sandy streambed. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. His rescuers chased off the ShadowClan tom and turned to him, concern flooding their eyes.
Hollypaw. Lionpaw recognised his sister in a daze; followed by his mentor Ashfur, as he lay on the ground, his blood seeping into the sandy streambed. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. His rescuers chased off the ShadowClan tom and turned to him, concern flooding their eyes.
“Lionpaw! Are you alright!? What happened!” Hollypaw asked, licking his bloody pelt furiously.
Lionpaw just shut his eyes in dismay, wishing he had imagined what he saw. “I failed,” he replied solemnly. “He killed her.”
Well, there you go, that's the 'intro' I guess. Again, I hope you enjoyed it, and please tell me your thoughts, I'd love to know what you liked and what you think I should improve. I'll probably post the next chapter tomorrow.
Well, there you go, that's the 'intro' I guess. Again, I hope you enjoyed it, and please tell me your thoughts, I'd love to know what you liked and what you think I should improve. I'll probably post the next chapter tomorrow.
Chapter 4
Rippletail waited patiently, his tail swishing from side to side, his deep blue eyes focused on the rushing rapids of the stream. Watching, waiting for the silver flash of a fish to reveal itself.
Suddenly, above the sound of the rushing waves, Rippletail heard a vicious growl followed by a battle cry and scuffling.
The alarmed RiverClan warrior scented the air, and was taken aback by the distant scent of both RiverClan and ThunderClan buried beneath the strong stench of fish. Rippletail searched the area for the source of the scents and noises, but he couldn’t tell a thing right next to the stream.
Cursing under his breath, he turned back towards camp to warn the others, but stopped short when he heard a new sound, way out of place on the battlefield: The desperate squeal of a kit.
Rippletail turned back in shock as he heard gargled mewls surprisingly close. His heart nearly stopped when the kit’s noises suddenly cut off. In a panic, Rippletail searched the waves for any sign of the kit. His eyes scanned the rapids of the stream desperately, at just as he was about to give up hope, he found her; a tiny ball of snow-white fur drifting beneath the roaring waves.
Without hesitation Rippletail scrambled towards the helpless kit, and dove straight into the rushing waters. He desperately tried to keep his head above water as he swam hysterically in the direction of the powerless drowning furball, but the waves got the better of him and he was repeatedly slapped in the face by vicious waves. He choked and spat as water filled his lungs, but he padded on, determined to catch this kit and save it from it’s doom.
As Rippletail drew nearer to the kit, he reached out his muzzle; allowing gulps of water to enter his throat. Choking painfully, he continued on until his jaws clamped firmly onto the tiny kit’s scruff. With all his remaining strength, he shoved against the sand and launched himself; with the kit in his jaws, to the shore.
Choking and gasping he dropped the water-logged kit onto the streambed and collapsed to the ground. After a moment, Rippletail regained himself and turned to the kit, who lay still on the shore.
In a burst of panic, he shakily came to his paws and rolled the kit over with his muzzle. He pushed his paw-pads into it’s stomach, desperately hoping he could revive it.
The kit remained still. A cold grip seized Rippletail’s heart as he realized he had failed. But, just as he was about to give up, a mouthful of water spurted from the tiny kit’s mouth and it began writhing in pain.
Relief mixed with concern as Rippletail fell to the ground beside the poor soaked kit. His heart lurched as he realized it was bleeding. Blood spilled from the kit’s leg, staining it’s pure white fur. He would have to wrap it in cobwebs later, but there was no doubt the poor kit would have a scar. He began riddling the puny thing with licks to warm it, worried it might die of freezing. Rippletail certainly felt like he would.
But as he licked, he got his first clear smell of it. And, even though most of it was thoroughly washed away, there was still the lingering scents of ThunderClan, and an extremely faded, yet fresh, ShadowClan scent.
He looked down at the wailing ThunderClan kit, and suddenly his heart filled with tenderness. He became suddenly attached to the little thing. All of a sudden, he didn’t want to return the kit to ThunderClan. He couldn’t return her to the paws of the clan that had lost her in the stream. They weren’t fit to take care of her.
Rippletail straightened his back in a firm resolve. He wasn’t taking this kit back to ThunderClan.
***
“Rippletail, what in StarClan are you doing?” Dawnflower inquired the tabby tom curiously.
The pale-gray queen swept her tail gently over her kits as she spoke. Rippletail looked up at her nervously. Rippletail had snuck into the nursery den, hiding the kit behind him, still dripping wet.
“Y-You have room for… For another kit, don’t you?” He stuttered.
Dawnflower blinked in surprise. “I… I suppose so, why on earth do you ask?”
Rippletail hesitated, and then revealed a tiny white kit, drenched to the bone.
“My StarClan!” Dawnflower exclaimed.
“I pulled her from the river, when I was fishing…” Rippletail explained, staring down at his paws.
Dawnflower’s gaze softened. “Rippletail, this kit is clearly from another clan-”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing!” The gray tom interrupted the gentle queen. “She smells of both ShadowClan and ThunderClan! I heard some nasty stuff going on around their territories, and I don’t think RiverClan has any business getting involved.”
“So you’re suggesting we just keep it?” Dawnflower blurted.
Rippletail frowned. “Well, I… Look, Dawnflower, I don’t like the way this kit is being treated if she ends up half drowned in a river; dead if I hadn’t saved her! And with whatever this war is that’s going on… I just think she’d be safer here. Besides, you wouldn’t mind another kit, would you?”
The pale gray queen’s gaze clouded with pain, and Rippletail regretted his choice of words. But Dawnflower looked down at Pixiekit, and her eyes filled with empathy. She nodded slowly, and Rippletail eagerly brought Pixiekit over to her to feed.
***
“Mother,” the tiny white kit squeaked, her large blue eyes troubled. “Why do the other cats look at me like that?” The young kit questioned her mother, Dawnflower, in response to a glare from Blackclaw.
It had started that afternoon, when Pixiekit had seen Blackclaw talking to Mistyfoot and Voletooth. Curious as she was, the young kit took a break from playing with her siblings Darkkit and Emberkit and her friend Stormykit to listen to what the important clan warriors were talking about. But when she approached (attempting to be stealthy), Blackclaw had snapped at her to mind her own business. Pixiekit had nodded and run off in terror, but she was rather hurt by his cruel response. She hadn’t expected him to be so angry, and especially not so mean.
The way Blackclaw had looked at Pixiekit made her shiver with both dread and discomfort. The look in his eyes was full of contempt, and… hatred. And it was not the first time she had seen it. It was almost as if she was a misfortune, a burden, to them. Some of them at least. It made Pixiekit squirm as she waited for her loving mother’s reply.
Dawnflower hesitated, an angry gleam hardening her eyes. She would not meet Pixiekit’s gaze, but instead glared at the ground beyond her. The reaction made Pixiekit feel even more uncomfortable. What had she done to bring on the anger of her clan? And why did it anger her own mother to think about?
Dawnflower turned to look at her kit at last, her green eyes much softer now. “Oh, my dear Pixiekit… You know that we love you, and each and everyone knows you will be a great warrior one day,” she began. Something in her tone made a sneaking curiosity wriggle in her belly, but her mother continued before Pixiekit could ask. “So you need not pay any heed for those of us who think any less of you.” Dawnflower’s eyes hardened again as she spoke.
Pixiekit’s eyes widened. “Y-You mean, Blackclaw thinks I’m not-”
“What he thinks has no concern to anyone in the least. Needless to say, whatever he thinks is merely misguided,” Dawnflower cut her off dismissively.
Pixiekit lowered her head, still unsure. She had seen many cats look at her the way Blackclaw did, and if they did so for the reason Dawnflower said…
“Am I different?” Pixiekit blurted, surprising herself. But she felt this resounding from somewhere deep inside her, and she just had to confide in her mother.
Dawnflower swung her shocked gaze to Pixiekit, stunned for a moment. Her eyes clouded with an unreadable emotion, but somewhere deep inside them, Pixiekit thought she saw a flicker of fear. Dawnflower averted her eyes, and stared away for another long moment, and then shut her eyes and sighed. “Of course not.”
Pixiekit was slightly alarmed by her short response. After Dawnflower’s odd reaction, she expected something bigger out of her mother.
The fluffy kit was not satisfied. “But… I keep seeing cats look at me like I’m some sort of problem! Like I’ve done something to anger them! And… and I don’t look like anyone…” Pixiekit finally voiced the discrepancy that had haunted her since the day she was born.
There wasn’t a single cat in RiverClan, not even her mother; that had white fur, let alone as fluffy as her’s was. She looked up hesitantly at her mother, dreading her response, but also deeply longing for it. She needed an answer, even if it wasn’t one she liked.
Dawnflower leaned over and gave Pixiekit a lick between the ears. “Alright. I’ll tell you if you must know,” her mother meowed softly.
Pixiekit brightened expectantly. Dawnflower shifted on her paws and blinked a few times.
She heaved a sigh and began. “Your, birth-mother was a kittypet.”
Pixiekit let out a mew of surprise. This was not something she had expected to hear, but she had to admit, it explained a lot.
She looked up attentively as Dawnflower continued, “We met by Greenleaf Twolegplace. She was only a half-moon along then, nearly the same as me. Her mate had left her, and she was lost from her Twoleg nest. I had to help her out. So we continued meeting in secret for some time,” she explained, and Pixiekit hung on to every detail, not daring to interrupt with questions.
“I knew it was against the code, but I couldn’t help myself. She was such a kind-hearted kittypet. When I we were both around a moon and a half along, she begged me to take her kits when they were born. I agreed, and when Darkkit and Emberkit were born, I sent Rippletail to keep my promise.” Dawnflower paused. “Rippletail returned with you, and told me your mother had died in her kitting.” Pixiekit looked up at her mother in shock. She expected to find sorrow in her mother’s eyes in remembering the loss of her friend, but to her surprise, Pixiekit found nothing.
Dawnflower continued telling of how a few RiverClan cats never truly accepted Pixiekit because of her kittypet blood, but most of them still loved her for who she was, and all Pixiekit needed to do was prove she was a worthy warrior, even with her kittypet blood. Then, cats like Blackclaw would accept her.
“But for now, all that matters is you are my kit, and you are a loyal RiverClan cat. They will realise that someday, but until then, hold your head high and don’t let them discourage you.” Pixiekit saw something in Dawnflower’s gaze that suggested a different meaning to her words, but Pixiekit didn’t bother to pry any further.
The fluffy kit nodded and thanked her mother, prancing back to join her siblings.
“What were you talking to Dawnflower for?” Emberkit pried, her eyes lit up with curiosity.
Darkkit bounced away from Pebblekit and Stormykit to join them, equally intrigued. Pixiekit looked at the both of them; Emberkit’s black pelt and Darkkit’s cloudy dark gray one. Then she glanced back at her own pure white fur. Nothing about herself and her siblings was the same.
She lifted her head again to study their dark amber eyes, wishing with all her heart they were truly kin. But we’re denmates! And friends! That can’t change because of blood, could it?
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Emberkit blinked, shoving her muzzle in Pixiekit’s face. “You look scared or something.”
“Pixiekit, is this about Blackclaw being mean to you? Because I told you I’ll claw his muzzle off!” Darkkit vowed, unsheathing his puny claws and glaring at the earth.
Pixiekit shook her head. “It’s not him, it’s me. I’m… a kittypet,” the fluffy kit mewed, lowering her ears in shame.
Darkkit and Emberkit stood still; uncomprehending. “What do you mean?” Darkkit asked. “You’re our sister!”
But Pixiekit shook her head again, her vision blurring. “I thought I was… I wish I was… But I’m a kittypet’s daughter. Dawnflower said so. That’s why Blackclaw hates me!” the sorrowful white kit squeaked, digging her claws into the dirt.
Darkkit took a step back, his eyes gleaming with disbelief. But Emberkit didn’t back down. “No, you’re wrong! You are our sister. Wherever you came from doesn’t change that! Right, Darkkit?” The black she-kit turned to confirm with her brother.
Pixiekit held her breath as Darkkit’s eyes glistened uncertainly, but he set his jaw. “Yeah. You’re here with us, not in some comfy Twoleg nest. Who cares where you came from!” he declared confidently.
Pixiekit blinked at her siblings gratefully, but Voletooth’s blazing orange stare caught her eye. She was trapped in the menacing depths of his tawny glare for many heartbeats before tearing away.
With a deep sigh she shuddered away the lingering contempt from the brown tom’s eyes and sighed. “Yeah… But not every cat thinks so…”
Chapter 5
“Pixiepaw, get over here! We’re on hunting patrol, remember?”
“Coming, Minnowtail!” The young apprentice squeaked as she stumbled out of bed.
Minnowtail glowered at her apprentice irritably, and the white she-cat mewed in apology. The gray-and-white warrior sighed. “How about we head over to the stream, now?”
“Sure!” Pixiepaw replied enthusiastically, and padded off in that direction.
“Hey, Pixiepaw!” A voice called sneeringly; stopping the white she-cat in her tracks.
The fluffy apprentice turned to the once friendly face of Stormypaw. Ever since the dappled gray she-cat had found out about Pixiepaw’s kittypet origins, she had made every attempt to mention it as much as possible.
The snarky apprentice hated her for not being clan-born, and despite what Darkpaw had said many moons before; Pixiepaw knew her foster brother resented that too. Stormypaw’s friendship with Pixiepaw’s littermates had only increased Darkpaw’s hatred for kittypets, and for that, Pixiepaw hated Stormypaw.
“I bet I’ll catch more fish than you, kittypet!” Stormypaw taunted. “But I guess that’ll be easy since you fall in the river before you catch anything.”
Pixiepaw bristled at the jab at her fishing skills; mostly because she knew it was true. “Shut up, fox-dung! You only catch fish ‘cause they swim right into your filthy mouth!” she growled bitterly at the slender she-cat.
“That’s enough you two!” Minnowtail snapped at the two apprentices, and Pixiepaw lowered her head in shame. “Pixiepaw, I think you need some space to cool your head. Why don’t you try hunting by Greenleaf Twolegplace for a while?”
Her mentor’s suggestion sent a wave of shame through Pixiepaw’s thick pelt. She had gone too far. Pelt prickling in disappointment and anger, Pixiepaw turned to leave.
“Have fun catching ThunderClan prey, mouse-brain,” Stormypaw hissed under her breath; prompting Pixiepaw to growl once more before padding miserably away.
***
Pixiepaw stiffened in a crouched position, carefully watching a vole sniffing at brambles. She tensed as the vole drew nearer, not yet sensing her presence. She waited another moment, and then leaped. Unfortunately, her tail had swished into a branch of dry leaves, and the vole squeaked loudly as it narrowly escaped its death. Pixiepaw hissed under her breath. That vole’s squeak would have scared off the whole area’s prey. If she wanted to catch anything in the next while, she’d have to catch this vole.
Angry now, Pixiepaw turned on her front paws and bolted after her escaping prey. The fat rodent lumbered away in a panic as she gained ground. Her muscles tensed and claws unsheathed, Pixiepaw pounced, landing directly on top of the vole, breaking it’s back.
In a rush of triumph, she picked up the vole in her mouth and tossed it in the air, watching it fall with a thump to the ground. Pixiepaw took a deep breath and was suddenly taken aback by a strong scent that sent fear rippling through her fur. ShadowClan! Had she crossed the border?
Suddenly anxious, she searched her surroundings. With a sigh of relief, she realized she had not. She was, however; a fox-length away from it. Chasing that vole had nearly led her right over the border! Pixiepaw had already come carelessly close in her hunting earlier. She scolded herself to be more careful.
But as she began to turn away, she was filled with alarm. All of a sudden she scented a ShadowClan cat, but the scent was so strong it could only mean…
“Oh, hello,” a voice spoke from right next to Pixiepaw.
Pixiepaw jumped up, hackles raised and claws unsheathed. She hissed as she turned to face the ShadowClan intruder.
He did not appear as she expected. Some of Pixiepaw’s worst memories, her worst nightmares; were of ShadowClan cats. She imagined them as evil, yellow-eyed, black-furred, hostile fox-hearts, but this cat was quite the contrary. He was a ginger tom with a kind gleam in his emerald green eyes. He did however have many scars; one of the more notable ones was the nick out of his left ear. But nonetheless, he didn’t look threatening.
His appearance caught her off guard that she hesitated a moment, before hissing again. “What are you doing on ThunderClan territory!?” she spat.
"Woah, woah, easy there, fluffball! Don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?” The ginger tom’s eyes sparkled mischievously.
“Just because I’m fluffy, doesn’t mean I can’t rip you to shreds, intruder! I’m not some kit you know, I’ve been an apprentice for nearly two moons now!” Pixiepaw growled, annoyed by his jab at her fluffy pelt. It had been a lifelong pain, forcing Pixiepaw to constantly prove herself a warrior and not some kittypet joke.
But the tom purred in amusement. “I never thought different,” he replied.
Pixiepaw hesitated again, unsure of what to do. Intruders weren’t suppose to just sit there and poke fun at you, they were supposed to attack! Pixiepaw shifted her eyes uncertainly, waiting for him to unsheathe his claws and pounce.
He tilted his head and smiled at her. “What’s the matter? I thought you were going to tear me to shreds?” he asked, a fun twinkle in his eyes.
Pixiepaw’s shoulders tensed in annoyance. “Don’t think I still won’t!” she retorted, becoming more and more unsure of herself.
“Right, right,” the ShadowClan tom nodded. “‘Cause you’re a vicious snowball!”
Pixiepaw rolled her crystal blue eyes to StarClan. But she stopped, suddenly curious. “Snowball? Is that what you call… a ball of snow?” she asked, confused. It sounded like kittypet talk.
The ginger tom shifted his eyes, suddenly uncomfortable.
Pixiepaw became even more confused. “What? What’s the-” Pixiepaw’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh! Are you a kittypet!?” she exclaimed.
The tom’s face contorted in disgust. “What, no! Of course not!” he objected angrily.
“Oh… Then, are you a rogue?” The curious she-cat revised.
The tom shifted his gaze again.
Pixiepaw stepped toward him curiously. “So, you are a rogue? From ShadowClan? What are you doing here? Why’d you leave? Did they treat you bad? Is it true that they-”
“Hey! Since when did you care so much about the who and why of an intruder? Yeah I’m a rogue, so what? Aren’t you supposed to chase me off now?” The rogue tom snapped.
Pixiepaw flinched away from him. “I-I’m sorry… I was just curious…”
The rogue sighed. “Not everyone becomes a rogue by choice you know. There wasn’t anything terrible about my clan, they’re just misunderstood, you know? Everything’s not always so black and white.”
Pixiepaw blinked hesitantly, then nodded uncertainly.
The rogue sighed again, defeatedly, and continued, “You’re right I’m a ShadowClan rogue, but not because they treated me bad or anything. They were perfectly fine clanmates, especially my mentor. He’s been- He… He trained me for almost four moons before I was banished,” The young tom choked on his grief, and Pixiepaw suddenly felt bad for him.
“But, if they were such great clanmates, why would they just kick you out like that? That’s not fair!” Pixiepaw remarked indignantly.
The tom shook his head. “They weren’t being unfair, it was beyond them, I... It’s just… I’m apparently a mix of clan blood.”
Pixiepaw’s eyes flew open. “What!?” she blurted before she could stop herself.
The white she-cat couldn’t help it, mixed clan blood could only mean massive disregard for the warrior code. Pixiepaw’s curiosity was buzzing out of control as she thought about what ShadowClan cat would so scandalously provoke the anger of StarClan.
The loner tom shut his eyes in irritation. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but who my parents are, and what they did is honestly none of your business.”
Pixiepaw’s ears flattened at the tom’s harsh words, but she grudgingly conceded that he was right. It was not her place to go sticking her muzzle into another cat’s affairs.
The tom continued, “All you need to know is: that’s why I was kicked out,” he finished, a flicker of pain crossing his face. Pixiepaw felt another pang of sympathy for the young rogue.
The two cats stood awkwardly swishing their tails for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.
The rogue tom broke the silence with a sharp intake of breath and blinked his eyes. “Well, I guess I should be going, don’t want any of mine or your clan cats to find me here. You maybe wanna chase me out of here? You know, so it doesn’t look like you let me go?” he suggested.
Pixiepaw looked around, tasting the air for any cats nearby. Finding nothing, she shook her head, gesturing for the tom to leave.
“No use in that, no one would see me anyway,” Pixiepaw paused, debating whether to continue. “W-where are you going? Do you have a place to stay?” she asked innocently.
The ginger tom paused, and then shook his head. “I guess I live in the wild now,” he sighed finally, his face grim in recession.
Pixiepaw felt surprisingly saddened at the thought of him going. Suddenly she realized she didn’t want him to leave. What if he joined RiverClan? The she-cat’s eyes lit up at the thought. Surely her clan would welcome him given his pitiful circumstance, and he certainly looked like he’d be open to joining. He didn’t seem the loner type.
But as she opened her mouth to speak, the glimmer-eyed tom cut her off. “Hey, before I go, do you mind telling me your name?” he said.
Pixiepaw blinked rapidly, caught off-guard. “O-oh, um, Pixiepaw,” she replied.
He smiled and nodded to her, turning around to leave. “Pixiepaw, got it. Well, goodbye then, Pixiepaw! Nice to meet a vicious snowball like you!” And he bounded off.
Pixiepaw was left sufficiently flustered, and couldn’t seem to stop blinking. “H-hey wait! You, you didn’t tell me your name!” she managed in a panic.
The ginger rogue smirked over his shoulder. “Ivypaw! But I’ll go by Ivy now! Bye, Snowball!”
The white she-cat’s pelt flared with irritation and embarrassment. She was so bewildered that she just barely remembered what she was going to ask him. Pixiepaw called after him, but it was too late. Ivy was gone.
Pixiepaw walked slowly back to camp, her tail drooping. She felt too dejected to hunt.
When she got back to camp, Minnowtail asked her what was eating her, but she decided not to tell anyone. Ivy would be her secret, and hers alone.
Sorry there's such a long intro into the main story, but it's mostly over now. If you have any helpful tips on how to format and use this website properly, I'd really appreciate it. As well as reviews or comments about the story so far, I'd really like to know.
Chapter 6
Ivy looked up at the clear blue sky, wishing he was home. A single cloud hovered above, and the young tom’s mind drifted to the scene many moons ago, when he ran into that fluffy white apprentice. Pixiepaw. She would be a warrior now, maybe even with an apprentice of her own.
It was so long ago, it seemed, and yet Ivy could remember it perfectly. Her adorably hostile attitude, her warm purr, and gentle crystal blue eyes. His heart ached as he imaged the she-cat’s face, her precious fluffiness, and the way she ruffled her fur when he teased her…
Ivy shook his head. He couldn’t think of that now. He was a rogue, and she was a clan cat. She had a family, a place where she belonged, while he had nothing.
Ivy looked down at his paws, his heart swelling with sorrow. He longed for that life again, to have friends, kin, a clan.
A mate.
The ginger tom flopped on the ground and flattened his ears. It could never be. Even if he were to be accepted by his clan again, he couldn’t be with her. It was against warrior code to see someone from another clan, he knew that well.
Suddenly, a thought came to mind. It hit him with such force that he perked up. My father. The source of his many wounds, his turmoil, his banishment... His mother’s death.
Memories flooded back to the young tom, so strongly that he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block them out. But they wouldn’t stop.
There he was again. Whirling around in the middle of a skirmish. It was a RiverClan invasion, over something stupid like a border-crossing. His home, the ShadowClan camp, was filled with the screeches of warriors, and the scent of enemies.
Ivypaw had done his best to fight them off with his clan. He had just finished clawing the eyes of another RiverClan apprentice, when a RiverClan warrior charged towards him. He was a large, muscular, dark ginger tom with dark stripes from his muzzle to his tail. His amber eyes were filled with rage and exhilaration from the battle.
He was heading straight for Ivypaw, his muscles tensed for action. Ivypaw was suddenly paralyzed with fear, with not a clue as to why. The large dark ginger tom reared up and held up a paw to strike, and Ivypaw still did nothing to avoid him.
That was when it happened.
Ivypaw heard his mother’s voice crying out in horror. “Autumnfur, No!”
The dark ginger tom stopped in his tracks, and looked over to her, his eyes flashing with plain fear. At that moment, Ivypaw hadn’t understood a thing that was happening. The large tom just froze and stared at his mother, and they shared a look Ivypaw hadn’t been able to interpret.
Unfortunately, Blackstar apparently did. At this point, ShadowClan had regained the upperhand, and in any other situation, that would have been the end of it. Instead, as the rest of RiverClan escaped back to their territory, the ShadowClan warriors surrounded Ivypaw, the brown tom, and Ivypaw’s mother, Tallpoppy.
That was they day Ivypaw learned that the RiverClan cat was his father, and they day he lost both of them and his clan for good.
Ivy unsheathed his claws and gripped the earth in fury. Hatred seethed inside him for Blackstar, and his deputy Russetfur. They were the ones responsible for killing his parents, and for banishing him from the clan. His pelt blazed in outrage as he remembered the cruel gleam in Blackstar’s eyes when he ignored all that Tallpoppy had done for the clan, and all of her innocence and kindness. She had never done ShadowClan any harm. But he offered her no mercy, and instead heartlessly spilled her blood at his feet.
Ivy tightened his grip and fought away the moisture welling up in his eyes. Blackstar felt no remorse. As long as he or Russetfur was in charge, he could never return to ShadowClan.
But RiverClan, his father’s clan, may be willing to welcome him. And if they did… Ivy trembled in excitement at the thought of joining the same clan as that precious snowball.
That settles it then! Pixiepaw, I’m coming! He thought.
***
Pixieflight scampered through the tall grass near the small Thunderpath. Around her the sky shone a bright blue and the wind ruffled through her fur. A songbird tweeted in the distance. Her apprentice, Wildpaw, huffed and puffed, struggling to keep up with her pace.
Pixieflight smiled warmly at the young she-cat, intrusted to her care less than a moon ago. Wildpaw was a quirky little she-cat, with thin, woolly fur; a soft, gray-white colour that appeared pink in the evening light. She wasn’t in the best of shape yet, and she was a bit of an awkward hunter, but that would all change with training. Or at least, that’s what Pixieflight hoped.
It was a lot of pressure, being given her first apprentice. She was the one expected to whip Wildpaw into shape, but Pixieflight had no idea if she could do it.
“Alright, we’ll stop here,” Pixieflight called to the young shorthair, who was lagging behind.
Wildpaw didn’t hesitate to follow orders. She stilled her paws and gulped in deep breaths, her yellow eyes wide open and diluted.
“Man, you need to lay off the fish and join more patrols,” Pixieflight teased jokingly, brushing her apprentices back with her tail.
Wildpaw inhaled deeply. “S-sorry…” she managed.
Pixieflight’s eyes narrowed. Sure, she knew Wildpaw was out of shape, but she didn’t know she was this bad. Their pace hadn’t been to extreme, Pixieflight had been careful not to set the bar too high too fast.
“Hey, do you want to head back and rest some?” Pixieflight asked, trying not to betray her concern for her apprentice.
But Wildpaw shook her head. “No, no… I’m fine. And besides, the clan needs prey,” she replied simply, no longer out of breath, but still weary.
Pixieflight nodded hesitantly, then gestured towards a clump of tall grass to hide in while stalking their prey.
As they walked over to it, Wildpaw spoke up, “Hey, why do you never take me to the river to catch fish? I’ve never even seen you come back with one before.”
Pixieflight stiffened. She had hoped no one would notice this. The truth was, Pixieflight was a horrible fisher. Throughout her entire apprenticeship, she never caught more than three fish until the day of her assessment, and she was still terrible at it. As much as she could, she avoided the river and chose to hunt the fields instead. Pixieflight hadn’t even realized Wildpaw would find this odd until she brought it up, and now she was ashamed to reveal the reason.
“Oh, Um…” Pixieflight paused, searching for some excuse. “... I don’t know, I just don’t prefer the taste of fish. I’ll make sure you’re taught how to catch fish in the river soon, don’t worry.” Pixieflight secretly plotted to have one of the other warrior’s take Wildpaw to the river whist she pretended to be busy.
Wildpaw scrunched up her nose. “You don’t like fish? But… You’re a RiverClan cat, how can you not like fish?” she asked, as if the thought repelled her.
Pixieflight flicked her tail in annoyance. “Just because I’m RiverClan doesn’t mean I automatically enjoy river-food. That’s not how it works,” she snapped.
Pixieflight regretted her harshness when her apprentice flattened her ears in shame.
As Wildpaw mumbled an apology, Pixieflight ran her tail down her back affectionately.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you, you were just asking a question,” Pixieflight gave her apprentice a quick lick between the ears, and then signaled her into a crouch.
Chapter 7
Pixieflight had to commend her apprentice in that regard. Though she wasn’t the fittest of cats, she had a determined concentration that the other apprentices could only dream of.
If only it translated into skill… Pixiepaw frowned in concern at the thought. Wildpaw was certainly trying as hard as she could, but this mouse was already the second attempt this afternoon at catching prey. She just couldn’t seem to get a grasp of the hunting techniques. Pixieflight blamed herself for being a bad mentor, but something seemed to be preventing her apprentice from toning her skills.
Pixieflight kept telling herself it took practice and discipline; something she was expected to give to Wildpaw, but a nagging feeling of insecurity told her she wasn’t good enough to teach her. Nothing Pixieflight was doing seemed to help the young apprentice at all, and Pixieflight found herself wallowing in incompetence.
Suddenly, the white she-cat’s heart gave a jolt as the grey apprentice shot into the sky in the direction of her prey.
Pixieflight’s eyes widened as she followed Wildpaw’s leap, her hope soaring. But it was crushed as she realized her start had not been strong enough.
Wildpaw landed just half a whisker’s length from the mouse, and it scampered off with a squeal loud enough to wake the prey within five dog’s lengths of the area. Pixieflight moaned, putting her muzzle in her paws. Why couldn’t she teach her apprentice anything?
A few moments later, Wildpaw approached Pixieflight meekly, her eyes swelling with horror and shame. Pixieflight walked up, her tail dragging to meet her.
“Haven’t I taught you to measure your leap before you jump!? I know you could’ve done that, even a kit knows how!” Pixieflight meowed in exasperation, her defeat making her words harsh.
Wildpaw squirmed under her mentor’s distressed gaze. “I’m sorry, Pixieflight… I thought I had it, I just… Jumped wrong,” she mewled uncomfortably.
Pixieflight looked up at her final words. She narrowed her eyes and then sighed.
“Your crouch is a little off. We’ll work on that instead,” she decided.
A little later, after crouching and stalking lessons, and three attempts at Wildpaw catching prey; Pixieflight decided to head back. Each try had lead them further and further into the field, and closer and closer to ShadowClan territory until they were finally ready to give up.
But just as they were walking back to camp, they were joined by Pouncetail and Voletooth along with Pouncetail’s apprentice, Flintpaw.
“How did you two do out here?” Pouncetail called to them.
Wildpaw lowered her head, while Pixieflight ruffled her fur in embarrassment. She could feel their stares burning through her like the hot rays of the sun. She hardly needed them to reminder that she had failed to mentor her apprentice enough to catch a single piece prey.
Pixieflight felt a deep sympathy for Wildpaw, and was indignant at the continued staring from her clanmates. Couldn’t they see she had tried her best? Wildpaw was still just beginning her training, why couldn’t they have a little grace?
Pixieflight’s fur tingled angrily as she remembered her own training. The other cats always seemed to be staring. As if they were watching her closely, just waiting for her to screw up. As if it would prove something if she did. Why are they always staring!? It was like they wanted her to mess up.
Pixieflight suddenly realised why. It’s because of my kittypet blood. Everyone in RiverClan was waiting for Pixieflight to fail; to give up, so that they would be right about kittypets not being true warriors. As if she was proof to them that all kittypets were failures as warriors, and that they don’t belong in clans. Well, I’ll show them!
Pixieflight was just about ready to explode, but then Pouncetail’s words quieted her anger. “Not too well, I’m guessing,” he remarked. “It’s alright, you can’t win them all. Just try again next time,” he nodded to Wildpaw.
Pixieflight scolded her inner voices that drove her to extreme conclusions, and nodded respectfully to Pouncetail. But still, deep inside her, she felt her conclusions were not all wrong. Even if not Pouncetail, she knew many RiverClan cats thought that way about her. She would just have to prove to them that they were wrong.
After a small discussion, the RiverClan cats decided to return to camp. However; just as they turned to leave, Pixieflight froze. As she did so, Pouncetail and Voletooth followed suit. The apprentices caught on late as a foreign scent reached their noses at last, and they perked up too.
Pouncetail tensed and a growl rumbled in his throat. They all smelled a cat with an odd scent mixed with many foreign odors, but the base of it’s scent was certain: ShadowClan.
Pixieflight flicked her ears uncertainly. For some reason, even though the intruder smelled of ShadowClan, her hackles remained unraised. Somehow she knew the mysterious ShadowClan intruder’s scent as non-threatening…
“Don’t! I’m not attacking you,” a gruff voice meowed from behind a patch of brambles.
Pixieflight blinked in shock. She knew that voice! As if to confirm her suspicions, the semi-familiar pelt of the ginger tom from many moons ago slipped out from among the brambles; his emerald eyes gleaming playfully, just as Pixieflight remembered them.
With a burst of excitement, Pixieflight forgot herself. “You!” she blurted.
All eyes swung to Pixieflight, confusion filling them. The shimmering green of the rogue ginger tom met hers, causing her heart to skip a beat.
There was a moment of silence, and then the rogue spoke.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Chapter 8
As he drew closer, he smelled a different cat he didn’t recognize. Ivy came to the conclusion that he was right, and that she had an apprentice after all. He felt a surge of pride for the fluffy young she-cat. He had seen it in her eyes when he teased her that she had been used to rebuke, and again when he told her of his exile from his clan. There had been more than curiosity in those eyes. There was a deep sympathy that could only come from experience.
Somehow, Pixiepaw had known what Ivy was going through, and that only brought him closer to the lovely she-cat in his mind. As he entered RiverClan territory, his paws ached with a longing that he had never known before, and he continued on towards Pixiepaw’s scent with a new determination.
When he approached a batch of brambles, he heard her voice. Ivy scented her among many other cats. He paused, unsure of how to proceed. He didn’t want to burst out and startle them; risking an attack, but Ivy didn’t know how to get their attention without inviting hostility.
However, that problem was solved for him. In Ivy’s moment of hesitation, the cat’s scented him, and he heard hisses and growls from their direction. In a panic, his mind whirled thinking of how to respond so that they wouldn’t tear him to shreds.
Not wanting to waste too much time and risk their assumptions, he blurted out, “Don’t!” he paused for a moment, “I’m not attacking you,” Ivy tried not to betray either fear or hostility, prayed to StarClan it would be enough, and slithered out from his hiding place behind the brambles.
The moment Ivy came out into the clearing, he saw her. Even though she was now fully grown, he recognised Pixiepaw immediately. The ginger tom suppressed a purr that began rumbling in his throat, and forced himself not to speak a word to her in the presence of her clanmates.
He almost broke, however; when she turned her beautiful blue eyes on his and blurted her recognition of him. Ivy longed to greet the fluffy she-cat warmly, and tell her all about his journeys and how much he had dreamed to see her again, but he kept silent for her sake.
Instead he forced himself to turn to her and simply state, “Do I know you?”
He watched Pixiepaw’s eyes flood with confusion, and then a flicker of hurt crossed them, and she broke eye contact with him. “No,” she meowed. “I guess not.”
Ivy flinched with regret, but he knew he couldn’t say anything. Not yet; not until they were alone together. For now, Ivy turned to her clanmates and took a deep breath to prepare himself. Now he had to figure out how to join RiverClan.
“Well, I don’t care if I know you, I just want to know what you’re doing on RiverClan territory, and why you smell like a ShadowClan warrior!” Voletooth growled.
Pouncetail yowled his agreement, and Ivy flinched at their open hostility. This was going to be a bit tougher than he expected. He ruffled his fur and sized up to the RiverClan warriors.
“I am a ShadowClan rogue, but I have no ties with them,” Ivy declared.
Voletooth bared his fangs, “And why should we believe you?” he spat. Voletooth took an advancing step towards Ivy with his claws unsheathed.
Ivy shut his eyes and took a breath to control himself. “Because they killed my mother,” he took a pause, noticing every cat freeze awkwardly. Then he continued, “My father, too. And they did so… because my father was a RiverClan warrior,” he finished.
The six RiverClan cats before Ivy started in disbelief as he shared the details of his parents and their affair. They stood staring at one another in silence as they processed what they had been told.
Ivy couldn’t help but notice Pixiepaw’s ear twitch as the she-cat heard him speak. Her eyes glittered with curiosity and suspicion. Ivy remembered he had chosen not to tell Pixiepaw about his parents, and this was the first time she was hearing the full story.
It was Voletooth who spoke up first. “Do you mean to tell me, that Autumnfur was your father?” There was a hostile edge to the older warrior’s tone, but his voice was hoarse with shock.
Ivy could see in the brown tabby’s eyes he had known Ivy’s father well. “Yes,” he replied to him simply, wanting to be gentle with his father’s friend.
He knew it would hurt any RiverClan cat to know that Autumnfur had broken the warrior code so much. He felt a pang of remorse as he realized he was damaging his dead father’s reputation within his clan. They probably all remembered him as a great and honorable warrior.
Pouncetail spoke this time. “So what is it that you want, bringing us this news about our departed clanmate? You smell like a rogue; I reckon you’ve been one for quite sometime. What made you decide to come here now?” the ginger and white tabby tom challenged, and Flintpaw growled in similar mistrust.
Ivy paused. He could not reveal his ulterior motive; shooting a flickering glance at Pixiepaw, so instead he went with the basic truth. “I never desired to be an outcast, I was forced into being one. For a long time I travelled on my own, seeking to find myself, and get over my loss. But I failed,” Ivy choked on his words, remembering his lonely days, walking the endless plains, desperately searching for a comfort, a home, that could not be found. “I eventually realized I couldn’t bear to live on my own, and then I remembered my father…” Ivy trailed off.
“And so you came here, to RiverClan,” Voletooth finished his thought. He grunted, shaking his head at nothing in particular. “I’m sure Leopardstar will take you. She’ll take anyone these days,” he sighed dismissively, flicking his tail in annoyance.
Ivy noticed Pixiepaw bristle in the corner of his vision, rage barely concealed in her eyes. The ginger tom wondered what in that comment had set her off like that. But before he could think on it much, Voletooth and Pouncetail beckoned him to follow them to RiverClan’s camp.
As they approached the camp, Ivy looked around at his father’s home. The sharp, fresh smell of pine filled the rogue cat’s nose as he gazed at the giant looming evergreens. Sparkles of sunlight seeped through the closely packed needles, and filled the area with a magical air. The ground beneath Ivy’s paws was damp and cold, laden with fallen needles and smooth stones.
The entire territory seemed to be drowsy as the afternoon edged on towards evening. In front of him; Ivy pretended not to notice Flintpaw lean toward Wildpaw and whisper in her ear, stealing a glance back at the rogue tom as he did so. There was no doubt the young apprentice was not completely on board with his elder mentor’s decision, and Ivy could see that the young apprentices were discussing their own opinion.
Wildpaw angled her head as she spoke softly back to Flintpaw, and Ivy was glad to see some sensible sympathy in the young she-cat’s eyes. Unlike Flintpaw, Wildpaw did not rudely glance at Ivy as she spoke, but instead ended her sentence with a long blink and a flick of her tail. Ivy was beginning to like Pixiepaw’s apprentice.
“Just a little further now,” Pouncetail reported, not even looking over his shoulder at the guest he was escorting.
Ivy stole a glance at Pixiepaw. He wondered suddenly what her warrior name was now. He supposed he should stop thinking of her with an apprentice name. After all, she had an apprentice of her own!
The ginger tom watched the fluffy white she cat swish her tail back and forth and she walked briskly beside him; her eyes focused dead ahead.
Ivy felt a painful tug at his heart again. He had really hurt her when he pretended not to recognise her, and now she refused to even look at him. She probably thought she didn’t mean anything to Ivy. She thinks I really don’t remember her!
He was aghast at the thought; of course he remembered Pixiepaw. After the conversation they had, and the fact it was the last one Ivy had had with another cat until now, there was no way he could have forgotten.
But now she thinks I did! Ivy set his jaw firmly; deciding that as soon as he could, he would tell her the truth. The very first moment he had the chance.
Ivy’s thoughts were interrupted when his guides stopped short. The rogue looked up again at his surroundings, and was faced with a large and busy clearing that was clearly the RiverClan camp. As the ginger rogue stood at the entrance of the bustling camp, a few heads started to turn in his direction. Soon, nearly all eyes were on Ivy.
The ginger tom shifted his paws nervously, wishing they wouldn’t just stare like that. Ivy’s escorts stood their silently; suddenly the centre of RiverClan’s attention. A couple cats narrowed their eyes, while two apprentices discussed suspiciously with each other.
Finally, someone blurted, “Who’s this you’ve brought, Pouncetail?”
“Did you approve of this Voletooth?” It was Reedwhisker who spoke, his gaze openly scornful as he looked Ivy over.
Voletooth merely grunted in response, and padded over to Leopardstar’s den.
Pouncetail stared Reedwhisker down, a challenge flaring in his eyes. “He’s a rogue, but he’s come here claiming to have RiverClan blood,” he answered, addressing the whole clan, rather than Reedwhisker.
“RiverClan blood!?” Blackclaw exclaimed, approaching the warriors and Ivy with Leopardstar, Mistyfoot, and Voletooth. “How can a rogue claim to have RiverClan blood when none of our warriors know him?” The bristling black tom continued.
“Silence!” Leopardstar snapped at the large warrior. The RiverClan leader turned her attention to Ivy. “Does the rogue have an explanation for us?” she inquired.
Ivy swallowed nervously and faced up to the towering spotted she-cat. He explained his story again to her; afraid every second that the RiverClan leader would snap at him for daring to claim Autumnfur broke the warrior code, and then drive him from the territory. But to his surprise, she stayed silent, eyeing him steadily and nodding a few times.
Other cats around him, however; yowled their convictions at the ginger tom, and were similarly shot down by the RiverClan leader.
When Ivy finished, Leopardstar nodded again. “I suspected something like that from him. Autumnfur would often come back to camp reeking of stench, or otherwise thoroughly washed. I didn’t confront him for it, since I had no real proof. And even so, he was never gone when we needed him, and I had other issues on hand,” the spotted she-cat added meaningfully, referring to the ShadowClan threat that had sparked the raid on their territory; where Autumnfur had died.
Reedwhisker stepped forward in surprise. “Leopardstar, do you mean to say Autumnfur really was a traitor?” the black tom questioned the spotted golden she-cat.
Yowls of anger and surprise burst out among the clan, and Ivy’s pelt burned indignantly. Just because he fell in love with his mother, they’d go as far as to call their departed clanmate a traitor? Ivy stifled a growl from rising in his throat. They were beginning to remind him of ShadowClan.
But this time Mistyfoot silenced them again with an irritated yowl. “Autumnfur was a loyal RiverClan cat! You all knew him well. He served the clan tirelessly, and we never questioned his loyalty; not one of us!” she growled at her clan. “Yes; he made a mistake. He broke the warrior code for love. All cats do stupid things, but that does not make them traitors! I am repelled that all of you would ignore everything a noble warrior, and honorable clanmate was, just because of a mistake like that!” Mistyfoot clenched her paws; her ears flattened and glared at her clanmates.
Ivy flicked his ears, shocked but grateful to the RiverClan deputy. Leopardstar looked to be deeply considering Mistyfoot’s words. Even Ivy could see the leader had a deep respect for her deputy, and she seemed to be thinking hard about what Mistyfoot had said.
Suddenly, Leopardstar turned back to Ivy and meowed, “Are you willing to fight your old clan, and every cat in it, without any emotional connections to them interfering?” she demanded.
Ivy was a bit caught off guard, and blinked a few times to recover himself. For a moment he thought of his old mentor, and the other apprentices he grew up with. But then he remembered how they had stood there, doing nothing as both his parents were slaughtered and he was exiled from the clan.
Ivy’s eyes hardened and he met the RiverClan leader’s eyes firmly. “I am,” he proclaimed.
Leopardstar studied him briefly before nodding her approval. Then the spotted she-cat turned to her clan and announced. “I will allow him to stay in RiverClan.”
After a few murmurs of protest, Leopardstar dismissed the situation, claiming that Ivy will just have to prove his loyalty to the clan in the future. “Tell the clan your name,” Leopardstar ordered the ginger ex-rogue.
Ivy straightened his back and meowed, “I go by Ivy,” in a voice as loud as he could manage with his nervousness.
He saw Pixiepaw’s ears perk up, but the white she-cat still refused to look at Ivy. He resisted the urge to pad over to her and spill his guts right that second. Here, while the ginger tom remained the centre of attention, was not the time.
Chapter 9
Her tail flicked in a mixture of hurt and annoyance. I mean, it wasn’t like I thought about him that much… Pixieflight’s mind suddenly became defensive. But, I still remembered him! You can’t just… forget someone like that… Pixieflight just couldn’t get over the look in his familiar green eyes when she had greeted him. There wasn’t even a flicker of confusion. There was just, nothing there.
Pixieflight decided she had had a long enough day, and started off towards the warriors den to sleep. She wasn’t quite sure, but she could've almost sworn someone had followed her.
When she entered the den, Pixieflight was relieved to find it empty. But of course it was; everyone was outside checking out the new forgetful clanmate.
With a rush of bitterness, Pixieflight flopped miserably on her nest and shut her eyes to nap. Her mind swirled with strange images, fueled by her sour attitude. Images of Ivy from back then, his charming eyes glinting with fun as he taunted her for her fluffiness. The sorrowful look that filled those eyes as he confided in Pixieflight about his exile from his clan, the warm feeling that filled Pixieflight’s heart when he…
“Feeling sleepy, Snowball?” The ginger tom’s voice was suddenly loud, and real.
The sound of Ivy’s voice snapped Pixieflight from her daze and her heart surged with exhilaration. She jumped up and whirled around to face the ex-rogue.
“You do remember!” Pixieflight exclaimed, aghast, her blue eyes blazing.
Ivy purred in amusement, his eyes sparkling again. “Of course I do, did you think I’d forget?” he replied nudging the flabbergasted she-cat with his shoulder.
Pixieflight opened her mouth, and then shut it again. “I… you had me thinking so!” the fluffy white warrior protested with a huff.
Ivy tilted his head, giving her a level stare. “And what do you think your friends there would have said if a ShadowClan rogue greeted you like a clanmate?” he asked her logically.
Pixieflight blinked and looked considerably chastised, awkwardly staring at her paws. “W-well I didn’t think about that… they would have been angry…” she murmured.
Ivy mrrowed with glee, shaking his head. Then the ginger tom looked up at Pixieflight curiously. “So, what’s your name now? No wait, let me guess.” His green eyes glinted playfully. “Pixiefluff!” He purred, purring harder when Pixieflight flashed him a glare.
The white she-cat shifted her paws, ruffling her fur peevishly. She met the jokester tom’s eyes levelly; trying to conceal her annoyance, lest he enjoy himself too much. “My name is Pixieflight, if you really need to know,” she informed him shortly.
Ivy nodded to her, and they started sharing tongues in the empty warriors den. Eventually, Ivy asked her about Wildpaw, sharing how he had seen the young apprentice react to Fernpaw’s gossip, and Pixieflight suddenly found herself confiding in the ginger tom about her worries as a mentor.
She went on about her concerns about Wildpaw’s health, her inability to catch prey, Pixieflight insecurity about teaching her, the pressure from her clanmates; everything! The white she-cat couldn’t seem to stop herself. She had needed to unload these burdens for so long, and she enjoyed the funny tom’s presence.
When she was done spilling her guts to Ivy, Pixieflight felt a huge load come off her shoulders, and for the first time in a long while, she felt free as a kit.
“I’m sorry. For going on and on like that…” the she-cat warrior apologised, suddenly embarrassed of herself. Afterall, she didn’t know the tom that well.
But Ivy merely nodded in response, assuring her it was okay. “I… couldn’t help but notice,” the ginger tom began, somewhat hesitantly. “You- you said something about proving your worth to the clan. I don’t mean to pry, but what did you mean by that?” the ex-rogue asked, gentle curiosity edging his tone.
Pixieflight blinked and looked down at her paws. She hadn’t truly realised how much she’d told him. But when she looked in his eyes, she could only see heart-felt concern.
The fluffy she-cat sighed, “I’m not exactly, fully RiverClan,” she confessed.
The ginger tom’s eyes widened, but he remained silent, gesturing for Pixieflight to continue. The she-cat closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “My… mother was a… she was… She was a kittypet…” she mumbled at last.
Ivy blinked in surprise, but besides that, the ginger tom showed no signs of reacting. Most cats would be repelled by the fact that another cat shared kittypet blood; it was generally looked down upon by all the clans. Pixieflight had certainly experienced the prejudice in her own clan.
But Ivy didn’t look at the fluffy white she-cat that way. He only looked at her with a certain respect, but also with something different that Pixieflight had never seen before: Understanding.
It suddenly hit Pixieflight that of course Ivy understood her; he had experienced nearly the same exact thing! The white she-cat felt a new and deeper connection to the rugged ginger tom. It was a feeling she quite enjoyed. Never had Pixieflight known anyone in her clan that understood her pain; that knew what it was like to be discriminated, and to not really belong anywhere.
Her heart warmed as she thought of the ex-rogue’s playful yet kind personality, and found the ginger tom’s presence was extremely appealing.
At that thought, Pixieflight suddenly found that her pelt was burning from her paws to her tail tip, and she flicked her tail in alarm; recognising the feeling. She had felt it once before, when she and Ivy had first met. But familiarity didn’t make the sensation any less distressful.
Why is this happening to me? Pixieflight flattened her ears, and her eyes darted nervously around the warrior’s den. Ivy peered at her strangely, and opened his mouth question her, but Pixieflight cut him off saying, “I- I have to go, sorry!” And she fled the den.
The white she-cat padded briskly across the camp, her fluffy fur unseemly ruffled. Her paw-steps subconsciously led her towards her old mentor, who was enjoying a piece of fresh-kill by herself. As Pixieflight approached Minnowtail, the grey and white she-cat looked up from the silver fish she was eating to greet her former apprentice.
“Good sunhigh, Pixieflight. Nice to see you,” Minnowtail paused, noticing Pixieflight’s bristling fur and subdued demeanor. “What’s wrong?” she asked simply.
Pixieflight looked up at her, allowing her out-of-hand emotions to come spilling out. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!” the young she-cat wailed. “I was minding my business, sharing tongues, and then all of the sudden my pelt starts burning! I felt crazy nervous, and then, I started stuttering like a fish-brain! I have no idea what’s wrong with me!” Pixieflight looked up at her mentor desperately, hoping to find form of comfort in her.
But, to the she-cat warrior’s surprise, her mentor was smiling; her eyes filled with mirth.
Minnowtail looked up at the sky and mrrowed with laughter. She continued to purr gleefully as Pixieflight just stood there in shocked silence.
Finally, the grey and white she-cat stopped and looked into her former apprentice’s eyes, still barely concealing her merriment. “And who, exactly, where you sharing tongues with?” was Minnowtail’s response.
Pixieflight blinked slowly, still caught off-guard by her old mentor’s response. She opened her mouth to answer, and felt her ears flush with heat once again. “I-Ivy…”
Minnowtail shook her head and purred. “Oh, Pixieflight, Pixieflight… That’s what I’d call flustered. And I don’t blame you either, he’s a pretty one.”
Pixieflight suddenly flushed in horror at Minnowtail’s words. “What!?” she exclaimed; stricken. “I-I don’t… you… wha-” Pixieflight couldn’t manage a single sentence.
Minnowtail purred again and stroked the white she-cat’s flank with her tail. “Oh, come on,” she began. “You know what I mean,” her amber eyes blinked playfully.
Pixieflight shook her head, refusing the gray and white she-cat’s gaze. The unsettled white warrior grumbled under breath. She would have to settle this another time.
Chapter 10
The fluffy she-cat glanced over at her sleeping grey apprentice, and was ashamed of the feeling that washed over her.
It was disappointment.
Pixieflight shook it away aggressively; scolding herself for such thoughts, but she couldn’t help but think that deep down, it’s how she truly felt. Wildpaw was a great cat with a wonderful personality, but she had some major issues that no other apprentice had.
Pixieflight couldn’t help but envy Pouncetail a little bit; Flintpaw didn’t have any issues.
Pixieflight shook her head. How could she think like that? She loved Wildpaw, and there was no doubt her apprentice was doing the best she could. Pixieflight nudged the young grey she-cat to wake her up, and then signaled her to follow. Wildpaw blinked open her eyes, and stretched her legs; her mouth widening in a large yawn.
The young apprentice rose to her paws and mumbled, “I’m up, I’m up…”
As the two she-cats took their places with the rest of the clan, Leopardstar addressed them again. “RiverClan, those chosen to accompany will be leaving now for the Gathering! Let us go!”
Pixieflight jumped to her paws, all negative emotions from earlier forgotten. She would really be going to the Gathering this moon! And with an apprentice of her own! Pixieflight scampered onward, brimming with excitement.
Besides herself, Wildpaw, and Mistyfoot obviously; Blackclaw, Mosspelt, Rippletail, Pouncetail, Pinefur, and Swallowtail were the other warriors attending. The other apprentices were Sneezepaw, Mallowpaw, and Copperpaw.
Pixieflight leaped enthusiastically into the pebble-filled beach, trying to recall her last Gathering. Pixieflight’s joy suddenly dulled, realizing that the last time she had attended a Gathering, was when she had become a warrior. And I’m only here now because I’m a mentor to their new apprentice, the troublesome one!
The white she-cat’s stomach turned as she realized how accurate it was. Pixieflight had only been to two Gathering’s in her entire life: one when she became an apprentice, and one when she became a warrior.
And a third time when I receive my own apprentice. Pixieflight thought bitterly.
She looked to Pouncetail. They were eight moons apart, but the ginger and white tom was already coming to his fifth gathering. The misfit she-cat’s pelt flared with resentment, and she lowered her head and seated herself next to her apprentice.
“Um, Pixieflight…” Wildpaw’s small voice inquired timidly. “Are you…”
The brooding white warrior cut her apprentice off with a flick of her tail. “I’m perfectly fine, why don’t you go speak to the other apprentices. They’re bound to welcome you,” Pixieflight’s encouraging words were laced with an icy bitterness that Wildpaw knew nothing about.
The young apprentice bounced off to join the others; leaving Pixieflight by her lonesome to mope. This Gathering was just about ruined for her, so she decided not to speak to anyone. But after a few minutes, a thin white she-cat with a large ginger spot on her back approached the pouting white RiverClan cat with an odd look in her eye.
“You look kind of lonely, would you like some company?” the she-cat asked Pixieflight.
Pixeiflight was flattered by the she-cat’s request. She nodded to her, scenting that she was a ThunderClan cat.
More than flattered, Pixieflight was also puzzled. This she-cat didn’t know anything about her, so why was she keeping Pixieflight company? She was certainly pretty, and her scent had the oddest familiarity.
“This is my third Gathering,” the ThunderClan stranger spoke up. “I don’t really care for them. I don’t like other cats to know how useless I am.”
Pixeflight started at her words. She whirled to face the she-cat. “What on earth do you mean? I wouldn’t think that!” she found herself exclaiming.
But the she-cat shook her head, smiling sadly. “But it’s true. Look,” she gestured to her right leg, which to Pixieflight’s surprise, was riddled with scars.
“Great StarClan!” the fluffy white she-cat blurted before she could stop herself. Then more timidly she responded, “I hadn’t noticed.”
The pretty she-cat smiled sadly again, looking down at her limb. But Pixieflight couldn’t accept that her injury made her worthless. “But- I saw you walk! You weren’t limping,” she insisted.
The ThunderClan warrior shook her head. “It’s fine when I walk, but I can’t run," she explained, a change coming over her. "I can’t fight, I’m no good as a medicine cat, I’m just useless. I can’t do anything!” The she-cat’s face was suddenly scrunched up sorrowfully; her eyes brimming with moisture.
The single-spotted she-cat rose suddenly to her feet, mumbling an apology, and started off away; limping badly. Pixieflight was startled by the she-cat’s sudden appearance and departure, and all that she had said. It left her baffled and filled with unanswered questions. She still didn’t understand why the ThunderClan she-cat had spoken to her in the first place!
With all these questions whirling around in her mind, Pixieflight hadn’t noticed the cat that came up behind her until she spoke. “Don’t mind her grumblings.”
Pixieflight jumped at the voice and turned around to face the speaker. She was surprised to see the kind face she recognised as Leafpool, the ThunderClan medicine cat. The light brown tabby she-cat looked down sadly at Pixieflight, her eyes not even seeing the fluffy white she-cat.
Then Leafpool turned her dismal gaze on the spotted she-cat. “She’s not really wounded. I fixed her leg up just fine. The thing is,” the medicine cat frowned. “She refuses to let it be healed.”
When Leafpool met Pixieflight’s confused look, she went on. “It’s psychological. See, she was traumatized as a newborn kit. Both her siblings were killed, and she was injured. Since then she has never let it go that she was the only one who survived,” Leafpool explained.
Pixieflight blinked. This was not something the furry she-cat was expecting to hear. Pixieflight’s heart was filled with sympathy for the ThunderClan she-cat.
For a few moments, the two cats sat in silence, mourning her tragedies. Then Leafpool shook herself, as if awakening from a daydream. She climbed to her feet briskly, and nodded to Pixieflight. “Well,” the ThunderClan medicine cat began.
Pixieflight stood up suddenly, not wanting the medicine cat to leave her with still so many unanswered questions. “Wait, you don’t have to-” Leafpool cut her off with a swipe of her tail.
“The leaders are starting. I’ll join my clan now,” she responded.
Pixieflight blinked. She glanced at the Great Oak, and realized Leafpool was right. “Oh, alright… Could you, um… could you tell me that she-cat’s name?” she pleaded awkwardly.
For a split-second Leafpool looked as if she might refuse, but instead she replied, “Spotcloud.” And walked away. Pixieflight froze for a moment, feeling quite unnatural. Something about Spotcloud had carried the oddest familiarity to it, and Pixieflight just couldn’t pin it down.
At last, she snapped out of it when Onestar called the Gathering into session. Pixieflight scampered hurriedly to join her clan next to Wildpaw. The young apprentice’s eyes were filled with wonder and excitement, just as Pixieflight’s had been earlier that day. The white she-cat felt a glow of warmth for the eager she-cat, that dispersed any negative feelings from before.
Pixieflight surged with pride as Leopardstar announced Wildpaw’s apprenticeship, and vowed in her heart to do everything she could to make Wildpaw the best warrior in RiverClan.
Even if it means I have to fish. Pixieflight squirmed at the thought, but her mind was determined. She would teach Wildpaw, if it was the last thing she would do.
After ShadowClan and ThunderClan shared their news, the Gathering came to a close. Leaders jumped down from the Great Oak, and cats split into their clans to travel home. As Pixieflight turned to leave, she felt an eerie sense wash over her.
Some cat is watching me.
She turned to locate the source of the gaze, and her blue eyes fell on the hardened green eyes of Firestar. She nearly flinched from his stare, and he immediately looked away.
But Pixieflight couldn’t shake the odd look she had seen their.
In fact, it was akin to the look buried in Leafpool’s eyes, but hers had been far more guarded. It was suspicion, but beneath its hostile exterior, lay shock and recognition.
This is an interesting one. Most of it is setting up for future events rather than anything else. I hope you enjoy it, and please, anyone who's reading, I would love to hear your reviews or critique of the story. Thanks!
Chapter 11
“So how was the Gathering, Snowball?” a teasing voice sparked irritation in Pixieflight’s belly, but also great playfulness.
“Don’t forget, I’m a viscous one,” the she-cat replied, flashing a mock glare.
Ivy nodded, closing his eyes, as if deep in thought. He murmured his agreement, and then turned suddenly serious. “Did you, speak with any cats from ShadowClan?” the ginger tom meowed anxiously, his eyes filling with a mix of emotions.
Pixieflight looked up soberly, shaking her head. He nodded, looking slightly crestfallen, but grimly acceptant.
Pixieflight regretted not talking with the others when she had had the chance. She could have at least paid attention to which cats were there!
Then she perked up, recalling her apprentice’s social adventures. “Wildpaw might have spoken to some of them, she was quite eager to share tongues with the other clan cats.”
But Ivy flicked his tail dismissively. “It’s alright, I was just… wondering,” he sighed.
They sat awkwardly in front of one another, unsure of what to say next. Pixieflight looked down at the fresh-kill she had picked from the pile, debating whether or not to offer sharing it. Just thinking about that filled Pixieflight with joy, but it also washed her with that dreaded feeling.
Pixieflight decided to choose enjoying a nice meal with Ivy. “W-would you… do you want to share this?” she stammered, increasingly frustrated with her inability to speak.
Ivy mrrowed in laughter and nodded, stooping to take a bite from the perch laying at Pixieflight’s feet. They ate and shared tongues until the sun had risen halfway up the sky. Then Pixieflight suggested they take the hunting patrol, along with Wildpaw.
The white warrior frowned when she had to wake the young apprentice from her late sunrise sleep, but she didn’t say a word. Instead she led her apprentice into the forest without letting her eat any fresh-kill.
Wildpaw noticed, but she didn’t complain. Pixieflight at least had that to work with.
“Alright, Wildpaw. We’ll head to the river today.” Wildpaw’s eyes widened in shock, and she opened her mouth to question, but thought better of it when she glanced at Ivy.
Pixieflight was glad her apprentice was kind and sensible enough not to reveal her hatred for fishing in front of the teasing ginger tom. She blinked her appreciation and turned back towards her path. Panic struck her as she realized nobody else with her knew the way to the river. Pixieflight wasn’t confident in her memory of the way there, but she couldn’t opt out now!
Uncertainly she continued; deep in concentration, and fearful that every step was taking them in the wrong direction.
Fortunately, Pixieflight’s memory didn’t fail her, and they made it finally to the river. Thank StarClan! She silently prayed. But her nervousness had not gone unnoticed. Ivy was giving her an odd stare, and from the look in his eye, Pixieflight knew she was in for it now.
“Been here often, Snowball?” the ginger tom teased.
Pixieflight sniffed and replied, “One would wonder why you bothered to learn my name,” hoping to change the subject, but Ivy persisted.
“You looked pretty lost there, are you sure you know the way?” he nagged, ducking away in case Pixieflight swiped at him.
But she didn’t. Instead, she ignored his taunting and padded firmly towards the riverbed; ears back, tail straight, and pelt bristling. Wildpaw stumbled up beside her, and Ivy joined a few moments later, slightly dejected.
Pixieflight continued to ignore him, and concentrated all her effort on the shifting waves of the stream. Her eyes bore down, desperately seeking the silver flash of a fish. She could worry about mentoring afterwards.
All of a sudden, she spotted it; in the corner of her vision a streak of silver appeared on the surface of a wave. In an instant the panicked she-cat lunged, praying to StarClan that her claws would meet their target. And miraculously, they did!
With a cry of excitement, Pixieflight felt the wriggling fish crunch beneath her claws, and it’s movement stop. She thanked StarClan as she lifted the silve rfish in her jaws, and turned back to her companions on the shore.
Wildpaw was watching her with a look of pride and adoration, while Ivy’s eyes were filled with an amused curiosity. Pixieflight dropped her prey at their feet, and turned to Wildpaw.
“So, do it… Like that,” the white warrior explained, unsure how to instruct her apprentice about something she barely knew how to do herself. Then Pixieflight remembered Minnowtail’s instructions from when she was an apprentice under the gray and white she-cat.
Pixieflight paused, taking a moment to close her eyes and concentrate. Then the fluffy she-cat carefully recited her former mentor’s words; watching Wildpaw nod slowly as she drank in the instructions.
After she had finished, she invited Wildpaw to attempt herself. Pixieflight felt a moment of disheartenment as she recalled how long it had taken for Wildpaw to catch her first mouse. How long would it be again, before she caught a single fish?
Pixieflight suppressed a groan and reminded herself of her conviction. No matter what it took, she was going to make Wildpaw a warrior.
Pixieflight glanced next to her, realizing that Ivy was staring at her. With a nervous twitch, she snapped, “What are you looking at?”
Ivy blinked in surprise, but then smiled in his famous joking way. “Just watching the excitement of an apprentice’s first catch,” he replied.
Pixieflight ruffled her fur. “You were staring at me,” she pointed out in annoyance.
The ginger tom cocked his head and grinned smugly. “I know,” he said.
Pixieflight’s eyes widened, and she stared at the tom in disbelief. “Ah- What- shut up,” she grumbled sourly.
Ivy purred in amusement. It seemed like he was about to say something more, but was interrupted by a splash as Wildpaw dove into the stream.
They both turned to look, and Pixieflight was pleasantly surprised to see her young apprentice stumbling to her feet; a small shiny fish in her jaws, “You caught one! Great job, Wildpaw!” Pixieflight purred in praise.
Her gray apprentice glimmered with pride and she shakily made her way back to the riverbed. About two paw-steps from the shore, Wildpaw took a step a bit too far away, and it slipped off of a wet stone. Ivy and Pixieflight rushed to help her, but they were too late.
The young apprentice slipped and flopped onto her belly in the middle of the stream. The tide swept her up immediately, and both mentor and companion rushed through the rushing waters after the clumsy she-cat, desperately attempting to catch on to her fur. They struggled fiercely after the young gray she-cat, and at last it was Ivy who reached her.
The gasping ginger tom gripped firmly on the struggling apprentices scruff, and yanked her out of the river and onto the shore.
Pixieflight; however, scrambled with all of her might just to make it back to the shore herself. She was drenched from head to tail-tip in both water and shame. The white she-cat had never felt like more of a failure.
What kind of a RiverClan cat was she if she couldn’t even save her own apprentice? An inexperienced ShadowClan rogue had swam better than her!
Furiously, Pixieflight shook the water from her pelt, and rushed over to where Ivy and Wildpaw sat, still coughing and wheezing. “Are you- Are you two okay?” she hacked.
Ivy looked up at her, his eyes exhausted. “We’ll live,” he replied, with just a hint of his notorious humor lingering.
Wildpaw coughed again, and then opened her mouth to speak. “I’m sorry, Pixieflight. I-I slipped and…”
Pixieflight cut her off by pressing her muzzle into the young apprentices fur. “It’s okay, I know, I know…” The three cats were far too tired to discuss blame.
With a sudden pang of sympathy, Pixieflight realized that Wildpaw had dropped her fish. Of course no one could blame her after what had just occurred, but Pixieflight felt bad she had lost her first catch. Especially after how proud she had been of it.
Pixieflight sighed. They would have to try again next time.
Chapter 12
Spotcloud sighed loud enough to wake ShadowClan. She loved her mother, but Brightheart had the tendency to overcompensate. Stiffening in irritation, she replied, “No, Brightheart. I’m fine.” She regretted her tone as the one-eyed she-cat flinched away, but she just couldn’t bear the smothering.
Spotcloud knew it was something she had to bear, being the only one who survived Brightheart’s second kitting, but it was too much sometimes. The slender spotted she-cat slunk gloomily away; trying to hide her limp, and failing. As she approached the warrior’s den, she saw her father return from hunting patrol with her sister: Whitewing.
While the death of her kin turned Brightheart into a fussy mess, it had driven Cloudtail closer than ever to his first daughter. Not that he didn’t fuss over Spotcloud too.
With a roll of her eyes, Spotcloud limped into the warrior’s den. A few minutes after the dreary she-cat settled into a nest, she heard the nimble paw-steps of Whitewing entering the den. She acknowledged the white warrior with a grunt, but didn’t turn to face her.
Whitewing paused, and seated herself on the den floor. For a long moment, neither of the two cats spoke.
Then Whitewing sighed and said, “I’m sorry if Brightheart worries over you so much, but that doesn’t mean you can be rude.” Spotcloud stifled a groan.
“Brightheart doesn’t just worry, she freaks! And she’s unbearably doting,” Spotcloud complained, rolling over to speak to her sister.
The white she-cat met her levely. “You know why that is Spotcloud. You can at least give her a little grace,” Whitewing’s eyes clouded suddenly, and Spotcloud was filled with apology.
The crippled she-cat tore away from her sister’s gaze. “I-I know… I’m sorry.”
They paused for a series of moments, neither one of them sure was to say. Spotcloud glanced hesitantly back up at Whitewing, a question ready on her heart. “Whitewing… Can you… Tell me about, that day?” she asked timidly. “Brightheart and Cloudtail never want to,” she added.
Whitewing hesitated, but eventually she complied. With a sigh, she walked over to Spotcloud’s nest and pressed her flank into her sister’s as she curled up beside her. “I always regretted not being there. I was on hunting patrol when you three were born, you know. I cursed myself for missing your birth, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as when I missed the attack. Well, I guess that isn’t accurate,” Whitewing paused, correcting herself. “I wasn’t with you in the nursery. I had planned on visiting you after I finished my meal, but it was too late by that time.” Whitewing’s voice failed her, and she took a moment to collect herself.
Spotcloud wrapped her tail around the brave she-cat’s back to comfort her.
Whitewing blinked and went on, “I smelled them coming, I was the first to shout a warning. But- But I was also the first to be attacked. A ShadowClan warrior bowled me over before I could blink my eyes. I saw them run in the nursery, and I saw Smokefoot run out with your sister, but I couldn’t do a thing. Jayfeather and Leafpool did more than I did. It was Lionblaze who ran after your sister, and it was Brightheart who saved your life. I didn’t do a thing.”
Spotcloud blinked in surprise at the emotion coming from Whitewing. She had thought only Brightheart and Cloudtail had been this attached to her former littermates. All Spotcloud could do was give Whitewing a lick and stroke her with her tail to calm the sorrowful white warrior. Spotcloud knew there wasn’t much more she could say to Whitewing.
“Hey,” Spotcloud said, hoping to change the subject to cheer her up. “I met someone at the Gathering. You know, the one about three moons ago? I told them my story, I don’t know why. They seemed kind of lonely and upset, like me.” Whitewing was looking up at her now; her interest peaked, so Spotcloud went on. “They were very comfortable to talk to. And they were sympathetic too. Um, she was a white she-cat like you, from RiverClan. I… didn’t learn her name though…”
Spotcloud was beginning to feel awkward, but the memory of the she-cat stood out to her in the oddest way possible, she just had to share it.
“She had the most beautiful blue eyes, too.” Whitewing started a bit at Spotcloud’s words, her eyes glittering with suspicion, and another emotion Spotcloud didn’t recognise.
Whitewing stiffened her jaw. “There are no cats like that in RiverClan! Have they been involved with kittypets I wonder…” she murmured, a weird, out of place tone in her voice.
Spotcloud flicked her ears uncomfortably. “Maybe, I guess… If it’s only kittypets that look like Cloudtail.”
Both sisters froze suddenly. Spotcloud’s words had sparked up something that neither of them could put out. The RiverClan she-cat looked uncannily like their father, Cloudtail…
***
“Hey, Pixieflight,” Ivy’s sleepy voice murmured. “Where’d you get this scar?” He nudged at a pale pink marking on Pixieflight’s left leg with his muzzle.
“Oh, go back to sleep! I have patrol tomorrow, and you’re acting like you just took a stock of catmint!” Pixieflight grumbled, still half-asleep. But Ivy persisted groggily.
“But I’ve been wondering… Did a kitty scratch you, Snowball?” he teased, and Pixieflight lifted her head and squinted at him, still too tired to make sense of anything.
The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the rest of the night was still. Not a single other cat stirred in their slumber.
Pixieflight blinked again, trying to recall the answer so Ivy would let her sleep. “I… I don’t know, I’ve just always had it,” she mumbled, laying her head back down on it’s side. Then, with a vengeful annoyance, she added, “Where did you get your scars?”
Now it was the ginger tom’s turn to blink. He obviously wasn’t fully awake, so he replied, “A… lot of places. Which one-s-s, do you mean?” Ivy’s words slurred as he spoke.
Pixieflight closed her eyes irritably, wishing the dumb tom hadn’t woken her so late. “I don’t know, the nick on your ear, how about?” she suggested.
Suddenly, Ivy’s eyes cleared of their grogginess, and he stared back at the white she-cat; his eyes filled with pain. He had clearly come to a painful awakening, and Pixieflight regretted causing it. The ginger tom twitched his nicked ear and turned away from her.
But after a few moments of silence, Ivy turned his gaze back to the tired fluffy she-cat and spoke, “Blackstar gave it to me. When he drove me from ShadowClan.”
Pixieflight nearly gasped, surprised that the ginger tom would tell her this. But he went on. “I still remember the look in his eyes, the pure hatred… It was right after he killed my mother. Right in front of me he did that. No cat was expecting it, and I barely heard my father’s scream over my own.”
Pixieflight knew that in the sober light of day, Ivy would never share this information with her. And even though she was curious, for his sake she wished he would stop.
But Ivy didn’t stop. He continued saying, “I was so stunned, you know? I didn’t know what was happening. Then my father leaped on Blackstar and they fought like dogs. I’d never seen so much anger in my life. I approached Tallpoppy’s body; my mother’s, and everything felt like a dream. A nightmare.” The ex-ShadowClan tom’s eyes were brimming with tears, and Pixieflight couldn’t bring herself to say a word.
Ivy spilled to the white she-cat his story, his grief, his anger; and Pixieflight only listened in stunned silence. The tom was shaking from head to tail, his claws unsheathed. Even though he seemed quite awake, Pixieflight knew Ivy was not his true self.
“You know,” Ivy nearly laughed. “My father won. Blackstar refused any help from his clanmates, confident in his victory, but my father beat him. He took a life from him.” Ivy paused, lashing his tail furiously; his eyes darkened with rage. “But as the sick tyrant lay dead, and my father stumbled back, covered in blood; Blackstar’s cursed deputy killed him.”
Pixieflight had had enough. She stood up and padded briskly over to the shaking angry tom. She wrapped her tail around the ginger tom’s back soothingly. “Shh, Ivy, it’s okay. You don’t have to relive that. It’s terrible that that happened, and I’m sorry, but for now, please sleep.” Pixieflight pleaded desperately.
Her comforting words and touch seemed to calm him, and he slowly settled his bristling fur and blinked his eyes closed. Pixieflight planned to stay with him until he was asleep, but; her overwhelming tiredness took over, and she fell into slumber beside him.
Chapter 13
The next morning, Ivy awoke to find Pixieflight asleep, her warm, soft body curled up beside him in his nest. After a moment of shock, he recovered, vaguely recalling the last night’s events.
The ginger tom barely remembered waking up, but fuzzily remembered speaking to her about scars and Blackstar.
Ivy’s eyes widened in horror as he tried to recollect what he had said. With a nervous glance to Pixieflight, he realized he must have said something drastic.
Blurry memories of his parent’s deaths came to his mind, and he soon realized what it was.
He glanced sadly at the peaceful white she-cat sleeping soundly beside his nest, and he deeply regretted what he may have shared. There was no need for her to be told of such things.
With a heavy sigh, Ivy stretched and exited the warrior’s den to hunt. By the time the tom returned, Pixieflight was awake and sharing tongues with Wildpaw, until she saw him approach with his fresh-kill. She bounded over to him, a question waiting in her crystal blue eyes.
Ivy sighed, readying himself. Pixieflight reached him, and sure enough she questioned the ginger tom about the previous night. With a shrug, Ivy told the worrisome she-cat that he didn’t remember anything; which wasn’t totally a lie, and she hesitated.
For a moment she looked as if she was going to say more, but instead she nodded and said, “Alright… you were really sleepy, so, I didn’t think you would.” And walked off.
Ivy watched the thick-furred pure white she-cat trot across the camp, and he was filled with a warm feeling in his heart; Ivy knew he loved her. He had known for quite a while now, but he wasn’t sure how she felt. The tom didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or ruin their companionship.
For now, he was happy being a friend. Someday, however; that might change.
***
Pixieflight tried to avoid Minnowtail’s sidelong glances as the fuzzy white she-cat scampered uncomfortably along the cold earth with her former mentor and her apprentice alongside her.
Pixieflight hadn’t thought twice about it when the gray and white she-cat had suggested the three of them take dawn patrol together, but now she regretted agreeing.
Two heartbeats before Wildpaw had sautered up to join them with Rippletail, Minnowtail had whispered in Pixieflight’s ear: “Got a little chilly last night, did it?” and then proceeded forward with a playful glint never leaving her blue eyes.
Even now, as they walked silently along the stream, the old she-cat was fixing Pixieflight with that knowing stare.
Pixieflight flattened her ears defensively and hissed under her breath, “It wasn’t what you think, okay!” But the gray and white she-cat just purred in amusement.
Wildpaw eyed them quizzically, but remained silent. Rippletail merely smiled to himself, pretending not to here the she-cat’s conversation. Minnowtail; however, was not finished yet.
As they reached the end of the river and turned to head for Small Thunderpath, she bat Pixieflight’s rump affectionately and meowed, “There is love in the air!” in a low, yet sing-song voice.
Pixieflight aimed a swat at her old mentor’s ear, but stumbled as the gray and white she-cat ducked away. “Shut up! I told you it’s not like that!” the bristling white she-cat spat, bewildered by her own fury, and stopping mid-stride. “He- he had a nightmare… I was just- comforting him…” Pixieflight explained awkwardly, her pelt burning as she noticed her apprentice was staring with wide eyes.
Minnowtail shook her head. “Whatever you say,” the she-cat purred, and continued walking toward their destination.
Pixieflight shook herself and stomped forward angrily. Wildpaw followed timidly, but the gray apprentice’s eyes burned with curiosity.
After a long quiet while, Pixieflgiht cooled down and began thinking of a reasonable way to make sure her companions never spoke of this again to any cat.
But as the white she-cat’s mind whirled around brainstorming, Pixieflight’s thoughts were interrupted by a foreign scent filling her nose.
ShadowClan!
All four RiverClan cats braced themselves for combat, hissing and yowling at the source of the intruding scent. Pixieflight’s pelt prickled with a multitude of odd emotions. One of the most prominent being completely out of place. It was a sensation she was getting oddly accustomed to: One of the scents was vaguely familiar.
But the white she-cat had no time to ponder such feelings, because a moment later five ShadowClan cats appeared in front of small Thunderpath; a menacing glare in their eyes.
“Intruders! This is RiverClan territory!” Minnowtail spat ferociously, thrashing her tail.
But the ShadowClan cats just sneered at them. The middle cat; whom Pixieflight recognized as ShadowClan’s deputy, Russetfur, spoke up. “May as well be ours, since you cats are basically kin to fish,” she proclaimed smugly.
A lethal growl rumbled in the three RiverClan cat’s throats.
How dare she! We’ll show her! Pixieflight’s heart pounded with adrenaline and rage, but her mind spoke rationally. The white she-cat glanced at the young gray she-cat beside her worriedly.
Wildpaw was barely an apprentice, and she was far behind on battle training. If the young she-cat were to engage in an unbalanced fight against these five ruthless warriors, she may not survive.
Pixieflight gulped, hesitating within the frozen tension, and then made up her mind. “Wildpaw, get a patrol over here, now!” she commanded suddenly.
Wildpaw hesitated, immediate concern filling her eyes. “But I can’t-”
“Do it!” Pixieflight snapped, prompting Wildpaw to abruptly spin on her heels and bolt back towards the camp.
The ShadowClan warrior, Oakfur, had already leaped across small Thunderpath ahead of his clanmates in an attempt to chase the fleeing apprentice, but Pixieflight bowled him over before he could reach her.
The fight proceeding from there was a vicious mess. Pixieflight, Minnowtail and Rippletail fought hard, but they were severely outnumbered.
Pixieflight managed to rake her claws over the ShadowClan apprentice, Raggedpaw’s, eyes, in a flurry of confusion. The brown patched tom yowled in pain and fled the battle as Smokefoot tackled Pixieflight to the ground. The white warrior struggled against the powerful gray tom, but found herself suffering under his blows.
Meanwhile, Minnowtail fought valiantly against the ShadowClan deputy, but was overwhelmed by the dark ginger’s sheer strength and battle experience. Rippletail fought well and managed to gain the advantage over one ShadowClan warrior, but another knocked him over whilst he was distracted.
They were hopelessly outnumbered, and all the RiverClan she-cats could do was pray to StarClan Wildpaw would make it in time.
The battle tarried on, and Pixieflight became more and more weary as she barely managed to keep up with the experienced ShadowClan warrior. And when she did gain the advantage, one of the warrior’s fighting Rippletail would rush to the gray ShadowClan warrior’s side and Pixieflight would lose it.
On top of all that, Pixieflight couldn’t shake the odd feeling that came over her as she breathed in Smokefoot’s rank scent. The look in the ShadowClan tom’s eyes was malicious, but there was a wicked laughter dancing inside them. It was like somehow he knew Pixieflight, and he was enjoying playing games with her.
As Pixieflight rolled back and gained some distance, the two combatants began pacing. Pixieflight struggled to draw breath as she tread on her weary paws, but her mind raced tirelessly. She just needed to stall them long enough for Wildpaw to return with the others.
Smokefoot tilted his head and sneered at Pixieflight. “What’s wrong? Are you tired kittypet?” he meowed.
Pixieflight growled and stopped pacing; dropping to a crouch. “How did you know that about me?” she hissed, curious despite herself.
Instead of responding, Smokefoot laughed and pounced.
Pixieflight leaped back to avoid his attack, but he struck her on the nose. Dripping blood, the white she-cat hissed and swiped at the ShadowClan warrior until he sprung away to a safe distance to pace once more.
As he walked he spoke. “You're covered in my former apprentice's scent. Has he found a mate already in his new clan?”
Pixieflight stiffened, a disgusted growl rumbling in her throat. So this is Ivy’s old mentor, huh? The fluffy she-cat glared at Smokefoot without replying.
Smokefoot threw up his head in laughter, before swinging his head back to meet Pixieflight’s gaze; his eyes suddenly cold. “I’ll take your life, and make that half-clan fox-dung pay for his betrayal!” the gray ShadowClan warrior snarled.
Pixieflight’s eyes widened with shock as Smokefoot tackled her to the ground. She rolled over and shook him off, but he swiftly whirled back to face her again; his eyes blazing.
Even as Pixieflight slashed at his limbs and flank, her own exhaustion left the fluffy she-cat open, and that was all it took for Smokefoot to overpower her. He leaped onto her back with a grunt of triumph, and she stumbled to the ground. She wrestled to get free from the ShadowClan warrior’s grip, but his hold was firm.
“You should have stayed dead, mewling kit!” the rasping gray tom hissed haughtily, and he reared back and bit deep into Pixieflight’s neck.
Pain seared through the white she-cat’s scruff, but Pixieflight barely felt it. The gruff tom’s words and familiar voice triggered long-forgotten memories. As the battle scene before her faded, the fluffy white she-cat relieved an event from her kit hood. Pixieflight could feel her scruff jerking around as she was carried through unknown territory, and she could hear voices and sounds, and smell scents from cats she couldn’t remember.
The confused white she-cat was suddenly surrounded by a life; a community, she had lost within the depths of her mind long ago. She heard her mother’s voice, and her father’s. She felt their warmth, and the warmth of her littermates beside her. Pixieflight could taste her mother’s milk, and she heard her parents give her the mysterious name that had not left her.
Suddenly familiar scents came into place. Spotcloud and Leafpool, Smokefoot; she had known them in this forgotten world.
All of a sudden Pixieflight felt the cold shock and rushing current of the stream. The buried source of her hatred for the srteam. She scented Rippletail, and felt a coursing pain in her now scarred leg.
So many mysteries came together, and finally made sense. Pixieflight only wished she hadn’t realized in her final moments.
Chapter 14
For a long while Ivy had felt that something was off. The air seemed too still, too quiet. Not a bird sang, nor a prey scurried. The forest seemed to be holding it’s breath.
The odd feeling put Ivy on edge and he jumped at every sound. A creeping feeling of dread was washing over him, and he sniffed the air every few moments, keeping his ears pricked. Other’s began to notice his jumpy behaviour, but none of them knew him enough to ask about it. Except for Pouncetail.
The ginger and white tom had been the almost the only friendly cat in RiverClan, and had spoken to him shortly after Ivy had joined, to introduce himself. The RiverClan tom padded almost nervously toward the fretful ginger cat, his concern visible.
“Is something bothering you? You look like you’ve sented a pack of dogs,” he murmured to Ivy, and then quickly made eye-contact as if to insure this was not the case.
Ivy shook his head, barely managing to keep still. Unable to contain himself any longer, the skittish ginger meowed, “Does anything feel… off, to you?”
Pouncetail blinked. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, perplexed.
Ivy shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure how to explain to the RiverClan tom what he was feeling. It was just so… strange. “Um… I don’t know, like… a tension in the air?” he replied finally, hoping the ginger and white tom would understand him.
But Pouncetail just smirked instead. “It’s like that for a while for all outsiders at first, you know. Give it time, they’ll get used to you,” the tom explained encouragingly.
Ivy just blinked at him, uncomprehending. Then he realized what the RiverClan warrior was saying. “No- I-it’s not that, I just-” he stammered, trying to correct the mistaken tom.
“No really,” Pouncetail continued, still misinterpreting Ivy’s message. “They won’t hate you forever, I promise,” he added reassuringly.
Ivy just shook his head furiously, trying to make the ginger and white tom understand. He continued his attempt at explaining himself; just as terribly, but the frustrated ginger tom was suddenly interrupted by a distant cry for help.
Ivy sprung around, his claws unsheathed. He recognised the voice: it was Wildpaw!
With a hiss of anger he shot off towards the sound, cursing himself for not following his instincts. Everything he had been dreading was coming into place. Wildpaw had been with Pixieflight and Minnowtail on patrol.
If anything happened to her… Ivy did the best he could to banish the thought, but he couldn’t rid himself of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Help!” Wildpaw’s shaking voice cried out again. It sounded terrified and exhausted.
“Wildpaw, what’s happening!?” Ivy called out to her as she appeared before him.
She looked a mess. The young apprentice’s gray fur was tousled and bristling; mixed up with dirt, twigs and leaves. Her eyes blazed with unadulterated fear, and he breathing came in heaving ragged gasps. “Attack, Small Thunder… path, Sh-shadow… Clan…” the worn apprentice stumbled to the ground, unable to speak any further.
But Ivy had heard all he needed.
By the time Wildpaw had finished, Pouncetail and Beechfur had run up to join him and they followed swiftly behind as Ivy dashed toward Small Thunderpath; his paw-steps drumming to the beat of his heart.
The ginger tom’s mind spiraled into panic as he thought of Pixieflight fighting the warrior’s of his old clan. He had to get there in time to save her; he couldn’t lose her! Especially to the likes of his wicked former clanmates. Ivy remembered how in their first meeting, he had defended his clan to Pixieflight. But if they were rotten enough to attack like this and hurt her there was no redemption for them.
As the determined ginger tom ran, he was dimly aware of Wildpaw’s presence among the warriors who had followed. Remembering her exhaustion from before, he knew it was not wise for the young apprentice to join them. But Ivy didn’t have the time to argue with the stubborn gray she-cat, and could barely focus on anything besides the approaching battle anyway.
Suddenly, the yowls of fighting cats reached the apprehensive tom’s ears, and he quickened his pace. A few moments later, he saw them in a desperate flurry; cat scents and blood mingled in a terrifying battle.
Ivy’s clanmates, old and new, were currently tearing eachother apart. The warriors that had followed him cried out and joined the fray, howling viscously. But Ivy was only focused on one thing.
Then, he saw her. Pixieflight’s pelt; normally pure white and fuzzy, was dark and dampened in her own blood. She lay in the midst of the battle, sprawled out and limp. His precious snowball: lying beaten, bloody, and lifeless. Looming over her with a distasteful look in his eye, was Ivy’s very own former mentor: Smokefoot.
A fiery rage flared in Ivy’s chest and his eyes darkened. All of a sudden nothing else existed to the anguished ginger tom. All he could feel was his burning hatred, and all he could see was a dead mentor.
With a wail akin to the roar of LionClan; Ivy launched himself at the gray ShadowClan tom and bowled him over onto the hot flat surface at the edge of Small Thunderpath. Ivy slashed his claws ruthlessly; never stopping to see what he was doing. Smokefoot never spoke a word, but his eyes said terror, surprise, and confusion.
Ivy’s old mentor wasn’t so lost that he stopped fighting, though. He raked his claws all over his former apprentice, splashing blood all over the odd path’s surface, but Ivy barely felt it. His wounds were a dull stinging sensation, drowned out by the intense blaze in his heart.
“I’ll kill you!” Ivy screeched, unaware that the battle was over, and all eyes were on him. He just kept tearing away, refusing to let Smokefoot escape from his grasp.
Eventually his claws met his old mentor’s throat, but he barely noticed the gray tom was dead. When he finally realized the limp old tom was no longer breathing, he merely stumbled away; feeling absolutely numb.
“Ivy…” a subdued voice spoke from behind him, overflowing with worry.
But Ivy ignored it, suddenly remembering Pixieflight’s condition. He rushed over to her unmoving body and knelt by her side. “Pixieflight! Pixieflight! Answer me!” he cried. No, no! He thought. I can’t lose her, too!
But his panic was interrupted by her eyes blinking open. “I-Ivy…?” she murmured weakly. The ginger tom pressed his muzzle into her bloody scruff, squeezing his eyes shut.
StarClan, please, have mercy! “Some cat, get Mothwing! Quick!” Ivy shouted, his desperation cracking his voice.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Wildpaw scrambled to her paws and sprinted off back to camp. The thought didn’t cross Ivy’s mind that the young apprentice shouldn’t be running anymore in her condition. All he could think about was making sure Pixieflight survived.
“Don’t close your eyes,” Ivy rasped as the bloody she-cat began to blink her eyes shut. “Please, stay with me, Snowball…” Ivy choked on his words and buried his face deeper in the white she-cat’s fur. It was all he could do to stop the bleeding until Mothwing came with cobwebs.
A little ways away, Pouncetail knelt by Minnowtail and helped her clean her many wounds, and Beechfur helped Rippletail stand. No cat said a word. They waited in a dread-filled silence. As Ivy stared sidelong at her, Pixieflight’s eyes clouded.
“Ivy?” the she-cat piped-up suddenly, her voice terrified and soft.
“Yes, what is it?” the ginger tom answered her anxiously. His heart skipped a beat as Pixieflight frowned, and his nose flooded with her fear scent.
“I- I can’t see you,” Pixieflight blinked; her eyes, although half-closed and dull, were filled with terror. “Ivy, where are you?” the she-cat’s voice raised slightly, but it was still significantly weakened.
Ivy put his paw over hers reassuringly. “I’m here, Pixieflight! I’m right here,” he replied, feeling awfully sick. She was dying. “Please don’t go…” His voice was barely a whisper.
Pixieflight stared right at the ginger tom, but her eyes saw nothing. “Ivy… am I going to StarClan?”
The white she-cat’s question hit him like the strike of a badger. He couldn’t answer her; he wouldn’t answer her, so he said nothing.
“Ivy? Are you there?” Pixieflight asked again.
“Yes, Pixieflight,” Ivy replied, choking on the emotion in his voice. “I’ll always be here.”
Chapter 15
Wildpaw could barely breath. Her throat stung, her paws throbbed, her lungs ached, her sides hurt; everything hurt. The young apprentice knew she couldn’t go on like this. In reality, she should’ve stopped a long time ago.
The gray she-cat knew she wasn’t as fit as the others; in fact, she was grossly out of shape. Mothwing had told her not to overexert herself, lest the young she-cat push her incompetent body too far. But Wildpaw didn’t care.
The apprentice was done with all the special care. She knew not all of RiverClan was so accommodating. Many of them hated her, despised her, for her uselessness. Many more of them mocked her for it. Some of them secretly, and others boldly. And Wildpaw was tired of it.
She knew she was clumsy, and pathetic, and unfit. She knew she had no place in the clan, and she knew why. She was a kittypet.
‘A British Shorthair’ is the name her Twolegs had used. She was a whole different ‘breed’ than the rest of her clanmates. A breed apparently not built for clan life. Wildpaw thought bitterly. Pouncetail had found her just before he had become a warrior. She had run away from her Twoleg’s nest.
The ginger and white tom convinced his clanmates to let her join, and she had joined Flintpaw and Foggypaw to drink their mother’s milk. But Wildpaw was not their littermates, and barely their denmates. She was certainly no cat’s clanmate, except those who didn’t know that she was different. Pixieflight was one of them.
At the thought of her kind and dutiful mentor, Wildpaw’s mind went back to the battle field where she lay. Her mentor’s life ebbing away as the blood spilled from her deep wounds. Oh, please, Pixieflight, Wildpaw silently begged. Don’t join StarClan yet!
All of a sudden, the young shorthair’s nose was filled with a clanmate’s scent. “Willowshine!”
The young medicine cat burst forth in front of Wildpaw; her mouth stuffed with cobwebs. “Mothwing sent me ahead with these,” Willowshine explained, muffled by her load. “She’s preparing some herbs for the wounded. What happ-”
“Is she coming?” Wildpaw cut off the medicine cat, earnesty spilling from her eyes.
Willowshine shook her head. Wildpaw flicked her tail in apprehension, “Then you go take those to small Thunderpath, and hurry! Pixieflight’s wounded bad. I’ll get Mothwing.”
Willowshine hesitated a moment, clearly noticing Wildpaw’s condition, but thought better than to argue. The dark gray tabby she-cat nodded and bounded off to small Thunderpath.
Wildpaw tensed her muscles to do the same towards camp; her body screeching in protest. But the determined young apprentice ignored her aching frame’s plea, and took off for RiverClan’s camp.
By the time she reached the medicine den, her sides were heaving and her limbs were shaking. Wildpaw was hardly able speak a word, but she managed to call: “Mothwing! Pixieflight’s hurt, she needs help!”
Mothwing turned to the exhausted young apprentice abruptly, and without a word she grabbed a bunch of herbs and scampered briskly to the entrance of the den.
Wildpaw turned wearily to follow her, but Mothwing stopped her. “No, you’re staying here to rest. You’ve already overdone it today,” the senior medicine cat snapped.
But Wildpaw shook her head, unable to voice her protest. Mothwing stopped in her stride and stared the gray she-cat down. “You will listen to the orders of your medicine cat, young one,” she commanded, her voice low and unmoving.
“We don’t have time for this, Pixieflight needs your help now, and I’m going with you!” Wildpaw insisted impatiently. Mothwing glared fiercely at the rebellious young she-cat.
“You will rest,” the old medicine cat repeated firmly. “I won’t let you stay on your feet any longer, and the more you argue the more danger your mentor is in!”
“Fine!” Wildpaw flashed, sitting down with a thump. “Now go!” she yowled.
Mothwing picked up the herbs from the ground, and headed away with one last glare at the stubborn young apprentice. Wildpaw waited until the medicine cat disappeared into the distance and then got to her paws and followed her.
The gray she-cat heard Flintpaw call after her, but she had already decided she was not going to sit and wait. If it killed her inert body to stay with her mentor, then so be it.
***
“Who are you?” Pixieflight blinked in awe at her newfound surroundings.
All around her were the most beautiful green-leaved trees, and the most pleasant forest scents. It was a forest more majestic and breath-taking than she had ever witnessed before. And standing before her was a tiny white kit with ginger patches on his feet and mask.
“My name is Clovekit,” the young kit spoke, his blue eyes filling with a mix of emotions. “I was your brother.”
Pixieflight blinked again; this time is confusion. She opened her mouth hesitantly, unsure of herself. “My… brother? I had a littermate? Oh, yes… Back then…” the white she-cat reflected wistfully on her new-found old memories.
“Wait,” she said suddenly. “Am I in StarClan? Did I die!?” her voice increased in pitch as she spoke; devastation crushing her.
But the small kit didn’t answer her right away. His tail drooped in sadness, but his eyes held a twinkle of amusement. “No… not quite yet. But if you don’t wake up soon, you will,” he replied. The he added softly, “I wouldn’t mind so bad if you joined us…”
Pixieflight looked around hurriedly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to die yet! Where is Ivy? Where is the battle field? How do I get out of this place?” she questioned, her desperation worsening as she spoke.
But Clovekit still didn’t answer her. He looked to the ground sadly, flattening his ears. “I’ve waited so long for a sister… but you don’t want to be my sister yet. I can see that now.”
Pixieflight flinched away from the tiny kit’s unexpected words. She had barely known Clovekit existed until a few moments ago, but now he was flooding her heart with guilt.
“Clovekit, that isn’t exactly fair. You know this,” A voice spoke up gently from behind.
Pixieflight whirled around to face the new speaker. The RiverClan she-cat found herself staring into the eyes of a light brown she-cat. The new she-cat had familiar feautures, but she smelled of ShadowClan.
As their gazes locked, the playful glint in the she-cat’s emerald eyes uncannily reminded her of Ivy. “Greetings, Pixieflight. It is good to see you, but you should not be here. Not yet,” the snow-white she-cat said, her voice warm and kind. “Clovekit agrees, I assure you. And besides,” The she-cat’s eyes clouded suddenly. “My son needs you.”
Pixieflight’s blue eyes widened, and all at once the pieces came together. “You! You’re- you’re Tallpoppy! Ivy’s dea- um, mother…” the excited she-cat ended awkwardly.
Tallpoppy mrrowed in laughter, but then sighed as her eyes went sad again. “Yes, that is me. My son was devastated, and filled with hatred all these seasons because of my death.” Tallpoppy was barely containing her emotion. “But a few moons ago, all of that faded. Not completely, but a lot. His anger; his horrible loss, was nearly abandoned beneath a new wonderful feeling. That all started when he met you, and it has only been improving.”
Pixieflight blinked, flabbergasted. The warm, loving expression in Tallpoppy’s eyes set off thousands of butterflies in her belly, and brought back that irritating burning sensation. But it also made her feel warm inside.
But Tallpoppy’s eyes hardened once more, and she continued. “But now, all of that is lost. Ivy will never recover from this if you don’t wake up. I’m not supposed to say anything like this; ever, to a cat in your position. But I’m begging you. If you don’t survive...” Tallpoppy was nearly desperate.
But she regained her composure and met Pixieflight’s eyes anew. “Please, leave here. Your heart will show you the way.” And then, without a word, both her and Clovekit vanished; leaving Pixieflight alone with her confusion.
“Wait, come back! Tallpoppy! What did you mean!?” the bewildered she-cat cried.
Pixieflight repeated the brown she-cat’s words over and over in her head. Your heart will show you the way… The ShadowClan warrior’s heart raced and her chest went cold with panic. “How will it show me?” she shouted to the twinkling stars and towering trees. “What do I do!?”
There was no response from the empty forest. Pixieflight’s tail drooped in defeat. How could she get back to her clan if she didn’t know the way? She was trapped in here!
Wallowing in sadness, Pixieflight thought of all her clanmates that she would miss. Her beloved mentor Minnowtail, her adoptive mother Dawnflower, her dear friends Pouncetail and Rippletail, her gentle apprentice Wildpaw. And Ivy.
Suddenly, Pixieflight’s chest burned with a fiery determination. She couldn’t abandon her clan yet. She wasn’t ready to leave them, and they needed her.
Pixieflight lifted herself to her paws, and bounded forwards, her paws suddenly certain of her path. I’m coming, everyone! I’m coming Ivy!
Chapter 16
“Her breathing is too shallow. If Mothwing doesn’t get here soon…” Pouncetail didn’t finish his statement.
The ginger and white tom glanced worriedly at the fallen she-cat and the despairing tom beside her. He silently prayed to StarClan and looked around at the other RiverClan warriors. Pixieflight was undoubtedly in the worst shape, but Rippletail wasn’t doing too well either. Minnowtail had a fresh batch of scars, but she would heal.
Pouncetail beat the ground with his paw in anger. If only he’d been there in time. The ginger and white tom had always been good friends with Pixieflight. Even while the rest of the clan judged her for appearing from the river, Pouncetail never had. The RiverClan warrior believed that you were a warrior if you were loyal to your clan, not if you shared it’s blood. And Pixieflight had proved herself a brave, loyal, and worthy warrior of RiverClan time and time again.
Now, she had done so again. The fuzzy white she-cat might just have given her life for the clan, and even though Pouncetail burned with a rage at the thought; he knew that even still, not everyone would accept her.
Suddenly, Pouncetail’s angry thoughts were interrupted by thumping paw-steps. “Where is she?” Willowshine’s weary voice rang out through the clearing.
Ivy raised his head with a snap. “Over here! She’s right here!” the ginger tom called desperately.
Willowshine crashed towards the bleeding white she-cat, her jaws stuffed with cobwebs. As the young medicine cat applied the sticky wrappings, she whispered encouragement into Pixieflight’s ear. Pouncetail, Ivy, and the others stared in anxious horror, waiting for the medicine cat’s verdict. Moments felt like moons, and the young she-cat’s eyes filled with deep frustration, concern, and focus.
Finally, Willowshine backed up and fell into a slump. The weary medicine cat closed her eyes and sighed. “She’s in the paws of StarClan now...”
There was a moment of shock, and no cat spoke. Ivy was the first to open his mouth. “What- what do you mean? Is she-” the ginger tom was unable to finish.
Willowshine glanced back at him, distress filling her gaze. “I’m sorry, I- I’m too late. She’s- she’s…” the young medicine cat trailed off, avoiding the other cats’ gazes.
“No!” Ivy wailed in despair. “She can’t be! Pixieflight!” The sorrowful ginger tom collapsed in anguish beside her, burying his face in her fluffy blood-stained pelt. He cried out again and again to the still, lifeless she-cat; but in vain.
“She’s gone,” Willowshine finally managed. Her words hit like a strike of thunder, tearing away any last glimmer of hope.
All cats were dead silent. The only sound that could be heard was the tormented yowling yowling of the crushed ginger tom. Pouncetail took a deep breath, trying to face this new reality. It weighed on the ginger and white tom’s back like a fallen oak: She was really gone. This brave, selfless, intelligent, friendly she-cat, would no longer be with them.
Pixieflight was an invaluable warrior and friend, and yet not every cat would remember her that way.
After several heartbeats, the ginger and white tom collected himself. With a shuddering breath, Pouncetail lifted himself to his feet and padded over to his fallen friend and her ginger companion.
“Ivy, she’s gone.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Let’s carry her back to-”
“No!” The ginger tom hissed, his fur bristling. He jumped to his paws and whirled on Pouncetail, his tail lashing furiously. “Don’t touch her!” he spat.
Pouncetail flinched and stepped away from the blazing tom. He felt Beechfur and Willowshine tense up near him, a threatening growl beginning in their throats.
“No, wait, stop-” Pouncetail started, not wanting a pointless fight to break out.
All of a sudden, a huge gasp interrupted the silence. Pixieflight’s crystal blue eyes flew open. She let out a tortuous mewl as all eyes widened; aghast.
“What!? How!?” Willowshine exclaimed, rushing over next to the injured she-cat.
Ivy turned around; his fur flattening, and stared into the revived she-cat’s eyes with a stunned, yet enormously relieved expression. “Pixieflight…” he whispered. She met his eyes for a moment, and something flashed in them; some unspoken message the two cats understood. And then she was gone again.
Pixieflight’s eyes drooped, and her consciousness faded from them. Ivy called out to her again as he fell by her side, but she wasn’t there anymore. But she was alive.
“Thank StarClan! They’ve sent her back to us!” Willowshine breathed, as if she didn’t quite believe it herself. “And as long as Mothwing gets here soon, she’ll stay.”
Ivy just nodded while the others crowded. A few moments later, Mothwing exploded into the clearing carrying a mouthful of herbs. Immediately the senior medicine cat went into action; applying herbs and cobwebs to the injured white she-cat’s wounds. Willowshine joined her and the two medicine cats went to work saving the RiverClan warrior’s life.
“Alright, stay with us you reckless she-cat…” Mothwing murmured under her breath.
Eventually, Pixieflight’s side began to rise at a steady pace. Still shallow, but steady. “She’ll live for now,” the senior medicine cat grumbled. “May StarClan be with her.”
“Thank goodness!” A voice gasped weakly from behind the crowd of cats.
Mothwing snapped her head up and turned to face the voice. It was Wildpaw. The young apprentice was barely staying on her feet, leaning onto a young rowan for support. Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps. Wildpaw’s eyelids fluttered, but she refused to collapse.
“Wildpaw, you fish-brain, I told you to rest!” Mothwing shouted, anger mixing with concern. “Pixieflight is fine, we’ve got her! How can you be so foolish!”
Despite herself, the young apprentice’s eyes gleamed definitely. “I will not sleep while Pixieflight is so badly injured! You know she could have died!” Wildpaw declared boldly.
Mothwing’s eyes flashed. “Oh, yes I do! But I also know your reckless behavior could cost you your own life! Don’t be fish-brained!”
In spite of the grievous circumstances, Pouncetail and Rippletail let out a chuckle as the medicine cat and apprentice bickered on. Wildpaw and Mothwing had always been close, given Wildpaw’s special needs. But the two of them argued constantly because the young gray she-cat resented everything the old golden she-cat said about her health.
Even after the events of the battle, and the horrible situation Pixieflight was in, Pouncetail felt the slightest weight lift off his shoulders as the two fiery she-cats went at it like usual. The ginger and white tom volunteered to go on ahead and inform Leopardstar about what happened as Willowshine, Mothwing, Ivy and Minnowtail all helped carry the limp white she-cat back to camp. Pouncetail could still hear the stubborn apprentice and exasperated medicine cat yapping and growling as he padded off toward home.
***
When the RiverClan cats finally reached the camp, everyone was in disarray. Warriors, queens, kits, and apprentices swarmed the returning cats and swamped them with questions; concern filling their eyes.
Both Mothwing and Willowshine couldn’t keep up with the barrage and were quickly overwhelmed. “Silence! Let us to the medicine den! We have injured warriors to care for,” Mothwing spat impatiently.
Instantly, the crowd parted for the injured and the medicine cats, but not for a moment were they silent. Wildpaw attempted to escape the elder medicine cat’s care, but the young she-cat was denied.
“Don’t you think I forgot about you! Get in here and rest those limbs, you’ve worked much too hard today,” Mothwing ordered firmly.
Wildpaw winced as the old golden she-cat spoke; she knew what was next. “Too hard!” a seething voice sneered from behind. Wildpaw shut her eyes in dismay. There it is…
“As if this pitiful kittypet has done a decent load of work in her life! If she was any kind of useful cat, nobody would have gotten hurt!” the scorning voice of Foggypaw continued.
Flintpaw’s brother had resented Wildpaw since the moment they met. He hated kittypets with an uncompromising passion, and in his disgust at being forced to nurse with her, Foggypaw had made it his personal mission to make sure no cat forgot her incompetence.
Flintpaw had always defended Wildpaw against his brother, and she was eternally grateful, but she was also sorry for the tension she’d caused between them. He spoke up now; “Leave her alone, Foggypaw! Wildpaw did all she could!” the striped gray tom hissed.
Foggypaw whirled on his brother. “Apparently that’s just not enough! If Wildpaw wasn’t a fish-brained kittypet, and actually a decent warrior; she could have fought instead of abandoning her own mentor to deliver a message!”
Flintpaw yowled and braced himself to pounce. The two brothers lashed their tails and their eyes burned into each other’s skulls.
“Enough!” Mothwing’s voice rang out brimming with rage. “You’re the fish-brain!” the old medicine cat hissed at the dappled gray apprentice. “Wildpaw was right to fetch the patrol, it was an invasion of RiverClan territory and Russetfur was there! And I can assure you she went of her own mentor’s accord, so you keep your mouth shut!” she snapped, turning around to her den and signaling for Wildpaw to follow.
Before the gray she-cat turned to obey, she quickly brushed her muzzle against Flintpaw’s scruff to gesture her appreciation. Wildpaw looked into the striped tom’s pale blue eyes; worried she would see irritation there, but instead she found only affection.
“Don’t worry,” the gray tom whispered warmly. “He’s not my brother if he can’t see your worth.”
Wildpaw’s heart was filled to the brim, and she turned away towards the medicine den. As she neared, the prospect of sleep overwhelmed her mind, and the she-cat staggered in her step, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.
Suddenly, the young apprentice felt every aching muscle in her body as she dragged herself to the medicine den, and collapsed on a nest to sleep.
Chapter 17
“Has she improved much?” Minnowtail asked the dreary old medicine cat; feeling quite down herself.
Next to the gray and white she-cat, Dawnflower meowed anxiously, “Or at all!?”
Minnowtail sighed, and she heard Mothwing do the same. It had been a half moon since the attack at small Thunderpath, and three sunrises since the last Gathering.
Minnowtail closed her eyes in dismay at the thought. That was quite the affair. They had only narrowly escaped full blown war; right under the full moon.
Leopardstar had been terribly upset, and Blackstar had overstepped his boundaries while using the truce as a shield. Soon enough, ThunderClan and WindClan had joined in, and the three clans would’ve torn ShadowClan to shreds if StarClan hadn’t blocked out the moon.
Minnowtail shook her head at the thought. It had been too close a call. And the tension with ShadowClan hadn’t faded very much. Every clan was on edge, and RiverClan still had a severely injured warrior to worry about.
After a few heartbeats, Mothwing looked up and replied, “She’s still alive, StarClan with her. But there isn’t anything more I can do. I’m sorry, but it’s up to StarClan now,” the golden medicine cat answered heavily.
Dawnflower sat down and put her head in her paws. “Oh, Pixieflight… my poor kit…” she murmured despairingly.
A few tail-lengths away, a gray and black tabby tom sat; his back turned away from them, but his head turned to look over his shoulder. It was Darkcloud, one of Dawnflower’s other kits and Minnowtail’s younger brother. He stared at his mother, a mix of concern and distaste in his gaze.
Even though the gray tabby tom looked away a second later, Mothwing didn’t let his scornful glance go unnoticed. “Hey! You there!” She yowled. “Your mother is upset because your sister is hurt. Want to be a good son instead of throwing a glare?” The golden she-cat’s words were seething, and Minnowtail flinched in surprise.
The gray and white she-cat flinched equally when Darkcloud spud around on his unsheathed paws and growled. “Don’t tell me what to do you old fool!” Mothwing’s fur bristled and she growled warningly, but the smokey gray cat hissed and continued. “And that fluffy kittypet isn’t my sister! She’s not even a clan cat!” he spat.
Now it was Minnowtail’s turn to yowl. Her impudent young brother’s words flared up seasons of defensive emotions and it was all she could do not to hurl herself at the overgrown kit.
“Enough, Darkcloud! Don’t speak so harshly about your denmate,” Dawnflower reprimanded wearily, but sternly. “And don’t hurl insults at your medicine cat!” she added.
Darkcloud mumbled to himself, and turning around he said, “I’m not a kit anymore, Dawnflower. You can’t control me.”
Mothwing sent him running with a yowl and a leap, and the he was gone into the warriors den. “I say, that one sets me off like no other cat…” the medicine cat grumbled bitterly.
Dawnflower sighed, resting her head on her paws again. “He’s not as cold-hearted as he seems. He’s just proud, and doesn’t communicate well. Plus he has that Stormypelt’s influence. He really does love Pixieflight as a sister… They were really close denmates…” Dawnflower’s eyes flooded with sorrow.
Mothwing made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “They were. Until he found out where she came from. They’ve hardly shared tongues since then. Not without spitting at each other. And that Emberheart too, she kept her distance from both of them,” the old medicine cat observed bitterly.
Minnowtail listened quietly to the two she-cats sharing tongues about Pixieflight's 'littermates'. She felt sorry for Dawnflower, but it was true their family didn’t get along. The others had never really accepted Pixieflight.
But Minnowtail grew thoughtful when Mothwing mentioned Emberheart. The black she-cat had been quiet ever since an incident in her apprenticeship, and preferred being alone.
But Minnowtail had noticed something the day that Pixieflight had gotten hurt. It was the same thing she had seen the day Pixieflight had fallen in the river during her apprenticeship: fear. The wide open terror for another cat that could only be fueled by love.
Minnowtail’s timid younger sister hardly spoke to her siblings, but there was no doubt in Minnowtail’s mind that she loved them.
Minnowtail was awoken from her day-dreaming when Willowshine emerged from the medicine den. Mothwing turned to greet her. “Oh, there you are. Is he still in there?” the old medicine cat inquired, somewhat hesitantly.
Willowshine nodded sadly. “He won’t leave her.”
Minnowtail’s tail drooped as she realized who they were talking about.
Ivy had stayed by Pixieflight’s side since the medicine cats laid her to rest, and he refused to leave for any reason. The ginger tom wouldn’t eat unless some cat brought him food, and he never returned to his den, even to sleep.
“The poor thing…” Minnowtail mumbled, remembering how she had teased Pixieflight about her romancing just a little while before the attack. “He must really love her,” she said.
“Love or not, he’s becoming a real nuisance. Takes up space and wakes us up with his yowling in his sleep!” Mothwing grumbled.
Even though the medicine cat’s words were harsh, Minnowtail knew she was really concerned for Ivy. He had hardly had a full night of sleep because of his nightmares, and he was growing weak and thin from barely eating or exercising. There were growing murmurs about how he was an inconvenience to the clan, and that Leopardstar shouldn’t allow him to stay.
Minnowtail was beginning to get concerned for the ginger tom aswell. If he didn’t start hunting for himself soon, Leopardstar might just have to follow through on that.
***
Ivy nestled his muzzle further into the sleeping she-cat’s thick, soft, white fur. He could hear her shallow, unsteady breathing, and feel her side rise and shudder. Concern flowed through the ginger tom, but he knew there was nothing he could do but wait and hope.
And pray. Oh, StarClan save her, please! Ivy squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think of what he would do if they didn’t. She had to live; Ivy couldn’t take it if she died.
“Oh, Snowball…” he murmured, thinking of how she was one of the only cats who had accepted him in RiverClan. About how much he had missed her even though he had barely known her before. He thought about the endless sunsets and meal-times they had spent together over the moons, sharing tongues and laughing with each other.
Ivy’s vision blurred as he thought of the day all that was torn from him. When he had seen her body there; when he had thought that she was gone…
“Pixieflight!” the desperate ginger tom wailed. “Please, come back to me!”
A few heartbeats later, Ivy heard pawsteps padding up from behind him. He recognized the scent as Mothwing, and then scented Willowshine bound up to follow her.
Ivy sighed, preparing for another argument. But Mothwing didn’t stop, and instead beckoned Willowshine to follow her to the other side of the den. The two medicine cats discussed something in low voices; clearly not wanting Ivy to hear.
Curious, the ginger tom perked his ears to eavesdrop. He could only hear pieces, but Mothwing was whispering, “Try applying... again... ...miracle she’s... this long,”
Ivy narrowed his eyes, not sure whether to be worried, angry, or something else. But they were definitely talking about Pixieflight, and it didn’t sound to good.
Worms crawled in Ivy’s belly as he pondered the old medicine cat’s words.
Ivy perked up again when Willowshine whispered a little clearer, “StarClan has been with her until now, we shouldn’t waste our time worrying they won’t stay.” Ivy let out a small sigh of relief at the young she-cat’s comforting words, despite Mothwing's grim and eerie silence.
But Willowshine went on. “The problem which we can control might be needing our attention, though,” the dark gray tabby hinted.
Ivy flicked his ear in annoyance, immediately realizing what the younger medicine cat was talking about. They’re talking about me. The controllable problem. Great. Ivy thought sarcastically, letting out a grunt. If they think they can make me leave her side…
Mothwing’s voice cut of the ginger tom’s thoughts. The golden she-cat spoke with sudden volume, “Yes, Willowshine. Very true indeed. Excuse us, please,” she added to the dark gray she-cat, and Willowshine nodded and exited the den.
Mothwing stepped closer to the two cats lying on the medicine den floor, and sat down, clearing her throat. Ivy grunted again, refusing eye-contact.
Still turned away, Ivy said, “I won’t leave her, you know. You can’t make me.”
To Ivy’s surprise, Mothwing snorted and continued in a mocking tone, “Oh can’t I? Hm? Well maybe no, I can’t. But Leopardstar can. So can many of your so-called clanmates who want to kick you out for being a burden,” the snarky golden she-cat explained.
Ivy sat up in shock, his eyes wide with fear. “Do you really mean that? They’ll kick me out?” he exclaimed at the medicine cat in horror.
Mothwing sighed and shook her head. “I’m afraid I do. But imagine their position! You; a rogue from ShadowClan, joined RiverClan and then stopped hunting for the clan, patrolling, and all else, and on top of that still eat the food that your clan has caught. Even though you are perfectly capable and wouldn’t be a part of RiverClan if Leopardstar hadn’t allowed you,” the medicine cat finished.
Ivy looked down at his paws in shame. “I know… You’re right…” he murmured. The ginger tom scratched the dirt with his claws uncomfortably. “But… she needs me,” Ivy mewed, although he knew he had lost the argument. He just wished it wasn’t so. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her, or even worse; if she left, and while he was gone…
Ivy was startled from his thoughts when he felt Mothwing’s tail tip on his shoulder. The uncertain tom looked up into the medicine cat’s amber eyes. They were filled with warmth and compassion. “Don’t fret, silly cat. She’ll still be here when you get back. I promise you,” she assured him.
Ivy knew there was no way the golden she-cat could promise such a thing, but her words gave him comfort nonetheless. He nodded thankfully, and then with a goodbye nuzzle to Pixieflight, he turned around and left the medicine den.
Chapter 18
The sky was a bright and dazzling blue, and the pure white, puffy clouds reminded the she-cat of her own fluffy pelt. The soft earth was laden with fresh green grass that felt lovely against her weary pads.
As Pixieflight ran and ran her exhaustion and pain began to fade and she felt a new warmth, a new lightness in her limbs. Her bones no longer ached, and her neck wasn’t so stiff anymore. The racing white she-cat loved this new feeling that surged inside of her, but for some reason, she couldn’t remember where the old pain had come from.
Why had her body ached so? Why had she been so dreadfully tired? And why did she not recognise this beautiful lush valley that she tread upon? What was that tingling feeling gnawing at the edge of her mind? There seemed to be something very important she was forgetting…
“Pixieflight!” A voice screeched suddenly from all around her.
Tallpoppy! The name immediately came to mind and the fuzzy she-cat stopped in her tracks and whirled around, searching for the source of the oddly familiar voice. But there was no cat near her, nor anywhere she could see.
It felt odd to the troubled she-cat that in her memory, the voice had seemingly come from everywhere at once. And even odder still that at the exact moment she had heard the voice calling her, the scene before Pixieflight’s eyes had changed dramatically. The dazzling colours around her had in a flash faded to dull grays. For a single heartbeat, Pixieflight had seen the ceiling of a familiar den.
But where do I remember it from? Pixieflight shook her head, annoyed at how much it hurt to think. She clawed the luscious earth in frustration, trying to recall… anything! Where am I!? How did I get here!? What is going on!? The poor she-cat’s brain shrieked, unable to piece together a single solid memory.
All of a sudden, the bright day turned to night, and the sky filled with shimmering stars. Pixieflight’s heart pounded as she realized where she was. I’ve died… But how? And why does it feel so wrong? Like I shouldn’t be here… A memory flooded her mind of a voice saying those exact words: “You shouldn’t be here…”
Panic struck Pixieflight as she saw the stars begin to change. Somehow, she knew she had to get out of here. I can’t die! The thought soared in her mind as she turned around and fled from the falling stars. This is not where I belong!
That was the last thought on the she-cat’s kind as the world suddenly went dark.
***
“Do you want to hunt with us?” Wildpaw heard Pouncetail offer the dejected ginger tom.
Ivy had surprised everyone last sunrise by coming out of the medicine den and hunting on his own. He had brought back a small mouse and a squirrel. He had eaten the mouse and returned to the medicine den with Pixieflight.
This sunrise he came out again, and now accepted Pouncetail’s offer to hunt with him Flintpaw and Wildpaw. Since Pixieflight was injured, Pouncetail had taken over mentoring Wildpaw, and the ginger and white tom did an excellent job even while having his own apprentice to worry about. Wildpaw was glad to spend time with him and Flintpaw, but the young apprentice was worried she was holding them back.
As the four cats travelled towards the streambed, Wildpaw kept glancing back at Ivy. The once witty and cheery tom was dreadfully silent, and his tail dragged behind him as he walked. Wildpaw felt a pang of sadness for him, and even more wished that Pixieflight would recover soon so everyone could go back to normal.
Wildpaw felt guilty for not visiting Pixieflight that much, but she wanted to let Ivy have time alone, and she was awfully busy with training. Even though Pouncetail had two apprentices to worry about, he was not giving the young cats any slack.
Or at least, no more than he has to... Wildpaw thought grimly, recalling painfully the events of their last hunting patrol.
The clumsy gray she-cat had thought she had finally mastered her fishing stance that Pouncetail had been teaching her. She had held her position properly as she waited, but all was lost when she sighted the silver flash of a fish.
In her excitement, she had stumbled awkwardly; her one paw extended, she had nearly caught onto the dashing silver fish’s tail.
But Wildpaw had just barely missed, and instead stumbled for a heartbeat before falling face first into the frigid water. Never in her life had Wildpaw felt so stupid and embarrassed. Pouncetail and Flintpaw had been kind and graceful, but the young apprentice would never live it down.
“Mouse!” Flintpaw hissed, instantly dropping to a crouch. They had not yet arrived at the stream.
Wildpaw envied her denmates sharp senses and natural hunting ability, especially as she crouched next to him, trying as hard as she could to copy the striped tom’s perfect stance.
“It’s yours if you can get it, Flintpaw,” Pouncetail challenged his apprentice.
Flintpaw needed no second prompting. Wildpaw felt the muscular tom’s body bunch up, and then felt the wind as he lept. Flintpaw soared in the air for half a heartbeat before landing perfectly on top of his prey, finishing it off with a killing bite.
As the star apprentice returned with his prey in his jaws, Pouncetail praised him. “Good work, you might just become the finest hunter in RiverClan!” he meowed, clearly impressed.
Wildpaw purred and brushed his flank with her muzzle. He looked back at her, his brilliant green eyes shining with pride. Wildpaw wished she could disown the pang of jealousy that hit her then. Why does he get to be so perfect? Why can’t that be me?
The gray shorthair shook herself, suddenly remembering Ivy. The ginger tom had been silent since their walk had began. Wildpaw turned to speak to him, and possibly comfort him about Pixieflight, but found that the ex-rogue tom was no longer behind them.
“Ivy?” she blurted, looking around for any sign of the dismal tom’s ginger fur.
Pouncetail and Flintpaw joined in, but no cat knew where he had gone. “Let’s keep going,” Pouncetail said at last. “He’s probably gone to hunt for himself. I bet he doesn’t prefer fishing,” the ginger and white tom explained with a slightly irritated sigh. As he turned around to continue he added, “Bury the mouse here. We’ll get it later.”
And with that, they continued on their way.
***
Ivy tensed himself, hoping that the scraggly undergrowth in RiverClan’s territory was enough to conceal him from his prey. The ginger tom was having a some trouble adjusting from his past hunting experience, but as an ex-rogue he was used to adjustment.
Ivy knew he should have stayed with the others. They were the only cats to be kind to him in RiverClan besides Pixieflight, and he had accepted their offer.
But Ivy wasn’t a fish kind of cat.
He had yet to catch a single prey from the river, and wasn’t particularly planning on it. If it had been any other situation, the ginger tom would have been willing to learn, but as it was, Ivy only wanted to hunt quickly so he could get back to Pixieflight.
The distracted tom’s attention returned to his hunt as the pigeon he was stalking hoped closer to Ivy’s hiding place. The pale, plump bird pecked at the ground nonchalantly, assuring Ivy that his cover was indeed sufficient. For a few prolonged heartbeats there was a stiff silence. Then, Ivy readjusted his stance, and leaped.
The dispirited tom wrestled the bird for a couple of heartbeats, temporarily blinded by its fluttering wings. With an impatient burst of energy, Ivy raked his claws against the over-sized prey’s wing; pinning it to the ground, and then killed it off with a ferocious bite to the neck.
The panting tom felt the pigeon fall limp in his jaws, and dropped it to the ground in contempt. He was not in the mood for this.
Ivy knew full well that he had to hunt for the clan; Mothwing had been very convincing. But the only thing on the ginger tom’s mind was Pixieflight, and all he wanted to do was get over with hunting so he could return to the white she-cat’s side.
Ivy breathed a heavy sigh, staring down at his fresh-kill. Technically, I’ve finished already… The tempting thought came to mind. He could bring this and say it was all he could find, but he knew that wouldn’t work. And besides, he had a little more honour than that.
With another begrudging sigh, Ivy heaved himself to his paws, and after burying his kill, he padded off to continue hunting.
Please wait for me Pixieflight, Ivy prayed silently. I’ll come back soon.
Chapter 19
“Go to sleep, little one,” Dawnflower’s voice flooded Pixieflight’s sleepy mind as she started to blink her eyes open.
Towering before the white she-cat was the large, glossy, pale gray pelt of her mother. The fluffy bundle opened her mouth to speak, but it only came out as a tiny mewl.
“There, there, don’t fret,” Dawnflower’s soothing purr felt comforting to the white kit. “I’m right here, I’m right here…”
The puny kit snuggled up against her mother and her two littermates, and then, wrapped in their tender warmth, she fell asleep.
When she awoke again, she felt bigger and stronger, and when she opened her mouth words came out. “Mother, are you there?” she called, lifting her tired head.
Dawnflower turned around and walked up next to her. “Of course I am, sleepy-head. Your brother and sister and I all got up before you,” she replied playfully.
“Oh,” the fuzzy kit responded, still half asleep.
“Oh, and I have exciting news!” Dawnflower added, turning towards the nursery entrance where her other son and daughter were peeking out of. “Kits, come over here, please,” she called to them.
The smokey dark tom and black she-cat turned around and wobbled over to their mother obediently. The she-cat sat a little ways away from the white she-cat, but the tom waddled in between them, brushing the fluffy kit’s flank affectionately.
Dawnflower gathered her kits around with a sweep of her tail and looked lovingly into their eyes. “I’m giving you your names now,” she purred.
The kits let out squeaks of joy, just as Rippletail and Minnowpaw walked into the nursery.
“So it is today?” Minnowpaw clarified, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
Dawnflower nodded to her older daughter and turned her attention back to her younger kits. She gestured to the black she-cat. “Your name shall be Emberkit,” the pale gray queen announced.
Emberkit gasped and straightened herself at the words. Though she said nothing, her eyes gleamed with wonder. Minnowpaw meowed approvingly and Rippletail nodded. Next, Dawnflower laid her tail tip on the tom. “You will be Darkkit,” she stated, giving his small head a lick. Darkkit mewed excitedly, giving a short leap.
Finally, Dawnflower faced the white she-cat. “And you,” she meowed lovingly, running her tail down the tiny kit’s back. “Will be Fluffkit.”
The white kit blinked. For a few heartbeats, all was silent. She stared blankly at her mother, uncomprehending. Then, slowly but surely, she shook her head.
“No,” the fluffy white kit mewed. “I’m Pixiekit.”
The scene before Pixieflight disappeared with a start, and she suddenly realized she had been reliving a memory from her kit-hood. But her awakening was nothing of the sort.
Pixieflight found herself in the midst of never-ending darkness, unable to see her own paws in front of her. And within the darkness, all she could feel was an awful, aching pain.
It attacked her suddenly and coursed through her body, searing in the white she-cat’s neck. She couldn’t escape it; it was dreadful. Pain; unending pain, tormenting pain, all over her weak, frail, exhausted body. Pixieflight felt that she could no longer go on.
Was this what she had wanted? Why had she ever left that glorious forest? Some cat, end this suffering! Her mind cried out desperately. She couldn’t bear the agony any longer.
Please, make it stop!
***
“Willowshine, I need more poppy seeds! They’ve worn off and she’s twitching in her sleep!” Mothwing’s order snapped the younger medicine cat out of her daze, and she sprinted away to follow her mentor’s wishes.
But as Willowshine searched their storage, the dark gray tabby she-cat froze suddenly. We’ve run out of poppy seeds! In a rush of panic, Willowshine whirled to face the senior medicine cat and squealed, “We don’t have any!”
Shock and concern filled the golden she-cat’s amber eyes and she shook her head in dismay. “Oh, stars! Go get some more! Pixieflight’s in pain, and she’ll undress her wound if she keeps wriggling like this…” Mothwing didn’t continue, but Willowshine knew the rest of what the old medicine cat was thinking.
As the younger medicine cat turned and dashed out to retrieve the seeds, the importance of her mission pounded in her brain. If we don’t ease Pixieflight’s suffering soon, the pain may kill her!
As the dark gray she-cat’s paws drummed the earth, the dirt felt coarse and hard against her paw-pads. She sniffed the air, and found it was tinged with frost. Panic burst in the young she-cat’s chest, and she picked up her pace. Oh, StarClan, please let there still be poppy flowers! Willowshine silently prayed.
The young medicine cat came to a stop in the meadow near the stream, and searched around for poppy seed flowers. As the dark gray she-cat was scouring the meadow, she vaguely noticed Pouncetail and his two apprentices pad up behind her.
“Poppy seeds… poppy seeds…” Willowshine mumbled to herself.
Pouncetail cocked his head quizzically. “What’s the matter, Willowshine? ...Looking for poppy seed?” the ginger and white tom asked.
“For Pixieflight,” Willowshine answered distractedly. The she perked up suddenly and turned to the three cats. “Come, help me look! Poppy seeds are found in a bright red flower,” she instructed urgently, and then turned back to her search.
They agreed and began looking around the meadow. Wildpaw called to Willowshine as she looked. “Is Pixieflight okay?” Her distress was evident in her mew.
Willowshine wished she could comfort the poor apprentice. “She needs poppy seeds,” was all the young medicine cat replied.
“I found one!” Flintpaw yowled from across the meadow. Willowshine’s head shot up and she bounded over to the younger gray tom in three strides.
When she arrived, the apprentice gestured towards a shriveled red mass of petals, already turned mostly gray from rot and frost. “Is it any good?” Flintpaw asked reproachfully.
Disappointment filled the dark gray tabby, but she forced herself to be hopeful. She dug her muzzle into the dead flower in search of any good seeds. The smell of rot mixed with the smell of poppy seeds as Willowshine proceeded to rip apart the pale, limp petals. With the edge petals came loads of dry seeds, shriveled and useless.
As she tore off a few of the petals in the inner rim, a thrill of excitement tore through Willowshine as a bunch of healthy seeds rolled onto a discarded petal. Most of the seeds were too small and wrinkled, but there were enough others that were good enough.
Delicately and without a word, the young medicine cat picked up the good seeds in her jaws, and turned around to head back to camp.
Willowshine heard Pouncetail’s meow behind her. “Wildpaw, you can go with Willowshine, we’ll see if we can find anymore poppy seeds.” The yellow she-cat was grateful for Pouncetail’s sense while she had been to distracted to tell the other cats to do so herself.
The apprentice gray she-cat surprised Willowshine by catching up in just a few strides. The young she-cat’s training must be doing her good. Willowshine thought. Maybe the clumsy, pudgy apprentice would make a good warrior after all.
“Pixieflight will be okay now, won’t she?” Wildpaw’s sudden question caught Willowshine off-guard.
Unable to reassure her, the junior medicine cat said nothing; not daring to meet the apprentice’s gaze, but instead staring straight ahead in the silence. Wildpaw did not reply either.
When they reached the medicine den, Ivy was waiting for them. “Willowshine!” the distraught tom exclaimed. “Hurry, she’s suffering!”
Mothwing looked up from her work, and wordlessly snatched the poppy seeds from where Willowshine had dropped them on the floor and kneeling by Pixieflight. The senior medicine cat didn’t waste time making a poultice, but instead crushed them in her jaws and slipped them into the writhing she-cat’s mouth.
“There, there,” Mothwing soothed. “Swallow it up…”
Willowshine stood frozen, waiting for Pixieflight’s agony to end. Wildpaw came up behind him as Ivy shifted apprehensively on his paws, pressing his muzzle into the white she-cat’s flank as her jerky movements ceased.
Finally, her breathing steadied, and the she-cat slept soundly again.
Chapter 20
Mothwing glowered at him, her hackles suddenly raised. “That is not your choice to make,” she growled. “Do I have to remind you that as a warrior of RiverClan, you have no choice but to obey your leader?” she added.
Ivy noted that Mothwing wasn’t in the mood for him either. He also noted that the wise golden she-cat was once again right, and he was getting quite annoyed with that.
The ginger tom sighed, glancing to his side at Pixieflight. “You’ll keep her alive, won’t you?” he asked, his tone defeated. “Until I get back?”
Ivy sensed the old medicine cat relax, and watched her gaze soften towards him. “You know I’ll do all I can,” she replied gently.
Ivy sighed again. “Why does Leopardstar want me again?” he asked, certain that Mothwing would not have an answer for him.
He was right. “I have no clue. She might not be in her right mind,” Mothwing grumbled.
Ivy smirked at the golden she-cat. “As a warrior of RiverClan, shouldn’t you respect your leader?” he asked in mock innocence.
Mothwing shot him a playful glare. “I am no warrior,” she replied.
Later, Ivy stood among a group of RiverClan cats before Leopardstar, as she prepared to go on to the Gathering. Ivy flicked his ear in surprise as he noticed Wildpaw was also attending with Foggypaw and Flintpaw.
Pouncetail had told him Wildpaw used to be a kittypet, and the ginger tom had heard from Pixieflight that former kittypet cats like herself didn’t go to Gatherings unless there was some special reason.
Maybe Leopardstar was softening towards them because of Pixieflight’s injury. Ivy shook off the thought and focused on following Leopardstar’s signal to follow. Among Ivy, Pouncetail, Minnowtail, Beechfur, Mosspelt, Blackclaw, Mistyfoot and Willowshine were also attending the Gathering. Mothwing was staying behind to care for Pixieflight.
As the thought of the fuzzy white she-cat entered his mind again, his heart ached for her company. The ginger tom hated to leave her, and he longed to her her sweet voice again. And to see her pretty blue eyes. As the RiverClan cats left the camp, Ivy shot one last glance at the medicine den, sending a prayer to StarClan to keep her safe.
Pouncetail brushed up against Ivy’s flank comfortingly. “She’ll be alright, Ivy,” The ginger and white tom assured him. “Think about the Gathering. All the cats you’ll see!”
Ivy’s eyes widened. He wished Pouncetail hadn’t mentioned that. The ginger tom realized he was going to see his old clan again, and this time he couldn’t tear out their throats. And they can’t tear out yours. Ivy remembered Smokefoot, and he realized they wouldn’t be happy to see him either.
But Blackstar and Russetfur will be there… Ivy’s eyes darkened as he thought of meeting those two again. Briefly the tom worried he wouldn’t be able to keep the truce. But he wasn’t that dumb. Even if he might be tempted, Ivy wouldn’t be mouse-brained enough to challenge them. Not at the Gathering anyway...
“We’re here,” Pouncetail murmured, nudging Ivy out of his thoughts.
The ginger tom stiffened as the scents of WindClan, ThunderClan, and ShadowClan filled his nose. Ivy recognized Blackstar’s scent immediately, followed by Russetfur, and his fur bristled in rage. It flattened; however, when he smelled a cat he had not expected to find with them.
As the RiverClan cats entered the clearing, Ivy did his best to hide himself from his former clan, but unfortunately their noses were as good as his.
“Ivypaw?” the sweet voice of the ShadowClan she-cat called uncertainly behind the ginger tom. Ivy froze, and then turned around slowly to face Tawnypelt. Of all the cats in his former clan, she had been the kindest to him other than Tallpoppy. She alone had objected to Ivy’s banishment, and had suffered greatly for it.
“I… go by Ivy now,” he corrected Tawnypelt gently.
The tortoiseshell shook her fur. “You’ll always be Ivypaw to me. You would have some great warrior name now, though,” she replied somewhat bitterly.
Ivy looked down at his paws. “You shouldn’t be talking to me,” he mumbled, a mix of emotions washing over his pelt.
Tawnypelt narrowed her eyes at the dejected ginger tom. “What? Why not? It’s a Gathering, I can talk to whom I like,” she snorted.
Ivy looked up at her, a pleading look in his emerald eyes. “You can’t! Blackstar thinks of me as a traitor,” the words burned in Ivy’s throat, but he continued. He didn’t want Tawnypelt punished because of him again. “And I- I killed Smokefoot,” he stammered.
The tortoiseshell she-cat paused a moment, a look of surprise crossing her face. But then it faded and she faced Ivy levely. “Why did you do that?” her calm tone caught Ivy off guard. The ginger tom fumbled and struggled to form words.
“Uh, I- he… He hurt my friend,” Ivy managed, still shocked that the ShadowClan she-cat was not angry.
Tawnypelt nodded distractedly, her eyes scanning the clearing. “Right,” she mewed. “The uh… she-cat right? The one Leopardstar was angry about?”
Ivy stared at her in surprise. “Leopardstar was angry?” he asked, wondering why the RiverClan leader cared so much about her half-clan cats. He told himself it was reasonable for Leopardstar to be upset about an attack like that, and a severely injured warrior, but the business with him and Wildpaw wouldn’t leave his mind. Perhaps Mistyfoot had something to do with it…
“Well, of course she was angry! Weren’t you?” Tawnypelt snapped the ginger tom out of his daze. But before Ivy could reply, he heard a yowl from the Great Oak, and realized with a flood of disappointment that the Gathering had commenced.
He said a short goodbye to Tawnypelt, and then headed back to RiverClan’s group. Before he made it, however, he caught a look from Blackstar from on top of one of the great branches. Ivy had expected to see open malice, or amusement, but instead he found something he didn’t recognize.
Ivy’s entire body stiffened as he sensed Russetfur pass. Her strong ShadowClan scent filled his nose as her green gaze seethed out hatred. After the ShadowClan deputy passed Ivy let out a shudder. There was the greeting the ginger tom had been expecting.
Ivy sat next to Pouncetail, and noticed Wildpaw sitting next to Flintpaw, her ears down and tail limp. Foggypaw pranced away from a group of ThunderClan and WindClan apprentices, his face smug. He sneered at Wildpaw as he sat at the opposite end of the group from her and his brother.
Ivy bristled angrily. That stuck-up apprentice wouldn’t leave Pixieflight’s apprentice alone. He was glad that the frog-brain’s brother was looking out for her, but Ivy wished he could claw Foggypaw’s ear for his nonsense.
Wildpaw was staring wistfully towards the ThunderClan and WindClan groups, her gaze full of sorrow. Ivy figured Foggypaw had told them about her kittypet past, and probably threw in a bunch of stories of how hard the apprentice was struggling in her training. Ivy dug his claws into the ground as Onestar began sharing his news.
Flintpaw wrapped his tail around the depressed young she-cat, but her ears remained down. As he watched Foggypaw sitting so gleefully, Ivy decided he would have a personal chat with the haughty load of fox-dung after the Gathering.
Onestar stepped down, and then Leopardstar came up to share her news. A look flashed in his leader’s eyes, and Ivy knew she was going to mention Pixieflight.
“Our injured warrior has yet to recover from the detestable attack by the ShadowClan patrol!” Leopardstar yowled, shooting a hard glare at Blackstar.
Ivy’s eyes widened in shock. The RiverClan leader would be so quick and bold to antagonize Blackstar about his attack? Is she trying to start a war?
The spotted she-cat continued, sweeping her gaze over all the gathered cats. “And while that is the case, the rest of RiverClan’s warriors are strong and fit. Twice as ready for any who wish to oppose us!” Yowls of surprise and anger rose up from all the clans.
Ivy flattened his ears, looking around at the other hissing and spitting clan cats cautiously. Their eyes blazed with indignation. Why was Leopardstar being so bluntly hostile? The other clans hadn’t done anything to harm RiverClan!
Just as Ivy feared a fight would break out, Firestar stepped up beside the RiverClan leader. “Leopardstar,” he meowed. “We understand that ShadowClan has crossed their boundaries and injured your warriors, but the rest of our clans have done nothing to deserve your hostility,” Firestar reasoned with the raging she-cat.
Leopardstar nodded to him, her eyes still burning with fury. She whipped around to face Blackstar. “Firestar speaks the truth, but I will say this! If my warrior dies, Blackstar, ShadowClan will face RiverClan’s wrath!” she seethed.
Roars of outrage came from ShadowClan, while RiverClan was a mix of shocked mewls and battle cries. Blackstar leaped up to face Leopardstar, his eyes dancing with fire. “You seem to forget, Leopardstar, ShadowClan lost a warrior in that skirmish as well! And he does not have a chance at revival!” the muscular ShadowClan leader protested.
But RiverClan’s leader did not back down. “If you did not want to face death, you should never have attacked RiverClan!” Leopardstar’s tail lashed like mad. “All the clans know of your treachery over the past seasons, Blackstar! RiverClan the best! You are not deserving of our pity!” the spotted she-cat spat.
Blackstar let out a growl and braced himself to leap at the RiverClan she-cat. Every cat braced themselves for a full-on battle under the glimmering moon, but just before Backstar leaped, the clearing was consumed by darkness.
“The moon! StarClan has covered the moon!” Littlecloud cried amid the pitch black void.
After a long period of terror and fear-scent, Firestar called out, “The Gathering is over!”
And slowly, as the cats found their ways out, the clouds moved away from the full moon. Willowshine winced as the clans filed away from the island. “That went as well as the last time,” she mewed nervously.
Ivy twitched his ear, pondering Leopardstar’s overly hostile attitude. Would she have been that angry, if any other warrior had been hurt? Ivy told himself that that was true. Leopardstar just cared a lot for her clan. But something told him there was more to it than that.
“Small Thunderpath. Two sunrises from now. Be there,” A low voice murmured briefly as it passed behind him.
Ivy stood stock still behind the rest of the RiverClan group. He knew that voice… It was Blackstar! What does that frog-brained mange-pelt want?
Chapter 21
“Off to the nest, kittypet?” A sneering voice spoke from behind the apprentice she-cat.
“Do you want something, Foggypaw?” Wildpaw meowed; thoroughly resigned.
Flintpaw’s aggressive brother had left her alone just long enough for Flintpaw to leave her to battle train with Pouncetail. The kind toms had offered that Wildpaw join them, but the young apprentice hadn’t been in the mood after the events of the Gathering. Now the gray she-cat was having second thoughts.
Foggypaw scoffed in response. “Nothing from you,” he replied.
Wildpaw sighed, tired of dealing with the unruly apprentice tom. “Great. May I leave now?”
Foggypaw bristled angrily, and unsheathed his claws. “What, is the kittypet to exhausted from her little walk? Does she need a nap? Or are you just sulking because I ruined your Gathering?” he added smugly.
The young she-cat lashed her tail, but didn’t reply. Foggypaw just couldn’t seem to get enough. He already destroyed her reputation as a warrior, and her chance to make new friends. Now he still wanted to rub sand in the wound?
“Aww, did I hurt the kittypet’s feelings?” Foggypaw teased, shoving his muzzle at Wildpaw’s.
That was when the gray shorthair lost it.
In an instant, her head snapped up, and her claws unsheathed with a growl. “Will you ever leave me alone?” she spat, surprising herself. Wildpaw took a step forward and continued. “When is this going to stop, Foggypaw? Do you get some kind of kick out of hurting me? What did I ever do to you!?” All of Wildpaw’s burning questions spilled out in rage as she slashed her tail; her eyes blazing at Foggypaw.
The light gray tom teased and bullied Wildpaw, day after day, for no good reason. Except that she was a kittypet. Foggypaw had been relentless, constantly picking on her and making her life miserable for the simple fact that she wasn’t clan born.
For a moment, Wildpaw almost backed down when she saw a startled look flash in the young tom’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “Are you feeling strong kittypet? Do you want to fight me? Bring it on!” Foggypaw snarled, falling instantly to a crouch.
But Wildpaw did not follow suit. Instead she stood still and stared at the hostile gray tom, her eyes brimming with despair. The young apprentice just couldn’t understand what was making Foggypaw so angry with her. “Do you really hate me that much!?” she exclaimed, exasperated.
“Yes!” Wildpaw flinched away from her furious clanmate’s harsh declaration.
But Foggypaw was not finished yet. “Yes, I hate you! You’re nothing but a stupid useless kittypet! And no matter what Dapplenose thought, you can never replace my sister!” The light gray tom yowled, barely keeping himself from lashing out at the shorthair she-cat.
Wildpaw blinked in surprise, shocked by Foggypaw’s words. Surely Foggypaw didn’t really think that was any cat’s intention? “You don’t think- Foggypaw, I am in no way replace-”
She got no further.
“Shut your mouth! My mother was the only reason I tolerated you, but now that she’s gone, I don’t have to anymore!” Foggypaw was seething, and there was no confirmation he was going to settle down anytime soon.
Wildpaw glanced towards the warrior's den which the two apprentices were standing alone behind. Wildpaw was worried that Foggypaw would soon attack her if no cat showed up, but at the same time she was glad no cat was there to see them.
“You think you’re so innocent,” The gray tom continued. “You’re not! A kittypet doesn’t deserve to be part of a clan for nothing! Dapplenose only took you because she was mourning my real sister! And then you replaced her! But I’ll never accept it,” Foggypaw broke off, staring down at his paws and taking a deep breath. His head snapped back up. “Poppykit was my sister, not some fish-brained, clumsy kittypet like you!”
Wildpaw crouched low, leaning away from Foggypaw as he yowled at her, and drinking in every word the fuming tom said. So much about Foggypaw made so much sense to her now, and Wildpaw only wished she had realized sooner; before he had become so angry.
“Why do you think you’re worthy of our kinship, of our clan?” Foggypaw asked lividly. “You’re not good for anything!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Foggypaw. You should have told me, I-” Wildpaw began.
“No, stop! I should’ve nothing! It was all you! You ruined everything!” The young tom stopped, his body shaking from head to tail-tip. He took a long, shuddering breath. “I don’t get it… Why did my brother pick you over me? I- I don’t…” Foggypaw murmured to himself, shaking his head.
Wildpaw’s eyes widened as she realized what the gray tom was saying. “Wait, are you talking about Flintpaw!?” she exclaimed in surprise.
Foggypaw hissed spastically, swiping a paw and knocking Wildpaw off her feet. “Of course I’m talking about him!” he spat. “You took him away from me! You; a stupid useless kittypet, took my brother away from me!” As Foggypaw spoke, he battered Wildpaw with blow after blow, hissing and growling like mad.
Wildpaw crouched down, her head in her paws, and let him swipe her. She knew she stood no chance with the stronger apprentice in this state, and she knew he needed to get his anger out somewhere. Foggypaw’s claws raked her ears and flank, stinging painfully every time they struck.
But she let him.
Until a loud yowl interrupted, and Foggypaw was bowled over by a flash of ginger. After a momentary struggle, Ivy’s voice rung out. “That’s enough!” The ginger tom pinned Foggypaw roughly to the ground.
After a long heartbeat or heavy breathing, Ivy spoke again, his glare searing through the younger tom’s skull. “Have you no honour at all? Or are you just a coward, who beats up defenseless opponents to make himself feel stronger?” the ginger tom hissed.
“It wasn’t to feel stronger!” Foggypaw yowled indignantly, struggling to free himself from the muscular tom’s grip.
But Ivy didn’t budge. “Oh?” he asked the apprentice. “Then what was it for? Was she your prey? Or were you teaching her some sort of lesson?” he said sarcastically.
Foggypaw did not give in so easily. “If the kittypet is too weak to defend herself, then she has no place in this clan!” he protested.
Ivy growled, pinning Foggypaw tighter to the ground. The apprentice let out a squeal of pain, but Ivy didn’t let in. “Are you Leopardstar?” he spat. “Because she’s the one who decides who can or can’t be a member of RiverClan!”
“And who are you to tell me this,” Foggypaw replied grumpily. “You’re not a true RiverClan warrior either! You can defend the kittypet out in the wild!”
Ivy dug his claws into the young tom, a malicious growl rumbling in his throat. Foggypaw squirmed in fear as the ginger tom leaned close. “According to your logic, you have no right to say anything because you can’t defend yourself from me,” he hissed.
“Ivy, stop,” Wildpaw pleaded, not wanting the fight to go any further on her behalf.
Ivy turned his gaze towards her, and with a deep breath, he released Foggypaw from his grasp. “Don’t forget,” he grumbled as the apprentice limped away. “If I ever see you pick on her again, I won’t be so merciful.”
Wildpaw closed her eyes and sighed. What a day, she thought tiredly. To Ivy she said, “Thank you for stopping that, but I don’t think he deserves to be hurt or threatened. He’s just mad because I ‘replaced’ his sister and took Flintpaw from him.”
Ivy narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t rough him up a bit for hurting you,” he reasoned, padding over and brushing against her flank.
Wildpaw sighed again. “I guess so,” she agreed. But she couldn’t help thinking that wasn’t the way they should have handled things. Maybe if I didn’t hang out with Flintpaw so much, Foggypaw would forgive me…
But the thought of avoiding Flintpaw made her heart ache, and she decided that wouldn’t be necessary.
“I’m going back to Pixieflight again, want to join me?” Ivy asked over his shoulder.
Wildpaw was filled with guilt as she thought of how little she visited her injured mentor. The young apprentice nodded. “Yes, I will,” she replied, and followed the ginger tom to the medicine den.
Chapter 22
“What are you doing here?” Ivy grumbled tiredly, confused by the sight of Darkcloud creeping at the medicine den entry. Pixieflight’s denmate had shown about as much interest in his kittypet sister as Foggypaw had for Wildpaw.
But the smokey gray tom merely murmured, “I thought you had gone hunting,” under his breath in response.
Ivy flicked his ear in suspicion. “What’s that got to do with anything?” he prodded the broody tom further. Darkcloud grunted in reply, and turned around to leave the way he came.
Ivy wasn’t about to let Pixieflight’s foster brother go that easily. “Hey, I asked you a question!” the ginger tom called after the gray warrior.
Darkcloud froze, his shoulders tensing in annoyance. After a heartbeat, he turned his gaze to meet Ivy’s, and over his shoulder he said, “And this is me not caring.”
Ivy bristled with anger at the tom’s blatantly rude attitude, and jumped up to his paws as Darkcloud continued walking away. “Hey!” he yowled indignantly. “Get back here!”
Darkcloud proceeded, not even acknowledging that Ivy had spoken. The ginger tom’s ears boiled with rage, and he dug his claws into the ground. The nerve of that cat! He thought bitterly, returning to his place next to Pixieflight.
After he had cooled down, Ivy decided it was time to go out hunting. But as the thought came to mind, he thought of Darkcloud again. The insolent warrior had come to the den because he had assumed Ivy had gone hunting. Maybe if I pretend to leave, I can see what the heap of fox dung was doing!
Suddenly, Ivy’s thoughts drew back to the Gathering, and Blackstar. Speaking of fox-hearts with suspicious motives… Ivy shuddered, not wanting to think of the horrid ShadowClan leader anymore.
At least not until tomorrow... The ginger tom shook off the thought, blinking his eyes shut. For now, his meeting with Blackstar wasn’t his priority; Darkcloud was.
After obviously announcing that he was going hunting, Ivy scurried a bit away from the sight of any cat in the camp. Then, he circled around to the back of the medicine den.
As he approached the back of the camp, he slipped quietly into the outskirts of the clearing, scanning for Darkcloud. To his delight, Ivy spotted the smokey gray tom padding over to the medicine den. Ivy crouched down low, hoping the warrior wouldn’t see or smell him. Fortunately, Darkcloud was oblivious to Ivy’s presence, and he strode on into the den.
Now, what are you up to… Ivy inquired silently, creeping cautiously towards the mouth of the den, straining his ears for any sounds. It was too late for the ginger tom to question himself about what he expected Darkcloud to be doing. He’d been acting on petty anger and unjustified suspicion. But even so, Ivy was shocked to find Darkcloud walking up to Pixieflight, and laying down beside the unconscious white she-cat.
“Hey, Pixieflight,” the smokey tom meowed. “It’s me again. I- I ran into your… friend, today. He seems nice.”
Ivy’s eyes widened as he heard laughter in the tom’s mew. He’s being sincere! Ivy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The same impolite, grumpy, unruly warrior that had insulted the ginger tom just a little while ago, was sharing tongues with his injured, adopted littermate, that he himself had disowned! And he was laughing!
Ivy was forced out of his thoughts as a quiet voice spoke up from behind him. “What are you doing?” a she-cat asked.
Ivy nearly jumped out of his fur when she spoke. Immediately he turned to face the she-cat, and was surprised to see the black pelt of Emberheart standing there; Pixieflight’s other adoptive littermate. “U-um… I was, um…” Ivy stammered, trying to think of an excuse.
Emberheart stared at him, her expression neutral. Ivy couldn’t help but be perplexed by the black she-cat. Her yellow eyes always seemed to be devoid of emotionless, never reacting to anything anyone said to her. The one time Ivy had tried to speak to her, he had been unnerved by her quiet, impassive response.
Ivy blinked in shock as she spoke. “Are you spying on my brother?” Again, Ivy barely held back a shudder at her mild, unexpressive tone.
Crawling with discomfort, he replied, “Well, um… kind of?” he answered awkwardly.
Emberheart blinked in silence, fixing Ivy with her remote yellow stare. “Well, you shouldn’t be,” was the black she-cat’s response.
Ivy nodded hesitantly, and swallowed hard. But Emberheart didn’t move. It was clear she wanted some kind of apology or response from Ivy. “I- uh… I was just, wondering why he was, um, visiting Pixieflight,” the stammering ginger tom managed at last.
Emberheart blinked again, cocking her head to one side. “He’s her brother,” she replied simply, a look of confusion crossing her face.
Ivy nearly sighed in relief at the sight of emotion on the she-cat’s face, but his discomfort kept him from doing so. “Well, yes, but… He hasn’t shown much… Interest, in her,” Ivy responded finally.
Emberheart nodded. “That’s true I guess, but he used to. He used to be very interested in her. He used to be closer to her than me. Pixieflight was close to him as well,” the lithe she-cat sighed, somewhat wistfully.
The look in the dark she-cat’s eyes took Ivy by surprise. There was a longing in them; an aching pain. Ivy suddenly looked at the strange she-cat in a new light. Clearly, Emberheart wasn’t some creepy emotionless creature, she was just an odd cat. And as it seemed; a timid and lonely one.
Ivy opened his mouth to say something to her, but just as he did so, a gruff voice cut him off. “I don’t smell any prey on you,” Darkcloud grumbled suspiciously.
Ivy froze in place, his brain buzzing for an excuse. But before Ivy could say anything, Emberheart piped up. “He was wondering why you were visiting Pixieflight,” she mewed, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Ivy shut his eyes, silently cursing the she-cat. She just has to be the most oblivious cat in all four clans! He thought bitterly, bracing himself for Darkcloud’s response.
The smokey gray tom just stared at him in silence for a few heartbeats, before answering. “Oh? Are you her mate or something? Why does some rogue care that I’m visiting her?”
Ivy bristled, his pelt burning furiously. Through clenched teeth he replied. “If you must know, I was wondering why someone who upfront rejected relations with his sister, would visit her in the medicine den,” the ginger tom said meaningfully.
Now it was Darkcloud’s turn to bristle. “That’s- none of your business!” he hesitated.
Ivy sniffed, unappeased by the smokey tom’s deflection. Just as Darkcloud stepped forward to leave, Emberheart stepped in front of her brother. “Is it my business?” she asked.
Ivy would have expected to see a spark of defiance or confrontation in the black she-cat’s eyes, but he only saw innocent sincerity. His sister’s honesty was enough to make Darkcloud uncomfortable, and he shifted his eyes awkwardly before saying, “N-no, it’s not…”
Emberheart looked down at her paws, her face hardening, and Ivy thought she looked almost, hurt. “Oh. Okay.” She nodded, and then hopped up and scurried away.
Ivy growled under his breath, annoyed at the smokey tom’s harshness.
He turned his glare to Darkcloud and hissed, “Good job, frog-brain! You hurt your sweet sister’s feelings, and you can’t blame this one on not sharing bloo-”
“Shut up!” Darkcloud yowled, unsheathing his claws. “This was your fault!”
Ivy braced himself for an attack, but the look in the dark tom’s blazing amber eyes made the ginger tom hesitate. There was an emotion Ivy was not expecting to find there. Darkcloud’s eyes seemed genuinely remorseful, and he looked more hurt than his sister had.
The ginger tom had no idea how to respond to the other RiverClan warrior, and he just shifted his eyes awkwardly, still in a defensive crouch.
Finally, Darkcloud broke the silence. “Things aren’t as simple as you may think they are, rogue. It’d be best if you just left it alone.” And with that, the smokey gray tom stalked away, leaving Ivy to wonder about the meaning of his words.
Chapter 23
The events of the Gathering flooded to his mind once again as he sniffed the air by the small Thunderpath for the scent of Blackstar: “Small Thunderpath. Two sunrises from now. Be there,” Something about the cruel ShadowClan leader’s tone unnerved Ivy. It was out of place; irregular. Was it… emotion? Was there tenderness in the cold tom’s mew?
Ivy shook off the thought. There was no way Blackstar could have a heart, not after the white tom had shown Ivy and Snowbird so much heartlessness. It was impossible. Besides, there was nothing for the leader to care about. The thought crawled in Ivy’s pelt, but his thinking was cut off by a sharp and familiar scent reaching his nose: The marshy reek of his former leader.
Immediately Ivy stiffened and a shiver went down his spine. So, he came after all. Ivy warily tasted the air again, making sure there wasn’t anyone with Blackstar. The wind was blowing in Ivy’s favour, so the ginger tom could tell who was sitting at the other side of the small Thunderpath, but Blackstar would not be able to smell Ivy yet.
With a deep breath, Ivy slunk out of hiding into the clearing before the white tom with black paws. Blackstar looked up as he did, and his eyes lit up oddly as he got to his feet. “You came,” he meowed, his tone unreadable.
Ivy sniffed. “Yes, so I did,” he replied, fighting his increasing discomfort at the ShadowClan leader’s unnaturally casual attitude. This was not a normal conversation, and Ivy was in no way Blackstar’s friend. The ginger tom had no clue why Blackstar seemed to be under these kind of assumptions.
There was a heartbeat of silence as the two toms stared at each other, interrupted by the roaring of a passing monster. Finally, Blackstar cleared his throat. “You are probably wondering why you’re here,” he spoke lamely.
Ivy narrowed his eyes, his paws burning to strike something as he waited for Blackstar to continue. The big white tom coughed awkwardly, and then spoke again. “I… I just wanted to… Settle things between us,” he began.
Ivy’s eyes widened as the ShadowClan leader went on. Is he going to- No, he isn’t. He can't!
“I know you can never forgive me for what I’ve done, and… for what happened with Tallpoppy, but-” Blackstar attempted to continue, but Ivy had had enough.
The ginger tom growled and pounced a few steps forward, baring his fangs, and hissed: “You mean what you did to her!” Blackstar opened his mouth to interject, but Ivy was not in the mood for the ShadowClan leader’s game. “I- know what you’re trying to do, but save it! I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!” The ex-rogue warrior snarled.
Blackstar lowered his head in a solemn nod. “And you are right to. I only wanted to-”
“No!” Ivy shrieked; vehement at the sudden and unfair change in the cruel, fox-hearted leader, that the ginger tom had known growing up.
This empathetic old pushover standing before Ivy was not the brutal tom that had killed Tallpoppy, nor the merciless leader that had driven Ivy out as a broken young apprentice. This was not the Blackstar Ivy knew; it couldn’t be.
But then why, is he being so sincere!? The thought ached in his heart and raced in his mind until Ivy couldn’t handle it anymore. “What in StarClan happened to you?” the ginger tom grumbled murderously.
Blackstar’s eyes softened and he sat down slowly. With his head turned away, he murmured sadly, “I lost your mother.”
Ivy froze still in shock for a heartbeat, the words felt like ice piercing his heart. And then, a heartbeat later, he was warmed again by the burning rage that flared up his spine. The bewildered tom couldn’t understand how the guilty tyrant could be so impudent.
With a quiet but sinister mew, Ivy spoke. “You would dare to speak of her like that, after what you did? Are you hoping for some sort of closure, you sick, twisted, piece of-”
“Shut your mouth, kit!” At his sudden outburst, Ivy looked up in surprise at the looming white tom. His demeanor had changed completely, and he was standing up tall, braced threateningly. His eyes had a deep and dark coldness to them.
Ivy stopped dead, his paws tingling as he finally recognized the ruthless leader from his youth. Blackstar continued. “Don’t act like you know everything! I’m here, trying to make things right, admitting my own failure, and all you’re doing is criticizing me!”
“You can’t just ‘make things right’! You killed her, and we all have to live with that! There is no making things right! I might consider listening to you if you tried explaining yourself! Tell me Blackstar,” Ivy hesitated, his breath unsteady from rage. “Tell me why; why in StarClan you did it! Was there any reason? Were you just mad and stupid? Were you doing what was best? I thought you loved her!”
“I did!” Blackstar’s protest was immediately followed by the passing roar of a monster.
Ivy let the silence fall for a heartbeat after the monster sped off. “Then why did you kill her!?” He screeched the question that had been burning in his mind for seasons, knowing that there was no answer the burly white tom could give to satisfy him. Not even waiting for a response, Ivy dropped into a crouch and hissed, “You don’t deserve any closure!”
At his words, Blackstar let out a bloodcurdling yowl, and leaped across the small Thunderpath in four long strides. Before Ivy knew what was happening, his foster father had tackled him, sending them both rolling back down the slope. Overwhelmed by the large tom’s strength and battle experience, Ivy struggled desperately to escape Blackstar’s grip.
The two toms fumbled around in the dirt, hissing and spitting, fueled by rage. Ivy somehow managed to twist around and latch onto Blackstar’s scruff. His teeth bit into the ShadowClan leader’s thin white pelt, and almost instantly Ivy tasted blood.
Blackstar yowled in pain, landing a solid stinging hit against the back of the ginger tom’s head. Ivy’s vision blurred, and he stung all over, but he couldn’t give up. If he slowed down, Blackstar would surely take his life, just as he had taken his mother’s.
And I can’t die here, Pixieflight needs me! As he fought with all his might, Ivy had no idea that his thoughts echoed Pixieflight’s own, deep in her dreams of StarClan.
***
Pixieflight bit down hard, fighting off the uncomfortable pain in her neck. It had dulled significantly from before, but it still ached and throbbed quite badly.
The white she-cat was no longer dreaming in StarClan, but she couldn’t move or see. It had taken what seemed like moons of running through agony for her to finally escape from that dark and starlit forest back to what she assumed was her real body. She could vaguely feel her muscles strain in the effort to breath, and she faintly heard herself exhaling.
A few times Pixieflight had tried to open her eyes, but the weight was too heavy. I have become so weak, she thought tiredly. That I can’t even lift my own eyelids. The idea almost made her laugh, except it would have been too exhausting an effort.
A little while earlier, she had heard Mothwing’s muffled voice echo around somewhere, but she had been far too fatigued to respond. At the time, she wasn’t even able to groan. Even now, the concept seemed difficult, and she decided against it.
Suddenly, she heard Willowshine’s voice call out. It seemed so distant, that Pixieflight realized she must not be totally awake at all. Or perhaps she was falling back asleep. The thought of sleep was very tempting, but Pixieflight was curious about what Willowshine was saying, and she fought off the lulling darkness.
Her voice was very faded, but Pixieflight could just barely make out the younger medicine cat’s words. “...telling you ...very suspicious… Ivy… haven’t seen him since…”
If Pixieflight had had the strength, her eyes would of flown open in surprise, but instead she let out a slightly harsher exhale as the looming tug of slumber dissipated a little.
Ivy? She hasn’t seen him? What’s suspicious? The fluffy she-cat’s exhausted mind worked like lighting trying to decode the bits she had heard of Willowshine’s message.
But why does she sound so worried? This was the thing that troubled the injured warrior the most. Has something happened to Ivy? At the thought, she let out a tiny whimper of distress. Any untrained ear would have missed it completely, but at the sound, Pixieflight felt both medicine cat’s stiffen and fall silent.
Immediately after, pattering paws ran up to Pixieflight’s side and the white fluffy she-cat heard Mothwing’s warm meow call out in excitement and desperation. “Pixieflight? Can you hear me? If you can move anything, please let us know. Don’t strain yourself,” the senior medicine cat added hastily.
Pixieflight promptly ignored Mothwing’s order, and put all of her strength into swishing her tail. Except she only managed small twitch of her tail tip.
“My stars!” Mothwing breathed in disbelief. “She’s going to make it!”
wcrpforums.com/post/1218168/thread - Chapter 24 is below, here's the link, I hope it works. :/
But I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a fun one.
