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Post by Headphone Actor on Jun 28, 2017 2:38:46 GMT -5
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"We all face storms in life. Some are more difficult than others, but we all go through trials and tribulation. That's why we have the gift of faith."x - -Prologue
"Hey now, it's time to get up!"
Abelard's human had always teased him about how talkative he was, and how his meow could wake just about anything. This skill didn't seem quite so effective in practice, however, and as the kitten's voice raised in pitch, the woman continued to slumber. Abelard kneaded his paws into the covering over the bed, hearing his sharp claws rip into the soft material with a wonderful, satisfying sound. His human got upset whenever he did this, for whatever reason, so perhaps the sound would rouse her from her impressively deep slumber?
No dice.
"Hey! Wake up! It's breakfast time!" His voice continuing to raise ever louder, the kitten scrambled up the side of her bed to investigate. Perhaps she was playing a trick on him? Yes, that would explain it. He'd come up here, sniff her, and she'd start chuckling about how nosy he was being. Abelard has almost convinced himself of this fact, until he ducked forward to sniff at her hair, as grey as he was. The scent made him stop cold, though. He didn't recognize it, but it was quickly overtaking his human's own smell, and it caused the hairs on his spine to rise in...was that fear? Why was he so frightened?
Perhaps she'd wake up if he warmed her? He was allowed on the bed on cold nights, purring and warming his human until they both fell asleep. The young tomcat crawled under the blanket, trying to ignore the fact that the smell was stronger here, and pressed his thick grey fur up against her cold skin. He must have stayed this way for hours, it seemed, because he'd dozed back off.
When he awoke, the smell was unbearably strong, and his heat had done nothing to warm his owner. This wasn't what had woken him up, though. The kitten had been startled awake by the sound of the door slamming from downstairs, in the front hall. He registered the familiar voice of his human's kit, and put at ease by the sign of something that made sense, he leapt from the bed with a small thump.
"We're up here!" He howled, making enough racket to hopefully guide the man upstairs. "Come help me wake her up!" Abelard and the old woman's kit had never really seen eye to eye, but surely he could be a trusted ally when it came to waking his mother? "She's up here!" Continuing with his din, the kitten started to knock things over, and he was relieved to hear the loud thumps that preceded the man arriving upstairs. When he came in through the bedroom door, Abelard meowed a plaintive greeting to the man, before he tried to guide him to the bed.
Instead, he was greeted by another sharp, unpleasant smell (he recognized this one, the man was scared too) and an even sharper kick through the doorway by the man's boot. The man stayed there for a while, first speaking on the little box he always carried with him, and then picking Abelard up. He said something that he couldn't quite understand, and carried him outside.
This was perhaps the longest time Abelard had been held by the man-kit, and he was completely oblivious of being carried deeper into the forest nearby until he had been set down. The man turned and ran off without a second thought, leaving the kitten well and truly alone.
Abelard sat there for what felt like ages, and the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky, before it started to sink again. It suddenly occurred to the young kittypet that maybe he wasn't going to be picked up again, and he took it upon himself to try to find his own way home. How hard could it be? The fluffy grey kitten wandered for hours, sticks being tangled into his long fur, and his paws becoming soaked (much to his displeasure) in some sort of marshy area. This clearly wasn't anywhere near where he lived, he'd never seen this area before. He prepared to turn back around and wait at the spot where he'd been dropped off, but before he could get more than a couple of pawsteps, a heavy weight fell upon his back.
"It looks like we have an intruder!"
x - - Chapters 1 and 2
Abelard hardly had time to think before he'd been crushed by a heavier weight. Strong paws pummeled into his back over and over, which knocked the air out of the poor kitten. It was when claws began tearing into his flanks that he finally took action, and he attempted to wriggle out from under his assailant. Perhaps his attacker wasn't expecting retaliation, or maybe he was released out of pity? However, Abelard freed himself, and instead of running, turned to face the cat that had jumped on him out of nowhere. He could feel fur torn up in clumps along his sides, and they stung horribly. But even though he wasn't used to this painful feeling, he couldn't allow himself to run. After all, he had nowhere to run, right?
When Abelard turned, he was met with the sight of another kitten, just like him. Well...not just like him. While his opponent was leaner and mean-looking, he was quite a bit bigger than the young brown tabby. The tom bared his teeth at Abelard, and the kitten flinched back, surprised by this aggressive display.
"What's the big idea, attacking me like tha- YOWWWWW!" Abelard's opponent wasn't in the mood for conversation, and the furry grey kittypet was subjected once more to the stranger's teeth and claws. This time, though, he was able to see the attack, and actually made an attempt to fight back. Abelard raked his claws down the brown tom's nose, which caused the aggressive cat to back off for a second. The brown tom stepped back to shake off some of the blood dripping down his nose, but Abelard wasn't letting himself get pummeled again.
With what he hoped sounded like a fierce screech, he charged blindly forward into the other tom, ready to make this unfriendly cat go away. It appeared that the other tom had more experience fighting than Abelard, though, because he easily sidestepped the clumsy young cat, bundling him away as if he were a troublesome kit and not actually much of a threat.
The fighting continued for quite some time, normally with the brown tom having the upper hand in their battle, but with Abelard getting a few solid hits in. He was far from a natural fighter, but he'd become so angry and in pain that he was fighting with what he had. This had been a long, terrible day. Abelard was tired, hungry, lonely, and confused. This horrible cat coming to bully him was just the event that seemed to have pushed the young cat over the edge. He gave a furious yowl, and was about to fasten his teeth into the brown tom's shoulder, when all of a sudden he was bowled off of the other cat.
"Marshpaw, that's enough." As Abelard wheeled around, his back arched defensively and a hiss building up in his throat, he came face to face with the speaker. The silver she-cat gave Abelard a searching look before she pinned her pale blue eyes back onto the young brown tomcat. "If you used your nose as well as you did your claws, you would realize that this is a kittypet. Not an enemy warrior here to steal prey." Abelard shrank back at the sharpness of her voice. Even though she was defending him, (he thought, anyway) Marshpaw's claws had nothing on the tone she was speaking in. He tried his best to hold eye contact when her gaze fell upon him once more, attempting to not look even weaker in front of these muscular, battle hungry cats.
"You weren't stealing prey, were you kittypet?" It was a simple question, thankfully, even if Abelard wasn't entirely sure what a kittypet was. He shook his head numbly, trying to find his tongue before he attempted to give her a better answer. It was weird how, with talking to these cats, that he tried to tense his muscles like he was about to fight again. In his defense, though, he didn't know if they would attack him again.
However, his answer seemed to appease the silver she-cat. "That settles it, then. Go home to your housefolk, and don't wander this way again." She seemed to believe that this was the end of the conversation and turned, beckoning her tail towards Marshpaw. "Let's go, Marshpaw. We need to regroup with Blackstream and Berrypaw." She directed, before padding briskly in the opposite direction. Cowed, the brown tabby tom didn't give more than a nod in response before following the much older cat.
"W-Wait!" Abelard took off after the two, boldened slightly by the fact that he hadn't been hurt worse than he already was. "Wait!" He continued following the two wild cats until they turned around to face him once more, surprise on the silver she-cat's face. "I don't...I don't have housefolk. Not anymore." He admitted sheepishly, his heart hammering from fear, and from many kinds of fear. He was terrified of being left alone - it was getting dark outside - but he was also terrified that these cats were going to eat him for dinner or something. "Can I please...please come with you?" Abelard pleaded, his pale green eyes huge with worry. "I won't steal anything, promise! I just can't..." The kitten trailed off, staring at his paws.
Something seemed to have softened in the silver she-cat's voice when she spoke next, even though she kept a crisp, level tone. Some of the ice that crept along the edges appeared to have thawed slightly. "We can see what Ripplestar has to say about you staying."
"Wow, really?!"
"Brightfrost, he's a kittypet!"
Abelard and Marshpaw appeared to have spoken at the same time, the grey tom's eyes widened in hope, and the brown tom's eyes widened in shock. Both hardly dared to breathe as they waited for Brightfrost to answer.
"He's a kittypet, Marshpaw, but he's also heavily injured and alone." She reasoned to the brown kitten, before looking at Abelard. "Ripplestar is our leader. He'll be the one to judge whether or not you can stay, but perhaps he'll let you stay until you're healed. I wouldn't expect a full place in the clan, but I highly doubt he'll leave a cat to die." Brightfrost clarified, shaking her head. "He's strict, but he's fair."
"But keep up, kittypet. I mean it when I say we need to catch up to that patrol."
x - - - xAbelard found that, while these cats had allowed him to tag along, that didn't mean that they were going to go easy on him, either. His haunches still smarted from his scuffle with Marshpaw, and the feeling only intensified as he struggled to keep up with the swift pace of the two wild cats. He was also exhausted, and felt like the events of this morning had happened ages ago, even though he was keenly aware that it had only been a day. The young tom refused to show any signs of weakness, though, and instead, he sped up every time Marshpaw did. He and the other tom had fallen into step behind Brightfrost, who seemed wholly intent on finding these other cats. Whenever he asked a question, he only received a vague answer, but she hadn't completely shut him down yet, which he supposed was a good sign.
"Where do you all live?" Was the first of his numerous questions, panted out in between breaths as he struggled to keep pace. "Who are the other two we're looking for?" This also seemed to be a relevant question to Abelard, as he wanted to know everything about the cats who had first attacked him, then promised to help him. "How do you know where to go to find them? Did they say where they were going to be?"
"We live in an area between two rivers, you'll see when we get there." Brightfrost responded, not even slightly out of breath by the brisk pace she had set for the trio. "We're meeting up with Blackstream and my apprentice, Berrypaw. I know where they are because we were patrolling a designated area, and it's well past time for the patrol to be finished, but they promised to wait until we caught up." She continued.
The questions continued on like this for some time, Abelard asking one question after another about the lives of the clan cats. What was an apprentice? How did these cats get their names? Would he get a name like that if he lived with them? What was a patrol? On and on, with the warrior giving short responses that only seemed to sprout more questions.
"Brightfrost! Marshpaw!" They were along the shoreline of the lake when they finally came across the cats they had been looking for. Abelard peered at the newcomers from behind Brightfrost, his ears perked to catch all of this conversation. While he wasn't exactly sure, he figured that Blackstream was the bigger cat, a long-legged tom with silky black fur and amber eyes. Since the she-cat that arrived with the tom looked to be around Marshpaw's age, he assumed that she was Berrypaw. She shared Marshpaw's dark tabby fur, but her throat and paws were white. Littermates, maybe? Abelard focused on the conversation once more, returning to Blackstream giving Brightfrost a report.
"It seems like ShadowClan are marking their borders more aggressively, although I'm not entirely sure what they think that will do to fix the problem." A sigh came from the black tomcat, and instead, he turned his head towards Abelard. "So the intruder was a kittypet after all, then? We were close to the Horseplace." The grey kitten ducked his head awkwardly, feeling the burning stares of the two cats on him, watching him.
"He is a kittypet with no Twolegs to return to, so we're bringing him to Ripplestar. We'll see if we can get him healed up, and then send him on his way, unless he wants to stay with us." This brought on a disgusted look from Marshpaw. "Brightfrost! He's a kittypet! There's no way he can stay in RiverClan!"
"That's for Ripplestar to decide, Marshpaw. Your biggest concern should be obeying your elders. Your mentor, specifically." Though Blackstream's tone was stern, Abelard could see the tom's whiskers twitching in amusement. "Brightfrost and I will ask Ripplestar and Stormbrook, and they'll be the ones making the decision."
This seemed to quiet Marshpaw, and he gave a respectful dip of his head towards Blackstream and Brightfrost. "Alright then." He conceded, and it appeared that he had realized that this point wasn't something he could argue against here and now.
"Right then!" Blackstream continued brightly, as if everything was normal. Was everything normal, Abelard wondered? Did these cats pick up lost housecats often? "Let's be back off to camp. Are you fit to walk further, kittypet?" While Abelard wasn't sure if the word 'kittypet' was very nice, the tom's voice seemed friendly enough.
"If he's not, then we're going to be stuck out here for a while as he rests." Brightfrost warned, with another quick glance around their surroundings. She seemed rather relieved when Abelard nodded, not wanting to bother these cats when they could always leave him out here in the dark. Being agreeable appeared to be the better option here. The growing party of cats made their way back in the direction that he, Brightfrost, and Marshpaw had come from then, and Abelard found himself growing more and more excited to see this home between the rivers,
x - - Chapters 3 and 4
At long last, the group made it to a river, one that Abelard had failed to even notice before. Had they crossed a river during their search for the others? He didn't believe that they had. Regardless, the group stood before a river now, and he was mortified to see that Brightfrost had already slipped into the strong current. The dark grey kitten watched with bated breath as the silver she-cat struck out for the far shore. It seemed his concern was misplaced, however, because Brightfrost paddled strongly towards the other side, only to emerge a few heartbeats later on the far shore. Berrypaw followed suit, and Marshpaw must have scented his fear, because when the brown tom approached the shore, he shot Abelard a haughty, self-assured look, and it didn't take either of the other two kittens too long to reach the bank on the far side, even though they weren't quite as swift as the older cat.
"Should he take the stepping stones, Blackstream?" Brightfrost called, and her wide paws scattered some of the smooth pebbles on the shoreline. Her concern (was it concern?) warmed Abelard, but then the loud snicker that came from Marshpaw chilled the appreciation. Did he see Berrypaw twitch her whiskers in silent laughter, too? The tall black warrior had been about to respond, but before he could, the kitten had already made up his mind.
Desperate to prove himself, Abelard made his way to the water, his muzzle held high in an attempt to look a lot more confident than he actually was. As the freezing water lapped hungrily at his paws, the kitten struggled with the urge to pull them out. Marshpaw's superior look haunted his thoughts, though, and he steeled himself against the task. That cat would never let him live it down if he backed out now, so he became dedicated to the task. His paws suddenly couldn't feel the bottom of the river anymore, and he panicked. His paws churned the choppy surface of the water, although no traction was gained by his movements, and thus he continued to be carried along by the swift current. Like the water that raged around him, Abelard's own thoughts were tumbled and incoherent. Just as he had begun to think he wouldn't ever make it out of this river, a strong pair of jaws fastened around his scruff, and he was tugged towards the shore. As he crouched there on the smooth pebbles, thankful to be on dry land once more, he heard Blackstream's voice.
"Sometimes, Abelard, it's better to know your limits and heed them instead of challenging them. There is a time and place to test yourself, and that's not at every single obstacle that comes your way." The black tom chided, although there was a hint of amusement in his meow that suggested he approved of the former kittypet's decision. Abelard crouched there for a good length of time and his sides heaved with the effort of regaining his breath. The other four cats waited for him, mostly silent. Finally, once his breath had evened out, the patrol made it's way once more towards the camp. Abelard could smell it now. Nothing specific, just a large group of cats that shared the same slightly fishy scent as his new friends. He could count them as new friends, right? As he made his way through a hole in a wall made of brambles, the grey kitten's eyes grew huge, and it took a gentle nudge from Brightfrost to get him moving again.
"This, kittypet, is RiverClan's camp." The silver she-cat introduced with a small wave of her tail. "I'll speak with Ripplestar, and he'll come to a decision with our deputy, Stormbrook." Brightfrost kept going with her explanation and added, "The clan deputy, in this case, Stormbrook, is the second in command to our leader, and assists them with making decisions and organizing the warriors, like Blackstream and I." Afterwards, she turned her head towards Berrypaw and Marshpaw. "You two may as well head to the apprentices den, you've earned a little rest from that patrol. Marshpaw? You might want to see Alderstripe about those scratches you received earlier." After her orders were followed, Brightfrost turned back towards Blackstream and Abelard. "Let's speak to Ripplestar, then."
Ripplestar's den, as it turned out, was another cluster of bramble bushes. Abelard briefly wondered why these cats lived outside in bushes, when they could just as easily live with some housefolk or something. However, the way they called him a 'kittypet' made it appear that they thought very little of his former lifestyle. Before he could open his mouth and ask, though, they were called inside.
For all the thoughts Abelard had about living in a bush, he had to admit that the inside of Ripplestar's bush den was spectacular. Smooth stones of pleasing colors lined the edges, and his mossy nest was mixed with brightly colored feathers. The light shimmered on peculiar items, some of which the kittypet vaguely recognized from his life with his human. Even more impressive still were the two cats that they found in the den. The first cat that Abelard had noticed was a burly tom with long, sand-colored fur, and a smaller, more compact she-cat with light blue fur and numerous scars. "You wished to speak to us, Brightfrost?" A rumbling voice came from the tawny colored tom, while the blue queen kept her eyes on the three cats, not a muscle moving.
Brightfrost dipped her head respectfully, before she looked back up to meet the tom's eyes. "Yes, Ripplestar." She responded. Abelard wondered how she remained so calm, especially when there was such an aura of authority that "raidiated from the leader. He found himself incapable of holding his gaze, and instead busied himself with studying the trinkets in the den, his ears tensed and focused on the conversation nevertheless. Ripplestar must have given her a sign that she could continue, because the warrior bravely carried on. "On our patrol, Blackstream, Berrypaw, Marshpaw, and I saw more signs of the dogs that have taken up living around the lake. Killed prey, dirt, and crushed undergrowth. While we were out, Marshpaw encountered an intruder and attacked him. The intruder turned out to be a mere kittypet who has lost his Twolegs, and he was far too injured to last the night alone, so we brought him back here to ask your permission for him to take shelter here until he heals. He isn't a clan cat, but there is still the matter of leaving a cat, hardly more than a kit, alone to starve and die." After she finished the report, she dipped her head again, signifying that she was finished speaking.
"I see." Abelard felt the tom's dark copper eyes fix on him now, and he studied his paws. "It is unlike RiverClan to take in kittypets. We're not ThunderClan, after all. But it is a warrior's duty to show mercy to those that aren't a threat to the clan." He mused, and his feathered tail twitched just within the range of the kitten's sight.
"Blackstream, what do you think of him?" The she-cat, who Abelard assumed was Stormbrook, finally spoke, Unlike Ripplestar, her voice was quiet, just as still as the rest of her. She reminded the grey kitten of the statues that his human used to have, figures carved from rock that never moved.
The black tom, quite possibly the youngest cat in the room apart from himself, Abelard noticed, widened his eyes when Stormbrook questioned him. It took him a moment to respond, as if he were either gathering his thoughts, or deciding whether or not the deputy was actually asking his opinion on something, "He managed to land a few solid hits on Marshpaw, despite his lack of training or skill. He didn't complain about his injuries on the way to camp, and even kept up reasonably well. As you can tell..." The tom's whiskers twitched, as if he held back laughter. "...he also tried to take a swim into camp, despite Brightfrost offering to lead him across the stepping stones." Abelard warmed slightly at the kind tone that Blackstream had taken, which was much more inviting than Brightfrost's brisk and snappy words, or Stormbrook's cool, calm voice. Had he made a friend after all? "I think that he should at least be given a chance, Ripplestar, Stormbrook."
Ripplestar nodded, his dark eyes considering the young warrior's words. There was a tense energy in the air, something that Abelard likened to the air before a storm. Finally, the tension broke as the leader gave his verdict. "I have decided he may stay until he's been healed. He can stay in the medicine den with Alderstripe until his wounds are completely healed, and we can take it up with the clan and the kittypet himself on whether he may stay longer than that."
"Th-thank you, Ripplestar!" Abelard could hardly believe he was allowed to stay. From Marshpaw's scorn and Berrypaw's careful distance from him on the way back, he had assumed that they were the rule, not the exception. But perhaps this RiverClan could be a home for him after all? He had never considered being a wild cat before, and he hadn't even heard of them before today. But he knew his former human's son wouldn't take him in, and there weren't any humans in that area that wanted another cat anyway.
The sandy tabby nodded his broad head as he acknowledged Abelard's gratitude. "I wish for you to show your gratitude in your actions." He informed the kitten, who cocked his head in confusion. "While you are staying here, you will take on minor apprentice duties. You'll help Alderstripe sort herbs, you'll change the bedding for the queens and elders, you'll bring them fresh-kill from the pile, and you'll check them for fleas and ticks." After the regal tom gave his instructions, he added. "But Alderstripe and the apprentices can show you how to do that tomorrow. Tonight, you are to get those scratches looked at and get some rest." He flicked his tail in dismissal, and the three cats exited Ripplestar's den.
"I'm going to speak to some of the other warriors, Blackstream, I trust you can take Abelard to Alderstripe's den? Stormbrook wishes for me to take out a patrol at dawn to hunt." With that, Brightfrost left the two alone, and Blackstream tried to look encouraging for the kitten.
"Well, let's go meet Alderstripe, shall we?"
x - - - x"Alderstripe! Alderstriipe!" Blackstream stuck his head into the next den, another bramble thicket. Of course, when the island was mostly covered in the stuff, Abelard supposed that it made sense to build all of the structures from it. They'd never run out, after all. While the long-legged black tom searched the camp for what he explained was the 'medicine cat', Abelard took the time to look around at the camp that surrounded them. It was certainly a busy place, even when he considered that night was just around the corner. Cats of several sizes and colors bustled around as they patched holes in the dens with reeds and brambles, entered and exited through the entrance, with many of the returning cats dropping off or picking up prey from a pile. Kittens, even younger than he was, tumbled around and squealed as they played with one another, watched carefully by a small group of she-cats that must have been their mothers. Then Abelard caught the eyes of a group of old cats that lounged at the riverside. Embarrassed, the kitten's eyes returned to Blackstream, who continued to call into the den for the medicine cat.
"Stop your yowlin', I'm here." A voice sounded from inside the den, and shortly after, a thin tom exited the den, pale brown fur rumpled. Despite his disheveled appearance, The kitten could see that his eyes were sharp as a claw, and after Abelard was given a searching gaze with those keen orange eyes, Alderstripe spoke again. "Why is there an injured kittypet hanging halfway into my den?" Before Blackstream could answer, the old tom swung back around and padded back into the den. "Well come on then, don't block the entrance, staring like a bunch of newborn kits. You've been in here often enough, Blackstream, and I'm expecting to see a lot of you too, kittypet. Might as well get used to how things run around here."
In spite of the medicine cat's harsh demeanor, Abelard saw the black warrior beside him bite down a purr of laughter. Nothing much appeared to phase the young tom, apart from whatever business he'd been discussing with Brightfrost before, and when he lectured Marshpaw before. He gave Abelard an encouraging flick with the tip of his tail, before he made his way into the den. Encouraged to follow him, the grey kitten ducked into the bramble den. He noticed it was cool in here, the air laced with scents that made him want to sneeze. He pawed at his nose to halt the sensation, before sitting down next to Blackstream's side.
The young warrior filled in the medicine cat on the events of the day, before he informed him of Ripplestar's instructions. Alderstripe nodded, his ears trained on Blackstream as he gathered leaves from around the den. Once he had gathered what he needed, he returned to Abelard's side, his mouth full of the leaves. He chewed as Blackstream continued, and finally spat out the poultice, his paws pressing it firmly to each of the cuts in turn. Abelard tensed, and the sting from the juices nearly took his breath away. However, the bite began to ebb away, and relief washed over him instead.
"What's your name, kittypet?" Alderstripe finally asked at the end of the story. He pressed a few cobwebs into the wounds, making sure that they were packed in tight before he stepped back. Abelard looked towards Blackstream, only for the medicine cat's voice to cut the silence again. "I didn't ask Blackstream, I asked you. If you don't tell me, I'll personally request that your name is changed to Blackshadow, since you're expecting him to do everything for you." He interrupted tersely, and his long tail twitched in irritation.
Taken aback, Abelard swallowed back a stammer. He had a feeling that if he messed up saying his name, this cat would call him the botched name for as long as he could. "Abelard." He finally answered clearly. "My name is Abelard." He was very aware of how bizarre his own name suddenly sounded, after a single day with these cats.
Alderstripe nodded, satisfied with that answer. "I'm guessing that those claw marks on Marshpaw were your doing?" Abelard wasn't sure how to react. Was he mad about it? Happy? Bewildered, the kitten took his chances and nodded. The old medicine cat chuckled, and Abelard relaxed a little. "I can't say that Marshpaw deserved those wounds, but you showed courage, standing up to him. Maybe that'll give him an idea."
Abelard noticed that Blackstream had given the medicine cat a surprisingly harsh look, his copper eyes narrowed in warning. This led to a snort from Alderstripe, but before the grey kitten could ask what that was all about, the brown apprentice entered the den, his jaws clamped around a large fish. After he set it down, he spoke. "I brought something for you, Alderstripe. Kittypet." He didn't sound to enthusiastic about it, but Abelard was suddenly reminded of his snarling stomach, and felt a flood of gratitude towards the other tom.
"Thanks, Marshpaw!" Abelard took a step forward, even the strange scents of the fish smelled delicious to him at this point. Maybe he and Marshpaw could be friends after all? The tabby apprentice didn't have to bring him anything to eat, after all, and it seemed like it was kind of him to think of the elderly medicine cat, too. His opinion of the surly cat rose. Maybe earlier, he'd just caught him at a bad time. "You didn't have t-"
"Whatever." Marshpaw cut him off, and it seemed like he didn't want to spend too much time around the medicine den. "The warrior code says that I need to feed the clan before I feed myself, and if Ripplestar's decided to shelter you for a few days, you're my responsibility too." He explained gruffly, and Abelard felt his heart fall slightly. Maybe if he apologized later, they could start over? Instead, he nodded numbly. "Meet me and the others at the apprentice's den at sunrise. We're supposed to show you the best places to get moss and reeds, for the nests." With that, he turned and exited the den with no more than a respectful nod towards Blackstream and Alderstripe.
"I should probably talk to him." Blackstream awkwardly broke the silence, his eyes on the exit of the den, where his apprentice had been heartbeats before. "He needs to know what we're doing for training tomorrow, and I'll see that he's not in too much pain." The black warrior gave Abelard an encouraging nudge with his shoulder, and a fond blink towards Alderstripe before he, too, left.
The grey kitten learned that Alderstripe wasn't much of a talker without Blackstream around, and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence as they ate, and after what seemed like ages, Abelard curled into his newly made nest, feeling exhaustion crash down on him like a heavy weight, dragging him into the darkness of sleep.
x - - Chapters 5 and 6
"Rrrr...where is that frog-brained kittypet?" Marshpaw would rather be doing anything right now. Patrolling, hunting, training...heck, even gathering herbs for Alderstripe had its appeal at the moment. Instead, he and his denmates had to hover over a dopey kittypet. Despite being less than excited for the task, Marshpaw refused to complain to the warriors about his assignment. Warriors didn't complain. His littermate and his friend were trusted with this information, though. He knew that they wouldn't think less of him for his lack of enthusiasm.
"Maybe he slept in? He's a kittypet, after all. They aren't used to getting up at sunrise." Berrypaw reminded him gently as she batted at the fat head of a reed. "...or maybe Alderstripe ate him instead of that trout you brought them last night." The joke was emphasized with a wry twitch of her whiskers, and she batted his ear with a white paw. "Relax, Marshpaw. The warriors will understand that him sleeping in isn't your fault. You did tell him the time and place, after all. You know...in between nearly taking his tail off and flinging a fish in his face."
Marshpaw had expected that she would answer with something along those lines. Not much seemed to ruffle the smaller brown tabby's fur, and a tardy kittypet was the least of her worries, recently. Before he could explain his thoughts on the subject, another voice broke in.
"Can you blame 'im, though?" The speaker was a pale brown tom, who strolled slowly towards the apprentice's den. "After all, he tangled with you yesterday, Marshpaw, then he went on that partial patrol to catch up with the others, and then nearly drowned in the river. He's a big fella, but he's still a kittypet." Swiftpaw's words were as slow as his movements, but Marshpaw wasn't particularly fooled. He knew his friend struck as fast as lightning when it was necessary. "Give him a little time, you two. He's not hurting anyone by being late."
Again, Marshpaw wanted to correct his friend. Technically, Abelard hurt the clan when he delayed the rest of the apprentices in their regular duties. Before he could do that, Swiftpaw spoke again. "See? There he is now. My, he looks like he's being chased by the whole Dark Forest." The pale apprentice hardly seemed vexed by this situation, his voice an amused hum. "Wonder what's got him so worked up?"
Marshpaw's derisive snort was met by a serene wave of Swiftpaw's tail and a stifled purr of amusement from Berrypaw.
Abelard slumped before the three apprentices, his breaths coming out in short gasps as he struggled to regulate it. "I'msorry...I'mlate." He apologized first, and Marshpaw felt a faint flicker of surprise when he realized that the newcomer genuinely sounded sorry. He also sounded awake, for that matter. Perhaps their theory that he'd been asleep was incorrect? "Alderstripe...wanted me...to bring someherbs...to one of...the elders..." The explanation tumbled from Abelard's mouth, and even Marshpaw found that he couldn't really bring himself to be angry about this. After all, the kittypet had been trying to help, even if he had also been trying the brown tabby's nerves.
"It's okay, we know Alderstripe was trying to avoid going to the elder's den himself." Swiftpaw reassured the fluffy tom kitten, amusement in his yellow eyes. He gave the new cat a friendly flick of the ears, and ducked low to whisper loudly, in a conspiratorial tone, "...between you and me, Alderstripe doesn't want to face the fact that some of the elders in there are younger than him."
Even Berrypaw had joined in on the teasing. "I heard the elders talking about it the other day when I was changing their bedding. Specklepelt said if he didn't find an apprentice, train them, and retire soon, she was going to sneak into ShadowClan's camp and steal their medicine cat." She purred cheerfully. "Cloudpatch agreed. He said that while she was...forcefully recruiting the medicine cat, he'd sneak up behind Alderstripe and whack him over the head with a heavy trout, so that he could drag him to the elder's den."
Abelard was clearly confused. "ShadowClan?" Marshpaw was relieved that the kittypet didn't ask a stupider question, like wondering if they were serious about the whole thing. It was probably this relief, that the newcomer wasn't a total fool, that galvanized him into action. "They're another clan. They live in the marshes, on the other side of the lake. Shifty, jumpy sort of cats. I wouldn't want their medicine cat to join us." He flicked his tail for the three cats to follow him, then led his small "patrol" towards the exit of the camp. "We need to tell Specklepelt that she needs to get better taste when it comes to healers. He'd be just as bad as Alderstripe." As the patrol ducked through the entrance to the camp, the conversation continued.
"Maybe she thinks that Foxtail grew up in the marsh, so he'd be used to water between his toes before he even learned how to swim?" Berrypaw guessed, and gave a slight shrug. "After all, he might have an easier time than the ThunderClan or WindClan medicine cats, they'd be helpless." Before Abelard could even begin the question, she answered it. "Other clans. They live in the forest and the moor."
"If you're staying with us, you might get to meet them before long." Swiftpaw pitched in, before adding, "...WindClan seem to be scared of their own shadows, and ThunderClan has a longstanding reputation for being nosier than elders during a Gathering." Marshpaw saw that this opinion on their neighbors only caused the kittypet's curiosity to increase, but he cut them off before the idea was formed to go on a trip to the borders. That wasn't their task at the moment.
"Well, here's one of the good spots for reeds." He informed Abelard, and jerked his head towards the large clump in question. "Sometimes we can find duck and goose feathers in the stalks, and those make for good bedding too. The reeds keep the nests stiff, you see, and we use moss and feathers to make them soft." Marshpaw wasn't sure what the large grey tom knew, so he figured it was best to teach him as if he were a kit. If the kittypet knew, then he could speak up and tell them himself.
After that, the conversation died down for a bit as they gathered the stalks and any feathers they could find. It was tough work, teaching the kittypet how to cut the stems with his teeth and claws, instead of jerking the whole thing up by the roots. This, unfortunately, led to another conversation.
"Remember when you tried that, Marshpaw?" Swiftpaw brought up, and the brown tabby tom could feel the taunt in his friend's voice without even looking at him. "You got your mouth all cut up with the leaves, and you pulled too hard and messed up that muscle in your neck." A soft butt with the taller tom's shoulder took some of the sting out of the memory, though.
Marshpaw grunted in agreement. He did remember that. He'd been stuck in the medicine den for days waiting on that muscle to heal, and eating prey had been a chore for a while, too.
The patrol continued gathering reeds, the quiet occasionally being punctured by a joke or story from one of the young cats, or occasionally a question from Abelard. Marshpaw hated to admit it, but he actually didn't dislike this journey as much as he thought he would. He chalked it up to Berrypaw and Swiftpaw being there, the two acting as a balm against some of the kittypet's dumber questions. But he didn't even mind that too much. Abelard knew next to nothing about everything in general, but he at least sounded like he wanted to learn, and didn't complain about the work.
After they had gathered enough reeds to be considered useful, the patrol of four turned to make their way back to the camp, The sun was climbing higher, although it wasn't quite to the top of the sky yet. Marshpaw was looking forward to a hunt, or maybe even a patrol later, before he spotted them.
"Oh no, here comes bad news."
x - - - x
"Bad news? What do you mean?" Marshpaw heard Abelard question Swiftpaw behind him. Although the small brown tabby knew exactly what his friend meant by that.
Two cats strolled leisurely towards the patrol of four apprentices, their movements deliberately slow. They stopped just before the group, finally addressing them.
"It seems like they finally let the kits out of the nursery, Ashpaw." Snickered the larger of the two cats, a dusty brown tom that Marshpaw unfortunately knew as Troutpaw. His littermate, Ashpaw, snorted in amusement at the comment, even though it was largely not funny. The dappled grey she-cat was hardly seen away from her brother's side, but...
"Yeah? Well aren't you missing one of your usual fleas, Troutbrain? What, did she try to chase some prey and get lost?" He heard Berrypaw's voice from beside him, and turned his head to see her green eyes blazing in annoyance. Honestly, her insult wasn't spectacular, but he had to commend her for calling him Troutbrain. Big, loud, and strong, Troutpaw wasn't particularly bright. Or at least, Marshpaw had never seen any spectacular feats of intelligence from the much older apprentice.
"Isn't chasing prey more suited for your friend over there?" Ashpaw shot back, much quicker with insults than her brother. "Wouldn't you like that, Drypaw? Want to go catch a rabbit for us?" The insult made Marshpaw's fur prickle in embarrassment. Both for the cat in question, and for realizing that he couldn't speak up and defend his friend.
Not that he needed defending. Swiftpaw's tail twitched back and forth in a very muted anger, and with a voice that could possibly freeze the river, he retorted, "What, do you need me to catch your prey for you now, Ashpaw? I heard you failed your last assessment, but I didn't realize that you were that far beyond help."
A thrill of fear raced through Marshpaw when he saw the grey apprentice bunch her muscles, as if she were about to spring forward. He knew that the two older apprentices were clanmates, and wouldn't seriously hurt Swiftpaw, but he wasn't looking forward to getting thrashed by them, either. He hesitated for a moment, then stepped between the two angry cats. "What are you two doing out here, Troutpaw, Ashpaw?" He tried to rapidly change the subject. Maybe bragging about whatever warrior mission they'd been sent on or whatever would get them preening, and less focused on shredding Swiftpaw.
Ashpaw seemed to remember herself, and relaxed a little out of the crouch, even though her eyes were still dark as a stormcloud. "We were sent out with our mentors to check the WindClan border. That dog is getting closer and closer to camp. Ripplestar and Stormbrook are getting anxious about it, so they sent the best warriors and apprentices they could spare to check it out. They're at the ShadowClan border themselves, checking to see how far it might have gone." Marshpaw had been right. Talking about their mission, as well as the trust that their parents and mentors had in them, had caused her chest to puff with pride, and Troutpaw was looking rather superior too. "Its a big responsibility, you know, Marshpaw. They don't want the young apprentices risked fighting it, so they sent you three out to babysit the kittypet." Ashpaw frowned, then, looking vaguely concerned. "I'm surprised that they didn't send Brightfrost and Blackstream out with you, or Piketooth. I know we need all the warriors we can spare out looking for those dogs, but it doesn't seem very safe to send you all without some kind of experienced warrior."
"Maybe we should hang around for a bit, until you're done." It was no secret that he was a bit bigheaded, but even Troutpaw seemed worried about the possibility of the dogs attacking.
"No need, you two." Berrypaw's fur was still ruffled. "We appreciate it, but we're heading back to camp now." She promised, explaining the refusal. The tabby apprentice picked up her bundle of reeds, and gestured for the others to follow her lead this time. He heard Abelard mumble a quiet farewell to the two, unsure of how he was supposed to treat the older cats. Marshpaw nodded his own goodbye to their denmates, before he followed his sister and Swiftpaw, who still looked stung.
It was quiet again for a while, the mood darkened by the almost-fight and the talk of the dogs. However, Marshpaw should have expected the silence to be ruined by the kittypet.
"Sho, the dogsh are a fhat big of a fhreat?" His voice was muffled by the reeds, but the curiosity behind the question was very clear.
Berrypaw tucked the reeds under her chin, keeping it close to her neck, so that she could answer. "Yes. The dogs are the biggest threat we've had in a long time." She explained, before she added sheepishly, "At least, that's what we were told when we wanted to be part of the first patrol to track them. We've only been apprentices for a little over a moon now, so the senior warriors aren't too keen on sending us after them. Swiftpaw's been on one of the patrols, since he's been an apprentice for a little while longer, maybe a moon or two, but mostly the apprentices that go on the patrols are Troutpaw, Ashpaw, and Shellpaw. They're almost warriors, so they're allowed to go."
Abelard nodded, and Marshpaw saw him copy Berrypaw rather quickly, tucking the reeds under his chin as well so he'd be free to talk. "So his name's not really Troutbrain? I was worried for a second. I wasn't going to blame him for being a real piece of work if that was his name. I thought his parents must have hated him or something." The kittypet sounded as if he had actually been concerned about this.
After a muffled snicker from Swiftpaw, Marshpaw gave the reasoning behind the nickname. "No, they don't hate him. His and Ashpaw's parents are Ripplestar and Stormbrook, so they act like they own the camp. Berrypaw calls him Troutbrain because he's probably the most thickheaded cat in the four clans." That wasn't necessarily true, but now that he was out from underneath those piercing blue glares, Marshpaw felt a little braver.
Swiftpaw spoke up again. "Nice job with that, by the way." Marshpaw noticed her ears flick in acknowledgement of the praise, and saw that she looked rather pleased with herself.
"So why did they call him Drypaw?" This was the next question out of Abelard's mouth, and Marshpaw felt a brief flash of irritation at the sound of the nickname. He was about to answer, give some vague reasoning for his denmate's embarrassing nickname, but Swiftpaw swooped in to catch the question once more.
"Its because of my sense of humor." Marshpaw could hear the sarcasm in his voice, but Abelard appeared to be oblivious. "I'm told I'm very dry and witty."
Abelard took this at face value, and the tabby apprentice marveled for a second at how trusting the kittypet was. Did he not detect the sarcasm in Swiftpaw's mew? Or did he actually respect the pale tom's reluctance to give him a straight answer? Marshpaw shrugged off the question, though. Asking further would risk possibly humiliating his friend again, and if the grey tom didn't pry, then everything was fine, right?
The rough, uncomfortable mood that had flashed through the air after the encounter with the older apprentices seemed to finally be easing up, though, and the young tabby tom was content not to break the easy silence between the four of them as they reentered the camp.
x - - Chapters 7 and 8
Abelard didn't realize he was so obvious.
Roughly half a moon had passed since he first went on a mission with the younger apprentices, and he swore his paws had been busy every moment since then. He loved every second of it. He hadn't been sent on any huge life or death missions, obviously, but it appeared that RiverClan had begun to accept him more than they had when he had first been rescued.
He was attending to his duties again today, this time removing ticks and fleas from the elders, changing their bedding, and making sure they had been fed. The other apprentices would moan about it, but Abelard would do it every day if it meant he got to share prey with the elders, and listen to their stories every day.
It was on a day like this when the subject had finally been brought up.
"Will ya stop moaning already and just ask Ripplestar to join the Clan, young'n?!" Creaked an old, half-blind she-cat with brindled fur that he had finally been introduced to as Specklepelt. The same cat that Berrypaw said was likely to steal a medicine cat from the other clans. She had treated him kindly in all of his visits to the dense bramble thicket where they stayed. However, she was also prone to losing her temper when faced with stubbornness from cats that weren't her. "I swear, the other day I couldn't decide if that groaning I heard came from you, or the branches in the wind!"
"You think he and Stormbrook would let me?" Abelard was surprised by this notion. He was grateful to Ripplestar and his deputy for rescuing him from the wild and taking him into a place that was starting to feel like home, but he'd never expected to be fully accepted into the clan itself.
"Well, why wouldn't he?" This question came from Creekwhisper, a sandy old queen with cloudy blue eyes. "He said you could stay until your wounds healed, first, didn't he youngster?" At Abelard's numbed nod, she continued. "Your wounds have been healed for a few days now, frog-brain. If he didn't want you to stay, he probably would have sent you out by now." A rusty purr came from the old cat, and the grey tom felt warm with embarrassment. This thought hadn't even occurred to him. He'd figured that Ripplestar only allowed him to stay because he didn't have anywhere to send him.
Abelard hadn't really had a chance to run into the regal fawn colored tom in a few days, minimum. He'd been busy in camp - helping Alderstripe sort herbs, patching dens, bringing prey and herbs to the queens and elders, and changing bedding - and Ripplestar had been leading practically every patrol to watch out for the dogs while he was awake. That was the part that was especially impressive to Abelard. Working hard around camp was enough to leave him tired, but Ripplestar gave the impression that he was never asleep. The general impression that he'd gotten from the queens, elders, and apprentices was that they approved of the leadership of the clan, which he supposed was a very good thing.
Before he could speak up, however, the former kittypet was broken from his train of thought by another raspy voice, this one harsh with disapproval. "I don't think Ripplestar will let a soft-pawed kittypet in the clan, Specklepelt, Creekwhisper." Startled, Abelard looked up into the cranky amber eyes of Cloudpatch and inwardly groaned. Cloudpatch had been a thorn in his side since the morning he met the elders, and he figured it would be too good to be true if he agreed with the two elder queens. "This isn't ThunderClan, we don't take in outside strays." He repeated stubbornly. "Ripplestar won't agree to it."
His heart thudding unpleasantly, Abelard flashed his eyes toward his friends in a silent call for help. He was mortified when Creekwhisper met his eyes and flicked her tail impatiently. Did she expect him to argue with Cloudpatch? His fur flattened to his body, he turned back to the churlish tom. "...not a kittypet if I ask..." He was mortified when his voice didn't want to work correctly.
"What's that, kittypet?" Cloudpatch goaded, his ears pressed forward to catch that pitiful mumble that Abelard had answered him with. "I ain't young anymore. Warriors speak up, you're mumblin' like a kit on the first time out of the nursery!" A snort of contempt came from the rickety old tom.
"I said I'm not a kittypet if I ask him!" Abelard raised his voice now, and gave a hard stare at the cantankerous old coot, goaded into the argument. "If I ask him - when I ask him - and he accepts, I'll be a RiverClan apprentice! Not a kittypet!" He protested.
"...and when are you gonna ask him, soft-paws?" Cloudpatch didn't sound very convinced, and the old cat inspected a white paw nonchalantly.
Abelard glanced out into the clearing, and noticed that the brambles around the entrance to Ripplestar's den trembled, as if the leader or his mate had just returned from another outing.
"I'll ask him right now." Before the grey tom could talk himself out of it, he strode across the clearing and stopped in front of the den.
"Ripplestar! Stormbrook! May I speak with you, please?" He called into the den, manners being recalled at the last second. He heard a sound of assent come from inside the den, and Abelard took a hard swallow, at battle with his own nerves.
Then he entered the cool darkness of the leader's den.
x - - - x"You wished to speak with me, Abelard?" Ripplestar was alone in the shadows of the brambles, his orange eyes trained expectantly on the young tom before him. If he had been surprised by the visit, he exhibited none of it, and instead folded his massive paws neatly before him as he waited for his visitor to speak. Propelled by his desire to prove Cloudpatch wrong, Abelard launched into an explanation. "Well, youseeRipplestarIwaswonderingsinceyouweresokindto-" A buff-colored tail clapped over his mouth, and Abelard found that he was incapable of speech around the thick fur. "Breathe, collect your words, and try again, kit." Ripplestar chided, although amusement edged his voice. "I can not understand what you are saying at the moment, and I do not think that's beneficial for either of us." After his statement, the noble tom withdrew his tail, and Abelard made another effort. His lungs filled with air, and instead of being pushed out full of words, the breath was empty as it escaped. Then he breathed again, his words chosen more carefully this time. "Ripplestar, sir, I was speaking with the elders earlier, and I would like to know if I could train as a full apprentice." Abelard paused for a moment, oblivious to the way Ripplestar twitched his whiskers at the hilarity of the energetic young cat purposely taking breaks to choose his words. "When I came to camp, you said that I could stay and help until my wounds healed, and now they are healed. While they were healing, I began to get used to the way camp and this life feels, and I wish to help more." He went on, before he finished with, "...I want nothing more than to train and be an apprentice and a warrior beside the others; Swiftpaw, Marshpaw, Troutpaw, Berrypaw, Shellpaw, and Ashpaw." A heavy silence draped over the leader's den, and Abelard was surprised to find that Ripplestar watched him carefully. "I am not against that, Abelard, but you've been fully warned of what becoming a full warrior entails, correct? You will need to learn to hunt, fight, and swim. That is a far sight more difficult than tending to the queens and elders, which you will continue to do as an apprentice. Not only are you expected to learn these skills, you are expected to use them, possibly going up against another cat in battle, and facing injury, or possibly even death. If I name you as a RiverClan apprentice, you will be expected to live your life for the Clan, just as your friends do. Alongside that, it will take some cats a long time to accept that a kittypet has become a warrior. It's not easy, but it's a satisfying life, I assure you." A deep chuckle rumbled from the tom's chest, however, and he added, "I am not trying to discourage you, Abelard, I am merely trying to make sure that you know what you are getting into." Abelard nodded, and the gravity of the situation gave the impression that his heart and his fur were weighed down with expectations. "I understand, and I still wish to be named as an apprentice." He had made up his mind, in the dappled shadows of the elders' den, and he couldn't back out of this promise now. He could - he would - rise to this challenge. Ripplestar nodded in acceptance. "Your naming ceremony will be at sundown then, Abelard. Before then, I must discuss this with Stormbrook, and find a suitable mentor for you." A flick of his pale ears was given to the younger cat. "You are dismissed for now. You'll know the summons when you hear them." - - - "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather before me now!" Ripplestar's words rang throughout the camp, and cats trickled from the dens and shade like water. Their confusion sounded like the chatter of the river itself, and it suddenly dawned on Abelard, how apt RiverClan's name was. Despite the rest of the Clan being puzzled, the grey tom knew what was about to happen. The enormity of it put him on pause for a split second, the fact that he'd finally, truly become one of these cats loomed before him, and the feeling was actually enticed him. He joined the rest of the Clan in the middle of the clearing, his gaze pinned on the cat that was about to become his leader, too. His leader's eyes met his own. "Abelard, you have lived with our Clan for half a moon now, and have shown that you are willing to commit to the life of a warrior, and it seems only fit that I name you as an apprentice. From this day forward, until you have received your warrior name, you will be known as Scorchpaw." Ripplestar's voice was serious, but the words came out easily, as if he had said these same words numerous times before now. "Your mentor will be Gingersplash. I hope Gingersplash will pass down all she knows to you." As if on cue, a red and white patched she-cat stepped forward, face to face with Scorchpaw. "Gingersplash, you are ready to take on another apprentice. You have received excellent training from Brightfrost, and have been an exceptional mentor for Greyfeather. You have shown yourself to be patient and clever, and I hope you may pass these traits on to Scorchpaw." "Touch my nose with your nose..." Gingersplash instructed Scorchpaw beneath her breath, and she dipped her head to make it easier for the young tom to reach. Scorchpaw did as she advised. The clearing was silent for a moment, and confusion buzzed in the air like an oncoming storm. The Clan hadn't expected their kittypet visitor to actually join them, and they hadn't been warned beforehand. However... "Scorchpaw! Scorchpaw!" A cheer had begun, towards the back. Scorchpaw recognized the voices of Swiftpaw, Berrypaw, Troutpaw, and Blackstream first. Then more voices joined in, Marshpaw, Ashpaw, Brightfrost. "Scorchpaw! Scorchpaw! Scorchpaw!" He heard the rusty croaks of the elders as well, Creekwhisper, Specklepelt, Alderstripe, and yes, even Cloudpatch! Scorchpaw lifted his head and basked in the calls from his friends, his new clanmates. Not everyone called his name, but he couldn't find it within himself to care, at the moment. He had been accepted into the Clan, at least by a few cats, and his new mentor watched him warmly, as if she knew how he felt.
x - - Chapters 9 and 10
"Scorchpaw, here's your chance!"
"Berrypaw, don't let him get the best of you!"
The two apprentices grappled in the shallows of the lake as they practiced their water combat skills. Abelard, now known as Scorchpaw, felt more alive than ever after he began to train as a warrior, and although it was difficult, he found himself in his nest at night, unable to regret a single choice. It was true, he had adjusted slowly to the practices of a true RiverClan apprentice, but he turned that on its head by simply working twice as hard.
Combat was definitely one of his stronger points, but he found himself slightly reluctant to hit Berrypaw too hard. It wasn't because she was his friend, he whacked Swiftpaw and Marshpaw around just fine, and had even gotten a few lucky hits in on Troutpaw and Ashpaw in some sessions. It was because Berrypaw was so small, even compared to her littermate.
The tabby she-cat didn't seem to mind his overwhelming size, however, and Scorchpaw found that being a gentleman only ended with his muzzle in the water more than once, and he judged that Marshpaw and Shellpaw were getting a good laugh out of the situation, from what he could hear from his waterlogged ears.
If someone had told Scorchpaw on the day he joined the clan that tiny Berrypaw was basically a whirlwind with fur, he would have laughed for hours. Even when he had gotten over his fear of accidentally crushing his denmate, she was hard to hit, even faster than Swiftpaw.
Scorchpaw was not laughing now. He'd never laugh at the thought of his little friend being a menace in battle ever again.
The three mentors, Brightfrost, Blackstream, and Gingersplash called for a short break, then, and Gingersplash gestured for Scorchpaw to make his way over to her. Not one to disobey the mentor, he dragged himself out of the water, gave his thick fur a shake, and trotted his way over to the ginger-patched warrior.
The grey apprentice appreciated the fact that his mentor tried to hide her amusement from him. Her orange eyes glowed with laughter, however, when she appraised the young tom.
"So what have we learned, Scorchpaw?" Gingersplash questioned mildly, her voice neutral.
"Berrypaw paid a fantastic amount of attention in training." Okay, maybe he was sulking just a little. This smart remark got him thwacked lightly with Gingersplash's tail, so he added. "She's really fast, so when I can hit her, I need to hit her hard to try to slow her down?" He guessed that this was the point she wanted him to touch on.
Gingersplash gave a small shrug and a dip of her head as a sign of approval. "That's...not the point I was going to make, but that's...technically not incorrect either?" Scorchpaw felt a small rush of pride at the fact he had considered something that the experienced warrior hadn't, which he stifled as she continued to give pointers. "I was going to tell you that you need to stop underestimating your opponents. You hesitated when it came to attacking Berrypaw, despite the fact that she's been in training for a full moon more than you've been." The ginger and white she-cat clarified, before she forged on with her advice. "You're right that Berrypaw's faster than you. She's smaller and more nimble, so it's harder for a big oaf like you to hit her." Gingersplash took the sting out of the 'oaf' comment with a small flick of her whiskers. "But she's not impossible to hit, and once you get her down, she'll have a harder time pushing you off. When you go back out there, I want you to watch for an opening, and try to pin her when you can. Don't drown her, please, but if you can pin her down and get a few good hits in while the two of you are in the shallow part of the lake, you might be able to get the upper paw in the battle." With that, she gave the young tom an affectionate headbutt. "Now get back out there and make sure the others know who the best mentor and apprentice in RiverClan are." She teased.
Scorchpaw nodded as he absorbed this information. Gingersplash's strategy buzzed in his head like a swarm of bees (a lesson he learned on his first hunting lesson), and he returned the she-cat's headbutt before he turned back towards the lake to face his opponent once more. He sloshed back into the water alongside Berrypaw, who turned her head towards him and continued to harry him.
"Ready to get fished out of the lake again, Scorchpaw?" There was no malice in the tabby apprentice's mew, which was something the bigger tom appreciated. The difference between she and her brother was like day and night, and Marshpaw was prickly more times than he was friendly. Despite this, he raised his chin, confidence regained, and shot a smug glance toward his friend.
"We'll see about that, Berrypaw. Next time I'll be fishing you out of the lake!" He retorted as they reached the point in the water they'd been fighting in before. An impatient voice rang out over the water.
"Stop sharin' tongues and get to sparring, you two! We'll have to name Shellpaw and Marshpaw warriors before the two of you get it together!" The comment came from Shellpaw's mentor, Reedpelt. The dusty she-cat gave an irritable snort, although she and Gingersplash gave the impression that there was some sort of wager in the making out on the shore.
Scorchpaw was confused by this comment - Shellpaw was supposed to get her warrior name at sundown, so did Reedpelt mean that it'd take them all day? Or did she mean that it'd take several moons, because Marshpaw admitted himself that it would be a while before he became a w-
The grey apprentice was yanked ferociously from his thoughts when his opponent cannoned into his side. The world became blurry and muffled for just a moment, but Scorchpaw had the capacity to realize that he needed to move before he was attacked again, thankfully. The hefty tom burst out of the water in a shower of glittering droplets, only to find...where was Berrypaw? The apprentice had been in front of him before he went under, so...
On instinct, Scorchpaw wheeled around as quickly as he could in the water to find that his opponent had planned to strike him from the side. When she found that she'd been discovered, though, the she-cat stopped short and swept her tail across the water. This sent a shower of lake water in his face, and the young tom found himself taking a step back to avoid the sensation. While he was distracted once more, Berrypaw took another opportunity to attack. She rose out of the water and vaulted onto the back of her much larger opponent.
His mentor's words came back to him, then, and Scorchpaw readied himself to fight defensively. Berrypaw had a weakness, and he could feel the light apprentice struggle as she made an attempt to force him below the water again. The tom, his fur becoming slick and black as it became soaked through with water once more, could feel her paws begin to slip. If he could fling her off fast enough to get her to lose her bearings...
Better to try it and fail than lose this spar entirely, he supposed. Scorchpaw heaved himself onto his hind paws with all his strength, his tail stuck out to correct his balance. After all, the last thing he wanted was to tumble down under the waves again himself. He heard a crash as Berrypaw hit the water, and turned to slam his massive paws down where he figured his friend had landed. Scorchpaw could almost taste the victory when he did, in fact, feel fur under his paws instead of sand, and he pummeled the she-cat as much as he could before she finally slipped out of his grip, slick as an eel.
Spurred on by his small victory, Scorchpaw gave more of an effort in the latter half of the spar, and while he still lost to Berrypaw, he lost by a less embarrassing margin. She had cornered him in a section of the lake that had much softer sand than he was used to, and she outperformed him while he corrected his footing.
Gingersplash reassured him on their way back to camp, though. He'd been training for just under a moon, and she'd had more training than him. His mentor merely told him to remember what he'd discovered in training that day, both about underestimating a smaller opponent and the need to train in different terrains. She promised him, however, that they'd go and catch fish in that section of the lake soon, which was an easier way (apparently) to learn how to handle himself than fighting was.
Later that afternoon, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, the apprentices heard the summons from where they'd been lounging outside of their den.
"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather before me now!"
Scorchpaw got to his paws, and noticed the others around him doing the same. He also observed that, instead of being around the younger cats, Ashpaw, Shellpaw, and Troutpaw were already seated before Ripplestar and Stormbrook with their mentors beside them.
"I've never seen a warrior ceremony before," Scorchpaw commented, so he tipped his head curiously towards Swiftpaw. He found that the relaxed young cat was the most likely to answer his questions. "...what's it like?"
Swiftpaw's eyes were bright as he responded, and his voice held a tinge of longing. "It's sort of like an apprentice ceremony, but even better. You're becoming a full member of the clan, and warriors are really respected."
Before the grey tom could respond, however, they had been seated, and the ceremony was about to begin. He sensed, by the hush in the air, that it'd be rude to continue talking, so instead he turned his eyes towards the newest warriors of RiverClan. If the ceremony itself didn't answer all of his questions, he could always ask the others later.
x - - - x
"We are gathered here today to hold one of my favorite ceremonies." Ripplestar began, once the clearing had quieted and the cats of RiverClan looked towards him. "Nothing gives me greater joy than when an apprentice finishes their training, and they're found fit to join the warriors of our clan." When the immense tom looked down upon the apprentices, Scorchpaw found that their orange depths shined fiercely, full of pride for the clan's newest warriors. "When I call your name, please step forward." The leader instructed, before he began the ceremony.
"Troutpaw, step forward."
As the young tom took his place in front of his father and leader, Scorchpaw observed that he tried to look as big and proud as the cat before him, chin held high and his chest puffed out.
""I, Ripplestar, leader of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this Apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a Warrior in his turn." Although Ripplestar's focus was on Troutpaw, Scorchpaw could feel the power of that stare all the way into the crowd. "Troutpaw, do you promise to uphold the Warrior Code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"
It was such a grave, heavy question, and Scorchpaw could hear the tremble in his former denmate's voice, determined not to buckle under the pressure of that promise. "I do."
"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your Warrior name. Troutpaw, from this moment you will be known as Troutleap. StarClan honors your strength and dedication, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan." When Ripplestar rested his chin on Troutleap's head, Scorchpaw noticed that some of the tension in the leader's shoulders had released, while Troutleap still looked pretty stiff as he licked his father's shoulder. This interaction perplexed the apprentice, Was Troutleap scared of becoming a warrior? He couldn't figure out why. The buff-colored tom was a skilled fighter and hunter, and Scorchpaw had no small amount of faith in him.
Next up was Ashpaw, who strode up to face her leader with a smooth, easy gait. The smoke-colored she-cat paused only briefly to press her head against Troutleap's shoulder, maybe in silent congratulations, then stood squarely in front of Ripplestar. Her voice rang out clearly as she vowed to protect RiverClan no matter the cost. Scorchpaw found himself impressed with her resolve, which was fittingly mentioned alongside her intelligence as she was renamed Ashpath.
Finally, Shellpaw was called up to be renamed. As the snowy she-cat took her place before her leader, her golden eyes wandered the clearing for a moment, then turned toward the sky for a heartbeat before they finally fell upon Ripplestar. Scorchpaw wondered, for a moment, what she wanted to look at, but then decided that maybe this was her way to deal with her nerves. Perhaps fitting with the solemn nature of the ceremony, Shellpaw's voice was equally serious as she promised to serve RiverClan. Then, after being praised for her energy (a few chuckles rumbled through the crowd at this) and spirit, the newly renamed Shellbounce stood beside her friends and faced the clan.
The din that followed was absolutely deafening to Scorchpaw, and his ears clapped to his head for a second before he became accustomed to the noise.
"Troutleap! Ashpath! Shellbounce!" RiverClan roared their approval for their newest warriors, and even the apprentices put aside their rivalry with the three cats to proudly welcome them into the clan. Once Scorchpaw was aware of what he was supposed to do, he joined in until the cheering trailed off to a stop.
After the ceremony had dispersed, Scorchpaw figured he should check on the queens and make sure they had something to eat. The dusky tom poked his head into the entrance to the bramble den and called out a quiet greeting. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the nursery, he saw two shapes resting. The closest, a golden queen with similarly colored eyes, answered his greeting first, her gaze on the large carp in Scorchpaw's mouth,
"Thank you, Scorchpaw." The gratitude in the queen's voice was clear, and she looked down at the tiny bundles of fur that squirmed beside her belly. "I haven't had much of a chance to get to my paws all day, with these four. It's almost like they can't get milk fast enough into those greedy mouths of theirs." Despite her words, the golden queen's voice was warm.
"It's no trouble, Gorseflight." Scorchpaw assured her, and he set the carp down between the two queens. Gorseflight had kitted a few days after he'd been named an apprentice, and while he was no expert on the matter, it seemed like having young kits was an exhausting ordeal. "I'm glad to hear they're doing well. Maybe one of our new warriors will get to mentor them when they're old enough?" He teased, since he hadn't seen either of the queens at the naming ceremony. He understood that Gorseflight couldn't leave her litter alone for very long yet, but...
"Yes, could you congratulate them for us, Scorchpaw?" The white queen finally spoke up, her eyes not leaving the kits she had finally lassoed closer to her body. Unlike Gorseflight's litter, these kits were four moons old, which Scorchpaw had heard was very close to the time they could be named as apprentices. While the thought of being one of the older apprentices in the den was exciting to him, he couldn't quite figure out why Frostbloom continued to treat them like they were newborns. Just earlier that day, before training, the terrible duo had pulled at the grey tom's tail and demanded that he teach them how to fish in the river.
"I'm surprised that you didn't go out there today, Frostbloom." Gorseflight spoke up again, the edge to her voice almost escaped the apprentice's notice, but it was there. "After all, your kits don't become warriors every day, you know?"
"Well, you know how kits are, Gorseflight. I can't just leave these two alone yet." Frostbloom responded, her whiskers giving an irritable twitch as she turned to face her denmate. If Longwhisker were here, he could watch them for a bit, but..."
Scorchpaw had only heard a little bit about Longwhisker. He was one of the first warriors to engage the dog pack, and he had been torn apart a few moons before the grey tom had ever arrived at RiverClan. A stab of pity ate at his stomach like a worm. He had no idea what it was like to lose a cat you loved, but he had felt similarly when he learned he couldn't go back to his human. However, the heavy air that filled the nursery was too much for him, so he bid a quiet farewell to the two she-cats and their kits, then backed out of the den to head to his own.
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Post by Headphone Actor on Jun 28, 2017 2:40:07 GMT -5
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"We all face storms in life. Some are more difficult than others, but we all go through trials and tribulation. That's why we have the gift of faith."x - - Chapters 11 and 12
"So is it just me...or are WindClan border markers getting weaker?" As he inspected a frond of bracken, Scorchpaw figured he should point this fact out to the rest of the patrol. Border patrols had been pretty weird lately, with the silent aggression from ShadowClan's border and this bizarre weakness of the WindClan border.
"Maybe the hares and rabbits caused an uprising?" Gingersplash theorized, with a twitch of her whiskers. This earned a snort from Scorchpaw, as well as from other members of the patrol. Troutleap didn't appear to hear the ginger and white she-cat's joke. Instead, the speckled tom wandered a short way away from the patrol, his nose in the heather that straddled the border. "I mean, have you seen some of their warriors and apprentices lately? I think the rabbits might actually be bigger than them." Despite her teasing, Scorchpaw noticed that his mentor's eyes were narrowed as she scanned the horizon and that her forepaw had scraped a little bare spot in the grass.
Perhaps he had been staring too long, or too obviously because suddenly, Gingersplash sprang into action. "We need to get to the bottom of this." She decided firmly, with a sweep of her plumed tail. "Troutleap, I want you, Birchpaw, Piketooth, and Swiftpaw to head further west down the border. Stay within hearing range of Brightfrost, Berrypaw, Scorchpaw, and I." She ordered, waiting for the young warrior to confirm he understood before she turned to the warriors she had left. "We'll be investigating further east. We need to look for signs to know if anything's happened. Dog fur, cat fur, signs of a scuffle." She elaborated to her own scouting party.
Brightfrost's own eyes were narrowed in thought, but she immediately got down to business. Despite being the senior warrior on the patrol, she had assigned the ginger and white she-cat leader in her wake, citing that Gingersplash was a younger warrior and needed the experience. Had she been predicting this? Probably not, but Scorchpaw figured that solving a border mystery was about as 'experienced' as you could get without actually shredding something.
The party scoured the border for signs of a fight, but their results had turned up poorly. Scorchpaw had found a little bit of dog fur, but no signs of a fight. He could feel the unease coming from the two older, more experienced warriors, and it set his fur on end. A quick glance at his friend showed wide eyes, filled with doubt. Berrypaw was an absolute hellion in battle, but the prospect of encountering the dogs, some of which might have actually incapacitated WindClan, made her hesitate.
That hesitation was broken by Brightfrost's voice, which shattered the uncomfortable silence like thin ice. "If WindClan wasn't attacked by the dogs on their border, then something else must be at play here..." She began before her bright blue eyes fell on her apprentice. "Berrypaw, what do you think?"
Scorchpaw watched as his friend puzzled over the situation. Finally, Berrypaw spoke up after she had considered a response. "They might be dealing with an illness or something - whatever it is, they might be confined to camp and incapable of marking their borders." She reasoned. The small tabby she-cat relaxed a little when her mentor gave her a nod of approval.
"...and how do you think we should solve this problem, Scorchpaw?"
Put on the spot by Gingersplash, Scorchpaw struggled to find an answer. "We might send Alderstripe or Minnowpaw to check on Goldenleaf and her apprentice, and see if they need any assistance." Emboldened by his mentor's encouragement to go on, he continued, his voice stronger. "Sending a patrol of warriors to check on WindClan would seem pushy and heavy-pawed, and they might think we're trying to push them around," He paused for a moment before he finished his sentence. "Or, worst case scenario, they think we're attacking them."
Brightfrost grunted in agreement. "A medicine cat is a sign of worry and assistance. A patrol of warriors is a threat." The silvery she-cat opened her mouth to speak again, but whatever she was about to say was drowned out by a yowl, coming from further down the borderline.
"That's Piketooth! We need to get down there!"
The four cats hurtled toward the noise, fur standing on end as they mentally prepared themselves for whatever horror they might come across.
- - - Swiftpaw stared down the hostile cats before him. He didn't dare to back down because, after all, the four of them hadn't done anything wrong. Birchpaw stood between the two quarreling parties, her eyes fixed on her paws and the small rabbit that lay between them. A spark of worry kindled in the dusty tom's stomach. How were they supposed to take on an entire patrol - an abnormally large patrol, by the looks of it - with two trained warriors, a half-trained apprentice, and an apprentice on her first day out of camp.
As he fought to find a peaceful solution to this fiasco, Piketooth spoke up. Swiftpaw thought that his mentor was a great warrior, proud, fierce, and undoubtedly loyal to RiverClan, but he had butted heads countless times with the long-toothed tom. In Swiftpaw's opinion, Piketooth's answer to every problem was to fight his way out of it tooth and claw, but that was clearly a stupid idea, faced with these odds.
"Back off, before I make you back off, rabbit-chaser!" The lanky silver tom spat and took a step towards Birchpaw as if he wanted to step between the little apprentice and the defending clan. "That rabbit was found on our side of the border! It's ours."
"The rabbit was killed on our side of the border, fish-breath!" Piketooth's venom was matched by a ragged black she-cat, who was leading the patrol, by the way, the other cats would frequently look at her. Swiftpaw's heart fell. There had to be at least nine cats on that patrol, and only one of them looked young enough to be an apprentice.
As luck would have it, the rest of their own patrol arrived, and the odds were evened a little. Even with the addition of Brightfrost, Gingersplash, Berrypaw, and Scorchpaw, however, Swiftpaw didn't want to place their bets on a battle.
"What is the meaning of this?" Brightfrost strode ahead of the rest of the cats, and while her voice had settled into a deceptive calm, her eyes blazed when she beheld the WindClan patrol. Despite the trouble that lurked in the air, Swiftpaw had the quick, derisive thought that they had succeeded in finding their WindClan cats. More seriously, he watched the regal silver warrior carefully. He looked up to the senior warrior and tried to emulate her actions more than he did the actions of his own mentor, honestly.
"One of your warriors crossed the border and stole prey, Brightfrost!" The black she-cat spoke again, her back arched in obvious anger. "Even if that rabbit had started out on RiverClan land, it ended up on WindClan's side of the border, where your apprentice chased it over and killed it!" A sneer crept into her voice with her next statement. "Do apprentices not know what border markers smell like in RiverClan?"
Troutleap's forehead wrinkled in annoyance. "It's pretty hard to know what a border marker smells like when you never mark them, Darkbriar." The speckled warrior jumped in to defend his own apprentice now, even though his voice stayed even, and his fur remained smooth. Criticize as he might, Swiftpaw couldn't say that his former denmate was an idiot. He, like Brightfrost and Swiftpaw, had recognized that this wasn't a situation to barge into, teeth bared.
Darkbriar. Swiftpaw had never met her before now, but he'd heard stories of the hot-headed WindClan deputy. She was a skilled fighter, and stubborn to boot, but she could be reasoned with if they spoke before things escalated further. If they got her fighting, she'd probably never retreat, or let them retreat if things turned south. This fight could not happen. Unconsciously, he stepped forward. He tried to ignore the stares burning his pelt and swallowed hard to clear the dryness out of his mouth before he spoke.
"Darkbriar, Birchpaw has only been an apprentice for a day and a half. We were on a border patrol while Troutleap was showing her the territory, and she saw a rabbit and chased it. We're not denying that it was killed on the WindClan side of the border, but keep in mind that she's a young apprentice, and with your borders being...faint...she overlooked them while she was chasing it." He gave what he hoped was a respectful nod towards the WindClan deputy, and felt his mentor stiffen beside him. He had no time to worry about that right now, however, and he glanced at Brightfrost and Gingersplash to gauge their reactions before he turned back to Darkbriar and looked her directly in the eyes. "We don't wish for a fight, and we'll get off your territory immediately." Chest tight with nerves, he looked once more to Brightfrost. Would they leave immediately? Or had he just gotten himself in a load of trouble for opening his fat mouth?
However, that fire in the elder she-cat's eyes had burned down. She gave Swiftpaw an inquisitive stare before she nodded in agreement. "He's correct, Darkbriar. We had no intentions of intruding, so we'll take the rabbit and get out of your hair." She promised before she gestured for Birchpaw to pick up the fresh-kill. The senior warrior made a motion that implied the rest of the party should exit before her, and she and Piketooth picked up the rear, not saying another word to the hostile patrol.
A look around the patrol once more revealed Troutleap to be muttering something to Birchpaw, but Swiftpaw couldn't discern if the speckled tom was lecturing his apprentice or comforting her. Gingersplash and Scorchpaw were discussing something too, a little less quietly, and he thought he could pick up a discussion about how underfed the WindClan cats appeared just now. Berrypaw fell back once they crossed back over into RiverClan territory, and he heard her express her relief to Brightfrost that at least their neighbors weren't sick.
Which left...
"I can't believe you backed out of another fight, Drypaw!" Piketooth snorted, not quite as discreet as the other mentors. "We could have taken the lot of them! They were starv-"
"That fight still wouldn't have been to our advantage, Piketooth, and you know it." Swiftpaw cut him off as the all-too-familiar frustration built up in his chest. "They still outnumbered us, and Birchpaw has had zero battle training." He countered, which caused the older tom to relent a little.
"They were insistent on that rabbit, though. If they're getting all hopped up over that one piece of prey, they're clearly in no shape for battle." The silver tom reasoned next and gave a small shrug.
"Yes, but if we get that worked up over a piece of prey, can we really criticize them?" Gingersplash had reentered the conversation, and Swiftpaw felt a twinge of gratitude. It was nice to know that a full warrior agreed with him, at least. "Brightfrost, what do you think?" The white and ginger she-cat shot a glance back at the senior warrior, and Swiftpaw was anxious to hear her opinion as well.
"I think that was the right decision, Piketooth, Swiftpaw. Leafbare is going to be coming soon, and while we need all the prey we can get, we need the least injuries we can afford as well. Swiftpaw, you managed to back out of a fight before it turned to bloodshed, and we were still able to keep Birchpaw's rabbit. She should be proud of the catch, although mindful of where she's putting her paws next time, and he should be proud of his decision, although next time I'd like him to check with the leader of the patrol before he puts himself out there." Was that a twitch of amusement in the old queen's whiskers? "The situation called for immediate action, though, and you should be proud of your apprentice, Piketooth."
A grunt was heard from the strict warrior, but quiet conversation filled the rest of the patrol home, mostly about the incident. When they reached camp, Brightfrost turned towards Gingersplash. "You should make your report to Ripplestar and Stormbrook." She reminded the younger warrior, while the rest of the patrol dispersed back into the camp. A short nod was given, before Gingersplash turned towards the leader's den.
Swiftpaw watched his mentor walk off for a moment, before jumping when he felt a shoulder bump into him. He turned to see Scorchpaw, eyes bright with laughter. "Don't worry, I'm not some vengeful WindClan patrol, back to fight you for a scrap of prey." The grey tom's massive paws shuffled the ground for a heartbeat. "We should probably grab some food with the others, you know. You, Berrypaw, and I can tell them how you fought off the WindClan deputy with some strong words."
The dust-colored tom snorted in response because he should have figured the big furball would immediately see light in the situation. However, he looked over towards the boulder where the apprentices normally ate together and saw that Birchpaw had already beaten them both to the rest of the gang, energetically recounting the day's events to her brother and Marshpaw, while Berrypaw broke in every now and then, clearly trying to correct the little apprentice.
The tightness that had been constricting Swiftpaw's chest eased slightly when he saw all of his friends gathered. Piketooth could be disappointed all he wanted. He'd gotten a compliment from Gingersplash and Brightfrost, and his fellow apprentices seemed to think that he was cooler than he actually was.
"Yeah, we should probably get there before Birchpaw tells them I actually fought off Darkbriar, though."
x - - - x
The energetic chatter of his friends was a balm on Swiftpaw's nerves, after the tension of the border encounter. News traveled like a wildfire, and the light brown tom was very well aware of stares, both of curiosity and approval, burning into his fur. However, Swiftpaw couldn't bring himself to pay attention to the conversation all that well. Birchpaw's energetic chatter, as well as Marshpaw's grumbling that he had completely missed the action, were quickly tuned out.
Something in the air felt almost...wrong, and Swiftpaw was determined to get to the bottom of it. His pale yellow eyes scanned the camp, first, and stopped on each individual warrior. No one looked hurt, but there was something...
Finally, he made it to the source. No one was hurt, or looked like they were sick (who knew on that one, Swiftpaw wasn't a medicine cat), but there was an air of concern coming from some of the warriors that was directed back to a single cat. This cat slunk through the shadows, his usually bright orange eyes downcast and fixed on anything that wasn't another cat. This came as a surprise to the apprentice, because the young warrior was normally bouncing from place to place. Especially as of late. However, Scorchpaw beat him to the question.
"Hey, what's up with Blackstream? He looks pretty rough." While his voice was muffled by food, Swiftpaw could still detect the confusion and worry in his friend's voice. This didn't surprise him at all, however. Scorchpaw would often jump to have Gingersplash take him hunting with Blackstream and Marshpaw, and there was no doubt in his mind that his friend wanted to be like the easygoing warrior that was one of the first to rescue him. "...are his kits okay?"
It felt like a heavy pit had formed in Swiftpaw's stomach as the obvious was said out loud. Surely, only something like that could make Blackstream look so completely crushed, after all. Suddenly, his trout didn't taste so good to him. Honeykit, Jaykit, and Patchkit. They meant the world to the black and white warrior, and Swiftpaw had grown fond of his kin as well. Plus, hadn't he seen Blackstream hanging around the medicine den this morning before the patrol? If those three were sick or hurt...
"The kits are fine, don't worry." Minnowpaw's soft voice broke through Swiftpaw's panic and grounded the older apprentice back to the present. The pale tom turned to see the eyes of the dark tabby on him, and his friend gave a comforting blink. "They're asleep with Gorseflight, in the nursery." He promised, and Swiftpaw felt the fur on his back flatten back out.
"Right, so if the kits are fine, and Gorseflight is fine, what's with Blackstream?" Birchpaw spoke up, her head tipped to the side as she questioned her littermate. "You don't look like that if you're 'just fine', and especially not if you're him."
While Swiftpaw would have tried to word it a little more gently, he had to admit that his denmate wasn't wrong.
Minnowpaw ducked his head under the force of Birchpaw's stare, and the youngest tom shuffled his paws with uncertainty. "I don't know much about it, and I...I probably shouldn't say too much, but Alderstripe and Blackstream had a sort of..." He paused again, his forehead wrinkled as he tried to think of the correct word. Honestly, if you asked Swiftpaw, Minnowpaw's apprenticeship to the sharp, strict old cat had done him some good. He had been a bit of a brat as a kit, and he already seemed to learn well under Alderstripe's guidance. "...kind of an argument, but it wasn't?" Minnowpaw tried, then. "Alderstripe had some sort of vision, and when Blackstream came by today, he just sort of...brushed him off and snapped at him a little."
Three of the elder apprentices looked at one another, their eyes filled with uncertainty. Two pairs of green, and one pair of yellow met, while Marshpaw's stayed on the little tabby apprentice. "Why would he do that, Minnowpaw?" There was already a defensive edge to Marshpaw's voice, and Minnowpaw felt it and cowered back a little bit. "It's not like Blackstream could have had the vision - he hasn't been Alderstripe's apprentice in moons. So what does some message in a dream from some cat that's long dead mean to him?"
The medicine cat apprentice didn't have an answer for Marshpaw, and he ducked his head awkwardly to take a bite of the frog between his paws. This only incensed the tabby warrior apprentice further, and his bright green eyes narrowed in both irritation and curiosity.
"Alderstripe can't possibly think Blackstream is some sort of threat, can he?" Swiftpaw was shocked to hear a voice of reason come from Scorchpaw of all cats. "Has he met Blackstream? He got pummeled by his kits like...three days ago!" The fluffy grey tom didn't look as angry as Marshpaw, but more like he held back laughter at the sheer absurdity of the thought.
"Yeah, honestly he'd have to leave the nursery for more than a heartbeat for me to consider him some sort of great, evil threat." A derisive snort came from Berrypaw, on the other side of Marshpaw. The jokes and teasing about his mentor seemed to mollify their denmate a marginal amount, and some of the tension in the brown tabby's shoulders released.
Minnowpaw didn't look quite as convinced. "I mean...Alderstripe's been doing this for a long time, you guys, and the omen itself appeared really clear..." He quailed under Marshpaw's glare, then, as if the older tom's eyes were forcefully pushing him into the packed dirt of the camp. It suddenly occurred to Swiftpaw that his friend might actually spring onto the smaller cat, and he gave Marshpaw what he hoped was a lighthearted nudge.
"But omens are made to be unclear, aren't they Minnowpaw? I hear Alderstripe grumbling all the time about how StarClan can't seem to give him a straight answer." The pale tom teased, his voice forced to be light and level. "Let's just give it a little more time, and maybe try to convince the old furball that he might be reading it wrong, and get him to consider it again, right?" It was getting easier to force now, this cheer, and he added, "We'll make sure to tell either of you if Blackstream starts plotting any diabolical schemes, or so much as puts a paw outside of the nursery." After Minnowpaw gave a bashful nod, he turned his attention to Marshpaw. "You might want to go check on him, Marshpaw. Maybe you can get him to take his mind off of things by hunting with Piketooth and I tomorrow? You know I could use the company."
Marshpaw grumbled something unintelligible, but got to his paws, his fresh-kill only half eaten as he made his way across the camp to his mentor, and Swiftpaw only hoped that he was right about this.
x - - Chapters 13 and 14
Marshpaw hurried across the camp, winding his way around the warriors that bustled about their daily tasks, He was jarred into paying attention when he collided head-on with a large warrior, but seeing as it was only Tigerpelt, he continued on his way. The tabby-striped senior warrior didn't want anything to do with him, and Marshpaw didn't even feel up to trying today. He ducked his head in apology, then continued on his way, his nerves jangled by the encounter.
It had disoriented the young Marshpaw, a few moons ago when he was named Blackstream's apprentice. Sure, everyone had visited the nursery and played with him and Berrypaw when they were kits, but the sudden fatherly warmth was a bit of an oddity to him. However, Blackstream did his best to fill those pawsteps, and Marshpaw had grown incredibly fond of his mentor. The lanky black tom was always a paw step behind him with advice and encouragement, and now it was Marshpaw's turn to rally his friend from this low point.
A conversation stopped the young tabby short, though, and his ears perked in an effort to hear more.
"I'm sorry, Stormbrook, but there's no place in RiverClan for a warrior who can't swim!" Piketooth's voice reached Marshpaw's ears first, and the apprentice turned his head until he located the two silver cats in the corner of the camp, heads low as they discussed the matter at hand. It didn't take a genius, but Marshpaw had already figured out who the topic of their conversation was. "He's not ready, and that's that!"
"Ripplestar and I noticed that, despite his...shortcomings, he passed both of his assessments, in hunting and fighting." The deputy was not to be deterred, and the battle-scarred she-cat shot a look toward the senior warrior that could set the old tom ablaze. "While he can't fight in water, and isn't the best fisher, he's highly capable of fighting on dry land and hunting ground prey. If what Gingersplash and Brightfrost told me today is true, then he's also shown himself capable of navigating conflicts with other clans." Her gaze softened a little, then, and she gave Piketooth a nudge with her muzzle. "I know you see Swiftpaw's potential and want him to be at his very best before he's named a warrior, but he's nearing twelve moons and has succeeded in every other test required of him," Then added, "But there are some skills you can't teach him, and some battles he'll have to fight alone, okay?"
This explanation had smoothed some of the fur on Piketooth's back, and he sighed. "I suppose you're right, Stormbrook." He admitted before he fixed his eyes on his sister. "I figured being harder on him would get him to try to prove me wrong, but I think it's only made him think I'm some hard-headed old coot." He snorted.
Marshpaw continued on his way then, before either of the older cats noticed he'd been eavesdropping. He continued his mission, but something lightened in his chest, just a tiny bit. Thank StarClan, there was some sort of good news today. Fights with WindClan, fights with ShadowClan, fighting between Alderstripe and Blackstream...the whole thing had begun to drive Marshpaw batty, and he figured that being cooped up in camp hadn't helped his nerves. Before he could continue that train of thought, however, all thoughts about Swiftpaw becoming a warrior were driven out of his head by the sight of Blackstream.
The lanky black tom had taken up a post at the edge of camp, a pawful of leaves and berries at his paws. As Marshpaw watched, Blackstream shuffled the leaves back and forth, in different combinations with the berries.
Marshpaw was about to call out to the older tom, but it appeared that he'd been noticed first. His mentor's ears swiveled back in his direction, even if he didn't lift his head. "Oh hey, Marshpaw..."
The apprentice could hear the forced note in Blackstream's voice, cheer that wasn't quite there. He didn't even know why the black tom was playing this game with him. Marshpaw had complained about his incessant good cheer enough to tell the real from the fake. Instead of calling him out on this, though, he played along for a bit. "Hey, Blackstream, What's that?" A nod towards the pile of plants clarified what he was referring to, but he still added, "Don't tell me that the reason Alderstripe is so cross is that you're trying to take his job." His shoulder butted against the top of Blackstream's leg, a friendly tease.
"Oh this...? This is just some..." Blackstream dipped his head forward to study the leaves. "Dock leaves. I was going to give them to Alderstripe earlier, but he sort of chased me off before I could." He explained, his paw still fumbling with the herbs. "Juniper berries, too. He told me some of the elders were complaining about bad stomach pains earlier, and Cloudpatch is even sick right now." The tom's ears flattened against his head, then. "Alderstripe wouldn't have me in there, though. Acted like I wasn't even there, and I don't even know what I did."
Marshpaw's stomach hurt, itself. But not from bad prey, or cold weather, but from stress. Did he tell Blackstream about what Minnowpaw told him? Maybe he should. If the medicine cats were having dreams about him, then he had every right to know. But maybe he shouldn't after all? Personally, the brown tabby apprentice thought Blackstream was about as dangerous to RiverClan as a baby rabbit, but what if telling him about it forced him into action? Blackstream was an avid believer in destiny, and if he knew he was some sort of danger to their clan, he might do something stupid, like leave the clans entirely. This thought sent Marshpaw into a new state of distress. Blackstream was like an older brother and a father to him, all rolled up into one. He couldn't leave the clan! Not on the word of some addled old cat and his occasionally dopey apprentice.
So, he lied.
"I don't think you did anything wrong, Blackstream." Marshpaw promised, giving the older tom a friendly flick of his tail. "You forget that Alderstripe is madder than a fox in a fit, and basically ancient, at that." He joked. "Maybe he thought that you were some ancient evil cat or something, come from the Dark Forest to pester him." The more he made fun of the idea, the more ridiculous it seemed. "Or maybe he thought you were a dog! Next time, you should just barge into his den, barking or something."
A purr of laughter came from Blackstream, and Marshpaw was relieved to see that some of that invisible weight had lifted off of his mentor's shoulders.
"I suppose you're right, Marshpaw. Alderstripe hasn't really been himself lately, and maybe the stress of teaching Minnowpaw, plus his age, is just getting to him." As Blackstream agreed with his idea, he gave the impression that he had begun to believe this theory himself.
"Although, if you really want to be a danger to RiverClan, you can always just make your poor apprentice stay in camp and not train him, you know." Marshpaw continued to rib Blackstream, aware that the lighter turn in the conversation had made his friend feel a little better. "You'd think that those kits of yours could do without you hovering over them for part of the day - isn't that Gorseflight's job?"
Blackstream rolled his eyes and gave Marshpaw a push with his shoulder, which almost caused the smaller cat to fall over. "Alright, alright, you've made your point. We'll head out with the dawn patrol tomorrow, so you'd better get some rest."
As he was shooed away by his mentor, the small brown tabby noticed that a little bit of his frustration had faded. Even still, there was a question buried deep in his chest, one he hadn't dared to ask earlier.
What had Alderstripe and Minnowpaw seen that immediately made them suspect Blackstream, of all cats?
x - - - x
"So then what happens at a Gathering?" Scorchpaw had spent the entire sunset patrol by Shellbounce's side, curious to learn more about the upcoming Gathering. Ripplestar had warned him to stay at the lake for a few moons before he presented himself before the other clans, but the large grey tom could hardly be frightened. After four moons of training, though, their leader had finally deemed him worthy to go to the next one, which happened to be the next night. This, of course ignited his curiosity, and as he patrolled with Gingersplash, Troutleap, Birchpaw, and Shellbounce, he chattered incessantly.
"Not much, if we're lucky." The white warrior had been patient with the apprentice's questions, which was more than he could say for literally everyone else he'd asked earlier in the day. "With these dogs prowling around, the other clan leaders probably aren't stupid enough to pick fights with everyone else." This earned a snort from Troutleap, up ahead, and Shellbounce amended her statement with a twitch of her whiskers. "They'd do good to not pick fights, anyway."
"I'm worried about Pricklestar, myself." Gingersplash spoke up next, and her orange eyes glanced back towards the younger cats. "ThunderClan is across the lake, so Redstar isn't likely to start nonsense. He knows better than that. Alongside that, from the way they've been acting recently, Shadestar probably wants WindClan to stay to themselves too. However Pricklestar..." A gusty sigh came from the leader of their patrol, and Scorchpaw could almost feel her eyes roll. "Well, her name and the strength of her clan's borders ought to speak for themselves."
"Ugh, I can smell it from over here!" Birchpaw's nose wrinkled in disgust, and Scorchpaw found that he had to agree with her. They were still quite some distance from the ShadowClan border, and the smell almost overpowered any of the RiverClan smell he'd gotten used to. "Can't we ask them to jump in the river or something? Normal bathing clearly isn't d-oomf!" The small white and tabby she-cat was silenced with Shellbounce's tail in her mouth.
Alarmed, Scorchpaw looked towards the other members of the patrol, only for Troutleap to nod briefly, silently, to a shady spot under some trees. It was then that he realized why ShadowClan's scent was so strong, so far away from their border.
Three cats lay beneath the trees, freshly-killed mice between their paws.
- - - Berrypaw hated being in Alderstripe's den. The smell of herbs made her sneeze, and she always felt so useless around sick cats. However, she prided herself on being the most faithful littermate in RiverClan, and that meant that she helped her brother when he needed it. Right now, Marshpaw needed her help. He'd been ruffled up about this 'omen' business all day, and she was tired of seeing him in a huff. Of course, she agreed with him. It took a special kind of crazy to imagine Blackstream as any sort of danger, and it made her curious as to what made Alderstripe and Minnowpaw so sure of this interpretation. Unlike Marshpaw, who seemed to think with his claws first, and his brain second, Berrypaw thought she'd do this the right way. So now, she and her brother were sat in the medicine den with Minnowpaw, and they were on the case. She had no idea where the old tabby was, but he'd left camp, which was good enough for her. That gave them plenty of time to question Minnowpaw further. Cloudpatch was curled in a nest on the far side of the den, but he appeared to be asleep. Thanks to this, the three apprentices were alone to speak. "Is he going to be okay?" Berrypaw started, and her muzzle bobbed in the sickly elder's direction. Nice and easy...Minnowpaw was a pretty jumpy cat sometimes, but fiercely loyal to his new mentor. He'd definitely matured a lot since he left the nursery, and Berrypaw found herself reluctant to corner him and upset him. "He seems pretty sick." "He'll be fine." Despite his words, Minnowpaw's tone implied that the elder might not be in RiverClan much longer. The small, dark tabby tom's ears lay flat against his head, and his light yellow eyes didn't leave his patient. A tremor could be heard in his words, and Berrypaw draped her tail over his shoulder in an attempt to comfort the inexperienced young cat. Mentally, she cursed Alderstripe for this. In what world was it a good idea to leave an inexperienced apprentice alone with a cat who was sick with something they hadn't even figured out? Minnowpaw had hardly been an apprentice for a good two moons, and this was a huge responsibility to pile on him. She was about to offer some sort of encouragement to the young medicine cat apprentice. She didn't really know what to say to him. Hey, he's old anyway, there's not much you can do if StarClan decides it's time. No, that wouldn't help here. However, she was saved from this awkward ordeal by Marshpaw's impatient shuffling beside her. Time to start investigating. "Is Alderstripe out now, looking for some herbs that might heal Cloudpatch faster?" It was a serious question, and it'd give her a better idea of the situation. "...or is he talking to StarClan about that omen you mentioned earlier?" Berrypaw thought it was important to know whether the medicine cat was just out and about the territory, looking for herbs, or if he'd traveled all the way to the Moonpool. Something told her that the cranky old tom wouldn't be too thrilled to have two apprentices in his den, pestering his own apprentice for information about an omen that, as far as she knew, not much of the clan even knew about right now. "He's out looking for herbs." Minnowpaw seemed unphased by the question, and Berrypaw wondered if her question might worm some answers out of the timid little tabby. "We've tried yarrow because we thought it might be some kind of poison he ate somehow. That didn't work, so Alderstripe is going out to get some juniper berries to see it that will ease his breathing and the stomach problems he'd been complaining about. He can't really do much about the black river sign right now, StarClan isn't sharing anything else with us." The young apprentice's ears tucked close to his head again, and he didn't meet their eyes. "...I don't think juniper is going to help, though." He admitted, a somber tone in his voice that seemed...unusual for a cat his age. Although, Berrypaw had to admit that this was a pretty grave situation. "What makes you think juniper berries aren't going to help?" Marshpaw broke in, his curiosity tinged with a little bit of annoyance. "Just earlier, you made it sound like Alderstripe knows everything. So what makes him wrong this time?" His tone was belligerent, with just a tiny hint of mockery from the smaller tabby's words earlier. Berrypaw shot her brother the sternest look she could manage. He was impatient and was worried about Blackstream, but there was no reason to take this out on Minnowpaw, of all cats! Minnowpaw shot the brown tabby a cross look, and Berrypaw couldn't blame him. However, he regained his composure before he gave his opinion. "None of the other herbs for breathing and bellyache are working on him! Watermint and coltsfoot have been useless so far, and before he collapsed, Cloudpatch mentioned something about his prey smelling funny the night before. We thought it was bad prey, so we had him chew up some yarrow to throw it back up. That only made it worse, though." The dark tabby looked back at the old black and white tom for a moment, before he turned back to his fellow apprentices. Something occurred to Berrypaw, though, and she tipped her head in curiosity. "Not to change the subject, Minnowpaw, but is the black river sign the dream that has Alderstripe acting like a fox in a fit if Blackstream so much as looks at him?" She could definitely see how that was incriminating. Technically, it didn't get much clearer than that. Except... "I know that kind of sounds bad, but have you two actually seen Blackstream in the dreams, or is this just an assumption?" - - - Gingersplash signalled silently for the rest of the patrol to move forward with a tiny kink of her tail. Her fur, along with the pelts of the other members of the patrol, were bushed out as much as they could be, which easily made the patrol of six cats look twice their size. Scorchpaw remembered this being one of the first things he was taught. Apparently, if all their fur was on end, enemies couldn't tell what was fur and what was muscle. His mentor had teased him endlessly about being a big lump, with even bigger fur, but the young grey tom was finally aware of how useful this seemed. Scorchpaw was already big for his age, and he was far from done. The harsh training from clan life had filled his frame out with muscle instead of fat, and his long fur only added to that. He turned his eyes towards the older cats and wondered if they were going to attack, or try to reason this out. "RiverClan, attack!" Apparently, there was nothing to reason out? Scorchpaw followed his friends into battle, rocketing in alongside Birchpaw. He and the younger apprentice singled out one of the younger looking warriors, a bright red tom with darker stripes, and launched their attack. They fought as a team, while Troutleap took on one warrior, and Shellbounce and Gingersplash took on the final, and biggest, invader. The ShadowClan cats certainly didn't seem to realize what had hit them. The ginger tom that he and Birchpaw had targeted gazed wide-eyed at them as they approached, before he came to his senses. He and Scorchpaw grappled with one another, a whirling ball of fur. Birchpaw attacked from behind, and Scorchpaw had the vague thought that maybe their warrior wasn't very experienced. Or at least, not very old. He had been clawing at the grey tom bravely, but when the second pair of claws came into the picture, he became loose and unfocused. Scorchpaw used this distraction as an advantage, and when the ginger tom turned to claw at Birchpaw's nose, he slammed his head into the intruder's side as hard as he could, which bowled the ginger warrior over. While he regained his sense, the white and tabby apprentice raked her own claws over his muzzle. Overwhelmed by the two cats, the red tom fled back in the direction of the border. Freed from battle, Scorchpaw studied the rest of the battleground. Gingersplash and Shellbounce had chased off their opponent, Shellbounce following after the large warrior with some angry nips to his haunches. Meanwhile, the grey tom was surprised to see that Troutleap's opponent hardly had a scratch on his pelt. In spite of this, the snowy tom appeared to be very battered, and after a final slam into the ground by the brown ticked warrior, he limped off as swiftly as he could. Gingersplash hardly seemed bothered by the battle, and she motioned to the rest of the patrol. "I don't think there will be any more today, but we may as well check the border to make sure. Afterward, we need to return to camp and report to Ripplestar." After this decision, she made her way to the ShadowClan border, and Scorchpaw did his best to try to hold his breath and follow. - - - "I, Ripplestar, leader of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn."
Swiftpaw trembled in excitement. It was finally here! After moons of training and scorn, he was actually going to be a full warrior! He tried his best to sit tall before Ripplestar, and look worthy of receiving this honor. He didn't have to turn his head to bask in the warmth he felt from the eyes of his parents and friends, all watching him from the throng behind him.
"Swiftpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?" Ripplestar looked down at him, and Swiftpaw found that he couldn't read the buff tabby's expression. Was he proud of him? Or did he share Piketooth's opinion that his naming should be delayed? With a small gulp, the pale apprentice broke himself out of these thoughts. It didn't matter. He was being named right now. All it took was two words.
"I do." Swiftpaw made sure his voice remained level, and he fought to keep the tip of his tail still. The urge to twitch, or do something, was overwhelming, to say the least.
"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Swiftpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Swiftsong. StarClan honors your strategy and thoughtfulness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan." Ripplestar rested his muzzle on Swiftsong's shoulder, and the young tom remembered to lick his leader's shoulder respectfully. He tried to pick out the individual voices of the cats calling his new name, but most voices were unintelligible in this din. "Get something to eat, Swiftsong, and then you can start your vigil."
The pale tom nodded once more, and gave up on trying to decipher his leader. Instead, he met his friends over by the fresh-kill pile.
"Swiftsong, huh? Nice." Marshpaw's shoulder bumped into his, and Swiftsong butted his shoulder right back into the shorter tom. "I thought you'd be named Swiftrump, considering how fast you ran when Scorchpaw and Birchpaw scared you the other day." The brown tabby's eyes laughed as much as his voice, which took a little bit of the sting from his words.
"I'm still shocked he didn't tear them in half." Berrypaw was only a pawstep behind her brother, as usual, and Swiftsong found he had to agree with her. Earlier that moon, the other two apprentices had thought that hiding in the shallow part of the lake and springing up at their friend while he drank would be a hilarious prank.
It had not been a hilarious prank.
Swiftsong didn't particularly hold it against either of them, though. They didn't know it would startle him like it did, and Scorchpaw was still apologizing to him. Birchpaw still maintained that it was a great joke, though, and as far as Swiftsong knew, she planned to do it again to Shellbounce or Ashpath.
He figured he'd let the two fiery she-cats handle that on their own.
Instead, he turned towards his two oldest friends. "Anyway, what did you two find out from Minnowpaw?" The mystery of the two medicine cats and Blackstream had captured the imaginations of all of the apprentices, and the two littermates had gone after the younger of the two healers earlier in the day. He figured Berrypaw could coax some sort of answer from him, and if he didn't let Marshpaw go, he'd just run off and thrash the little tabby on his own.
That was a very discouraging look in Berrypaw's eyes.
"Not much, honestly, but listen to this..."
x - - Chapters 15 and 16
"So, Alderstripe and Minnowpaw haven't seen a sign from StarClan that, without a doubt, says that Blackstream is the danger?" Scorchpaw's tail curled up in delight at the thought. "That's great news!" If RiverClan's warrior ancestors weren't pinning the blame on the gentle black tom, that meant that their medicine cats could stop worrying so much. The air had been heavy in their camp for days now, with the ominous cloud looming even closer, darker after Cloudpatch's death the night before. They could use some good news,
"Yeah, but the problem is that in current memory, StarClan has always been about as clear as a mud puddle." Swiftsong replied, padding close to Scorchpaw and Berrypaw, heads close to keep their words between the three of them on their way to the Gathering. "In fact, the whole premise of the omen being a black stream - or at least related to one, from what Berrypaw and Marshpaw got from Minnowpaw, anyway - is about as clear as they could be." The sand-colored warrior's ears flattened to his head, and Scorchpaw noticed that his friend didn't seem to want to meet his eyes.
That being said, Berrypaw's eyes were filled with a cold fire, and she shot a fierce look at the older tom. "Don't say that, Swiftsong! Alderstripe's been wrong about an omen before, and he could be wrong again!"
Perhaps she said this a bit too loudly, because the gaggle of cats closest to them, Gingersplash, Brightfrost, Greyfeather, and Shellbounce, suddenly stopped talking, throwing quizzical looks back toward the apprentices and Swiftsong.
Scorchpaw felt his fur heat up with embarrassment when he noticed the older cats scrutinizing them, and he gave his chest a few awkward licks. This tense moment only lasted for a heartbeat, however, and the conversations continued in both groups. The grey tom offered his own opinion, his tone even more hushed than before. "I don't know what to think, honestly. Maybe Alderstripe's wrong? Can you really see Blackstream hurting anyone?"
He was about to add more to this point, perhaps that StarClan were wrong themselves, and this whole thing was kind of silly. Instead, he was interrupted by the chilly water of the lake lapping at his paws. This didn't surprise him - Ripplestar had already told him they'd be swimming to the Gathering - but when they made their way to the island in the center, Scorchpaw found himself incapable of speech.
A moonlit clearing sprawled before RiverClan, full to bursting with cats of so many different scents, the grey apprentice simply couldn't keep track. There was the clean, windswept smell of rabbits he had only scented faintly a few times before on border patrols to the moorland, then the heavier stench of bog and ShadowClan, and...some softer, heavier scent that he could only assume was ThunderClan. Scorchpaw stood stock still for a moment, stunned.
The spell was quickly broken, though, and he was jarred back to attention by Shellbounce, who had stopped beside him and his other friends. "Well, are you going to stand up here and stare at them all night, or are you going to come down and introduce yourself?"
- - -
Scorchpaw wouldn't ever describe himself as particularly shy, but something about this stifling number of cats all crammed into one area made him a tiny bit more meek than usual. He found himself shadowing Berrypaw and Swiftsong, muttering apologies and trying to keep track of his big paws. Shellbounce chose to follow them as well, occasionally throwing him what seemed like a reassuring look. She remained quiet, though, much to his confusion. The white she-cat frequently chattered like a jackdaw, so he found the silence pretty unnerving. "Alright, Scorchpaw, this is Rabbitpaw, from WindClan, Toadpaw and Stonepaw, from ShadowClan, and Owlpaw, from ThunderClan." Berrypaw introduced, nodding toward four cats that had come running up to the group when they'd entered the clearing. "Actually, I'm Owl swoop now, Berrypaw." Scorchpaw kind of figured that the dusty tabby's imperious tone was a tiny bit extra, and by the roll of Berrypaw's eyes, perhaps he wasn't the only one who thought this. However, Scorchpaw gave a congratulatory purr to the ThunderClan cat regardless. Maybe he was just excited about his new name? Naturally, the newly named Owlswoop and Swiftsong chatted for a bit, and the grey tom quickly found himself zoning out, because the two ShadowClan cats had started to talk amongst themselves, and Rabbitpaw gave the appearance of not wanting to talk in the first place. This quickly changed, however, when the white tom had sized him up. "You're awfully big for an apprentice, you know." Scorchpaw did know. That wasn't really his fault though, was it? Despite his denmates joking about him eating all the prey and getting fat, he knew he was just a pretty big cat. "You must be that stray kittypet that Darkbriar was telling us about - I can't believe Ripplestar actually took in a housecat." A wave of heat pulsed beneath the RiverClan apprentice's pelt, and he crouched slightly. Sensing the grey tom's reluctance, Rabbitpaw powered on. "You must be a big waste of fish if you're that big and still in training." The white tom sneered. Scorchpaw had been warned about this, but it didn't help. The WindClan apprentice's words still stung like claws, and the younger cat found himself scrambling and reaching for the logical explanation that he knew was there, but couldn't quite remember. It wasn't anything he hadn't faced before, but it was new nevertheless. RiverClan, at first, had been cold, distant, and unwilling to trust a cat from outside their sheltered clan. Of course, he still faced the odd kittypet joke or mean-spirited prank every now and then, but no one had particularly attacked him like this in a long time. Frantic, his eyes turned to his Clanmates. Swiftsong and Shellbounce sat on either side of him, and he found that their closeness soothed his nerves a hair. Maybe that's why their leader told him to stick close to his friends tonight? The old cat had seen this challenge coming from a mile away. But could Abelard answer the challenge? "Don't pick a fight, Scorchpaw. That's what he wants." Swiftsong's voice was barely audible to the younger tom, and it took a heartbeat to register. "You can't back down either, though. Show him how a RiverClan cat handles things." Maybe Abelard couldn't, but Scorchpaw could. That was who he was now. This thought bolstered his courage, and the grey apprentice rallied under the thought. "Yeah, I'm the kittypet." He lifted his chin, staring down the smaller cat. "But at least I'm not acting like a rogue, trying to pick a fight at a Gathering." Scorchpaw was thinking up a storm of more insulting things he could've said, particularly what Gingersplash said about rabbits and WindClan the other day, but he held back for now. Just a little. "Then again, scared little rabbits don't want to follow the code, do they? You want to repeat that, maybe the next time you actually bother to do a border patrol?" Rabbitpaw's lip curled, and his thin tail lashed at Scorchpaw's challenge. Maybe he was a noble cat at heart, after all? He gave the impression of being reluctant to continue this fight at the Gathering, and instead his grey eyes filled with defiance. "Maybe we can settle this on the border. Sending a soft bundle of down like you flying shouldn't be too hard, after all." Then a sneer entered his tone again. "Unless your fat belly gets in the way." Scorchpaw, however, was thankful that a call came from the huge tree at the far end of the clearing. He wasn't used to speaking to other cats like this, and it made him uncomfortable. Would he need to get over it? After all, this was hardly going to be his final encounter with Rabbitpaw, much less the last encounter with a cat who felt the need to get in his face. Maybe he could talk to Marshpaw about it later? For now, though, the apprentices and new warriors turned toward the sound, their eyes expectantly on their leaders. Scorchpaw saw Ripplestar, of course, as well as a huge red tom, a speckled silver she-cat, and a dark brown she-cat with oddly ruffled fur. None of them greeted one another as warmly as the other clan cats did, and the grey apprentice noticed that they all sat rather far apart. Scorchpaw could only guess at what had all of their hackles raised. x - - - x
x - - Chapters 17 and 18
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x - - Chapters 19 and 20
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x - - Chapters 21 and 22
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i love it (and also Alderstripe, i love Alderstripe)
