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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 2, 2017 17:19:55 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 2, 2017 17:20:17 GMT -5
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Hello! This is the thread where I'll be posting my one-shot entries for Tuesday's WFF Beach Bash Fic Clash competition! Even though I'm in the progress of writing fan fictions of my own, I've taken some time off to participate in the Fic Clash this year. I may or may not finish all the prompts; I guess it just depends on what I can come up with. They will be about ShoreClan, a Clan that was born and raised by the sea. The stories will be told from the point-of-view of many different cats, and won't necessarily be in chronological order, but I'll do my best to keep them understandable nonetheless. I hope you enjoy! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 2, 2017 17:20:30 GMT -5
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Duckpaw was crouched down where the shore met the sea, waiting for the sun to rise. He still wasn’t used to the feel of the sand on his paws, and it was all he could do not to shuffle them around every few minutes. The sound of the waves washing up onto the beach was oddly comforting, yet unfamiliar to his ears. After being there for three moons, the seaside hadn’t changed at all.
Duckpaw remembered the day he’d first seen the beach with a pang. His housefolk had brought him on a trip with them, and he’d been excited to finally be able to leave the den. He wanted to explore the outdoors. To see the world. And, that day, it had seemed the twolegs were granting his wish.
They had put him in a small, slightly cramped container for the ride, but that was okay. He knew he would be let out in a little while. The entire way there, the only thing he could feel was excitement. He would finally be able to see the world, not just through a window, but for real.
When the twolegs let Duckpaw out, he’d been on a small stretch of pale dirt—he hadn’t known then that it was sand—which ended at the beginning of the largest puddle Duckpaw had ever seen. They had called it the “ocean”. He’d dashed down the thick sand to see it, to feel it, to taste it. He’d wanted to know everything about it.
But, to his surprise, the water hadn’t been clear and sweet like the water he normally drank. It had been salty and revolting, and it had made his stomach lurch when he drank it. Not to mention the waves; they knocked him down and pushed him away as soon as he’d crashed into them.
It had seemed to Duckpaw that the ocean didn’t want him.
After a few more tries, Duckpaw had given up trying to run through the waves. They were much stronger than him. But as he’d turned to look back to his housefolk, wondering why they’d brought him to such an unforgiving place, he’d seen only empty air and footsteps in the sand in their place.
Duckpaw had searched the beach in a panic, wondering where they had gone. Had the waves swallowed them whole? He’d even checked where they’d left the monster they had ridden in on the way there, but it too was gone.
And even when Duckpaw waited for his housefolk to come back, they never did.
He’d been completely alone.
After days of waiting, Duckpaw had grown hungry. He knew that fish lived in the water; in fact, he’d seen a few in his time of fruitless waiting. So he’d tried to catch a few, but to no avail.
And that’s when Shorestar found him.
The new tom had asked him if he was looking for fish, and Duckpaw, startled he was being that obvious, had almost fallen into the water.
But Shorestar had been gentle. The tom had led him away from the beach, saying he was the leader of a “Clan” and that he could teach him how to hunt. Shorestar renamed him Duckpaw—his housefolk had given him the name Duck when he’d been born—and after that, Duckpaw had stayed with him ever since.
Now, Duckpaw was waiting for Shorestar to wake from his den in the nearby tall grass, and there was no hunting practice to keep his memories away.
Duckpaw jumped when Shorestar padded up behind him, startled. “You’re awake,” he mewed, glancing sideways at the pale ginger leader.
“And so are you,” Shorestar replied, his pale blue gaze staring across the water.
A few moments of silence passed between the toms, before, finally, Shorestar spoke again. “You miss them, don’t you?”
Duckpaw found himself startled again. Shorestar could always guess his emotions easily, even though Duckpaw didn’t know how. “Yeah…” he mewed. “Sometimes… I feel like a part of me died with them, when they left.” Duckpaw sighed, his gaze falling from the sea to his paws.
“Do you know, Duckpaw,” Shorestar began, his voice quiet and calm, “what makes starfish stronger than most other animals?”
Duckpaw shook his head, confused. How could those prickly, five-legged creatures be strong? “How?”
“Even when they lose a part of themselves, say, an arm, for example, they can still heal, and grow that arm back,” Shorestar meowed. “They’re strong, because even when they’re broken, they can find a way to put themselves back together again.”
Duckpaw thought about this for a moment. “Well, cats certainly can’t grow limbs back,” he mewed. “So, what’s the point?”
Shorestar turned to gaze at Duckpaw again. “You said you lost a part of yourself when your twolegs left you. Well, don’t let those twolegs loom over you for the rest of your life. Even though you’re broken, you can become whole again, just like a starfish. In the place of your twolegs, you can have a Clan instead. ShoreClan.”
Duckpaw felt realization spilling into his mind, making Shorestar’s words have sense. “Oh,” he mewed quietly. He turned to look back at where ShoreClan’s camp stood, hidden in the tall grass. “I guess— I guess you’re right.” He felt warmth spread into his body when he thought about his Clan, and how they could take the place of his housefolk who left him. They could be his family. He’d never really thought about it that way. But it made so much sense, and it comforted him. Just like they would comfort him, in the moons to come.
“I’ll try to be a starfish, Shorestar. I’ll try to be a starfish for ShoreClan.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Conchpaw had always been Sunnypaw’s greatest enemy. They had been born mere days apart, and it seemed from the moment they had opened their eyes they were bickering with each other. From which was the biggest piece of prey, to who could jump the highest, they could always find something to argue about. Even the smallest things could start a fight.
Over the past moons, Conchpaw and Sunnypaw had managed to persuade some of the other apprentices to join their sides. Sunnypaw got Pearlpaw and Clearpaw. Conchpaw got Eelpaw and Weedpaw. The others usually only cheered Conchpaw and Sunnypaw on, but occasionally they would participate in the debates.
But as long as Sunnypaw could remember, their arguments were never really serious.
Their mentors never even payed attention to their disagreements; they just thought they were acting like the immature apprentices they were and that one day their rivalries would be forgotten. Sunnypaw knew it was more complicated than that, but she also assumed that they would one day have to put their dislike aside and move on to their own lives.
It had never been anything more than dislike between them.
Sunnypaw thought it would never be anything more than dislike between them.
But, to her surprise, that changed when they were just one moon away from being old enough to become warriors.
It started one day when they were out hunting with their mentors. After Sunnypaw and Conchpaw’s race down to the water—which Conchpaw lost, and then proceeded to pout about it for the next five minutes—their mentors padded off to look for beached prey and told their apprentices to hunt in the shallows.
Sunnypaw was the first to dash into the waves, Conchpaw on her heels. Her golden fur turned dark as soon as the water hit it, and she began to search for any fish or small sea creatures that might be lurking in the shallows. Beside her, Conchpaw was doing the same. It seemed there was an unspoken contest between them to find the first prey.
When Sunnypaw found nothing but empty shells where she was searching, she went a little deeper. When, again, nothing, even deeper. Soon, her paws were hardly brushing the sand below as she held her head above the water. She realized it might be a bit hard for her to catch anything at this depth, but she hovered for a moment just in case.
Suddenly, a flicker of darkness caught her eye. Sunnypaw looked close, and she realized it was a large fish, big enough to feed three cats. Her mouth watered at the sight of it.
Without thinking, she dove beneath the surface to reach it. The salt water stung her eyes, but she pushed forward, and didn’t stop until she felt cold scales brush against her pelt. She latched her jaws around the fish, and fought against its panicked thrashing to get back to the shore. When she thought she might collapse with the effort and lack of air, she crashed onto dry land.
Exhausted, Sunnypaw didn’t notice the fish flopping away from her and back towards the water until it was tail-lengths away from her. She lurched toward it to try and stop it, but Conchpaw, who’d followed her onto the beach, was faster. He lunged toward the fish, slamming his paws down on it and making the killing bite.
Just then, their mentors reached them from scouring the shore. They’d only been successful in finding a mussel and a crab, and their eyes lit up when they saw the fish by Conchpaw’s paws.
Noticing them, Conchpaw called out to his mentor with a sly grin. “Hey, look at this fish I just caught!”
Fogfoot, Conchpaw’s mentor, looked rather proud and surprised with his apprentice. “Nice catch, Conchpaw! Did you do that all on your own?”
“Yep!” Conchpaw replied, puffing out his chest.
“Let’s head back to camp,” Fogfoot meowed. “Wait ‘till they see that fish!”
As Conchpaw and the others padded away, Sunnypaw’s mentor, Sandwhisker, called out, “Come along, Sunnypaw.”
Sunnypaw stumbled to her paws, only just then realizing what had happened. He-he lied! she thought, fuming. I caught that fish! I did! Me! She couldn’t believe Conchpaw had taken the credit for her catch. It was completely stepping out of the line. Not anything close to their meaningless arguments. It was— It was—
Sunnypaw found that her thoughts were becoming all scrambled up with anger as she walked back to camp, dripping wet. Hot, thick anger. It boiled and frothed in her stomach. It felt like… sea foam, Sunnypaw decided. Thick, bubbling sea foam heated up on a green-leaf day. It clouded her thoughts until she didn’t think she would be able to concentrate on anything ever again.
Yet, she didn’t try to shake it off. She didn’t want to forget the terrible crime Conchpaw had committed. She didn’t want it to be another one of their childish squabbles.
And she didn’t forget. Days past, and the anger only grew worse. She couldn’t hunt. She couldn’t listen to her mentor. She could only think about how much she wanted vengeance.
She finally went to stand up to Conchpaw on another hot, humid afternoon. He was chatting with Eelpaw and Weedpaw at the edge of camp, and she stormed over to them, her pelt bristling.
When she reached them, Conchpaw looked over his shoulder and smirked. “Woah, what’s the matter, Sunnypaw? You look like a fluffy yellow cloud.”
Eelpaw and Weedpaw snickered in unison, and Sunnypaw tried to smooth her fur down a little so she wouldn’t look like a “fluffy yellow cloud”. She cleared her throat. “Conchpaw, I have something to say to you,” she growled, her voice trembling.
“Spit it out, sweetheart,” Conchpaw mewed nonchalantly, and Sunnypaw felt the sea foam inside her growing restless as she stared into his yellow eyes. How could he be so rude?
“We both know you didn’t catch that fish the other day,” she hissed, her anger adding an extra edge to her voice.
“Um, yeah I did,” Conchpaw protested. “You lost it; it was flopping around on the beach; I caught it; its mine.” His defensive glare suggested that he genuinely believed what he was saying, and Sunnypaw felt her voice rising to a yowl.
“I was the one who fished it out of the StarClan forsaken ocean in the first place!”
Conchpaw shook his head slowly, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. “Sorry, hon, you know the rules. Finders keepers. And losers weepers.”
Sunnypaw hissed a little too loudly. “Shut up, squid-heart!” she yowled. Out of the corner of her amber eyes, she could see that her Clanmates were turning to stare at their… very loud… fight.
But what Conchpaw said next was really what finished it for Sunnypaw. “It’s not my fault you’re such a terrible hunter!”
Sunnypaw reared up, her claws unsheathed and ready to tear into her rival’s flesh. There was no stopping her now. The fear in Conchpaw’s eyes only fueled her anger, which was now heated to a scathing, violent rage. Conchpaw wouldn’t bother her any longer when she was finished with him. He would finally have to pay.
But before she could strike, Sunnypaw saw a flash of white fur step between her and Conchpaw, blocking her way.
“Woah, woah, woah!” Fogfoot meowed, his stern gaze fixed on the apprentices. “A single fish is not worth fighting for! Do you really want to weaken ShoreClan by fighting within?” He pushed Sunnypaw away from Conchpaw, and she felt the boiling sea foam inside her cooling down into shame.
“Now, I admit, stealing Sunnypaw’s catch was not an honorable thing to do, Conchpaw.” Fogfoot glared at the brownish gray tabby tom. “So, say sorry.”
Conchpaw looked Ike he wanted to protest, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry, Sunnypaw,” he spat.
“For?” Fogfoot pressed on.
“For… stealing your fish.”
“Good. Now, Sunnypaw, it’s only fair if you say sorry too,” Fogfoot mewed.
Sunnypaw sighed. “I’m sorry for yelling at you and almost hurting you,” she meowed. “And I won’t do it again.”
Fogfoot nodded, pleased. “Good, good. Now, do you two forgive each other?”
Sunnypaw and Conchpaw exchanged a glare, but they knew they couldn’t protest.
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
Fogfoot grinned. “And don’t you dare let me catch this happening again, or we’ll have to have a talk with the leader.”
Conchpaw and Sunnypaw nodded, and Fogfoot turned to pad away. Sunnypaw found herself turning to look at Conchpaw, and, to her great surprise, she realized that he actually was sorry. Maybe he wasn’t the cat she thought he was. Maybe… maybe he didn’t really hate her. And maybe they could just get over their differences and do their own thing.
Sunnypaw’s gaze softened without her realizing it. The once boiling “sea foam” anger in her belly lost its heat, and soon faded away for good.
Just like the sea foam, Sunnypaw’s anger had grown past her control.
And just like the sea foam, Sunnypaw’s anger eventually dwindled and dissolved away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Rain hadn’t been born blind.
She’d been born just like any other kit. Completely normal. Not a flaw in her little body.
She’d grown up with a group of other cats that lived in the forest. Their numbers were fairly large, usually having fifteen to twenty cats in their ranks. But they didn’t have a name; they just called themselves “the group”.
They’d taught Rain that they were the only worthy cats in the forest to even be a group, that’s why they didn’t need a name. They were superior to the others. In every way.
Rain had believed this was true all her life. How could anything be different? The group seemed so sure of themselves; how could they be wrong?
But no matter how important or strong the group was, they couldn’t prevent or even predict what happened to Rain in the third summer of her life.
It started one morning when Rain woke up. Her vision seemed a bit blurry, and she blinked her eyes a few times to try to clear them. The fuzziness didn’t go away. She tilted her silver head in confusion. Her sight was usually quite strong; why was it acting up now?
“Rain! You coming?” her brother’s voice broke into her thoughts.
Rain pushed her concern away. She could still see okay, just not as well as before. Her sight would probably get better soon enough, and even if it didn’t, she would get used to it. “Yeah!” she called to her brother, pushing out her den to meet him.
But it didn’t get better. That morning was only the beginning.
Gradually, Rain noticed that her sight was getting worse by the day. Little by little, she could see less and less of her surroundings. And as her eyes grew worse, her panic got stronger. What if she lost the ability to hunt? Or could no longer see where she was going?
Rain tried to hide the fact that it was becoming difficult for her to see, to her brother, to her parents, to the group. She didn’t want them to think that she was weak. Who knew what would happen then? What would they do?
But with each coming day, it got harder and harder for her to hide it. Her world was being reduced to mere colors and shapes, and Rain knew she was bound to bump into something eventually. She couldn’t really rely on her eyes anymore.
What do I do? she wondered. Am I going blind?
The day when she was discovered came earlier than she would’ve liked. Her brother wanted to take her out hunting, and she knew she couldn’t avoid it. Yet, she wouldn’t be able to catch anything like this.
Rain followed her littermate into what she knew was the forest, although everything just looked like fuzzy green blobs. She opened her mouth to scent for prey, half expecting her sense of smell to be just as bad as her eyes, but she could smell the air just fine, fortunately. Maybe she could catch something by scent and touch alone.
But when she went after the trail of a mouse, dropped into a crouch, and crept over to what she thought was a bush, she began having doubts. Still, she pushed them away, and leapt for her prey. Her descent was met by many sharp pricks in her pelt, and she gave a cry of pain when she crashed into the thorn bush.
“Rain! Are you okay?” her brother asked, sounding alarmed. She groaned in response.
Rain felt Stone tugging her out of the bush, and she let him, falling limp. She’d failed. Everyone would know about her eyes now.
“What, happened?” she heard her brother ask. “You’re usually such a great hunter, and— Woah, your eyes! Are you— is that what I think it is?” When Rain didn’t answer, he pressed on, “Rain, are you going blind?”
Rain laughed. A shrill, hysterical laugh that sounded nothing like herself. “Ha ha ha! What makes you think that? How could I possibly be going blind?”
“Rain, your eyes are all clouded and weird looking. How can you even see out of those?”
Rain sighed, defeated. She knew lying wouldn’t help. The group would find out sooner or later, and she didn’t want to be punished for trying to hide. “I don’t know,” she replied solemnly.
“Let’s get you back to camp,” Stone mewed to her.
After that, Rain walked into a camp full of cats she knew were staring at her. She couldn’t handle the pressure of dozens of working eyes judging her two blue ones that didn’t work. She wanted to run away from it all. She didn’t want to be a failure anymore.
That night, she slipped out. She knew she would probably be banished either way. She was useless. Why would the group even want her?
All she could do then was run. Run, run, and run some more. Run until her paws bled, and then keep running. Just run for days, to get as far away as she could and never go back, all the while ashamed of the eyes that had failed her.
Rain didn’t stop until her paws hit a soft substance she recognized as sand. It felt just like the sandy place by her camp, and for a moment she wondered if she was home. But that wasn’t possible. Even if she could see anything—her vision was now reduced to mere flashes of light here and there—she knew she wouldn’t see her home.
She kept going, assuming the patch of sand would end soon. But it didn’t. She felt her paws splashing into cold, wet water, and she leapt back. Where am I? she wondered, her pelt bristling.
But the water was moving beneath her paws. It was tugging at her, like it had a mind of its own. The waves were knocking at her legs, and dragging her away from the sand. No! she thought, struggling back.
It was no use. The water was pulling her down beneath its surface, dragging her deeper by the second. She didn’t know what to do.
Then, suddenly, her thrashing paws hit sand. Down, below the water. It hadn’t ended. It kept going, despite the waves.
Thinking quickly, Rain managed to feel the bottom with her paws while holding in as much air as she could. Behind her, the sand sloped downward, away from the air. In front, it went up, up, up to freedom.
With all the strength she had left, Rain pushed herself forward, toward the air. Before she knew it, her head popped out of the water, then her back, then her legs, then her paws. She was free.
Rain lay panting on the sand, the sand that had saved her. The sand that kept going, through the water and onward. Suddenly, she had different thoughts about the sand.
For the next few days, Rain stayed by the sand, but away from the water. She worked to train herself to use her paws to see, not her eyes. The sand helped her. Unlike the water, it moved with her paws, guided her along.
Soon, she tried hunting again. On her way there and away from the group, when she’d been walking aimlessly, she’d eaten whatever she could find. Half of the time, she didn’t even know if it was food. But she’d survived. And now, with the sand’s help, she was ready to be herself again.
It started with a leaf, then a beetle, then a moth, then a mouse. Using her smell and her taste and her touch, she could hunt again.
Rain started to wander along the water’s edge, exploring more sand and leaving marks for herself. Her sight was now completely gone, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t need her eyes. She had her paws. And the sand.
She found her way into a bed of tall grass one day, and was delighted to find that mice were plentiful there. She thought she might just make a new den there, and enjoy the prey. After all, there was still sand underfoot. There was just grass too.
But as she sat, eating her first grass-caught mouse, she heard a rustling behind her. Her pelt rose as she smelled another cat, and she realized that, even though she could hunt, she couldn’t fight. She gulped.
“Hello there,” a tom’s voice mewed.
Rain fought to keep calm, and replied slowly, "...I can't give you anything, if you're here to threaten me."
"I'm not here to threaten you," she heard him mew, then add after a pause, "Did you catch that mouse?"
"Y-Yeah... What of it?" Rain asked, pulling her mouse closer to her. She sure hoped the tom wasn’t going to try and steal it from her.
“You must be a good hunter,” the voice said.
Why, because I’m blind? Rain thought, but said instead, "Th...Thank you, I guess..."
"You could be a good addition to my Clan, if you decided to go."
Clan? Wait, like another group? Rain thought, uncertain. She didn’t want to join another group like hers ever again.
"...Is your clan safe?" she asked. "I don't want to join another group that trades kits for prey."
"Yes, it's safe," the tom mewed. "And we don't trade our kits, we raise them."
“If I see anything I don't like, I'm leaving,” Rain mewed shortly, then rose to her paws. “I’ll join your Clan.”
Rain had been true to her word. On the way back to the Clan’s camp, she learned that the tom’s name was Shorestar, and that his Clan sounded nothing like her group. Shorestar never said anything about being “superior”. And he never said anything against being blind.
When they reached camp, Shorestar introduced her to all the cats there. And she let him change her name to Raindapple, so she would fit in better. She never found anything she didn’t like about ShoreClan. It was everything she could have hoped for. The opposite of her former group.
And the best part was, her paws never had to leave the sand.
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Marshtail and Palmflower were the best of friends. They’d met on the first day of their apprenticeship, and since then had been inseparable. In a way, they were opposites. Marshtail was curious and bold; she loved being involved and was always the first to leap into action. Palmflower, however, was quite delicate. She was usually very subdued and soft-spoken, and hated getting her paws dirty. Marshtail often had to drag her into things just to have a bit of fun with her. But they cared for each other all the same.
All throughout their apprenticeship, Palmflower never changed. She’d always been the one apprentice who didn’t want to cause trouble just for the fun of it, and, Marshtail had to admit, wasn’t very good at fighting. She’d always complain about getting fur stuck in her claws or getting her pelt scarred, but at least she could defend herself. She didn’t even like the sand very much, but, fortunately for her, her ginger fur was relatively short, so it wasn’t hard to clean.
That was the Palmflower Marshtail knew and loved. The Palmflower who preferred to stay in camp. The Palmflower who’d always ask which flower complemented her fur best. The Palmflower who never had much interest in toms.
Marshtail never wanted Palmflower to change. But she didn’t have much of a choice when she did. There was nothing Marshtail could do about it; it seemed to have happened overnight.
But whatever it was, Palmflower was never the same again.
It must’ve had something to do with the warrior ceremony, Marshtail had thought. Why else would it have happened? What could cause Palmflower to just—change?
Marshtail would never know.
It happened the morning after the ceremony. Palmflower had seemed different already—just by the way she held her shoulders. They were no longer in a dignified, queenly posture, but in a thoughtless slouch. Why was Palmflower slouching? Marshtail had never seen Palmflower slouch.
After that, Palmflower acted as if Marshtail wasn’t her best friend, but a cat that was just somewhat enjoyable to be around. She hadn’t seemed to care about her anymore. She’d seemed so indifferent.
And she hardly made an effort to be with Marshtail. Instead, she began throwing herself at the nearest toms in the Clan, something that was so unlike her character. She’d acted like her life depended on having a tom to cling to. She’d seemed a little desperate, even. And Marshtail had the slightest idea why.
Palmflower’s relationship with each tom didn’t last very long, though. Soon enough, Palmflower would find something she didn’t quite like about him, or he would decide he didn’t want a she-cat who depended on him so heavily, so Palmflower would jump off to the next one in line.
Marshtail quickly made the connection to Palmflower’s little act with the waves. How they would first rush onto the shore, then hurry back out as quickly as they had come, then again and again and again. How they could never decide if they wanted to stay with the sand or the sea. Just like Palmflower, who could never decide which tom would be hers.
Frankly, Marshtail didn’t think any of them could be good for her anyway.
She couldn’t see how any tom would want a clingy she-cat tagging around them all the time. Because when Palmflower chose a tom, she followed them everywhere. She went with them on all their patrols, whenever they hunted, wherever they went. Marshtail remembered with a pang that that was what they used to be like, when they were apprentices.
She sure could feel like a barnacle sometimes, Marshtail thought to herself, chuckling sadly.
Marshtail also felt like Palmflower had become more… annoying lately. She would gripe and complain when her relationships didn’t go her way—which was quite often, honestly. She would drag her paws when the deputy forced her to go on a patrol without her tom, often bringing back meager to no prey. Marshtail thought the deputy had probably learned by now to just send her with her tom, and things would be fine.
But they weren’t.
Marshtail found herself missing the old Palmflower more with each passing day, watching from the sidelines as her friend’s chaotic new life dragged on. She wanted the real Palmflower back. She didn’t want some careless, clingy, pathetic excuse for a she-cat.
Eventually, Marshtail found she couldn’t sit around and watch anymore, she had to do something.
She had to cause a disturbance in the waves.
However much Marshtail wanted to just yell and scream and shout, she knew she had to take it slowly. She had to force herself not to yowl at her friend “You don’t need them! You have me!” but go at it carefully. She didn’t want to lose Palmflower for good.
She tried convincing Palmflower to leave the tom she was currently with, but she was unsuccessful. Palmflower only shook her off and ignored her, turning her green gaze to the cat by her side.
Marshtail knew she had to go for a different approach.
She tried telling Palmflower that none of the toms of ShoreClan were good for her—or rather, she wasn’t good for any of them—but that too didn’t make Palmflower twitch an ear. Marshtail was beginning to feel desperate, yearning greatly for the friend who only needed her.
Why, why, why are you doing this, Palmflower? Marshtail thought. Please, just come back to me!
Marshtail tried reaching Palmflower one more time. She went for her on one of her good days—a day she was looking more cheerful than usual as she joked around with a tom named Covewhisper. Undoubtedly, Covewhisper was her next attempt at finding a keeper.
“Oh my StarClan, Covewhisper, that is so funny,” Marshtail heard Palmflower meow as she slowly padded up to the two, her fur rising slightly in apprehension. “Want to hear my joke?”
Marshtail saw Covewhisper nod his head in agreement, although she noticed he looked a bit uncomfortable.
She held her breath for a moment, then broke into their conversation. “Palmflower, can I speak with you for a moment?”
Palmflower whipped her head around to glare at Marshtail. “Again?” she hissed, then looked over to Covewhisper. She gave a nervous laugh. “Uh… I’ll be right back, handsome,” she told him, grinning widely. Marshtail couldn’t help but notice as the pale gray tom shuddered.
Palmflower jumped up from her spot on the sand and padded over to Marshtail, bending her head forward so Covewhisper wouldn’t hear. “What do you want now? You just ruined the punch line of my favorite joke!” she hissed quietly.
Marshtail gazed at her friend calmly, betraying no emotion in her amber eyes. “I’ve come to ask you this one last time. Why are you doing this?”
Palmflower didn’t seem to understand the question. “What do you mean, ‘doing this’? This is just who I am! And if this is about Covewhisper, then I don't care what you’re going to say! I love Covewhisper and he loves me! We're going to be mates forever and have thirteen adorably fluffy kits!”
Marshtail knew painfully well that wasn’t true. “This is not who you are. What happened to the Palmflower I knew when we were apprentices? The Palmflower who wasn’t ever disrespectful. The Palmflower who always wanted to keep her fur clean. The Palmflower who could never let her friends down.”
Palmflower’s eyes narrowed. “That Palmflower grew up!” she growled, showing her dangerously sharp teeth.
“Well, I haven’t given up on her,” Marshtail said. “I know she’s still in there, somewhere, waiting to come out. And I know that Palmflower would never waste her time with toms when she could spend it with her best friend.”
Palmflower’s snarl quieted. She stared at Marshtail, listening.
“She should know that she’s still welcome. And that none of ShoreClan wanted her to go.” Marshtail paused for a moment as pain flashed in her eyes. “I never wanted her to go.” She sighed. “Could you please find that Palmflower for me and tell her that?”
Palmflower’s eyes were wide. Not a word came out of her mouth. But she stiffened as they both heard a mew sound behind them, saying “Palmflower…? Are you coming back?”
Palmflower turned her head for a moment to reply. “Yes, Covewhisper. I’m coming.” She looked back at where Marshtail stood in front of her, waiting. “Um… Yeah. But I can’t promise I’ll find her.”
Marshtail smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” She watched as Palmflower turned to pad back to Covewhisper, hope filling her chest.
Palmflower might not have made a definite decision, but Marshtail knew she’d aroused a ripple of doubt in her mind.
And, of course, ripples could always grow big enough to stop a wave, right?
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Stormsight was sitting on the sands of ShoreClan, watching clouds gather on the horizon. The rhythmic sound of the waves washing onto the shore and the smell of the salt on the breeze soothed him, but he wasn’t sitting out there, alone, to see the ocean. He saw the ocean every day. It was nothing special to him. No, he was there to see the storm.
Storms were rare near ShoreClan; it was almost always hot and sunny, and it never snowed. Storms were things Stormsight only saw when he was lucky. Whereas, he could walk out of camp and see the ocean whenever he wanted.
Now, he knew a storm was on its way. He was one of those cats who just knew when a storm was about to come; by the type of clouds in the sky, by the temperature of the breeze, by the thickness of the air. This was one of those times he knew that a storm was preparing to strike.
When he knew a storm would come, Stormsight would usually go down to the beach to see the rain fall. If the storm was a bit rowdier than usual, he would go up higher on the shore, safe from the thrashing waves. And if there was lightning, he would take cover in camp, knowing it just wasn’t safe out in the open.
There was just something about storms that Stormsight found fascinating. Maybe it was the way the breeze blew the falling rain around to make it almost look like an ocean current. Maybe it was the perfect precision of the lightning striking down from the sky to the sea in its jagged pattern. Maybe it was the clouds; swirling and flashing like a tabby’s fur. Well, Stormsight loved it all.
He shuffled his paws in the sand as he waited for the storm to come. He knew it was still far away, but he couldn’t wait for it to come. He wanted to see the rain and hear the thunder again.
After a little while longer of waiting, Stormsight noticed that the waves were becoming restless, foaming and sloshing as the storm grew nearer. Stormsight thought with a grin that they looked like they were eager for the storm to come too. But as another thought struck his mind, his smile faded. The waves never got this large this quickly. The coming storm might just be the biggest one yet that he would see.
For the first time ever, worry about the storm began to stir inside Stormsight’s belly. The ShoreClan camp was high enough on the shore and far enough away from the water that the waves never reached it, but would they now? He certainly didn’t want his home to become flooded.
He waited a bit longer, wondering if he should warn the leader about the storm. The waves were getting quite big now, and he had to back up to the grass to avoid being splashed. He heard a crack of thunder in the distance. The clouds above looked angry and dark, covering up most of the sky. The air felt thick around him, and he knew the rain was about to break loose.
When it did, there was an instant change in Stormsight’s surroundings. The waves grew even larger, crashing about as the wind buffeted them to and fro. Droplets of rain soaked his pelt, heavy and thick. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay out and watch this storm. He didn’t even know if the camp would end up submerged before long.
But the rate of the water rising quickly toward him made him decide he couldn’t risk it.
Stormsight turned tail and sprinted back to camp, the rain attempting to slow him down. He broke through the grassy wall with a crash, his eyes wild and his fur spiked with rain. “Everyone needs to get out of here!” he yowled to the Clan at the top of his voice. “Get out of here right now!”
Heads were turning to stare at him, squinting through the rain. He watched as the leader pushed through the crowd towards him, looking worried.
“Is it bad?” Lagoonstar asked, her fur bristling.
Stormsight nodded, out of breath. “I’m worried the camp might flood.”
Lagoonstar’s eyes widened. “You heard him!” she yowled to her Clan. “Every cat needs to evacuate the camp at once! Don’t lose sight of your young ones! Head to higher ground!”
The cats of ShoreClan began to scramble towards the camp entrance once they heard their leader’s instructions. Queens grabbed the scruffs of wailing kits as they tried to evacuate. Families and friends clumped together in groups as they made their way out.
Stormsight looked around to see if there was anything he could help with, when he heard the sound of the waves splashing dangerously close to the camp. He darted out of camp and ahead of everyone else to see if what he heard was true, and, sure enough, the waves had risen very quickly since he’d left the beach.
“Go, go, go!” Stormsight called to the fleeing cats. “Hurry!”
Stormsight was relieved to see that most of the Clan had cleared from the camp and were heading away from the shore when the waves began seeping through the walls. Only a few more cats were darting out of the clearing, including a warrior who was helping an elder ease her way along. Stormsight darted toward them to try and help the elder go a little faster, letting the old cat lean onto his side as they padded through the entrance.
When they were safely clear, Stormsight turned back to see if anyone was left. He let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see any cats. The camp was beginning to flood now, the water dark and foaming against the pale sand.
But a shrill wail that pierced the loud noise of the storm made the fur lift along Stormsight’s spine. “My kit! Somebody help my kit! He’s still in there!”
Stormsight’s gaze locked onto a small scrap of dark gray fur that was clinging to the top of the rock that was the leader’s den. His green eyes lit up with horror. He hadn’t seen the kit before; it had blended in with the rock. Without hesitating—because Stormsight knew if he hesitated, the kit would probably drown—he dove into the water, propelling himself forward with powerful strokes.
The kit had begun to wail in terror, the water swirling darkly below it. Stormsight pulled himself onto the rock, grabbed the kit’s scruff between his teeth, and dropped back into the water again.
This time, Stormsight had to fight to keep his head above the water instead of just holding his breath, because he knew the kit wouldn’t be able to do the same. The extra weight of the struggling kit, the unforgiving waters, and the strange position he was in all made it more difficult for Stormsight to swim. At times, he thought he might drop the kit into the water, and in others, he didn’t even know if he would make it himself. But he kept pushing.
Eventually, after what felt like moons of pushing against the water and struggling to keep the kit above the arching waves, Stormsight finally felt sand under his paws again, relief swamping through his pelt. He climbed out of the water, darting away from the camp to where he saw the Clan huddled near a clump of bristly bushes, far from the water. He knew they would be safe there.
When he reached them, a white queen pushed forward from the crowd. “Thank you! Oh, thank you, Stormsight! You saved Splashkit! Oh, I was so worried!”
Stormsight bent down to put who he now knew as Splashkit on the ground, the little kit soaked from head to tail, but alive. His mother brought him closer to her and began lapping the shocked kit dry, trembling with relief.
Stormsight turned as he saw Lagoonstar pad up to him. “Thank you, Stormsight. Without you, the Clan might not have escaped the camp in time.”
Stormsight ducked his head. “Oh, it was nothing. It’s just my duty to help my Clan.”
Lagoonstar smiled. “And we’re all very grateful.” She turned to gaze at where the camp stood, now almost submerged in water. But Stormsight was grateful to see that the waves had slowed down a bit. “Although, I don’t know how long it’ll take to rebuild,” Lagoonstar added with a sigh.
“Not long if we all work together,” Stormsight mewed, his gaze fixed on the large, dark clouds above.
“Agreed,” Lagoonstar meowed, standing tall despite the rain.
And together, they waited for the storm to pass.
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For as long as he could remember, Grassheart’s life had always been more chaotic than he could handle.
First off, he’d been born into a family of four kits with a mother who hadn’t had any help from the father to raise them. So, his mother had to work hard, alone, to try and keep her kits from going crazy with excess energy and boredom. It hadn’t been an easy job.
Second, he’d been the youngest in that group of four kits. Which meant he was always the one to get picked on. The play toy of the group. And his mother already had enough on her paws to try to keep one of her kits from being teased.
Third, he was probably the worst hunter out of his littermates. Throughout their apprenticeship, he’d had to work hard to catch his days’ worth of prey, unlike them.
Putting his kithood aside, Grassheart often felt like he didn’t fit in with the Clan. No one seemed to like him very much, or even noticed he was there. He was just a face in the crowd, another mouth to feed. He never felt very special.
Now, Brightlily was a special cat. Since they were apprentices, Grassheart had taken a liking to the she-cat, for many reasons involved. She was kind, had a quick sense of humor, was a great hunter, and she was beautiful, oh so beautiful. Brightlily was easily liked in the Clan. Unlike him.
Grassheart found that whenever she padded by, his pelt would begin to feel hot and uncomfortable. His heart would speed up, and his thoughts would cloud. By instinct, he would smile and wave to her, hoping she would show an interest back. She’d return his wave, smiling politely. Grassheart’s heart would beat even faster, although he’d know she was just being the kind cat she was. She probably didn’t even know his name.
She certainly didn’t know how he felt about her.
He didn’t want to feel this way. How could he even think about having a mate at a time like this? He had to focus on hunting and training further for his Clan. He had to become as good as his littermates were. He couldn’t drop behind, or StarClan knew what would happen. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, that was for sure. He’d let his Clan down. He couldn’t drag Brightlily into his crazy life.
So Grassheart tried to suppress his feelings.
But as the days dragged on, he realized that it was impossible. He couldn’t stop looking her way, admiring her ginger-and-white fur, watching her blue eyes light up at a joke.
He couldn’t forget her, no matter how hard he tried.
And soon, he realized she was the only real thing in his life. His quest for glory, his fight for skill, his endless hours of training, they meant nothing compared to her. In his chaotic, shadowed night of struggle, she was like a star, shining above and showing him the way. She was the one thing that kept him holding on for this long.
She was everything. It had taken him too long to realize.
She was like… those things twolegs rode on to float over the deep water and avoid the dangerous waves. What were they called?
Boats, he remembered. Ships. Designed to keep them safe, afloat, even when the waters were at their fiercest.
Brightlily was like his ship, keeping him from drowning in an endless ocean of chaos. His star. His light guiding the way.
He just had to let her realize that, somehow.
How was the real question. He couldn’t just walk up to her and tell her that she was his ship, his star, his light. He’d probably scare her away by doing that.
He wished he could just say it loud and clear. To tell her, “I love you.” It was just three words. How hard could it be?
But he knew he couldn’t. It was much too complicated for that. She barely even knew him. What would she say?
And… what if she didn’t feel the same way? Grassheart couldn’t afford to think that way. If he lost her… his everything… he’d have nothing. And his life would go right back to where it was before. Chaotic, painful, an endless struggle, always drowning.
He’d just have to tell her. Before it was too late. Before the light faded away.
So, when he was assigned to go on a patrol with her the next day, he knew what to do. He’d recited the words all night long. Until he couldn’t stay awake any longer. Now, he was ready.
Being the great hunter she was, Brightlily had gone away from the rest of the patrol to bring a gull down from the sky. He waited for her to finish her catch, then padded up to her when she stood up again. Her beautiful eyes met his, and he found himself never wanting to look away again.
“Brightlily, can I talk to you?” Grassheart asked her, forcing down nerves.
“Sure,” Brightlily mewed through her prey, smiling kindly at him.
Now was his chance. Now was his time to make his life have meaning. To find the light he’d been waiting for. To board his ship.
And he wasn’t going to miss that chance this time.
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“You’re such a loser!”
Paws slammed into Deeppaw’s back, and he tripped and fell into the tide pool with a splash. He could hear the sound of laughter coming from above the water as he struggled to resurface.
Deeppaw had gone to where the ShoreClan sand turned to rocks in hopes of finding some prey, but he’d been followed by Palepaw and her gang. The she-cat had been picking on him nearly their entire apprenticeship, always pointing out his flaws and beating him up in some way. He’d hoped, today, she’d leave him alone for once, but, yet again, he’d been wrong. At this rate, he’d have more scars on his pelt than the amount of prey he’d ever caught.
His head and shoulders rose out of the water, sputtering as he coughed salt water out of his throat. Palepaw was watching on, gloating as she always did when she made a fool out of him. Her friends snickered behind her, apparently thinking that watching a smaller apprentice fall into the water was amusing.
“Wow, Deeppaw, looks like you can’t even catch a barnacle right without falling into the water!” Palepaw jeered, the cats behind her laughing even harder at her joke.
Deeppaw spat the rest of the water out of his mouth, glaring at Palepaw. “Just leave me alone, Palepaw!”
The other apprentices oohed with delight and looked to Palepaw to see if she would defend herself.
Palepaw leaned in closer to the tide pool, her eyes narrowed in anger. “Never!” she hissed, her claws unsheathed against the rock.
Deeppaw knew what would happen next. Palepaw would swipe at him, steal whatever prey he might have caught, and strut back to camp, her head high and her spectators cheering. It would be yet another win on her side, and a loss on his. He was used to it by now. It had always been that way, and as far as he knew, it always would be. Palepaw would never just leave him alone. She would always be there to beat him up, to boss him around. He wasn’t strong enough to make it change.
The next day, Palepaw was back for more. Deeppaw had kept away from the rocky place, remembering the sharp bottom of the tide pool with a shudder. He didn’t want to be pushed in there again. Besides, the tide was high, so the rocks would be mostly covered anyway.
Instead, he was padding along the beach, waiting for his mentor to come back from hunting in the deep water. He’d told Deeppaw that he wasn’t ready to hunt there yet, and to stay by the shore. Deeppaw knew only too well why. Every cat knew he was a terrible hunter, and not the best swimmer either. And Palepaw was there to remind him that constantly.
Now, he heard her and a few others padding up behind him, and it was no surprise when she started throwing insults at his face.
“Where’s your good old mentor, Deeppaw?” she asked, smirking as usual. “Off in the great big ocean?” She glanced to where Deeppaw’s mentor was bobbing along in the distance. “He didn’t leave you behind again, did he?” she added with a fake gasp of surprise. Deeppaw heard the familiar snickers sound behind her.
“He didn’t leave me,” Deeppaw argued. “He just told me to hunt by the shore. He knows I’m better at it here.”
“How could you possibly be good out here, in the sand?” Palepaw asked, sweeping her tail behind her. “Your dark fur stands out against it like a cloud in the sky. I, however, am perfectly adapted to hunting here. Even my pelt agrees.”
Deeppaw’s tail lowered, his confidence draining out of him like smoke. He knew he shouldn’t be letting what Palepaw said get to him, but she was right. His black fur made hunting on the sand quite difficult. There was no cover there, so he stood out obnoxiously dark against the shore. He was basically a warning sign to all prey nearby: ‘Watch out! Clumsy apprentice hunting nearby!’
Palepaw, however, had a light sand colored pelt that blended in perfectly with the shore. Sometimes, he couldn’t even spot her moving over the sand; it was no question how good a hunter she was. Sure, some of the prey she brought back to camp was what she’d stolen from him, but still. There was no competition. Palepaw obviously had the more desirable pelt color and hunting skills. And now she was rubbing it in his face.
Palepaw seemed to have noticed his face fall, and her green eyes lit up with delight and malice. “Ha! See? You know I’m right! You’ll always be the worst hunter in the Clan. I bet even the kits would be better than you!”
Deeppaw didn’t understand why Palepaw had suddenly taken the insults to an extreme. Maybe she wanted to deal with him for good. Maybe she was trying to turn the other apprentices against him. His ears flattened against his skull and his breath quickened.
“You’re a failure, Deeppaw! It’s time you faced the truth!”
Deeppaw didn’t want to listen to her anymore. He knew he would look weak if he ran off, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stand around and let Palepaw see how much she was hurting him. He had to get away from her.
He turned tail and ran away from the shore, his paws churning up the sand and his eyes welling up with pain. He could hear the laughter growing quieter behind him with each step as he crashed into the tall grass that surrounded the camp.
. . .
The disapproving look his mentor gave him when he padded back from his hunt convinced Deeppaw that Palepaw’s cruelty had to come to an end. He thought hard about what to do that night, and the next day, he headed out to the rocks at low tide, making sure Palepaw saw where he was going.
Instead of trying to hunt, Deeppaw sat down and waited beside the very same place Palepaw had pushed him into the water the other day, at the exact same tide pool. And, sure enough, he spotted Palepaw and the others padding his way before long. He noticed that she’d brought more apprentices with her than usual, and he wondered what she had planned for him. He’d be ready for her, though.
“Well, well, well,” Palepaw huffed when she drew near, looking angrier than usual for some reason. “If it isn’t ShoreClan’s worst apprentice.” Deeppaw saw that the other apprentices didn’t look as excited for entertainment as they usually did, and were just giving him cold stares.
“I’m surprised you came, Palepaw, after what happened yesterday.” Deeppaw met her gaze calmly.
“You mean how you ran off like a little scaredy-mouse?” Palepaw countered, smirking. Then Deeppaw saw her stiffen when her comeback wasn’t met with the usual laughs and cheers from the others. It looked like it was just him and her this time.
His dark eyes narrowed slightly. “You know what I’ve noticed, Palepaw?” he asked her. “Here at the rocks, your fur doesn’t blend in nicely anymore. Here, it’s my pelt that blends in better. You’re the one who stands out like a cloud in the sky.”
Palepaw’s eyes widened as she realized what he was saying. He felt his fur warming in satisfaction, but he wasn’t done yet.
“I’m the one who’s perfectly adapted to hunting here. So, that means, you’re not the best anymore.”
Palepaw hissed loudly. She struck out a single sandy colored paw, but he stepped to his right, causing her to miss. He could see the anger burning in her eyes, but he only dodged her again. Hit after hit, Deeppaw avoided her blows. He knew all her moves now. He could beat her.
Palepaw looked like she’d had enough. “Just let me hit you!” she yowled, leaping at him full force.
But when Deeppaw stepped aside, she plunged face-first into the tide pool.
The watching apprentices groaned at her defeat, then backed away from Deeppaw, suddenly finding him boring. He was no longer their plaything. He was free.
Suddenly, Palepaw surfaced from the water, coughing and sputtering and fuming. She yowled at the retreating apprentices, her eyes wide. “Hey, wait!” She whipped her head around to face Deeppaw, and her mouth moved, but no words came out. He saw that she looked genuinely frightened of him.
“Just go,” he told her. “Run back to camp.” As she obeyed without complaint, running after the others with her ears flattened, he didn’t try to follow. He didn’t want to be like her. He didn’t want to senselessly beat other cats up, whether they deserved it or not.
He turned back to the tide pool, where the water was beginning to settle again now that Palepaw had gone. And without another thought, he began to hunt. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Palepaw never intended to become a bully.
Wait, no. “Bully” was too strong a word.
Palepaw just… never intended to end up treating cats the way she did.
Not that she was making excuses or anything, but she didn’t come from the best family, that was the truth. Her parents hardly payed any attention to her. And when they did, their attention wasn’t exactly positive. Palepaw had soon learned that she needed to fulfill her social needs some other way.
So, when she became an apprentice, she didn’t hesitate to make friends with the others as soon as possible.
Which, she hated to admit, was a mistake on her part.
The others had a high expectation for the friends they made, and at first, Palepaw didn’t cut it. They didn’t think she was “interesting enough” to be around. Palepaw found herself going to new lengths to make them like her. After all, they were the only chance she had, right? She couldn’t prove to her parents that she was good enough… but if she could prove it to them… surely everything would get better.
So, she started to entertain them in ways she normally wouldn’t think to. They seemed to like amusing themselves by making the younger ones look bad, so she caught on to their routine and did it too. Soon, it became a habit. Palepaw started to see why the others liked it so much. Not only did it give her a certain sense of power she grew to crave, but also, every time she made another apprentice feel less than perfect, it made her feel like she was good enough, like she was strong enough to live her own life instead of depending on others. The happiness that drained out of another’s eyes by the power of her words fueled her strength, her eagerness to go on.
But, at the same time, it made her weaker.
She knew, somewhere inside her, that she shouldn’t be doing this. The pain that flashed across the features of another, the pain she knew she’d inflicted herself, reminded her only too well of how her parents would make her feel when she was younger. But whenever she felt like she wanted to stop, her friends reminded her that she couldn’t. If she did, she would lose them. And if she lost them… she would be a nobody again.
Her life went on like that for moons; moons of telling herself “yes” and telling herself “no”, moons of confidence and doubt, moons of pushing and pulling, moons of being stuck where she was and never moving. She was losing hope that it would ever get better, and at the same time, she didn’t want it to.
But then… then she met Deeppaw.
And Deeppaw… Deeppaw was just so easy to bother, it was almost irresistible. There were so many things that were wrong about him: the color of his pelt, his small size, his faulty ability to hunt; StarClan, he was basically just a failure in general. He quickly became Palepaw’s favorite target, to the point where she went out of her way to pester him every day. She even brought a few of her friends along to watch, and, to her delight, they loved it. It seemed Deeppaw was her new ticket to permanently keeping her friends.
That meant she definitely couldn’t lose him.
But, to her surprise, he eventually managed to muster enough strength to defy her.
It started one day when he’d gone to the rocks to hunt. Palepaw and the others followed him, and she pushed him into one of the tide pools, mocking him all the while. It had seemed like a spectacular show at first, until Deeppaw told her to leave him alone, of all things. The others seemed delighted to see a victim get sassy at last, but Palepaw was going to have none of it. If Deeppaw thought he could defy her, StarClan knew what would happen next. All her victims might decide to turn on her, and then her friends would certainly leave her.
So, Palepaw decided she couldn’t be as soft on Deeppaw anymore. She had to show him who was the boss.
She decided… she would act more like a shark.
So, the next day, she approached him when his mentor was out hunting. Like a shark, she would ambush him when he least expected it.
At first, she only teased him about his mentor leaving him behind, which any cat could expect. Deeppaw wasn’t fazed by her words… yet.
She quickly moved onto her next event, in which she brought up the undesirable color of his pelt; a topic she knew Deeppaw was quite sensitive about. She watched with triumph as the strength faded out of Deeppaw’s eyes, realizing her attempt was working. Like a shark, she’d swept in on her prey with brutal force, ready to devour it. Now, she only had to say the final words.
“You’re a failure, Deeppaw! It’s time you faced the truth!”
Palepaw’s words had hit home. Deeppaw look overwhelmed, his ears flat and his eyes wide. The shark had torn their prey apart with their razor-sharp teeth, or in her case, tongue. She watched as Deeppaw tore off to camp, having been beaten, her eyes alight. She’d won. Deeppaw surely wouldn’t defy her again.
What she hadn’t noticed, however, was that her friends hadn’t been very impressed by her show. She spun around, shocked—wasn’t her shark act one of a kind?—but her friends were staring at her, their gazes cold. After some explanation, she learned that they hadn’t liked the part where Deeppaw ran off to camp—as it wasn’t nearly as interesting. They wanted to see their victims face-to-face, not scare them away so they couldn’t bother them anymore. Plus, what if Deeppaw told on her and got them in trouble? Then Palepaw would’ve been banned from the group no-questions-asked.
Palepaw understood their concerns, and the triumph in her chest quickly turned to rage. She’d attempted to keep Deeppaw from rebelling, only to have her plan backfire. She didn’t care if her friends didn’t like it; she had to make him pay. He couldn’t do something like that and get away with it.
So, the day after, Palepaw convinced all her friends to come with her and see what she had planned for Deeppaw. She was determined to keep her status in the group, whatever the cost. She couldn’t be a nobody again.
They followed Deeppaw back to the rocks, only to find that he’d been waiting for them. Irritated, Palepaw huffed at him when she drew near, again bringing up his place as the worst apprentice in ShoreClan. Deeppaw wasn’t fazed, however, and said something snarky about what had happened the day before. Her attempt to throw it back in his face, again, failed. Growing desperate, she prepared to say something worse to him, something he’d never heard her say before, but he cut her off.
“You know what I’ve noticed, Palepaw?” he said. “Here at the rocks, your fur doesn’t blend in nicely anymore. Here, it’s my pelt that blends in better. You’re the one who stands out like a cloud in the sky.”
Palepaw felt her fur rising. How dare he? She was the one who was supposed to make making a fool out of him, not him!
“I’m the one who’s perfectly adapted to hunting here. So, that means, you’re not the best anymore.”
Palepaw’d had enough. Raging, she swiped at him with a paw, but missed. Again and again, predator was fooled by prey, and she found herself not caring if she killed him in her efforts. She could not lose this fight. She would not look fooled in front of her friends.
“Just let me hit you!” she yowled, swiping at him one more time.
But, instead of tearing into flesh, she found herself plunging into the tide pool.
After a moment of struggling against the water, Palepaw thrusted her head out of the water, sputtering. She yowled at her friends, who apparently thought they’d rather leave her than stay and help, in a rage. “Hey, wait!” They didn’t respond.
She whipped around to face Deeppaw, her heart pounding. He’d—he’d beaten her! How? How could he possibly have beaten her?
She didn’t want to run, but when Deeppaw told her to, her paws didn’t ask for confirmation. The thought that he had overcome her once and for all still stunned her. She still couldn’t believe it was over. That… that when she got back to camp, her friends surely wouldn’t welcome her back again. That she now had nothing, no one. That she was now a nobody.
Deeppaw, the one cat she hadn’t expected, had the power to destroy her life. And he’d used it without hesitation. Without hesitation… or without knowledge? asked the guilty voice still inside Palepaw. She shook it off.
But, really… she didn’t know what to do, now that she had no power. The thought struck her that maybe… maybe sharks didn’t catch their prey every time. That, maybe, sometimes they miss.
But that thought didn’t comfort Palepaw one bit.
I guess I’ll just have to get used to being the new Nobody of ShoreClan. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 2, 2017 17:20:41 GMT -5
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Petrelflight never let Eaglekit out of her sight. Whether he was playing with the other kits, pretending to hunt a seashell, or batting a feather around, she was always nearby, tensed, ready to protect him if anything bad happened. She would never let him participate in the other kits’ games if they seemed even a tiny bit dangerous, and she hardly ever let him out of camp, even though it wasn’t against the rules—as long as they had an experienced warrior accompany them, kits were allowed to play on the shore.
Petrelflight wasn’t trying to keep Eaglekit from having fun, she was just… afraid to lose him.
She couldn’t lose him like she lost Currentsplash.
That morning was one of the mornings Eaglekit managed to convince Petrelflight to let him go down to the shore with the other kits, and he was bouncing out of camp, his mother at his heels. And, as usual, her pelt began to crawl with nerves. What if he got stuck in the sand? What if the waves carried him away? She tried not to think about it.
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his squeal of joy when they reached the shore. She hoped she made him that happy…
Petrelflight’s wishful thoughts came to a halt when she saw Eaglekit splash into the water with a few other kits. She darted forward, ready to save him, but stopped when she saw plenty other warriors nearby. The kits would be fine. They weren’t even very deep—no deeper than their paws—and they each had a warrior making sure they didn’t drown. They didn’t need a paranoid queen treading on their tails.
Petrelflight backed away, her ears flattening. She was trying not to be so protective, but she just couldn’t help it. If something happened to Eaglekit, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. Each time she came back to the shallows, Currentsplash flashed into her mind. How his eyes, so blue, were the exact shade as Eaglekit’s. How he was so strong, so kind, and how she couldn’t believe how fast he’d gone. How she couldn’t save him.
Eaglekit was all she had left of him now.
The shallows always haunted her mind. The place she and Currentsplash used to love. Now it seemed quieter, lonelier without him. Just cold, empty water. She never wanted to go back there, yet, just like his father, Eaglekit loved the shallows and never wanted to leave. She couldn’t keep him away. She tried to keep him safe. But really, all she could do was hold him close before it was her turn to go. She wouldn’t always be around to save him. One day, he’d be alone.
Petrelflight didn’t want to just hover around him every moment of every day. She wanted to love him. To be with him. To make him happy. Because, wasn’t that how mothers were supposed to act?
So, Petrelflight did her best not to be so protective of her kit, and to love him as much as she could. Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that bad things could happen, and that she wished she could just hold on to him and never let go. She didn’t want him to go back to the shallows. She didn’t want the tide to sweep him away. She didn’t want to lose him.
As she curled into her nest with him, feeling his tiny body nestling into hers, she heard his quiet voice say her name. “Mother? Can you tell me a story?”
Petrelflight felt her heart break a little. Most queens would tell their kits stories of powerful, imaginary cats, and the happiest times, when nothing could go wrong. But those stories blinded their kits to the truth. The world wasn’t perfect. And when they realized that… it would break their hearts.
Petrelflight decided to tell her kit something real. Something true. “Well,” she began, “let me tell you about the time I met your father. We were just apprentices then, and we were rather foolish. I didn’t like him at first—he seemed so sure of himself. But, after a while, I learned that he was actually quite kind, and very loyal.”
When she was finished, Eaglekit’s eyes were drooping with fatigue, and he tucked his nose under his little paws, yawned, and fell asleep.
Petrelflight’s heart was heavy. She’d told Eaglekit about his father many times, but she’d never said what happened to him. Eaglekit had never asked. But she could tell that he’d guessed the truth. He always became subdued when she mentioned Currentsplash’s name.
Maybe I should stop talking about Currentsplash. Does it make Eaglekit sad?
She didn’t want to make Eaglekit sad. She just thought it was better he knew the truth instead of having to find it out the hard way, or worse, not knowing it at all. She wanted him to know he had a father once. Not anymore, but once.
She didn’t think she would ever be able to lie to him anyway.
She just wanted to protect him.
She knew that, no matter what, Eaglekit would always have a piece of his father inside him. He would always love the shallows. He would grow up to be strong, and brave, and kind, just like Currentsplash. And one day, he would be able to meet his father in StarClan.
In the meantime, she would hold him close and keep him safe. She would love him just as much as she would’ve if Currentsplash was there with them. She would be the mother he deserved.
And Petrelflight knew that as long as Eaglekit was with her, he would be safe. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray…”
Dunepaw had never understood the meaning of that song. He knew nursery queens sang it to their kits, but he never knew why. What was so special about sunshine? Sure, it lit up the Clan in the daytime, but it wasn’t like any cat had to make up a song about it. It would be like… singing about water, for StarClan’s sake. Something you saw every day. There was nothing special about sunshine.
Yet, when the queens sang it to their kits, they made it seem so meaningful and loving. Dunepaw was sure that if he ever had kits in his lifetime, he wouldn’t compare them with light. He wouldn’t call them sunshine. He would stick to calling them by their real names, and that would be it.
But… something about the tone in those queens’ voices when they sang it… They seemed to know something he didn’t. And he didn’t know if he would ever find out, that was for sure.
Why should I care anyway? he thought. It’s just an old nursery song. Dunepaw pushed the song out of his mind. He had more important things to be thinking about.
Dunepaw padded out of the apprentices’ den, having finished his morning wash. He set his mind to finding his mentor, Sharktooth, and see what training he would have that day. He spotted the gray tom pacing in front of the nursery, his fur bushed up in concern.
Oh, Dunepaw thought. His mate must be having her kits today.
He padded up to Sharktooth, feeling his pelt crawl with nerves. He didn’t know what births were like. He hoped he wasn’t disturbing them in some way.
“Uh… Sharktooth?” Dunepaw started. “Are we going to train today? If this is a bad time, I can come back later…”
Sharktooth jerked his gaze up to meet Dunepaw’s, looking like he’d been snapped from a trance. “Oh… Dunepaw. Sealight’s having her kits, so… I guess you can be excused from your apprentice duties today. I can’t train you right now.” Dunepaw saw Sharktooth’s fur stand on end as a groan of pain sounded from inside the nursery. “Run along,” Sharktooth said with a wince.
“Uh… okay.” Dunepaw turned and padded away, feeling awkward.
Well, I guess the good thing about this is that I don’t have to do the elders’ ticks today! he thought with a grin.
Dunepaw decided that he would spend some time hunting while Sealight was giving birth, even though he didn’t have to. He might be able to impress Sharktooth by bringing back prey all by himself. He headed down towards the shore once he’d left the camp, pushing out of the tall grass before long.
He felt the breeze hit his pelt once he was clear of the grass, smelling the saltiness of the sea along with it. The sun was still low in the sky from the morning, reflecting off the water in a brilliant light. It was quite beautiful, he realized. But it still didn’t explain the point of the sunshine song.
Angry that his mind had brought up the song again, Dunepaw headed down to where the sand was hardened by the endless lapping of the waves. But before he could step into the water and start to hunt, the sunlight hit him directly and he was stunned for a moment by its brightness. But… what he realized was that, the sun didn’t only bring light to his pelt, but… warmth. Warmth like he’d never felt before. He was used to the calm, mild weather that came with the sea, but this… this felt like paradise.
Suddenly, he was met by the overpowering urge to lie down in the sand and let the warmth seep into his pelt, to fill him up and make him whole. He padded away from the water, back into the soft sand, spreading himself out on the ground so he could feel the sun to its fullest. His hunt would have to wait for a bit.
As he let his eyes droop shut, basking in the amazing sunlight and the perfect warmth like his life depended on it, his mind came to a single thought:
So this is sunshine. I love it.
. . .
When Dunepaw awoke, he’d expected only a short amount of time would have passed. He didn’t expect it to be well past sun-high, and he certainly didn’t think that Sharktooth would have to come to fetch him and bring him back to camp. But that was exactly what happened.
Dunepaw blinked open his eyes and yawned. He looked up at the sky, wondering how long he had slept, and leapt up with alarm when he noticed that it had been a while. Why did I sleep for so long? he thought, surprised and concerned. He’d better get back to camp. Sharktooth must be missing him.
As he turned to pad back to the grass, a jolt of pain slashed through his body. “Ow!” he couldn’t help but hiss, looking down at his pelt to see why he was suddenly in such pain. He saw that some areas of his skin were an angry red, and had swollen up. Wincing, he brought up a paw to touch his injured skin. It felt hot.
What’s happened to my pelt? he yowled silently, resisting the urge to yowl out loud too. The searing pain only grew worse with each step closer to camp, and he had the slightest idea why. He’d never been in this much pain in his life.
I need… to find… medicine cat… he thought, grinding his teeth against the pain. His skin felt like it was on fire.
As he broke into the grass, he heard his mentor’s voice calling to him from afar. “Dunepaw! There you are!” Dunepaw hardly noticed as Sharktooth raced to his side, letting him lean on his shoulder as they made their way back to camp. “We need to get you to Morningbreeze!”
As they padded into camp, Dunepaw could hear a few gasps of surprise and concern from the others as they made their way to Morningbreeze’s den. It was near the back of the camp, woven out of tall grass and seaweed and decorated with seashells. Morningbreeze’s eyes widened when she saw them, hurrying to her herb store in a flash. “Set him down there!” she mewed, and Dunepaw didn’t protest when Sharktooth let him sit down in one of the feather-lined nests for Morningbreeze’s patients.
When Morningbreeze dashed back over to them, examining his pelt, Dunepaw asked her, “What’s happened to me?” with a groan.
“Sunburn,” Morningbreeze replied, starting to chew the bundle of leaves and thick roots she’d brought back with her. “A bad case of it.”
Dunepaw blinked, not sure he’d heard her right. “What?”
“Sunburn,” Morningbreeze repeated, her attention fixed on her work.
“Wait a minute,” Dunepaw mewed, startled. “You’re saying the sun can burn me?”
“Yes,” Morningbreeze replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “That’s what happens when you lie out in the sun for long.
In that moment, Dunepaw was glad his skin was already red, or Morningbreeze would see that his face was heating up in embarrassment. “Um… about that…”
“Think nothing of it,” Sharktooth meowed from his spot by the back of the den, watching Morningbreeze work silently. “I did say you could have the day off, didn’t I? Just be more careful next time.”
“O-okay…” Dunepaw mewed, relieved, then remembered Sealight with a jolt. “Oh, Sharktooth, how are your new kits?”
Sharktooth smiled and replied with a purr. “They're two healthy she-kits, Bluekit and Shellkit.”
Dunepaw purred with Sharktooth. His day might not have been fortunate, but Sharktooth’s sure was.
After that, a poultice of comfrey root and stinging nettle leaves regularly applied to his skin healed the burns and brought down the swelling. He would be able to get back to his normal apprentice duties soon enough, and he would remember not to lie in the sunshine for half the day.
He would remember how just a little bit of sunshine felt so good on his pelt, but that too much could burn a cat. He now knew how delightful sunshine was, but to be careful with it when there was no cover from the sun.
Now, he thought he finally understood the meaning of the sunshine song. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Pikefang wasn’t exactly the kindest cat in the Clan. No, he was more of a stubborn, snappy type. Most cats thought he was rude, but he liked to think of himself as… brusque, or blunt. Areas where other cats would normally be afraid to speak up was his specialty. He wasn’t afraid to be honest. Even if some cats didn’t appreciate that.
Minnowshine, on the other paw… was very kind. Almost unbearably kind. She was always determined to see the best in others, even if it wasn’t there. Pikefang couldn’t stand it.
And yet, Minnowshine seemed to have some strange, kitlike affection towards Pikefang that made no sense. Why would someone so optimistic and bubbly and happy want to have anything to do with him, the “rude” cat? Must be whatever she thinks is the “best” in me. And possibly my good looks. Heh.
Still, Minnowshine’s foolish liking of Pikefang got on his nerves sometimes. Well, more times than not. He didn’t want her constantly following him around or making him seem like some brave, heroic, sappy tom. It was more a burden on his shoulders then just a meaningless adoration.
So, when she padded up to him with the usual dreamy look on her face, he knew what to say.
“Hey, Pikefang, want to come hunting with me?” she asked him, grinning shyly.
“No,” Pikefang replied curtly.
Minnowshine looked hurt. “W-why?”
“I have better things to do,” he mewed dismissively, turning away from her. It was true. He’d much rather join the deputy’s patrol then have to tag along with her.
“But—”
“Look, just leave me alone, will you?” Pikefang interrupted her protests. The she-cat was starting to get on his nerves. Again.
But instead of leaving, Minnowshine kept up at her efforts and meowed, “I know there's good in you somewhere.”
Pikefang resisted the urge to scoff. What, you think I'm a mushy romantic like you? he almost said, but held it back. “Well, you're wrong,” he mewed instead.
Minnowshine seemed to have nothing else to say. She just looked up at him, pain filling her eyes, and stayed silent. Pikefang wished she would leave.
Then a voice sounded behind them. “Just leave her alone, Pikefang.”
Pikefang almost groaned. He turned and saw his sister, Mistshade, watching with scorn. “What? She's the one who needs to leave me alone,” Pikefang protested. He hated it when his sister intruded on his business. Minnowshine was hard enough to handle without a bossy older she-cat defending her.
“Great StarClan, you can be such a jellyfish sometimes,” Mistshade hissed. Her gaze flickered over to his tormentor. “C’mon, Minnowshine. That jellyfish best not be messed with right now.”
When Minnowshine and Mistshade padded away together, Pikefang felt his mind reeling. What was the big deal? The she-cats had acted like he’d been cruel to them or something. It made no sens— wait, did she just call me a jellyfish? his mind yowled. He didn’t know much about jellyfish, only that they were some kind of creatures that looked like blobs and had no brains. He’d always assumed that jellyfish must be extremely weak. She called me weak! How dare she? I am not weak!
He’d show her weak. Why, he’d— he’d catch the biggest fish in the Clan if he had to! Then he wouldn’t be called a jellyfish again.
Pikefang set out to the shore immediately. He was ready to prove his sister wrong. He’d catch the biggest fish he could possibly find.
As he waded deeper into the water, he felt the chilled wetness lapping at his pelt, but he didn’t mind. He was a ShoreClan cat, after all. Every ShoreClan cat knew how to swim. But not every ShoreClan cat could catch the biggest prey.
Soon, he felt the sand below leave his paws. The water got deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until he knew he was where the bigger fish swam. He ducked under the water, and looked around for any that could be swimming nearby. The water was a bit murky near the bottom, so he couldn’t see it clearly, but he could tell that there weren’t any fish. Hmn, Pikefang thought. I better try somewhere else. But before he could swim away, something slowly drifting towards him caught his eye.
Is that… a jellyfish? he wondered, squinting against the water to get a closer look. He didn’t know what else it could be. It looked just how he’d heard it described: a round blob of some substance, with long tentacles trailing behind it. If he was above the water, he would’ve laughed. It looked pathetic. That’s what my sister thinks I am, he thought with scorn. I’ll show her I’m much more than a jellyfish when I bring back what I catch.
Pikefang turned to swim away. He wouldn’t even dare to wonder if that weak jellyfish was remotely dangerous, so he didn’t care if he brushed by it as he left. What harm could it do?
But as a long, soft tentacle brushed against his paw, he felt a sharp, hot pain shoot up his leg. He jerked away from the jellyfish, almost gasping from the pain. How could such a useless creature be so… terrible?
Pikefang struck out toward the shore with all his strength. He wanted to get away from the creature more than anything. But his stinging paw was making it difficult.
When he finally did reach the shore, he stumbled away from the water, away from the horrible creature that was causing his paw to throb. Then he started heading back to camp; although he was embarrassed to be going to the medicine cat about a jellyfish, he just wanted the pain to stop.
As he limped into the medicine den, dripping with water, he saw the old medicine cat look up from her fresh-kill. Her gaze travelled to his paw. “Jellyfish?” she asked.
“H-how did you know?” he asked, surprised.
“I’ve seen the stings a few times in my life. Although, most cats know to stay away from them.” She gave Pikefang a stern glare.
“Sorry! I-I didn’t know it was dangerous…”
“It’s okay,” Bluepool mewed. “We all have to learn at some point in our lives.”
So, the medicine cat helped Pikefang back down to the beach, where she washed off his paw in the salt water, then applied a certain poultice to the sting. The pain gradually faded, but Pikefang never forgot how much it hurt.
He knew now what Mistshade had meant when she’d called him a jellyfish. She hadn’t called him weak; she’d called him… cruel. Hurtful. Unkind.
The pain he’d seen in Minnowshine’s eyes… it reminded him of the pain he’d felt when he’d been stung. He felt ashamed for treating her that way. Even though he’d found her annoying.
So, he went up to her, and told her that he was sorry. It was true. He didn’t want to make anyone feel like he was being a jellyfish again.
He didn’t want to be the way he was anymore. Honesty was fine. But cruelty… was not. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Bluekit and Shellkit were the closest two sisters could get. Their love for each other never grew any less since the day they knew their own names. And, since the moment they could walk, they never left each other’s sides.
During their kithood, they believed they would always be together, no matter what. But Bluekit developed an interest in medicine that she couldn’t ignore. She didn’t want to have to choose between her passion or her sister, but she soon learned that she didn’t have to. She could be a medicine cat apprentice and still be with Shellkit.
So, when it was time the sisters became apprentices, Bluekit requested to be mentored by Morningbreeze, the medicine cat. Her request was approved, and Bluekit was named the new medicine cat apprentice of ShoreClan, while Shellkit was content with just being a warrior.
After the ceremony, Bluepaw padded up to Shellpaw, her heart still glowing with joy and pride, but her mind feeling grim. “Shellpaw… promise we’ll always be together, even though we’re different kinds of apprentices now,” Bluepaw begged, her eyes pleading.
“I promise,” Shellpaw replied, purring.
After that, Bluepaw was delighted to find that the art of medicine was everything she’d hoped. Morningbreeze was patient and kind, and Bluepaw was a quick learner. Soon, she knew almost everything there was to know about healing—from pulling a sharp piece of a seashell from a paw, to curing a deadly cough. Bluepaw was ready to become a full medicine cat not long after Shellpaw—now Shellsong—became a warrior.
Morningbreeze took Bluepaw to the sacred place for meeting StarClan—a place by the rocks where a crystal-clear tide pool resided in a small cave, a hole in the top to let the moonlight in—and granted the apprentice her medicine cat name: Bluepool.
Bluepool hurried home to tell Shellsong her new name, knowing that Shellsong had promised to stay up until she got back. Shellsong was delighted to hear it, happy that they had both completed their apprenticeships, and had given her a lick on the ear in congratulations. Bluepool felt her heart swell with joy.
After that, the two sisters had kept to their vow. They spent time with each other whenever they could manage, and Bluepool found herself loving her sister even more with each passing day, although she didn’t know how that was possible. Bluepool would even skip a few herb-gathering sessions just so she could be with Shellsong. After all, no matter how much she loved medicine and StarClan, she would always love her sister more.
But, Bluepool soon noticed that Shellsong was starting to get distracted. After closer examination, Bluepool discovered that Shellsong was spending more and more time with Dunetail, another warrior. In fact, she noticed that most of the time Shellsong didn’t spend with her, she spent with that tom.
Bluepool knew she wasn’t jealous, because, a sister and a mate were two completely different things, but… she still felt… uneasy. Apprehensive. She didn’t know if Shellsong should be growing affectionate of Dunetail or not. All she could do was keep an eye on them.
Shellsong still seemed to love Bluepool just as much as she did before she met Dunetail. But Bluepool couldn’t be sure. Even if it wasn’t against the warrior code, she knew she wouldn’t have enough room left in her heart for a tom when so much of it was focused on her sister and her Clan. She had no idea how Shellsong was doing it.
She couldn’t protest when Shellsong agreed to be Dunetail’s mate. She couldn’t do anything except offer her congratulations. She couldn’t voice her grim thoughts.
And, as moons passed, Bluepool couldn’t say anything when Shellsong announced she was expecting Dunetail’s kits.
There’s nothing I can do, Bluepool thought, silently sorting herbs in her den. I’m too late. Shellsong will never leave Dunetail now. All she could do was watch and wait.
Bluepool made sure she checked on Shellsong’s condition every day. She couldn’t help but remember all the things that could go wrong when a queen was expecting, and she forced herself to stay silent. She didn’t want to make Shellsong worry for no reason.
But Bluepool couldn’t ignore the signs of sickness in Shellsong when she was only a moon along.
“I’m fine, Bluepool,” Shellsong tried to assure her. “I really am.” Bluepool knew she wasn’t. She’d noticed the signs of fever as soon as she'd padded into the nursery.
As the days passed, Shellsong only grew worse. Soon, the queen stopped trying to tell Bluepool she was fine. Bluepool could tell things weren’t looking good.
As the time for Shellsong’s delivery came, Bluepool wasn’t even sure she was strong enough to do it. Bluepool hoped that, if she tried hard enough, she would be able to save Shellsong. The kits probably weren’t even alive anymore, considering the severity of Shellsong’s illness.
Morningbreeze let Dunetail sit near Shellsong while she kitted, although the medicine cat had warned him that there was a possibility she wouldn’t make it. Looking grim, Dunetail took his place on the grass beside her, and she let out a feeble cough before asking him, “Will you stay with me?”
“Of course, sunshine,” Dunetail whispered. “I just need you to stay with me, too.”
Morningbreeze noticed Bluepool’s distress over Shellsong’s condition and told her she could wait outside, so she wouldn’t have to watch. Bluepool was reluctant, but she obeyed. She didn’t want to see her sister in pain. She wanted terribly to help her kit, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to in her state of mind.
So, Bluepool waited.
Shellsong was quiet her whole kitting, which unnerved Bluepool. Shellsong wasn’t usually quiet.
But the quiet was broken a while later by a wail of anguish and despair.
It was Dunetail.
Bluepool crashed into the nursery, her eyes wild, and saw Shellsong lying limp in her nest. She wasn’t breathing. Bluepool let out a screech of pain, not wanting to look any longer.
Her sister was dead.
She wanted to blame someone, anyone, for the pain that was tearing her heart in half. To blame Morningbreeze for failing to save her. To blame Dunetail for having kits with her. To blame Shellsong even for getting sick.
But she knew whose fault it was.
It was StarClan’s fault.
StarClan had let Shellsong get sick and die. StarClan put the kits in Shellsong’s belly. StarClan made her want to be a medicine cat so she wouldn’t be able to stop Shellsong from having a mate. StarClan did it. It was all StarClan’s fault!
Suddenly, Bluepool felt her faith in StarClan trickling away with the tide.
StarClan had betrayed her.
As the days passed, Bluepool participated in less and less of her medicine duties. She let her grief for Shellsong take the place of her faith and her will; not lifting her head from her nest when Morningbreeze called; not eating; not saying a word.
Maybe, if she died, she would be able to see Shellsong again.
One evening—or was it morning? She didn’t know anymore—Bluepool heard a cat padding into the medicine den. She could tell by scent that it wasn’t Morningbreeze. “What do you want?” she grumbled.
“I’ve come to talk to you, Bluepool, and… and to say sorry.”
Bluepool lifted her head. Dunetail was the last cat she’d expected to see. “Why?” she asked him.
“Because, I see now that if I never became Shellsong’s mate, or let her have my kits, then she would still be alive. And I know you know that too.”
Dunetail was right. Bluepool did know. She scowled at him. “So?”
“So… I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. This shouldn’t have happened. Shellsong should still be alive.”
Bluepool growled, suddenly angry. “No, you’re not ‘sorry’. You’d still make the same choices you did, even if you were given another chance. Just like every other cat. I’m tired of dealing with other cats’ mistakes! Tired!”
Dunetail looked startled. “Bluepool—”
“Just leave me alone, Dunetail! You have no idea how I feel right now.”
Bluepool covered her face with her paws as Dunetail stumbled out of the den. She didn’t notice Morningbreeze padding in after he left.
“Bluepool,” Morningbreeze began, her voice betraying no emotion. “Look at me.”
Bluepool glared at Morningbreeze over her paws.
“I know you’re in pain, but you had no right to treat Dunetail that way. He does feel what you’re feeling. He’s just more dignified about it.”
Bluepool scoffed.
“I also know that StarClan might seem against you right now, but that doesn’t mean you can neglect your duties.”
Bluepool sat upright, her eyes flaring with rage. “Of course StarClan is against me! Why else would they take Shellsong away?”
Morningbreeze’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve given you time to grieve, but now it’s time to get up. Your Clan needs you. And however much you don’t believe it, StarClan needs you too.
It’ll be alright, Bluepool. Trust me.”
Bluepool felt her heart grow heavy. She wanted to believe what Morningbreeze was saying, but…
“What about Shellsong?”
“I’m sure Shellsong would want you to get up too. She’s watching over us now, from her place among the stars. You see, StarClan didn’t steal her from you. They welcomed her home.”
Bluepool nodded her head slowly. Morningbreeze was making sense. She just didn’t know if she would be able to live without Shellsong.
“…Okay. I’ll get up. For Shellsong.”
Bluepool did get up. And when she did, feeling the weight of herself supported on her paws again, she felt her faith, her will, her life, flowing back into her, like the tide.
After all, even though the tide can go out and leave you feeling low, it’ll always come back up again. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 2, 2017 17:20:56 GMT -5
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Splashpaw considered himself to be a terrible swimmer. After all, he’d nearly drowned when he was a kit, and had only survived because Stormsight had saved him. He shuddered whenever he thought about it.
Splashpaw had never been a good swimmer in the first place. The other kits had seemed to catch on as soon as their paws touched the water, but not him. His paws always felt heavy and clumsy, and just got in his way. Every other cat seemed like they were part fish, while he was just part rock. Swimming was absolutely hopeless.
Stormsight, on the other paw, was a perfect swimmer. Obviously, Splashpaw thought. Stormsight had saved the entire Clan from a deadly flood mere moons ago. Every cat knew his name. And he wasn’t a terrible swimmer.
Splashpaw often wished he could be more like Stormsight. Liked by all the Clan. A good hunter. A great swimmer. A hero.
Splashpaw wasn’t a hero. He was nothing but an apprentice who couldn’t swim.
All he could do was hope that one day he’d be like Stormsight. With training, practice, and a lot of hard work, he might be able to swim better. So, he tried to learn. Every day. He used whatever time he could to practice. But he never seemed to get better. He just didn’t know how to move his paws or how to stay above the water. He wasn’t making any progress at all.
His mentor, Saltwhisker, didn’t know how to help either. The tom tried to help him swim, but to no luck. He said that Splashpaw was just… not born to swim, and that there was nothing he could do. Saltwhisker stuck to training Splashpaw on land.
But Splashpaw didn’t want to just hunt on land. He didn’t want to be like any other cat. He wanted to be like a ShoreClan cat. Like Stormsight.
So, he continued to try and teach himself how to swim. Every day, he went down to the shore, determined to make a difference. He wasn’t going to give up so easily.
Now, Splashpaw was wading in the shallow water, standing straight despite the waves. This isn’t so bad, he thought, defeating another wave as it knocked against his legs. He was feeling a bit brave, so he went a little deeper. Then, even deeper.
I’m-I’m doing it! he thought. I’m not falling over this time!
But, just as he thought it, a large wave swept up from behind him and knocked him off his paws, leaving him sprawling in the water. Resisting the urge to panic, he fought against the waves to try to get back to the surface, but they were holding him down. His flailing and kicking wasn’t helping at all; it was only making him lose air faster. He was going nowhere fast.
Just when he was starting to feel light headed, a set of paws grabbed on to his shoulders and lifted him out of the water.
Splashpaw coughed up a few mouthfuls of water, feeling angry with himself for failing again. At this rate, he’d never learn how to swim in his life. “Squid-dung,” he hissed, spitting out the last of the salty liquid from his mouth. He then turned to see who his rescuer was and almost gasped. It was Stormsight.
“You might want to watch where you put your paws,” Stormsight mewed, looking down at Splashpaw. “You’re lucky I was here to save you.”
Again, Splashpaw thought to himself. “S-sorry,” he stuttered. “I’m… not a very good swimmer.”
“Hmn,” Stormsight acknowledged.
“Saltwhisker says I’m just not meant to swim,” Splashpaw added.
“Well, I think you just need a bit of guidance,” Stormsight mewed.
“Saltwhisker has been trying, but—”
“Maybe he hasn’t been trying the right way,” Stormsight interrupted him. “Why don’t you ask for some advice from someone else, just to switch things up? You might learn something new.”
“But what about Saltwhisker?” Splashpaw asked.
“Tell him that Stormsight has offered to teach you a few tricks.”
Splashpaw’s eyes widened. “W-would you really?” he asked. Being taught by his hero sounded… almost too good to be true!
“Sure,” Stormsight replied. “I don’t have an apprentice of my own, so why not?”
Splashpaw felt his chest swelling with excitement. Stormsight is going to teach me how to swim!
Stormsight stayed true to his word. He and Splashpaw met by the shore every day after that, where he gave Splashpaw advice on how to swim correctly. He showed Splashpaw how to paddle with his paws, how to keep his head above the water, and even how to dive underwater, then come back up. Splashpaw found himself learning more than he had ever learned with Saltwhisker. He improved with each passing day, and soon, he wasn’t afraid of the possibility of drowning anymore. He could swim—finally—just like any other apprentice.
Stormsight had helped him achieve that.
Now, Stormsight and Splashpaw were bobbing along where it was deep, practicing how to tread water. Splashpaw was grinning widely, as he had not missed a stroke yet since they had started, and he was feeling rather proud of himself. Stormsight was watching with a smile on his face.
“I believe you’ll turn out to be an excellent swimmer someday, Splashpaw,” Stormsight mewed. “You’ve already learned so much.”
“All because you taught me,” Splashpaw stated with a purr.
“All you needed was a nudge in the right direction,” Stormsight meowed. “Who knows, one day, you might even get a chance to save and protect your Clanmates, like I did. I’m sure you wouldn’t fail.”
Splashpaw ducked his head in embarrassment and gratitude. “I’ll try.”
“I know you will.”
And the two toms floated along in the water, never missing a beat, as the art of swimming, yet learned, came naturally to them. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Leo wasn’t born in the nicest of places. Rather, he was born and raised in the hot, dusty attic of a human den. There wasn’t much space, and it was quite uncomfortable. But Leo learned to get used to it after a while.
What he didn’t get used to, though, was his family. His mother was always distant, only there to feed him and groom his pelt. And his littermates… Well, simply put, they acted awfully wild. They always fought over their milk, scraps of cloth they found to play with, and attention from the human. Naturally, he was always the last to get the prizes, since he was the smallest. Often, he was lucky to even get a bit of the milk and a pat on the head from the human. Life wasn’t easy for him.
But, after spending a month of his life with his littermates, Leo began to learn their tricks. He figured out how to use his small size to weave through the others to get to the milk the fastest. He noticed that, by nipping the end of his sister’s tail, he could get her to give up the toys she always found in the corners of the attic. He could make the human stroke him by purring at it. Soon, his life wasn’t so hopeless anymore.
But, when the kits grew to be about two months old, things started to change.
Leo noticed that his mother was beginning to feed them less and less milk. The human now seemed in charge of feeding them, and brought them hard, dry pellets every day. Leo preferred milk over the strange new food, but he knew queens couldn’t nurse their kits forever. So, he got used to it.
But, one by one, his littermates slowly started to disappear. Well, not exactly disappear. The human would bring other humans to look at the kits, who would each pick out the one who could act the cutest, then leave the attic. Those kits were never seen again.
Leo soon figured out what was happening, although he didn’t want to admit it. His mother and her human seemed to be giving the kits away. He knew that he’d soon be next.
He didn’t know why he didn’t like the sound of that—wouldn’t it be good to finally be free from his littermates?—but he didn’t want to be taken by a different human. If he had to leave his home, he wanted to be able to explore, to see the world not just from a window, instead of being closed in a room again. He wanted to be free.
So, when the next human came, he was ready.
Leo waited patiently for the trapdoor to the attic to open again. When it did, he jumped through the hole without a second thought, bounded to the door that lead outside, and leapt through the flap his mother left through when she wasn’t watching her kits. He knew the humans must be chasing after him, so he darted as far away from the den as he could before stopping.
I’m free! he thought, sure that the humans weren’t following him anymore.
But, now that he wasn’t trapped in an attic anymore, he had no idea where to go. He was now a three-month-old kit that was all alone, with no food, and nowhere to go.
Maybe… Maybe my idea wasn’t so smart… he thought, glancing back in the direction of his old home. He didn’t think he would be able to find his way back now.
Leo knew he would have to go somewhere else.
He remembered his mother talking about some place called the ocean, and how it wasn’t far away. She said that all a cat had to do to find it was to follow the rising run. He thought it sounded like a good start. He might even be able to live there. So, he followed his mother’s directions and set out after the rising sun, curious as to what the ocean was and where he’d find it.
As he travelled, he managed to find a few scraps of discarded human food here and there, as well as convince some of the humans around to give him something to eat. He found that they were strangely gullible, and gave him food without much protest. But he was used to not getting much to eat anyway.
When Leo finally did reach the ocean after a couple of days of travel, he knew it when he saw it. It was just what his mother had described: a never-ending expanse of water, churning and splashing with the breeze. He was instantly captivated by the sight of it. He knew without a doubt that he never wanted to leave.
But, he knew that if he was going to stay, he should give himself a new name. Calling himself the name his human carelessly dropped on his shoulders seemed hardly fitting compared to the magnificence of the sea. So, he decided that Shore sounded nice. It was where he would be spending the rest of his life, after all. Right beside the ocean.
But he didn’t want to have to beg humans for food for the rest of his life either. He wanted to be able to protect himself, to be able to get his own food whenever he wanted. So, he watched the other cats that wandered the area to see how they hunted. He figured out how to stalk, how to climb trees, even how to swim and fish. He learned the strange ways they spoke, too. Apparently, cats by the ocean called humans “twolegs” and months “moons”. But, he knew if he was going to live there, he’d have to talk like them.
Moons and seasons passed, and Shore perfected the ways of the strange ocean cats. Soon, he didn’t need to rely on twolegs for food anymore; he could hunt and catch his own prey. The way they spoke became a reflex to him. He didn’t act like a twoleg’s pet anymore.
But, strangely enough, life by the shore was lonelier than he’d expected. He’d been around other cats most of his kithood, but now he was alone, with no one to talk to. The closest thing he could get to a conversation was eavesdropping on other cats. He didn’t like it very much, that was for sure.
But he couldn’t just walk up to another cat and ask to be their friend. That would most likely get him killed. He did wish he could, though.
I guess this is just what comes with running away from home, Shore thought ruefully.
All Shore could do was keep listening to other cats, hoping that would be enough to suffice. It didn’t help much.
But, one day, while he was listening to two dangerous looking toms grumbling to each other, he noticed a topic that sounded interesting.
“Have you heard of that Clan that just started up in the forest? Huge group of cats, huge. And they just came out of nowhere.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of ‘em. Some say they eat bones. I can’t believe there’s another one out there already. They gave me this nasty scar here on my flank, see?”
“Mmn. That’s nasty, alright. Someone’s got to teach those cats a lesson. Thinking they can steal a bunch o’ territory whenever they want. Flea-pelts.”
Shore’s eyes lit up. There’s a Clan out there? he thought. A whole Clan of cats? That-that sounds amazing! Not only were the toms making it sound like there were more than one, but that any cat could start one whenever they wanted. He could start a Clan. Right there by the ocean. He wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.
Shore listened to the rest of the toms’ conversation to learn more about these so-called Clans. He heard about how they set up territories using scent markers, how they believed in a group of spirit cats called StarClan—the toms thought the idea of StarClan was absolutely ridiculous, but Shore found it fascinating—and how they had a strange system of ranks of warriors, apprentices, deputies, and medicine cats. Shore knew there was a lot to learn still, so he made sure to listen in on as many conversations about Clans as he could.
He knew what he wanted to do now. He wanted to start a Clan.
So, Shore went straight to work. He searched until he could find just the right area of the beach that he knew would be perfect for a Clan—where a large area of tall grass grew by the dunes, and where a rocky place full of tide pools resided nearby—and set up the borders just the way he wanted them. He renamed himself Shorestar, as it was Clan tradition, and started to search for just the right cats to join his Clan, ShoreClan.
First, Shorestar came across Duckfoot, and named him as his deputy. Then, they discovered two tiny kits abandoned on the beach, Kelpkit and Krillkit, and raised them as their own. Then, Raindapple found her way into their ranks. With each passing moon, Shorestar found more and more cats willing to join his Clan.
Soon, they were just as large as the Clans by the forest. Rogues spread rumors of the Clan by the sea, which was growing rapidly. No one dared launch an attack against them.
Shorestar still couldn’t believe that, after all he’d been through, he’d managed to start a successful Clan. His days as a twoleg pet were now faint memories, and his full attention remained on his Clanmates. He knew that, one day, he wouldn’t be around anymore to lead them, and that he would leave to take his place in the stars, but that was okay. ShoreClan wasn’t going to fade any time soon.
ShoreClan would always be the Clan that lived by the sea, no matter what. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam volutpat, justo quis congue varius, ex justo tincidunt sapien, in cursus metus lacus in urna. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam est et dolor faucibus aliquet. Mauris pharetra condimentum libero, quis maximus purus varius quis. Morbi eleifend maximus neque vitae iaculis. Ut auctor gravida ultricies. Vestibulum congue sapien dolor, vitae viverra dui ullamcorper vitae. Nam tincidunt nibh eu hendrerit accumsan. Nunc at aliquet velit, vitae imperdiet diam. Mauris vitae tempus metus, ac pharetra neque. Praesent ut purus vitae orci lacinia convallis et eu nisl. Fusce ut interdum felis. Vivamus efficitur molestie velit. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Dawnkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Dawnpaw. Your mentor will be Finstripe. I hope Finstripe will pass down all he knows on to you."
Finstripe's eyes widened in shock. M-me? he thought, fur beginning to rise in alarm. I-I can't be a mentor!
But before Finstripe could protest, Driftstar continued on.
"Finstripe, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You had received excellent training from Crabclaw, and you have shown yourself to be intelligent and swift-footed. You will be the mentor of Dawnpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to Dawnpaw."
I'm not ready! Finstripe protested silently. Why, I'll probably be the worst mentor ShoreClan's ever known!
But Finstripe couldn't keep himself from padding up to the leader's rock and touching noses with his new apprentice, as it was tradition. To protest would be madness. Not only would it be a complete embarrassment, but it was the warrior code! He couldn't break the warrior code over a mere apprentice!
As the Clan started chanting Dawnpaw's name, Finstripe's belly hollowed with dread. I'm a failure. Failures don't get apprentices.
He was jerked out of his thoughts when he realized the ceremony had ended, and Dawnpaw was gazing up at him, her tortoiseshell fur fluffed up in excitement. "Are we going to train now?" she asked... a bit too loudly. "Are you going to teach me how to hunt? To swim? To fight?"
"Um, not right now, actually," Finstripe replied, trying to keep his voice calm. "We're going to join the next border patrol."
Dawnpaw's face fell. "Aww, just a border patrol? Why can't we hunt?"
"At least I'm not making you change the elders' bedding," Finstripe mewed, meeting her gaze coldly. It wasn't his fault he had to train her.
So, they joined the patrol. Dawnpaw trudged and mumbled the whole way, but Finstripe could tell she was excited to be seeing the whole territory for the first time. He tried hard not to scoff.
The next day was the same thing. Dawnpaw asking to train, but Finstripe turning her down. He couldn't handle her seemingly endless energy, and tendency to whine when things didn't go her way. Typical apprentice, Finstripe thought.
But soon, Finstripe knew he had to switch it up. At this rate, Driftstar would find him out, and he’d be ruined. His secret had to stay secret.
So, the next time Dawnpaw asked to train, he reluctantly agreed to teach her some fighting moves. She was now bounding down to the beach, her pelt fluffed up like it usually was, and he could tell she thought he must have had a change of heart. Not today, he thought.
“So,” Dawnpaw mewed when they reached the shore. “Teach me some moves.” Her tail was swishing behind her.
“Actually,” Finstripe mewed, his gaze fixed on his apprentice, “I want you to try to attack me.”
Finstripe saw doubt flicker in Dawnpaw’s amber eyes, but she obeyed and leapt towards him. He swiftly stepped to the side, causing Dawnpaw to crash paws-first into the sand. The tortoiseshell stood up, shook the sand off her pelt, and leapt again, then missed again. Finstripe was able to dodge each leap and swipe and blow, which left Dawnpaw looking rather flustered with him.
“Why can’t you teach me some moves first?” she wailed. “I’ll never catch you if I don’t even know how!”
“You’ll manage eventually,” Finstripe meowed, ducking as his apprentice swiped at his ears.
Dawnpaw huffed angrily. She then turned and stomped back up the slope, towards camp. “‘Eventually,’” she echoed. “Yeah, well, I’m going back to camp. Come find me ‘eventually’.”
Finstripe’s neck fur bristled with anger. That disrespectful… arrogant… kit! he thought, glaring at the place where Dawnpaw disappeared into the grass. How dare she?!
He stormed back to camp after her, both angry that she’d left like that and afraid Driftstar would be suspicious of him, although he had no idea what to say to her when he got there. Should he tell her the truth? Make up a lie? Demand her to get back to training?
But when he found her pouting in the apprentices’ den, the words just came out by themselves. “Look, Dawnpaw, I’m sorry about what happened. I should’ve taught you the moves. Come out, and I’ll show you how to hunt.”
The words surprised even him. He did feel sorry, but… he’d never wanted an apprentice. Why should he have to have one?
Dawnpaw turned around, her eyes shining. She jumped up from her nest, and they padded down to the beach together. When they reached it, Finstripe reluctantly showed Dawnpaw the hunter’s crouch. But Dawnpaw wasn’t satisfied.
“A hunter’s crouch won’t help me in the water,” she stated.
“Oh, um. In… the water?” Finstripe asked, feeling queasy.
“Yeah. We are ShoreClan cats, you know. We fish. So teach me how to fish.”
“Uh… I…” Finstripe stared out at the water, suddenly feeling very nervous. He didn’t want to swim in it. Not now, not ever.
“You’re not afraid of the water, are you?” Dawnpaw asked, looking quite curious. When Finstripe didn’t answer, she pressed on. “Are you? Are you, are you, are you?”
Finstripe didn’t want to be pestered by her any longer. “Fine! Yes, I am! Are you happy now?”
Dawnpaw’s eyes widened. “But you’re a ShoreClan cat. ShoreClan cats practically live in the water.
So… why are you afraid of it?”
Finstripe’s tongue felt dry. “I… I… can’t really swim. Well.”
“What?” Dawnpaw gasped. “You can’t swim? Didn’t Crabclaw ever teach you how?”
“Crabclaw just sat around and let me fend for myself after he learned I was a scrawny failure!” Finstripe snapped. He didn’t want to have to bring his former mentor into this.
“Then why are you a warrior? Why didn’t you tell Driftstar about it? How come Crabclaw got away with that?”
Finstripe fought for words for a few moments. “I was afraid. I was afraid of Crabclaw telling everyone how terrible I was. I was afraid of never becoming a warrior. I was—am—afraid of the water. The- the undertow will sweep me away every time I get in the water. I can’t swim. I—”
“You know all those stories about the undertow are fake, right?” Dawnpaw interrupted. “They’re just stories to scare naughty kits. It doesn’t really ‘sweep you away’ or anything.”
Finstripe blinked. “W-what?”
“The undertow’s actually just the current. Not some evil water spirit that eats kits or anything.” Dawnpaw looked rather amused. “You’ll be fine.”
Finstripe still felt startled. “But… then why does the water try to drag me away every time I get in it?” he asked.
“Because Crabclaw never taught you how to swim,” Dawnpaw stated, as if it was as simple as breathing. “C’mon, we can learn how together.”
“Dawnpaw—” Finstripe started, hesitant to set his paws into the water.
“Yes?”
“I’m- I’m sorry about the way I treated you.”
Dawnpaw grinned. “It’s okay. I know fear can make cats do crazy things.”
So, Finstripe followed Dawnpaw into the water, and there was no undertow to try and stop him. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 2, 2017 17:21:07 GMT -5
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Duckpaw(foot) - brown tabby tom with yellow eyes and a paler chest and paws.
Shorestar - light ginger tom with pale blue eyes and nicked ears.
Conchpaw - brownish gray tabby tom with yellow eyes.
Sunnypaw - golden spotted she-cat with amber eyes.
Fogfoot - fluffy white tom; Conchpaw's mentor.
Sandwhisker - ginger she-cat with yellow eyes; Sunnypaw's mentor.
Eelpaw - gray tom.
Weedpaw - black tom.
Raindapple - silver tabby she-cat with pale, blind blue eyes.
Stone - gray tom.
Marshtail - fluffy brown she-cat with amber eyes.
Palmflower - ginger tabby she-cat with pale green eyes.
Covewhisker - pale gray tom with light blue eyes.
Stormsight - gray tabby tom with green eyes.
Lagoonstar - light gray she-cat with pale blue eyes and a white paw, ear, and tail tip.
Splashkit(paw) - dark gray tom with white paws.
Grassheart - gray tom with leaf green eyes.
Brightlily - ginger-and-white tabby she-cat with blue eyes.
Deeppaw - black tom with dark blue eyes.
Palepaw - pale, sand colored she-cat with light green eyes.
Petrelflight - pale gray she-cat with a darker tail, paws, and ears and blue-gray eyes.
Eaglekit - white tom-kit with sky blue eyes.
Dunepaw(tail) - sand colored tom with pale green eyes and a lighter muzzle and paws.
Sharktooth - gray tom with a black tail-tip, paw, ears and yellow eyes.
Morningbreeze - pale, dilute tortoiseshell she-cat with dark amber eyes.
Pikefang - black tom with a white tail tip and "socks" and gray eyes.
Minnowshine - russet brown tabby she-cat with pale green eyes.
Mistshade - dark gray she-cat with gray eyes.
Bluepool - dark blue-gray tabby she-cat with light blue eyes.
Shellsong - white she-cat with pale blue-gray tabby patches and dark blue eyes.
Finstripe - light ginger tom with yellow eyes and a darker stripe down his back.
Dawnpaw - small tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Writing, coding, and headers made by me
Prompts and BBFC made by ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ
Shorestar, Duckfoot, Krilltuft, Kelpfur, and Raindapple created by Pollen-nose
ShoreClan created in and inspired by the Creation of the Clans forum game by Pollen-nose
Warrior cats made by Erin Hunter - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 3, 2017 13:31:35 GMT -5
Extra save, just in case
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 3, 2017 13:31:55 GMT -5
Another extra save, just in case
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 3, 2017 13:33:28 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 4, 2017 12:08:17 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 4, 2017 16:11:33 GMT -5
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Asexual
ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ
do you walk in the valley of kings? do you walk in the shadow of men who sold their lives to dream?
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Post by ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ on Jul 5, 2017 13:14:40 GMT -5
thanks for participating in the fic clash! c: very excited to see even more stories. anyways, your scores for the first three prompts are 6.5, 8, and 7.5, respectively. this brings your overall total to 22 points. please understand that i'm not giving out score breakdowns due to the sheer volume of entries i'm going to have to read. also, make sure you tag me every time you update a new prompt, and tell me which prompt has been updated. that way, i won't miss any entries, and your score won't be messed up because of that. good luck going forward! btw, one recommendation: make the font bigger and/or change it to a print and not a script font. unfortunately, pretty as they may be, script fonts are very hard on my eyes.  as it is, it's readable for me, but it's tougher than it should be. |
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 5, 2017 13:24:59 GMT -5
Okay! Thanks! And, I'll change the font for you, so it's easier to read. c;
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 5, 2017 13:48:31 GMT -5
Is it better now, ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ? |
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 5, 2017 19:15:00 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 6, 2017 17:55:32 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 7, 2017 12:14:04 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 9, 2017 17:27:25 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 10, 2017 20:55:17 GMT -5
I decided to skip prompt 8 for now, since I couldn't think of anything to write. So, prompt 9 is up! Oh, and, prompt 9 is related to prompt 7, too. ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ |
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 12, 2017 17:05:17 GMT -5
Prompt 12 is up! I can't write in order anymore @-@ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ |
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 13, 2017 11:11:53 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 16, 2017 20:17:12 GMT -5
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Post by Maplestone360 on Jul 26, 2017 20:32:31 GMT -5
Prompt 31 is up! o:' ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ |
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as it is, it's readable for me, but it's tougher than it should be.