Post by kinkajou on Jul 29, 2016 16:54:04 GMT -5
During my time on the forums I've written a few One-shots. So I decided to post them here too. They're posted in order, oldest to newest.
1 - Invisible
Featuring Mousewhisker, the background character of background characters. I tried to give him more personality, and motivation for his actions (such as joining the DF). It may not be completely accurate to the books, though.
Mousepaw felt invisible.
Nobody ever looked his way. Their eyes were all trained on others, special cats that deserved the attention. They were the heroes.
Firestar, who was one of the best ThunderClan leaders and saved all the Clans from destruction.
Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw, two cats that found a new home for them when the forest was destroyed.
Leafpool, a respected medicine cat who discovered a new way to communicate with StarClan, the Moonpool.
And Mousepaw? He was nothing. He never would be anything.
He would always be invisible.
-----
Mousepaw was hunting.
He was with his mentor Spiderleg, and his sister, Hazelpaw, and another apprentice, Hollypaw, and their mentors, Dustpelt and Brackenfur.
Mousepaw opened his mouth, drawing in all the scents he could. He caught the smell of mice, at least two of them. He closed his mouth and followed his nose to their hiding place. After a short while, he came to a bush. He could tell the mice were inside.
The gray and white apprentice crouched down, a couple of tail-lengths from the bush so the prey wouldn’t see him. He slowly and carefully took one small step forward, making sure to put his paws down as lightly as possible. He didn’t want the mice to know he was there.
Mousepaw took one front paw and slowly brought it near the bush. Then he quickly unsheathed his claws and brought in down through a gap in the branches near the top, onto the two mice. They squealed in fear.
He took his other forepaw and trapped the mice underneath both if them. After a little waiting, the prey stopped wiggling beneath them. He carefully brought his head through the bush, trying not to scratch it on any branches, and picked them up by their tails.
When Mousepaw got to the place they all agreed to meet, Hollypaw was already there, a large squirrel at her paws. She looked over at the two small mice he was holding. “Nice catch,” she told him.
“Thanks,” Mousepaw said. “You too. That's a huge squirrel!”
Hollypaw purred. “I guess it is.” She looked down at it. “I think I’ll give it to Ferncloud and her kits, and Daisy. It should be enough for all four of them.”
Mousepaw mewed his agreement. “Good idea.” What would mice this small be good for, though?
Mousepaw and Hollypaw waited for the others to come back. They did in a couple minutes.
He proudly pushed his mice toward them, but they were already all over Hollypaw's squirrel. Even his mentor. Only Hazelpaw glanced over at him.
“That’s great, Mousepaw!” she exclaimed. “Two mice! I only got one.”
“Oh, thanks,” Mousepaw mumbled. “Better luck next time.”
At least my sister noticed me, he thought. Then he sighed. But to everyone else I'm just invisible.
-----
Mousepaw finally became a warrior.
He was given the name Mousewhisker. Everyone cheered for him.
But there was something in their voices that didn't sound right.
It sounded more like they were just doing it to be polite, rather than they actually cared. Mousewhisker glanced at his littermates, Berrynose and Hazeltail. Neither of them seemed to notice.
After the ceremony, Mousewhisker's mother, Daisy, ran up to congratulate them. She kept telling them how proud she was and how much she loved them.
No one else did.
They all went back to whatever they were doing before. Only some looked his and his sister and brother's way.
They don’t even care, do they? But why should they? I’m just an ordinary cat, nothing special.
I don’t have some amazing destiny or prophecy.
I’m not going to save the Clans.
I’m not a hero.
I’m just invisible.
2 - Hatred
This was an entry for Tuseday Challenges. The prompt was something along the lines of "write about siblings fighting. Bonus points is neither of them are killed." It was also inspired by Starkit's Prophecy.
She was perfect.
No, not a good hunter. Not a good fighter. Not well-liked. Not kind and peaceful.
I mean perfect.
She was all those things, sure. All those and more.
She had a special, secret prophecy that she could only tell me about. She was “StarClan’s promise.” She had magical powers. She didn’t have a single flaw in appearance or personality. She was good at everything. Everybody loved her. Except me.
Actually, that isn’t true. I want to hate her. I should hate her.
But I don’t. I can’t.
-----
I used to “hate” her for reasons like being way to pretty, having powers, having the most annoyingly sweet voice ever.
Now I see how childish those reasons are.
See, I had a mate. He was a loner, so I had to keep him a secret. We still met every time we could, though.
One day we were having one of our meetings.
Then she showed up.
My mate and I had ended up play-fighting like kits. Nobody was actually getting hurt. It was all for fun.
But she, of course, misinterpreted it.
“Are you okay?” she yowled, running toward us.
We both looked up in surprise. Before either of us could move or explain, she leapt onto him, her long, overly-sharp claws unsheathed.
“Get away from my sister!” she growled, digging her claws into his pelt. I couldn't move. It was too sudden.
And then he was dead.
“Are you okay? How bad are you hurt?” She tried to lick me, but I pulled away.
“Go away,” I hissed, laying down beside my mate. She looked at me, a look of pure confusion in her eyes.
“But he attacked you-”
“I said go away!”
It was horrible. It was the worst thing she could do. I can’t even say her - or his - name because of it.
I should hate her. I really should. She murderd my mate for no reason. What other reason to hate her do I need?
But I can’t. No matter what, I can’t.
-----
She was seen as a hero for it.
Of course she was. She was a hero for everything. She was perfect, what would you expect?
“You saved us!” , “You rescued her!” they all said. From what? The sweetest cat there ever was?
I could not stand this.
I had to put an end to it. Nobody should be congratulated for killing my mate.
Not even someone perfect.
So one day I called her to a “meeting.” Away from anyone else. I couldn’t let them know, who knows what would happen to me if they did?
“So what is it?” she asked cheerfully as she bounded into the forest.
“Come with me,” I said, and went deeper in. I knew where it had to happen.
“Is this safe?” she asked, following me.
“Yes, don’t worry.”
We came to a certain place, that was perfect for what I wanted to do. It was far from the camp, and had a small rocky cliff with a loud waterfall tumbling over it.
“So what-” she began, but I pounced on her, digging my claws into her shoulders. Her screech was lost in the sound of the water.
“So what? So what?!” You’re super annoying! You have so many things you don’t deserve! You stole my friends!
You murdered my mate!
I was trembling. I wanted to say all those things. I wanted to scream them to her face. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to make her understand.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even tell her I hate her. That wouldn’t be true.
But I tried. I tried to say those things.
But the only words that came out of my mouth were, “I love you.”
3 - Memories
Also an entry for TC. This prompt was "write about a chase. Bonus points if it doesn't involve chasing prey." I was trying to work on using senses other than sight.
I’m always running.
You can’t see it. You can’t understand.
To you I look like some crazy loner, sitting in a cave all day.
But in reality, I’m running. Being chased.
Every moment of every day I’m chased by the past. It never stops. It just runs faster and faster, never slowing down no matter what I do. I do everything I can, but I know it’s no use. It never will of anything.
It will continue chasing me forever.
I run, I run as fast as I can. As I do, images fill my head. I try to break away from them, but they chase me. They catch me, and I relive every moment they bring.
Claws - my claws tear through a cat’s pelt. Blood flows around my paws. It feels…good. I’ve never felt this way before. I claw the cat again, his screech of pain like music to my ears. I dig my claws in deep, feeling the sticky blood-
I run. I don’t want to feel it! But it chases me, there’s nothing I can do. It catches me again.
A sharp, metallic smell fills my nose. Blood. I breathe in deeply, licking my lips. The scent of death was everywhere, no blade of grass, bush, or even cat left untainted. I loved it. It was better than the usual grassy smell of green-leaf. It was-
I run. I run so fast my physical legs hurt. I can almost feel wind blowing through my fur. The memory chases. And it wins. Again.
Screams call out from everywhere. Screeches of pain, cries of sorrow. Both beautiful sounds. They fill my ears as I fight against the cats, all shouting out their battle cries. The cat under me lets out the best kind of scream, the one when they are finally defeated, the last sound they ever make-
Stop it! I scream in my head, just like those cats. I can’t run anymore. I’m too exhausted. But I have to. I don’t want it to happen again.
I look around, seeing what I did. Cats lay on the ground, motionless. What little living relatives they have stand over them in sorrow. The lucky ones, that is. Most of them don’t have any. The ground is almost completely red, covered with blood. The sky was dark, a sign of disapproval, but I don’t care. I did it. They finally got what they deserved-
But they didn’t! They didn’t deserve it! My memories pay no attention to my cries. The cycle repeates.
I run. They chase. And they win.
Every time.
4 - A Single Promise
This was for Luna's Fanfiction Contest. To be honest, I just kinda made it up as I went along.
They made a promise. A promise they shouldn’t have ever made. A promise they would regret forever.
It started with her. The daring one. The fierce one. The fearless one.
Those seemed like good qualities to her. She saw herself as a future leader, never afraid to take on another cat.
She didn’t know they would lead to her downfall.
Now he was the thoughtful one. The gentle one. The careful one.
He saw himself as a follower. Her follower.
She expected to be his leader. He expected to be her follower.
They didn’t realize what would soon happen. They didn’t realize the weight of their promise. Not until it was too late.
------
It wasn’t a bad promise. No, what was bad was what came of it.
It was a game. A challenge. Made by her, of course.
“You promise?” she asked, her deep blue eyes looking directly into his, with their usual gleam of challenge and fierceness brighter than before.
And he, wanting to obey his soon-to-be leader, lifted his head a little higher and spoke the words he never should have even thought of, the words that would haunt him the rest of his life and after. “I promise.”
------
The game, as they called it, was simple.
It was just to try to act like the other for a day. Neither would ever think of what would happen.
They had trouble. That was to be expected. But they knew it would only last a day, and after that they could go back to being themselves.
But they were wrong.
They were just roaming around the forest, looking for something to do, when they heard some cats having a conversation. He, trying to be like her, suggested they spied on them. She liked to do that, and always dragged him into it.
“It was his destiny,” one cat said, sadness in her voice. “It was always meant to happen. Nothing we can do can change that.” The other cat just sniffed. Between her paws was a small white kitten, not moving at all.
She was mad about this. She had never believed in destiny. She thought she could change things, make them better.
“I can change it,” she said. “I would.”
But he was uncertain. “Are you sure?” he asked.
But instead of answering his question, and without a doubt her answer would have been “Yes”, she told him her idea to prove the cat wrong.
She shouldn’t have. Now she knows that. They both know that. Too bad they realized it after all the damage had been done.
She asked him again. “You promise?”
And again, his response was, “Yes.”
------
The promise almost was the same as the first.
Except this wasn’t a game. They would change themselves, everything about them. They would act the opposite of themselves. That couldn’t be part of their “destiny”, she reasoned.
This time, it would go on forever. Not just a day.
At first it was hard. Over time, though, they got better at it.
But it also got more serious.
He, as you know, was a gentle cat, kind to everyone, making sure they all had what they needed.
So the opposite of himself, his new self, was almost evil. Ruthless, horrible to everyone, greedy and taking everything for himself.
She would stop him. She was assertive, and could make anyone change their mind.
But she had to change also. She was timid, weak, could barely do anything, needed help with everything.
So he went on. It lasted for moons. Then he did something worse than he ever did.
He did uncountable horrible things. He stole prey from cats who needed it. He showed terrible disrespect for the Spirits. He destroyed cats’ homes, forcing them to find a new one.
He didn’t think it was good enough. He thought he had to do something worse.
He wasn’t someone who would think nothing’s goon enough, that he had to do something even more extreme. At least, not before the promise. He just had this feeling…This feeling telling him to do something. Something he never should have done.
He found a cat alone in the forest. Small, skinny, weak, and hungry. It would have reminded him of her, what she had become, if it was close to the beginning of all this. But by this time, he was too far gone. He barely even remember her, the cat who had been his best friend since they were kittens.
He crept up to the cat, keeping to the bushes and trees so he wouldn’t see him.
Then he flew out, claws unsheathed, at him.
It isn’t hard to guess what happened to the cat.
She was wandering the forest, not too far from there. She caught the scent of blood, and wondering what it was, followed it to him and the cat.
She never would have thought he would be able to do this, not even being the opposite of himself.
She knew she should stay back. She wasn’t supposed to be herself anymore. She was supposed to prove destiny wrong. Besides that, she was tired and starving.
But she couldn’t sit back. She had to do something.
If he could do something like this, she had to stop him, no matter what she was supposed to do.
So when he wasn’t expecting it, when he was about to leave, she did to him what he had done to the cat.
She regretted it. She regretted ever making the promise in the first place. She regretted everything that happened after.
There’s a lot more that can happen because of a single promise than she thought. And she regretted it.
5 - Sweet Dreams
Yet another TC entry. The prompt: "write a story about getting lost. Bonus points if that was the intention." This one would be better, but I was afraid it would go over the word limit, so I cut some things out (the thing I use doesn't show you how much letters you have).
My father died before I was born.
Right before it, in fact.
During the time my mother was in the nursery, we were at war with one of the other Clans. I didn’t know why, because I wasn’t born yet and whenever I asked my mother, she just suddenly turned quiet.
My father was one of the best, if not the best, warriors in our Clan. So of course, the leader sent him to fight. Mother wanted to go with him, but knew she would have her kit any minute. Before he left, though, she made him a promise.
“I don’t doubt you’ll come back,” she began, “but just in case, I just want you to know that I’ll raise our kit to be just like you.”
Sadly, he didn’t come back.
She wanted me to be exactly like him. So much that she was disappointed that I was a she-cat and looked more like her than him. She named me Spottedkit, after my tortoiseshell and white pelt.
At first she wasn’t a bad mother. She was just like all the other queens. But almost as soon as I was able to walk, that all changed.
She tried to teach me things only older apprentices should know. She was very harsh in her training, so much that some of it would even be a challenge for a warrior. I don’t know how she learned all that, unless one of her own parents was the same way. Maybe it was just the strength of how much she wanted me to be like my father.
Whenever I messed the smallest thing up, which should be expected of such a little kit, she punished me. She would claw or bite me, or insult me severely, sometimes saying I didn’t deserve to live or was an insult to my father, or not let me sleep in our nest, making me sit out in the cold.
I asked one of the other queens, Redflower, for help. She showed sympathy for me, agreeing that no mother should do that to their kit. But she said Mother was just grieving for her mate, and she would stop eventually. Even though it was rough, it wouldn’t last forever. She said that Mother still loved me.
But even as moons passed, it didn’t stop.
It was forever.
She obviously didn’t love me.
To her, I was just a failure.
------
When I became an apprentice, Mother requested my mentor, Runningstream. He was known to be rather harsh and aggressive, not liking kits or apprentices all that much. He wasn’t exactly fit for being a mentor. But she wanted to push me as hard as she could, and thought he was the best cat for the job.
I did my best in training, even though it was difficult. I wanted to be the best I could, then maybe Mother would like me.
After training, though, she always made me do more, acting as a second mentor. A lot of the times I came back exhausted, hardly able to stand. But she didn’t care. She just fought me harder.
I knew I couldn’t live like that. I had to get away somehow.
And the way I did was my dreams.
When it first got too hard, I practiced controlling my dreams every night. I had a place to escape, where no one would hurt me. I looked forward to sleeping every day, just to escape from the world.
It was perfect. At first.
------
I was just having one of my normal dreams, in a forest full of warm sunlight and soft grass and sweet-smelling flowers.
I was playing with a feather when I sensed something was wrong. I looked up from my game and noticed a figure, coming through the trees toward me.
I didn’t put that there, I thought. I tried to make it go away, but I couldn’t control it. What’s going on? What is it?
As it got closer, I could see it was a cat. I took a deep breath, and its scent told me it was a she-cat.
I jumped up. “Who are you? How did you get here?” Maybe this cat just wanted to hurt me, like everyone else. She wanted to ruin the one thing that made me happy.
She took a couple steps closer, but I hissed at her. “Stay there! Answer my questions!” I was shaking in fear, but I hoped my voice didn’t show it. I wanted to sound challenging, let her know she shouldn’t mess with me.
She listened. “I understand you must have a lot of questions.” Her voice was strange, it sounded distant, almost not real. “But you have to trust me. I can take you away from here.”
“What do you mean? I like it here.” I glanced up at the trees, brightly colored birds singing in the perfectly green leaves.
“Not here. I mean your home.”
“You mean…real life? Out side of the dream?” I asked. It didn’t sound possible. “Well…If I know I can trust you I just might.” Actually, I would do anything to get away from Mother and Runningstream, even if I didn’t know she was completely trustworthy, but I didn’t want to look desperate.
“You can trust me,” she said. “I’m the reason you can do this. Create your own dream. Escape.”
“You are?” I assumed she nodded, she was still too far away to see well. I could just feel it. “Then in that case…I can come. For a while.”
She came closer, and this time I let her. I could see she had long, dark gray tabby fur, and bright, pale green eyes.
She was honestly beautiful.
“Not for a while,” she whispered. “If you agree, you will not be able to go back.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure if I should go. Sure, it was horrible out of the dream, but what if she led me somewhere even worse?
And if I went, does that mean I would die in real life?
Well, it was worth the try.
“I’ll come,” I said. She smiled and nodded, leading me away through the trees.
------
It was beautiful. Perfect and beautiful.
It was full of forests and meadows and rivers and lakes and mountains.
Everything was brightly colored. Every animal and cat seemed happy.
But I couldn’t stop a certain feeling.
A feeling that I was lost. That I didn’t belong here.
I had been in the she-cat’s world for about a moon. I loved it. I didn’t know why it felt so wrong, it was much better than my life before.
I kept telling myself that. All it did is make me feel more lost, and almost…lonely somehow.
There were other cats there. They were all very kind. They wouldn’t do anything bad to me.
So why did I feel that way? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure it out.
Was I missing my mother? Why would I?
I wanted to be lost. Shouldn’t I be happy?
More days passed. More moons. Eventually years passed.
I couldn’t get rid of the feeling. But I couldn’t return to where I really belonged either.
I would be lost forever.
6 - Why Not?
Another TC entry! The prompt was something about an unwillingly given sacrifice or something, I think. I like this one.
The freezing night air seemed to slice through Splashstream’s pelt like icy claws. The moon shone dimly in the sky, and only a few stray stars glittered coldly in the almost endless darkness.
The trees’ long, bony branches reached toward the sky, as if they were trying to grab the faint light away for themselves. Their leaves had all fallen off quite some time ago, giving them a dead, ghostly appearance.
Still, the she-cat trekked on. She had a very important mission, and couldn’t waste any time.
A sudden sharp wind cut through her pale gray fur, causing her to stumble and almost drop the little blue-gray ball of fur in her jaws. She stopped herself just in time. The kitten was crying and shivering, begging for food and warmth.
“Almost, my little Skykit,” Splashstream whispered to her. “Almost.”
The kit couldn’t have understood what she meant. Skykit was only a few weeks old, how could she have? But her mewls became quieter, as if she did.
Splashstream smiled at her. “You’re very smart, aren’t you?” Then, glancing behind her to make sure no one was following her, she started running through the dark forest again.
She was close. She could hear the waves crashing onto the sand. The hard ground beneath her paws started turning softer. Up ahead, she could see an opening in the trees, and the beach behind it.
If she could make it, they would be safe.
Splashstream made it to the sand. The waves were bigger than she thought, which was understandable since it was such a windy day. Why didn’t she think of that? How would she carry Skykit across?
“It’s okay,” she told her kit. “The island’s not very far. We’ll make it somehow.”
“No you won’t.” Splashstream whirled around. Stepping out of the trees was a large dark ginger tabby tom with glaring green eyes. She recognized him as the deputy, Emberstrike. Behind him was a whole patrol of cats, each with unsheathed claws and narrow eyes. She crouched and stepped back in fear.
“How did you…know where I was going?” She managed to say, voice muffled by the kit. Skykit was now crying loudly again, having no idea of what was happening.
“We knew you would try to hide here,” hissed a black she-cat, almost invisible in the darkness if not for her glowing yellow eyes. “Did you really think we didn’t know about the ‘secret’ island you’re always sneaking off to?”
Why didn’t she try to hide more whenever she left? She couldn’t answer, only crouch closer to the ground. They all must have thought she looked like a coward. Well, she was, wasn’t she? What made her think she could protect Skykit against them, ruthless and fearless warriors?
Emberstrike stepped forward. “Give us the kit,” he snarled, spitting out the word “kit” as if it was crowfood. “We need it for the sacrifice. And we aren’t afraid to fight for it.”
Splashstream shook her head. “No…I-I won’t let you take her. Especially for that sick sacrifice of your’s.”
“We took you in and gave you a home, and this is how you repay us?” a white warrior called from the back, anger in his voice.
“What? You didn’t that! You kidnapped me!” Splashstream cried. Skykit almost fell, but she caught her just in time. She realized what she had just done. Talking back to an older warrior? I didn’t know I was brave enough to do that! And what will they do to me now?
The orange tabby sniffed. “Ungrateful mouse.” He stalked toward her, bone-white claws glinting in the pale moonlight. The other cats followed behind. With each step they took, Splashstream took one back. Suddenly Emberstrike leapt toward her, causing her to fall back in surprise and yelp. Skykit was thrown away from her, landing a couple tail-lengths away.
“Skykit!” Splashstream tried to get up, but Emberstrike pressed a paw down on her. His sharp claws dug into her skin.
“Cloudstripe,” he said, turning his head over to look at the black-and-white she-cat. “Go get it.” She nodded, and started to walk toward Skykit.
“No!” Splashstream yowled, struggling to get up. How was he so strong?
“We have to do this, you know,” he said to her, eyes staring into her’s. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. “The first kit born in each season must be sacrificed to the Spirits.”
“But why?” she asked. “It’s awful!”
“Because that’s what they want,” he replied. “This is how it always has been.”
“What kind of cruel Spirits would want-”
She was cut off by Emberstrike slamming his other paw on her mouth. “No more questions!”
Meanwhile, Cloudstripe had picked up Skykit, who was squirming and wailing. Splashstream tried her hardest to get up, but was unable to. She could only watch helplessly as the warrior carried her kit to the water and dropped her in.
Skykit! she tried to scream. Cloudstripe kept her paws on Skykit’s blue-gray head, not letting her get up for air. After a while she stood up.
“It’s done,” she said, no emotion in her voice.
Splashstream felt like her heart had stopped. No! She wanted to do something, anything to help her kit.
But it was already done. Skykit was gone. And she didn’t - couldn’t - do anything to help.
Why didn’t she protect her better? Why wasn’t she strong enough to fight for her? Why couldn’t the Spirits spare at least one kit?
Why not?
7 - Worst Nightmare
This was originally for TC, but I missed the due date. The prompt was "Write a story about a nightmare. Bonus points if it isn’t an omen/prophecy." It's just kinda a cute little story. Cool down after that last one, lol.
“What’s your worst nightmare?”
The question caught me off guard. I blinked twice quickly, and my tail curled itself around my paws, a couple of habits of mine. “What do you mean?” I asked, tilting my head slightly.
He looked down, seeming a bit embarrassed. “You know…the worst thing that could ever happen to you.” He looked back at me and added, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I understand if it’s a personal question.“ I just had to look in his warm, understanding eyes to know he really meant it. “I won't make you do anything you don't want to.”
“No, it’s okay,” I assured him. “It’s just that you never really asked anything like that before.”
He nodded. “I know. I just want to know because, well, I want to protect you from anything that would scare or hurt you…” His ears fell, and his eyes filled with sadness. He looked away, as if he didn’t want me to see. If just thinking about it made him feel that way, I couldn’t even imagine how he would react if it actually happened. And knowing that he felt that, just for me…It felt amazing, knowing how much he loved me, what he would do for me. I don’t think anyone else has ever cared about me that much.
I moved over until I was leaning against him, his warm, soft fur blending together with mine. He licked one of my ears, amusement sparkling his eyes. You do such a great job at that already, I thought. “Thank you,” I said, then thought back to the question. I wanted to tell him what it was, I really did, but there was something stopping me. A feeling of such strong sadness I couldn't say it out loud, could barely even think it, without bursting into uncontrollable tears. "I-I think it would be, ummm…” What sounded like something lots of cats would be afraid of? “...Dying, I think.”
He put one paw on mine. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” He tilted his head for a second, our ears brushing. His emerald eyes were full of love, his tone to truthful…
I felt a painful stab of guilt and regret, so strong I almost clasped on the ground. I knew he really believed me.
But I lied.
That isn’t actually true, I thought. My worst nightmare would be losing you.
8 - A Family Secret
This is a one-shot that takes place before my fanfiction. It's about a cat that will show up later, Spring, and the medicine cat of the main Clan, Streamleaf. It's for the Lake House prompt contest, the prompt being "Write a story about a secret. Bonus point if it’s kept at all costs"
She was alone.
The cool early morning breeze ruffled the silver tabby’s pelt. Dew glistened on the long grass, mimicking the millions of stars that had lit up the sky not too long ago.
Her whiskers twitched, sensing the arrival of another cat. A slender she-cat, build and color almost identical to her own, silently approached her.
“Hi, Streampaw. Nice to see you again,” she mewed, her voice as soft as the breeze. “How have you been? How’s your Clan?”
“Hello you you, too, Spring,” she replied, voice equally as quiet. “I am well, as is BlossomClan. How has life been for you and the barn cats?”
“It’s good,” Spring said. “A new litter of kits was born a few days ago.”
“That’s good to hear. Kits are always a blessing,” Streampaw meowed. “Whether they’re born into a Clan or not.”
A cloud passed over the sun, it’s shadow falling over the two cats.
“I should go now,” Streampaw whispered. “Honeywing will be expecting me.”
Spring nodded. “Yeah. My cats might notice I’m gone.”
The BlossomClan apprentice dipped her head. “Farewell, sister. I hope to see you again soon.”
“So do I,” Spring said. “Bye, Streampaw.”
The two she-cats went their separate ways.
---
They did not know it, but they weren’t alone.
Hidden in the dark shadows of the trees, two bright yellow eyes watched. They watched as two silver tabby she-cats walked up to each other. They watched as they talked with each other. They watched as they left in separate directions, one to the home of the barn cats and one to the home of the Clans.
A large cat crept out of the trees. At first glance her dark colored fur would look black, but in the light of the morning sun, one could see that it was dark brown. She sniffed the spot the cats were standing. Yes, she did not imagine things - there was the clear scent of both barn and Clan.
Her gaze turned toward the direction of the barn cats’ main camp. That she-cat was up to something, and she could easily guess what.
---
“Spring,” growled a voice from behind her.
“Huh?” She whirled around. In front of her was Swift, looking eerily calm for all the burning anger in her piercing yellow eyes. Yep, she was definitely mad at her - and you did not want to be the cat who made Swift mad. “I - I’m sorry, what did I do?”
“Would you care to explain,” the dark brown cat hissed softly, “what you were doing with a BlossomClan cat?”
How could she know? Spring opened her mouth to ask this, then snapped it shut. She couldn’t admit she was with a Clan cat, could she? She certainly couldn’t admit that she wasn’t a full non-Clan cat like everyone thought, that she had a BlossomClan sister and mother.
That she was the product of a short-loved forbidden relationship, of two cats who now wanted nothing to do with each other.
“You must have been seeing things,” she wanted to say. She wanted to come up with a clever excuse to convince Swift that was true. But when she opened her mouth, no words came out.
The old, battle-scarred she-cat’s tail lashed. “Furthermore, why did this cat so much resemble you? Is there something you’d like to say?” Her eyes flashed in the sunlight. “Something that might involve your father and supposedly dead mother?”
Spring felt sick. Here Swift was, figuring out all the secrets and lies in her life.
“I think this might be something the whole barn might want to know, don’t you?” she continued.
“You - you’re not telling them anything,” Spring growled, trying to sound threatening despite her fear. She couldn't let her do this.
“Oh no?” Swift purred. “I think I just might. I’ll just call Alexis over here - ”
“No!” Spring stopped thinking, her instincts taking over. Without realizing it, she lunged at Swift with her sharp claws unsheathed.
The brown tabby didn’t see it coming. She didn’t even notice for a few seconds that she was bleeding from a gash in her throat. She screamed, but no sound came out.
Spring came back to her senses. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw what she had done to Swift. “Oh no…I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened!” she meowed frantically, panicking. “Here, I’ll get Fasha. She’ll know what to do.” Spring dashed off to the old barn the cats called their home.
“Fasha!” she called, running into it. “Please come quickly! Swift is badly hurt!”
The light ginger she-cat quickly leapt down from the old bale of hay she had been resting on, and other cats pricked their ears and stared at her in alarm. “What? How - ” She froze, noticing the blood on Spring’s paws.
“Wha - Oh, the blood? I…was trying to stop the bleeding. Yeah.” Spring hoped Fasha would believe her. She never had been the best lier.
It didn’t look like it. But this wasn’t the time for standing around bickering. “What kind of injury does she have?”
“A deep cut in her throat,” Spring answered. Fasha nodded and turned, running to the back of the barn where she kept the herbs.
She quickly returned, clutching a bundle of leafy green plants and cobwebs. “Take me to Swift,” she ordered.
“Okay.” Spring dashed out of the barn, leaving the group of shocked, whispering cats behind. She stopped at a spot a little way out of their main camp, where a dark brown cat was on the ground, surrounded by red.
Fasha got to work on healing her right away. Spring looked away, not wanting to see the damage she had done.
“Let’s take her back to the barn,” Fasha said once she did all she could. Spring nodded, and helped the ginger she-cat carry her.
---
After Spring’s attack, Swift had become mute, unable to tell anyone of the silver cat’s secret. Spring avoided her as much as she could, both out of guilt and the fact that she glared at her whenever she saw her, pure hatred in her eyes.
Swift died a few moons later. The cats all mourned the oldest member of their group, and comforted Fasha when she felt guilty for not being able to save her.
Spring mostly kept to herself after that, even quitting her secret meetings with her sister. Her BlossomClan sister.
The thing everyone knew was that Swift was dead. What they did not know was that Spring’s secret about her Clan blood and kinship to Streampaw died with her.
---
And that's it! I hope you enjoyed them c:
Tips to get better are welcome! Also, if you spot a mistake, tell me and I'll fix it.
1 - Invisible
Featuring Mousewhisker, the background character of background characters. I tried to give him more personality, and motivation for his actions (such as joining the DF). It may not be completely accurate to the books, though.
Mousepaw felt invisible.
Nobody ever looked his way. Their eyes were all trained on others, special cats that deserved the attention. They were the heroes.
Firestar, who was one of the best ThunderClan leaders and saved all the Clans from destruction.
Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw, two cats that found a new home for them when the forest was destroyed.
Leafpool, a respected medicine cat who discovered a new way to communicate with StarClan, the Moonpool.
And Mousepaw? He was nothing. He never would be anything.
He would always be invisible.
-----
Mousepaw was hunting.
He was with his mentor Spiderleg, and his sister, Hazelpaw, and another apprentice, Hollypaw, and their mentors, Dustpelt and Brackenfur.
Mousepaw opened his mouth, drawing in all the scents he could. He caught the smell of mice, at least two of them. He closed his mouth and followed his nose to their hiding place. After a short while, he came to a bush. He could tell the mice were inside.
The gray and white apprentice crouched down, a couple of tail-lengths from the bush so the prey wouldn’t see him. He slowly and carefully took one small step forward, making sure to put his paws down as lightly as possible. He didn’t want the mice to know he was there.
Mousepaw took one front paw and slowly brought it near the bush. Then he quickly unsheathed his claws and brought in down through a gap in the branches near the top, onto the two mice. They squealed in fear.
He took his other forepaw and trapped the mice underneath both if them. After a little waiting, the prey stopped wiggling beneath them. He carefully brought his head through the bush, trying not to scratch it on any branches, and picked them up by their tails.
When Mousepaw got to the place they all agreed to meet, Hollypaw was already there, a large squirrel at her paws. She looked over at the two small mice he was holding. “Nice catch,” she told him.
“Thanks,” Mousepaw said. “You too. That's a huge squirrel!”
Hollypaw purred. “I guess it is.” She looked down at it. “I think I’ll give it to Ferncloud and her kits, and Daisy. It should be enough for all four of them.”
Mousepaw mewed his agreement. “Good idea.” What would mice this small be good for, though?
Mousepaw and Hollypaw waited for the others to come back. They did in a couple minutes.
He proudly pushed his mice toward them, but they were already all over Hollypaw's squirrel. Even his mentor. Only Hazelpaw glanced over at him.
“That’s great, Mousepaw!” she exclaimed. “Two mice! I only got one.”
“Oh, thanks,” Mousepaw mumbled. “Better luck next time.”
At least my sister noticed me, he thought. Then he sighed. But to everyone else I'm just invisible.
-----
Mousepaw finally became a warrior.
He was given the name Mousewhisker. Everyone cheered for him.
But there was something in their voices that didn't sound right.
It sounded more like they were just doing it to be polite, rather than they actually cared. Mousewhisker glanced at his littermates, Berrynose and Hazeltail. Neither of them seemed to notice.
After the ceremony, Mousewhisker's mother, Daisy, ran up to congratulate them. She kept telling them how proud she was and how much she loved them.
No one else did.
They all went back to whatever they were doing before. Only some looked his and his sister and brother's way.
They don’t even care, do they? But why should they? I’m just an ordinary cat, nothing special.
I don’t have some amazing destiny or prophecy.
I’m not going to save the Clans.
I’m not a hero.
I’m just invisible.
2 - Hatred
This was an entry for Tuseday Challenges. The prompt was something along the lines of "write about siblings fighting. Bonus points is neither of them are killed." It was also inspired by Starkit's Prophecy.
She was perfect.
No, not a good hunter. Not a good fighter. Not well-liked. Not kind and peaceful.
I mean perfect.
She was all those things, sure. All those and more.
She had a special, secret prophecy that she could only tell me about. She was “StarClan’s promise.” She had magical powers. She didn’t have a single flaw in appearance or personality. She was good at everything. Everybody loved her. Except me.
Actually, that isn’t true. I want to hate her. I should hate her.
But I don’t. I can’t.
-----
I used to “hate” her for reasons like being way to pretty, having powers, having the most annoyingly sweet voice ever.
Now I see how childish those reasons are.
See, I had a mate. He was a loner, so I had to keep him a secret. We still met every time we could, though.
One day we were having one of our meetings.
Then she showed up.
My mate and I had ended up play-fighting like kits. Nobody was actually getting hurt. It was all for fun.
But she, of course, misinterpreted it.
“Are you okay?” she yowled, running toward us.
We both looked up in surprise. Before either of us could move or explain, she leapt onto him, her long, overly-sharp claws unsheathed.
“Get away from my sister!” she growled, digging her claws into his pelt. I couldn't move. It was too sudden.
And then he was dead.
“Are you okay? How bad are you hurt?” She tried to lick me, but I pulled away.
“Go away,” I hissed, laying down beside my mate. She looked at me, a look of pure confusion in her eyes.
“But he attacked you-”
“I said go away!”
It was horrible. It was the worst thing she could do. I can’t even say her - or his - name because of it.
I should hate her. I really should. She murderd my mate for no reason. What other reason to hate her do I need?
But I can’t. No matter what, I can’t.
-----
She was seen as a hero for it.
Of course she was. She was a hero for everything. She was perfect, what would you expect?
“You saved us!” , “You rescued her!” they all said. From what? The sweetest cat there ever was?
I could not stand this.
I had to put an end to it. Nobody should be congratulated for killing my mate.
Not even someone perfect.
So one day I called her to a “meeting.” Away from anyone else. I couldn’t let them know, who knows what would happen to me if they did?
“So what is it?” she asked cheerfully as she bounded into the forest.
“Come with me,” I said, and went deeper in. I knew where it had to happen.
“Is this safe?” she asked, following me.
“Yes, don’t worry.”
We came to a certain place, that was perfect for what I wanted to do. It was far from the camp, and had a small rocky cliff with a loud waterfall tumbling over it.
“So what-” she began, but I pounced on her, digging my claws into her shoulders. Her screech was lost in the sound of the water.
“So what? So what?!” You’re super annoying! You have so many things you don’t deserve! You stole my friends!
You murdered my mate!
I was trembling. I wanted to say all those things. I wanted to scream them to her face. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to make her understand.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even tell her I hate her. That wouldn’t be true.
But I tried. I tried to say those things.
But the only words that came out of my mouth were, “I love you.”
3 - Memories
Also an entry for TC. This prompt was "write about a chase. Bonus points if it doesn't involve chasing prey." I was trying to work on using senses other than sight.
I’m always running.
You can’t see it. You can’t understand.
To you I look like some crazy loner, sitting in a cave all day.
But in reality, I’m running. Being chased.
Every moment of every day I’m chased by the past. It never stops. It just runs faster and faster, never slowing down no matter what I do. I do everything I can, but I know it’s no use. It never will of anything.
It will continue chasing me forever.
I run, I run as fast as I can. As I do, images fill my head. I try to break away from them, but they chase me. They catch me, and I relive every moment they bring.
Claws - my claws tear through a cat’s pelt. Blood flows around my paws. It feels…good. I’ve never felt this way before. I claw the cat again, his screech of pain like music to my ears. I dig my claws in deep, feeling the sticky blood-
I run. I don’t want to feel it! But it chases me, there’s nothing I can do. It catches me again.
A sharp, metallic smell fills my nose. Blood. I breathe in deeply, licking my lips. The scent of death was everywhere, no blade of grass, bush, or even cat left untainted. I loved it. It was better than the usual grassy smell of green-leaf. It was-
I run. I run so fast my physical legs hurt. I can almost feel wind blowing through my fur. The memory chases. And it wins. Again.
Screams call out from everywhere. Screeches of pain, cries of sorrow. Both beautiful sounds. They fill my ears as I fight against the cats, all shouting out their battle cries. The cat under me lets out the best kind of scream, the one when they are finally defeated, the last sound they ever make-
Stop it! I scream in my head, just like those cats. I can’t run anymore. I’m too exhausted. But I have to. I don’t want it to happen again.
I look around, seeing what I did. Cats lay on the ground, motionless. What little living relatives they have stand over them in sorrow. The lucky ones, that is. Most of them don’t have any. The ground is almost completely red, covered with blood. The sky was dark, a sign of disapproval, but I don’t care. I did it. They finally got what they deserved-
But they didn’t! They didn’t deserve it! My memories pay no attention to my cries. The cycle repeates.
I run. They chase. And they win.
Every time.
4 - A Single Promise
This was for Luna's Fanfiction Contest. To be honest, I just kinda made it up as I went along.
They made a promise. A promise they shouldn’t have ever made. A promise they would regret forever.
It started with her. The daring one. The fierce one. The fearless one.
Those seemed like good qualities to her. She saw herself as a future leader, never afraid to take on another cat.
She didn’t know they would lead to her downfall.
Now he was the thoughtful one. The gentle one. The careful one.
He saw himself as a follower. Her follower.
She expected to be his leader. He expected to be her follower.
They didn’t realize what would soon happen. They didn’t realize the weight of their promise. Not until it was too late.
------
It wasn’t a bad promise. No, what was bad was what came of it.
It was a game. A challenge. Made by her, of course.
“You promise?” she asked, her deep blue eyes looking directly into his, with their usual gleam of challenge and fierceness brighter than before.
And he, wanting to obey his soon-to-be leader, lifted his head a little higher and spoke the words he never should have even thought of, the words that would haunt him the rest of his life and after. “I promise.”
------
The game, as they called it, was simple.
It was just to try to act like the other for a day. Neither would ever think of what would happen.
They had trouble. That was to be expected. But they knew it would only last a day, and after that they could go back to being themselves.
But they were wrong.
They were just roaming around the forest, looking for something to do, when they heard some cats having a conversation. He, trying to be like her, suggested they spied on them. She liked to do that, and always dragged him into it.
“It was his destiny,” one cat said, sadness in her voice. “It was always meant to happen. Nothing we can do can change that.” The other cat just sniffed. Between her paws was a small white kitten, not moving at all.
She was mad about this. She had never believed in destiny. She thought she could change things, make them better.
“I can change it,” she said. “I would.”
But he was uncertain. “Are you sure?” he asked.
But instead of answering his question, and without a doubt her answer would have been “Yes”, she told him her idea to prove the cat wrong.
She shouldn’t have. Now she knows that. They both know that. Too bad they realized it after all the damage had been done.
She asked him again. “You promise?”
And again, his response was, “Yes.”
------
The promise almost was the same as the first.
Except this wasn’t a game. They would change themselves, everything about them. They would act the opposite of themselves. That couldn’t be part of their “destiny”, she reasoned.
This time, it would go on forever. Not just a day.
At first it was hard. Over time, though, they got better at it.
But it also got more serious.
He, as you know, was a gentle cat, kind to everyone, making sure they all had what they needed.
So the opposite of himself, his new self, was almost evil. Ruthless, horrible to everyone, greedy and taking everything for himself.
She would stop him. She was assertive, and could make anyone change their mind.
But she had to change also. She was timid, weak, could barely do anything, needed help with everything.
So he went on. It lasted for moons. Then he did something worse than he ever did.
He did uncountable horrible things. He stole prey from cats who needed it. He showed terrible disrespect for the Spirits. He destroyed cats’ homes, forcing them to find a new one.
He didn’t think it was good enough. He thought he had to do something worse.
He wasn’t someone who would think nothing’s goon enough, that he had to do something even more extreme. At least, not before the promise. He just had this feeling…This feeling telling him to do something. Something he never should have done.
He found a cat alone in the forest. Small, skinny, weak, and hungry. It would have reminded him of her, what she had become, if it was close to the beginning of all this. But by this time, he was too far gone. He barely even remember her, the cat who had been his best friend since they were kittens.
He crept up to the cat, keeping to the bushes and trees so he wouldn’t see him.
Then he flew out, claws unsheathed, at him.
It isn’t hard to guess what happened to the cat.
She was wandering the forest, not too far from there. She caught the scent of blood, and wondering what it was, followed it to him and the cat.
She never would have thought he would be able to do this, not even being the opposite of himself.
She knew she should stay back. She wasn’t supposed to be herself anymore. She was supposed to prove destiny wrong. Besides that, she was tired and starving.
But she couldn’t sit back. She had to do something.
If he could do something like this, she had to stop him, no matter what she was supposed to do.
So when he wasn’t expecting it, when he was about to leave, she did to him what he had done to the cat.
She regretted it. She regretted ever making the promise in the first place. She regretted everything that happened after.
There’s a lot more that can happen because of a single promise than she thought. And she regretted it.
5 - Sweet Dreams
Yet another TC entry. The prompt: "write a story about getting lost. Bonus points if that was the intention." This one would be better, but I was afraid it would go over the word limit, so I cut some things out (the thing I use doesn't show you how much letters you have).
My father died before I was born.
Right before it, in fact.
During the time my mother was in the nursery, we were at war with one of the other Clans. I didn’t know why, because I wasn’t born yet and whenever I asked my mother, she just suddenly turned quiet.
My father was one of the best, if not the best, warriors in our Clan. So of course, the leader sent him to fight. Mother wanted to go with him, but knew she would have her kit any minute. Before he left, though, she made him a promise.
“I don’t doubt you’ll come back,” she began, “but just in case, I just want you to know that I’ll raise our kit to be just like you.”
Sadly, he didn’t come back.
She wanted me to be exactly like him. So much that she was disappointed that I was a she-cat and looked more like her than him. She named me Spottedkit, after my tortoiseshell and white pelt.
At first she wasn’t a bad mother. She was just like all the other queens. But almost as soon as I was able to walk, that all changed.
She tried to teach me things only older apprentices should know. She was very harsh in her training, so much that some of it would even be a challenge for a warrior. I don’t know how she learned all that, unless one of her own parents was the same way. Maybe it was just the strength of how much she wanted me to be like my father.
Whenever I messed the smallest thing up, which should be expected of such a little kit, she punished me. She would claw or bite me, or insult me severely, sometimes saying I didn’t deserve to live or was an insult to my father, or not let me sleep in our nest, making me sit out in the cold.
I asked one of the other queens, Redflower, for help. She showed sympathy for me, agreeing that no mother should do that to their kit. But she said Mother was just grieving for her mate, and she would stop eventually. Even though it was rough, it wouldn’t last forever. She said that Mother still loved me.
But even as moons passed, it didn’t stop.
It was forever.
She obviously didn’t love me.
To her, I was just a failure.
------
When I became an apprentice, Mother requested my mentor, Runningstream. He was known to be rather harsh and aggressive, not liking kits or apprentices all that much. He wasn’t exactly fit for being a mentor. But she wanted to push me as hard as she could, and thought he was the best cat for the job.
I did my best in training, even though it was difficult. I wanted to be the best I could, then maybe Mother would like me.
After training, though, she always made me do more, acting as a second mentor. A lot of the times I came back exhausted, hardly able to stand. But she didn’t care. She just fought me harder.
I knew I couldn’t live like that. I had to get away somehow.
And the way I did was my dreams.
When it first got too hard, I practiced controlling my dreams every night. I had a place to escape, where no one would hurt me. I looked forward to sleeping every day, just to escape from the world.
It was perfect. At first.
------
I was just having one of my normal dreams, in a forest full of warm sunlight and soft grass and sweet-smelling flowers.
I was playing with a feather when I sensed something was wrong. I looked up from my game and noticed a figure, coming through the trees toward me.
I didn’t put that there, I thought. I tried to make it go away, but I couldn’t control it. What’s going on? What is it?
As it got closer, I could see it was a cat. I took a deep breath, and its scent told me it was a she-cat.
I jumped up. “Who are you? How did you get here?” Maybe this cat just wanted to hurt me, like everyone else. She wanted to ruin the one thing that made me happy.
She took a couple steps closer, but I hissed at her. “Stay there! Answer my questions!” I was shaking in fear, but I hoped my voice didn’t show it. I wanted to sound challenging, let her know she shouldn’t mess with me.
She listened. “I understand you must have a lot of questions.” Her voice was strange, it sounded distant, almost not real. “But you have to trust me. I can take you away from here.”
“What do you mean? I like it here.” I glanced up at the trees, brightly colored birds singing in the perfectly green leaves.
“Not here. I mean your home.”
“You mean…real life? Out side of the dream?” I asked. It didn’t sound possible. “Well…If I know I can trust you I just might.” Actually, I would do anything to get away from Mother and Runningstream, even if I didn’t know she was completely trustworthy, but I didn’t want to look desperate.
“You can trust me,” she said. “I’m the reason you can do this. Create your own dream. Escape.”
“You are?” I assumed she nodded, she was still too far away to see well. I could just feel it. “Then in that case…I can come. For a while.”
She came closer, and this time I let her. I could see she had long, dark gray tabby fur, and bright, pale green eyes.
She was honestly beautiful.
“Not for a while,” she whispered. “If you agree, you will not be able to go back.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure if I should go. Sure, it was horrible out of the dream, but what if she led me somewhere even worse?
And if I went, does that mean I would die in real life?
Well, it was worth the try.
“I’ll come,” I said. She smiled and nodded, leading me away through the trees.
------
It was beautiful. Perfect and beautiful.
It was full of forests and meadows and rivers and lakes and mountains.
Everything was brightly colored. Every animal and cat seemed happy.
But I couldn’t stop a certain feeling.
A feeling that I was lost. That I didn’t belong here.
I had been in the she-cat’s world for about a moon. I loved it. I didn’t know why it felt so wrong, it was much better than my life before.
I kept telling myself that. All it did is make me feel more lost, and almost…lonely somehow.
There were other cats there. They were all very kind. They wouldn’t do anything bad to me.
So why did I feel that way? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure it out.
Was I missing my mother? Why would I?
I wanted to be lost. Shouldn’t I be happy?
More days passed. More moons. Eventually years passed.
I couldn’t get rid of the feeling. But I couldn’t return to where I really belonged either.
I would be lost forever.
6 - Why Not?
Another TC entry! The prompt was something about an unwillingly given sacrifice or something, I think. I like this one.
The freezing night air seemed to slice through Splashstream’s pelt like icy claws. The moon shone dimly in the sky, and only a few stray stars glittered coldly in the almost endless darkness.
The trees’ long, bony branches reached toward the sky, as if they were trying to grab the faint light away for themselves. Their leaves had all fallen off quite some time ago, giving them a dead, ghostly appearance.
Still, the she-cat trekked on. She had a very important mission, and couldn’t waste any time.
A sudden sharp wind cut through her pale gray fur, causing her to stumble and almost drop the little blue-gray ball of fur in her jaws. She stopped herself just in time. The kitten was crying and shivering, begging for food and warmth.
“Almost, my little Skykit,” Splashstream whispered to her. “Almost.”
The kit couldn’t have understood what she meant. Skykit was only a few weeks old, how could she have? But her mewls became quieter, as if she did.
Splashstream smiled at her. “You’re very smart, aren’t you?” Then, glancing behind her to make sure no one was following her, she started running through the dark forest again.
She was close. She could hear the waves crashing onto the sand. The hard ground beneath her paws started turning softer. Up ahead, she could see an opening in the trees, and the beach behind it.
If she could make it, they would be safe.
Splashstream made it to the sand. The waves were bigger than she thought, which was understandable since it was such a windy day. Why didn’t she think of that? How would she carry Skykit across?
“It’s okay,” she told her kit. “The island’s not very far. We’ll make it somehow.”
“No you won’t.” Splashstream whirled around. Stepping out of the trees was a large dark ginger tabby tom with glaring green eyes. She recognized him as the deputy, Emberstrike. Behind him was a whole patrol of cats, each with unsheathed claws and narrow eyes. She crouched and stepped back in fear.
“How did you…know where I was going?” She managed to say, voice muffled by the kit. Skykit was now crying loudly again, having no idea of what was happening.
“We knew you would try to hide here,” hissed a black she-cat, almost invisible in the darkness if not for her glowing yellow eyes. “Did you really think we didn’t know about the ‘secret’ island you’re always sneaking off to?”
Why didn’t she try to hide more whenever she left? She couldn’t answer, only crouch closer to the ground. They all must have thought she looked like a coward. Well, she was, wasn’t she? What made her think she could protect Skykit against them, ruthless and fearless warriors?
Emberstrike stepped forward. “Give us the kit,” he snarled, spitting out the word “kit” as if it was crowfood. “We need it for the sacrifice. And we aren’t afraid to fight for it.”
Splashstream shook her head. “No…I-I won’t let you take her. Especially for that sick sacrifice of your’s.”
“We took you in and gave you a home, and this is how you repay us?” a white warrior called from the back, anger in his voice.
“What? You didn’t that! You kidnapped me!” Splashstream cried. Skykit almost fell, but she caught her just in time. She realized what she had just done. Talking back to an older warrior? I didn’t know I was brave enough to do that! And what will they do to me now?
The orange tabby sniffed. “Ungrateful mouse.” He stalked toward her, bone-white claws glinting in the pale moonlight. The other cats followed behind. With each step they took, Splashstream took one back. Suddenly Emberstrike leapt toward her, causing her to fall back in surprise and yelp. Skykit was thrown away from her, landing a couple tail-lengths away.
“Skykit!” Splashstream tried to get up, but Emberstrike pressed a paw down on her. His sharp claws dug into her skin.
“Cloudstripe,” he said, turning his head over to look at the black-and-white she-cat. “Go get it.” She nodded, and started to walk toward Skykit.
“No!” Splashstream yowled, struggling to get up. How was he so strong?
“We have to do this, you know,” he said to her, eyes staring into her’s. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. “The first kit born in each season must be sacrificed to the Spirits.”
“But why?” she asked. “It’s awful!”
“Because that’s what they want,” he replied. “This is how it always has been.”
“What kind of cruel Spirits would want-”
She was cut off by Emberstrike slamming his other paw on her mouth. “No more questions!”
Meanwhile, Cloudstripe had picked up Skykit, who was squirming and wailing. Splashstream tried her hardest to get up, but was unable to. She could only watch helplessly as the warrior carried her kit to the water and dropped her in.
Skykit! she tried to scream. Cloudstripe kept her paws on Skykit’s blue-gray head, not letting her get up for air. After a while she stood up.
“It’s done,” she said, no emotion in her voice.
Splashstream felt like her heart had stopped. No! She wanted to do something, anything to help her kit.
But it was already done. Skykit was gone. And she didn’t - couldn’t - do anything to help.
Why didn’t she protect her better? Why wasn’t she strong enough to fight for her? Why couldn’t the Spirits spare at least one kit?
Why not?
7 - Worst Nightmare
This was originally for TC, but I missed the due date. The prompt was "Write a story about a nightmare. Bonus points if it isn’t an omen/prophecy." It's just kinda a cute little story. Cool down after that last one, lol.
“What’s your worst nightmare?”
The question caught me off guard. I blinked twice quickly, and my tail curled itself around my paws, a couple of habits of mine. “What do you mean?” I asked, tilting my head slightly.
He looked down, seeming a bit embarrassed. “You know…the worst thing that could ever happen to you.” He looked back at me and added, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I understand if it’s a personal question.“ I just had to look in his warm, understanding eyes to know he really meant it. “I won't make you do anything you don't want to.”
“No, it’s okay,” I assured him. “It’s just that you never really asked anything like that before.”
He nodded. “I know. I just want to know because, well, I want to protect you from anything that would scare or hurt you…” His ears fell, and his eyes filled with sadness. He looked away, as if he didn’t want me to see. If just thinking about it made him feel that way, I couldn’t even imagine how he would react if it actually happened. And knowing that he felt that, just for me…It felt amazing, knowing how much he loved me, what he would do for me. I don’t think anyone else has ever cared about me that much.
I moved over until I was leaning against him, his warm, soft fur blending together with mine. He licked one of my ears, amusement sparkling his eyes. You do such a great job at that already, I thought. “Thank you,” I said, then thought back to the question. I wanted to tell him what it was, I really did, but there was something stopping me. A feeling of such strong sadness I couldn't say it out loud, could barely even think it, without bursting into uncontrollable tears. "I-I think it would be, ummm…” What sounded like something lots of cats would be afraid of? “...Dying, I think.”
He put one paw on mine. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” He tilted his head for a second, our ears brushing. His emerald eyes were full of love, his tone to truthful…
I felt a painful stab of guilt and regret, so strong I almost clasped on the ground. I knew he really believed me.
But I lied.
That isn’t actually true, I thought. My worst nightmare would be losing you.
8 - A Family Secret
This is a one-shot that takes place before my fanfiction. It's about a cat that will show up later, Spring, and the medicine cat of the main Clan, Streamleaf. It's for the Lake House prompt contest, the prompt being "Write a story about a secret. Bonus point if it’s kept at all costs"
She was alone.
The cool early morning breeze ruffled the silver tabby’s pelt. Dew glistened on the long grass, mimicking the millions of stars that had lit up the sky not too long ago.
Her whiskers twitched, sensing the arrival of another cat. A slender she-cat, build and color almost identical to her own, silently approached her.
“Hi, Streampaw. Nice to see you again,” she mewed, her voice as soft as the breeze. “How have you been? How’s your Clan?”
“Hello you you, too, Spring,” she replied, voice equally as quiet. “I am well, as is BlossomClan. How has life been for you and the barn cats?”
“It’s good,” Spring said. “A new litter of kits was born a few days ago.”
“That’s good to hear. Kits are always a blessing,” Streampaw meowed. “Whether they’re born into a Clan or not.”
A cloud passed over the sun, it’s shadow falling over the two cats.
“I should go now,” Streampaw whispered. “Honeywing will be expecting me.”
Spring nodded. “Yeah. My cats might notice I’m gone.”
The BlossomClan apprentice dipped her head. “Farewell, sister. I hope to see you again soon.”
“So do I,” Spring said. “Bye, Streampaw.”
The two she-cats went their separate ways.
---
They did not know it, but they weren’t alone.
Hidden in the dark shadows of the trees, two bright yellow eyes watched. They watched as two silver tabby she-cats walked up to each other. They watched as they talked with each other. They watched as they left in separate directions, one to the home of the barn cats and one to the home of the Clans.
A large cat crept out of the trees. At first glance her dark colored fur would look black, but in the light of the morning sun, one could see that it was dark brown. She sniffed the spot the cats were standing. Yes, she did not imagine things - there was the clear scent of both barn and Clan.
Her gaze turned toward the direction of the barn cats’ main camp. That she-cat was up to something, and she could easily guess what.
---
“Spring,” growled a voice from behind her.
“Huh?” She whirled around. In front of her was Swift, looking eerily calm for all the burning anger in her piercing yellow eyes. Yep, she was definitely mad at her - and you did not want to be the cat who made Swift mad. “I - I’m sorry, what did I do?”
“Would you care to explain,” the dark brown cat hissed softly, “what you were doing with a BlossomClan cat?”
How could she know? Spring opened her mouth to ask this, then snapped it shut. She couldn’t admit she was with a Clan cat, could she? She certainly couldn’t admit that she wasn’t a full non-Clan cat like everyone thought, that she had a BlossomClan sister and mother.
That she was the product of a short-loved forbidden relationship, of two cats who now wanted nothing to do with each other.
“You must have been seeing things,” she wanted to say. She wanted to come up with a clever excuse to convince Swift that was true. But when she opened her mouth, no words came out.
The old, battle-scarred she-cat’s tail lashed. “Furthermore, why did this cat so much resemble you? Is there something you’d like to say?” Her eyes flashed in the sunlight. “Something that might involve your father and supposedly dead mother?”
Spring felt sick. Here Swift was, figuring out all the secrets and lies in her life.
“I think this might be something the whole barn might want to know, don’t you?” she continued.
“You - you’re not telling them anything,” Spring growled, trying to sound threatening despite her fear. She couldn't let her do this.
“Oh no?” Swift purred. “I think I just might. I’ll just call Alexis over here - ”
“No!” Spring stopped thinking, her instincts taking over. Without realizing it, she lunged at Swift with her sharp claws unsheathed.
The brown tabby didn’t see it coming. She didn’t even notice for a few seconds that she was bleeding from a gash in her throat. She screamed, but no sound came out.
Spring came back to her senses. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw what she had done to Swift. “Oh no…I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened!” she meowed frantically, panicking. “Here, I’ll get Fasha. She’ll know what to do.” Spring dashed off to the old barn the cats called their home.
“Fasha!” she called, running into it. “Please come quickly! Swift is badly hurt!”
The light ginger she-cat quickly leapt down from the old bale of hay she had been resting on, and other cats pricked their ears and stared at her in alarm. “What? How - ” She froze, noticing the blood on Spring’s paws.
“Wha - Oh, the blood? I…was trying to stop the bleeding. Yeah.” Spring hoped Fasha would believe her. She never had been the best lier.
It didn’t look like it. But this wasn’t the time for standing around bickering. “What kind of injury does she have?”
“A deep cut in her throat,” Spring answered. Fasha nodded and turned, running to the back of the barn where she kept the herbs.
She quickly returned, clutching a bundle of leafy green plants and cobwebs. “Take me to Swift,” she ordered.
“Okay.” Spring dashed out of the barn, leaving the group of shocked, whispering cats behind. She stopped at a spot a little way out of their main camp, where a dark brown cat was on the ground, surrounded by red.
Fasha got to work on healing her right away. Spring looked away, not wanting to see the damage she had done.
“Let’s take her back to the barn,” Fasha said once she did all she could. Spring nodded, and helped the ginger she-cat carry her.
---
After Spring’s attack, Swift had become mute, unable to tell anyone of the silver cat’s secret. Spring avoided her as much as she could, both out of guilt and the fact that she glared at her whenever she saw her, pure hatred in her eyes.
Swift died a few moons later. The cats all mourned the oldest member of their group, and comforted Fasha when she felt guilty for not being able to save her.
Spring mostly kept to herself after that, even quitting her secret meetings with her sister. Her BlossomClan sister.
The thing everyone knew was that Swift was dead. What they did not know was that Spring’s secret about her Clan blood and kinship to Streampaw died with her.
---
And that's it! I hope you enjoyed them c:
Tips to get better are welcome! Also, if you spot a mistake, tell me and I'll fix it.
