ǂ Ⱥ Ƭŗiął ǭƒ ȘħąđǿƜ ǂ A Warrior Cat's Fanfiction

Prologue

    Cries of alarm rang through the air as cat met cat in a fierce struggle. This was a scene that had been played out many times before, over and over for years upon years. The animosity between Fireclan and Iceclan had been ingrained into the minds of every kit born into both clans, until it had become just another common occurrence, such as the changing of the seasons. To fight like a Fireclan and Iceclan cat was a common saying when two cats would become hostile between each other, with the origins being quite bloody.

On this darkened night, the two clans clashed once more on an island, one of the many along their border that was almost constantly changing owners. Tonight, however, Fireclan had the upper hand. A large, dark grey tom pushed himself away from another cat, looking around the battlefield. He called out to his clanmates, his deep voice echoing above the screeches, the hisses, and the snarls of each cat.

    “Stand together, Iceclan! Do not let these mangy foxhearts drive us away!” he yowled, determination written on his broad face, golden eyes only enhanced by the framing of lighter grey around them. Another tom appeared from the fighting, nearly out of breath. He was all white, save for the golden stripe down his back and the blood from a gash on his shoulder that matted his fur now.

    “Stormstar, we must retreat. We'll have more than just scratches if we stay here any longer,” Sunstripe gasped, joined soon by another grey tom, this one bearing white markings. The new cat mewed his agreement, kneading at the ground and looking anxiously at his leader, worry filling his eyes. Stormstar knew why, as Warblerwing’s mate, Lynxfang, would be kitting at the moment. With another look around at the fight his clanmates were so painfully losing, a resigned sigh left the leader's mouth.

    “You are right, Sunstripe. We will not win tonight,” he said in a softer voice, shaking his head and silently cursing their defeat. His voice rang out again, this time sounding the retreat. His warriors broke away from their battles as he lead them back across the shallow stretch of water between the island and their own territory, almost glad to be leaving behind the now bloodstained island. The cold water numbed his paws but did nothing to numb his heart as the triumphant yowls of the rival clan sounded behind them. He gritted his teeth and pressed on towards home, trying to ignore the sounds as best he could, to no avail until they faded into the night.

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The camp was quiet when the defeated warriors returned, exhausted and battered. Warblerwing was the only cat who did not slump down upon returning, instead making his way towards the nursery almost immediately. He nearly ran straight into the brown tabby who was pushing his way out, looking quite startled by the appearance of the warrior. However, one glance around the camp put a spark into the young cat’s eyes as he nodded.

    “You’re free to go in, Warblerwing,” Quillpaw meowed to the other tom, racing off to the medicine cat den. Warblerwing blinked after him before pushing his way inside.

Darkwater was still with his mate, pushing some leaves towards her and giving soft instructions. As he approached, the medicine cat sat up, turning his head towards him and offering a soft purr.

    “Well, look who’s back,” the pale grey tabby said. “You’re the proud father of three kits, Warblerwing,” she added, moving closer to him and lowering her voice. “However… the little she-cat is very weak and I don’t know if she’ll make it. I know you lost two other kits with your first litter, so I’m hoping that this one won’t go as well.” The tom nodded, moving aside to let the medicine cat leave. He turned towards Lynxfang, approaching the nest and crouching down, purring in response to his mate’s own purr.

    “They’re beautiful, aren’t they, my love?” she murmured, nuzzling his cheek gently, her eyes narrowed slightly as she drew in his comforting scent.

    “Yes, of course they are,” he rumbled in return, puffing up with pride as he looked down upon his children. A little grey and white tom, just like him, a ginger and grey tom, and a silver tabby she-cat. “What shall we name them?” he asked, turning his blue gaze back to the brown she-cat.

    “I was thinking Icekit for the one who looks like you, Gingerkit for his brother, and Featherkit for the little she-cat,” the new mother purred quietly. Her mate nodded eagerly in agreement, gazing down at his kits lovingly.

    “I think those names are just perfect,” he responded, his voice no more than a whisper. She leaned her head against him, gently rubbing it against his soft, thick fur, and the two remained close, watching over their newest litter in contented silence and simply enjoying each other’s presence.

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Chapter 1

“Let all cats old enough to gather their own prey gather beneath the Icerock for a clan meeting!”

The familiar call brought every cat in the camp out of their dens, a soft buzz of conversation rippling through the assembled crowd. All of them knew what was happening, and the general atmosphere was a happy one. Two new warriors would be made that day and thus, it was an exciting moment for all.

The two warriors to-be sat freshly groomed and sleek, side-by-side with their mentors, eyes bright as they gazed up at Stormstar, leader of Iceclan. Before the meeting began, two kits were nudged from the nursery by a pretty brown she-cat who’s black markings made her look like a lynx. She sat, curling her tail around the two little cat’s as they copied her and sat as well, though they fidgeted every so often. Her mate, a broad shouldered grey and white tom, made his way over to sit with her, powerful muscles rippling beneath his thick pelt. It was their son, Icepaw, who was one of the apprentices who was becoming a warrior that day, and the two parents’ eyes shone with pride for his achievement.

With the entire clan now assembled, Stormstar began to speak once more, his deep voice carrying across the clearing.

“Two apprentices have proven themselves worthy of receiving their warriors names on this day. Lemmingfur, Owlheart,” he called, addressing a pure white she-cat and a spotted white tom. “Are you both satisfied with your apprentices?” Both cats nodded, much to the leader’s approval. “Then we may begin. Dustpaw, Icepaw, come forward.”

At these words, the two cats moved forward. Dustpaw’s whiskers trembled as she paused next to Icepaw, his grey and white fur brushing against her brown, grey, and white tabby fur. They looked to their leader expectantly, his golden eyes trained on them.

“Duspaw, please step forward.” The she-cat moved the rest of the way at the command, pausing and shifting a little in anticipation as the practiced words left Stormstar’s mouth. “I, Stormstar, leader of Iceclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.” He looked down at the impatient cat, pausing for a brief moment.

“Dustpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” she replied, voice ringing out clear and steady, despite her obvious excitement and nervousness. The grey leader nodded, continuing on.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Dustpaw, from this moment you will be known as Dustwind. Starclan honors your dedication and enthusiasm, and we welcome you as a full member of Iceclan,” he finished, his voice strong and loud. The clan raised their voices to the sky, chanting the warrior’s new name as Stormstar rested his muzzle upon Dustwind’s head, the new warrior licking his shoulder respectfully before stepping back to sit with her clanmates. Icepaw approached next, eyes bright with excitement. No trace of nervousness was in his stance or those blue orbs that were trained upon Stormstar. Again, the words were spoken.

“I, Stormstar, leader of Iceclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn.” Again, a pause, as the big grey tom studied the other cat for a moment. “Icepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do!” Icepaw promised, voice loud and strong, full of noble conviction and solemnly sincere. A look of pride entered his leader’s eyes as the older tom nodded.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Icepaw, from this moment you will be known as Icemask. Starclan honors your bravery and intelligence, and we welcome you as a full member of Iceclan.” Again, the clan took up the cries of the new warrior’s name as he licked his leader’s shoulder respectfully. From the nursery, his mother and father cried out his new name the loudest. And from behind Lynxfang’s tail, his two younger brothers also cried out his name as loudly as they could in their high pitched voices.

The meeting began to break up now, with cats taking turns to congratulate the new warriors. The two kits, still loosely held back by their mother’s tail, scrambled out. Gingerkit, tail held high, gave her larger brother a little push as he set his grey paws onto the ground in front of his mother.

“Icemask is a warrior now. Why can’t we be warriors yet, too, mother?” he asked, turning his gaze up to Lynxfang and pouting. The she-cat chuckled softly, leaning down to give her kit’s ear a lick, as Warblerwing offered an amused look. Gingerkit ducked away slightly, snorting at the licking. He was older now and didn’t need to be babied anymore.

“You won’t be apprentices for another three moons, my lovely. Focus on enjoying your kithood for now.” His nose wrinkled at this, a little paw coming up to bat away his mother. She gave him another lick before straightening up, looking towards her mate. “Wolfkit and Frecklekit should have been with Icemask,” she said softly, looking suddenly crestfallen. Her voice carried a certain sadness to it that confused Gingerkit, even though he knew that the two kits mentioned had once been his older siblings. Warblerwing pressed his nose to her cheek in a comforting manner, murmuring something to her before standing.

“Come now, let’s go congratulate our son,” he rumbled, looking down at his younger kits. “Don’t get into trouble, you two. We’ll only be gone a moment,” he said sternly, though his eyes were filled with a good natured light as he and Lynxfang moved towards Icemask.

Gingerkit sat down with a grunt, sniffing softly. Icekit trotted over to his brother, gently batting at his ear playfully. The grey and orange kit batted back, his brief jealousy over the attention his elder brother was receiving dissipating.

A curious look came over Icekit’s face as he pounced on his brother, tugging at his ear softly. The bite didn’t hurt and Gingerkit pushed his brother off. “Three moons is what mother said! Then we’ll get to be apprentices,” Icekit purred, squeaking when his brother’s weight landed on him. Gingerkit knew he wasn’t going to hurt his larger littermate, so he didn’t hold back when he battered at him with his hind legs, careful to keep his claws sheathed.

“Yea! Oh, who do you think our mentors will be?” he asked, bounding a few pawsteps away when Icekit twisted and nipped him lightly. It stung a little, but a warrior never showed that he was in pain! The grey kit shrugged, blinking his brilliant blue eyes.

“I hope I get Stormstar. He’s the greatest! Or Crowpelt!” Little meows of laughter left Gingerkit at the mention of Crowpelt.

“Why would you want Crowpelt as a mentor? He’s a sour old furball,” he scoffed, shaking his head and ducking when Icekit went to cuff him. “Stormstar would make a great mentor. Or Sunstripe.” Grudgingly, his brother nodded in agreement, opening his jaws to mew something in response.

Before another word could leave the kit, the sound of commotion drew the attention of the cats still gathered in the clearing. All eyes turned towards the camp entrance as two warriors returned, their pelts ruffled. Gingerkit blinked, a moment passing before he put names to each pelt. The dark grey one was Crowpelt and the skinny white tom with his three ringed tail was Runningstream.

Gingerkit leaned over close to Icekit, lowering his voice. “I’d hate to have Runningstream as a mentor. Look at how skinny and scared he looks,” the kit hissed. Icekit merely rolled his eyes, paying attention to what was happening as the voice of Crowpelt rose above the soft murmur of anxious voices.

“Fireclan has been bolder than ever, Stormstar,” the grey cat spat, tail lashing. “Apparently they aren’t content with the islands anymore. We scent them on our side of the river!” As he finished, raising his voice even higher as he did so, outraged yowls left the assembled cats, many tails lashing and pelts bristling. Gingerkit saw Stormstar’s eyes sweep over his clan before he stood.

“We mustn’t be hasty. Remember the last battle we had with Fireclan?” This reminder calmed some, though many paws shuffled in anticipation. There was tension in the early leaffall air, and every cat knew that a battle was imminent. The big leader stood, flicking his tail. “I will speak with my senior warriors in my den. Until then, every cat will remain here,” he meowed, his deep voice carrying across the clearing. The two messengers followed, along with a few other of the more senior warriors. Gingerkit noted with some pride that his father was amongst them, something that wasn’t missed by Icekit either. His brother nudged his shoulder, eyes shining.

“I bet if she weren’t so busy with us, mother would be with him,” he mewed, nodding his head. Gingerkit murmured in agreement, fluffing up his fur in pride. He really did have the best parents in the whole clan, even the whole world! He was distracted from his proud thoughts by movement, turning his head to look at Icemask as he approached. The grey and white tom was quite a bit bigger than the two kits, towering over them. The kit couldn’t help but notice that his warrior name was fitting, as the white markings over his face did make him look like he had on a mask. The new warrior sat down, purring softly in greeting as Icekit trotted over to him.

“Hello, Icekit, Gingerkit,” he rumbled, as the two sat in front of him.

“Hi, Icemask. Good job becoming a warrior,” Icekit mewed, blinking up at his larger brother. Gingerkit couldn’t help but notice how much his two brothers resembled their noble father. It struck him a little that he looked very different from his family, but a quick shake somewhat dislodged those thoughts.

“We’ll be apprentices in three moons,” he squeaked happily instead, the blue eyes of his eldest brother turning on him. “Then, we’ll get to train to be the best warriors in the clan!”

Icekit nodded excitedly, bouncing to his paws. “Yea! I’ll be the greatest warrior every! I’ll even become clan leader,” he added, puffing up with pride as amusement crept into Icemask’s eyes.

“Is that so? I hope you both know that being apprentices isn’t all fun and games,” he meowed seriously, though his eyes betrayed his light heartedness. “You’ll have to work very hard every day to receive the honor of becoming a warrior. And then you still have to work hard.” Both kits nodded eagerly, Gingerkit’s own mind filled with the wonderful possibilities. He could be the clan leader one day. Just the thought sparked a sudden burst of warmth inside of him, the seeds of ambition.

Dewpaw joined the group, giving Icemask a friendly nudge. “You aren’t getting these two all excitable, are you?” she teased, earning an amused purr from her former denmate.

“Of course not. You know me, Dewpaw. All work and no fun,” he shot back, flicking his shoulder with his tail. Gingerkit looked between the two, blinking.

“Hey, why didn’t Dewpaw get made a warrior?” he asked, earning a shove from his littermate and a rolling of the other kit’s eyes. It was Warblerwing who answered, returning to his family and giving his kit a look.

“Because she’s younger than Icemask. She still has some learning to do, but it won’t be long now,” he added, much to the pale she-cat’s pleasure. She lit up at her mentor’s praise, nodding her head.

“Soon, Warblerwing. Until then, I’ll work extra hard,” she promised, giving him an affectionate nudge before bounding off to join Dustwind and her brother, Quillpaw.

“What about Quillpaw? He’s been an apprentice just as long as those two,” Icekit mewed curiously, looking up at his father.

“Well, Quillpaw is a medicine cat in-training. He’ll earn his medicine cat name when Starclan and Darkwater deem him ready,” the tom explained. Both kits nodded slowly, with Gingerkit wrinkling his nose. He couldn’t ever imagine not being a warrior, and it baffled him that any cat would choose a different path. He saw the medicine cat weaving her way through he clanmates nearby, speaking softly to them before she got to the group.

“And he’ll get his name soon. He’s just about ready,” she said as she passed them, words laced with pride for her apprentice. As the she-cat headed away, Stormstar appeared again, calling his warriors to him. Gingerkit could hear him naming off each warrior that would be coming with him somewhere. He could only assume that it was for battle. He brightened at the thought, turning his amber eyes towards his mother as she rejoined them.

“Mother, I want to go with them. Can I, please?” he pleaded, giving her the most pitiful look he could. Icekit joined him, adding his voice to the pleading. With a snort, Lynxfang nosed them roughly back into the nursery.

“No, my darlings. One day, you’ll be able to join the warriors in their battles. But today is not that day,” she purred, nudging them into their shared nest. Slowly, the queen climbed in with her kits, settling down and curling her tail around them. A wave of exhaustion rolled over Gingerkit as he snuggled into her soft belly fur, murmuring softly about how he’d be the best warrior ever. He fell asleep quickly to the sound of his mother’s purring and the soft licks of his tongue against his fur.

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Commenting is open now. Feel free to leave a nice little note!

Somewhat maybe save or something?

Hopefully I get some feedback soon... I mean, I know my writing is pretty rusty, but no one has to be scared to leave a comment of any kind! I don't bite.

Thank you for the suggestion. It is a little long due to all the images, eh?