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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 16, 2016 0:47:58 GMT -5
Proboards doesn't give you enough title space kill meYep, I'm bringing this back. This is a half-serious, half-spoof theoretical series based on an incredibly silly joke thread on the old forums about Tigerstar being the first medicine cat, among other things. This fanfiction essentially takes many of the jokes from that thread, adds some more random and silly changes of my own, and rewrites the series with Smudge as the kittypet savior of ThunderClan because all hail Smudge why not? While the changes themselves are just silly (random gender swaps, Clan and role changes, and other such stuff), the fanfiction is actually somewhat serious, in the fact that nothing that happens in the story is a joke in and of itself- the funny just comes from the random and unnecessary changes to the characters, world, and story. It's also an attempt at seeing what would happen to some characters if things turned out differently for them- if they survive, if they had or hadn't gotten what they wanted, or if they simply chose a different path in life. It's a chance to get to know different characters, and put old characters through different challenges and situations. It's also an attempt to make some characters and story arcs less annoying, because let's be honest, Firestar was just boring pretty much after the first series and they just kept him going ohmygod some characters were overused, while others had potential and were ignored. In this case, you have a chance to influence the story. While I have the plot of this book planned, and a general idea for the direction of the Original Series (or the True Warriors equivalent), anything after that (or before, for that matter) can still be manipulated. Or, if as I'm writing you see a potential plot or character that you would like to explore more, let me know and maybe I'll address it in the story, or write a short separate story about it. The possibilities are endless. While I more-or-less have the first generation planned out as far as changes go, feel free to suggest changes to subsequent generations (New Prophecy and after). Please suggest via PM so as not to ruin the surprise for others  In any case, even though this is not a "lol tacos, so random" sort of spoofy thing, I hope you'll enjoy reading this and experiencing the changes as much as I am enjoying writing them. If you enjoy this, please comment! It lets me know people are actually reading and gives me the will to continue writing. The more you comment, the more I write lol. So without further ado, I present: True Warriors #1: I guess I'll Go in the Woods or Something
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Comment 1: Prologue - Chapter 2 Comment 2: N/A Comment 3: N/A Comment 4: N/A Comment 5: N/A |
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 16, 2016 0:48:14 GMT -5
PROLOGUE
A half-moon glowed on smooth granite boulders, turning them to silver. The silence was broken only by the ripple of water from the swift black river that snaked around the stones, and the whisper of the trees in the forest beyond.
There was a stirring in the shadows, and lithe dark shapes crept stealthily over the rocks, pulling themselves from the swift waters or the shadows of the forest. Unsheathed claws glinted in the moonlight. Wary eyes flashed as the shadows paused.
Then, as if on a silent signal, the creatures leaped at each other, and suddenly the rocks were alive with wrestling, screeching cats.
At the center of the frenzy of fur and claws, two toms circled each other, and none of the other cats dared interrupt. The small tortoiseshell tom fluffed out his fur aggressively, his russet tail twitching with agitation. The other, a large bracken-colored tom, his pelt still dripping from the river, stood tall.
"Oakheart!" the tortoiseshell snarled. "How dare you hunt in our territory? You know the Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!"
"After tonight, Redtail, this will be part of RiverClan territory once more," the other tom spat back.
A warning yowl came from the shore, shrill and anxious. "Look out! More RiverClan warriors are coming!"
Redtail turned to see sleek wet bodies sliding out of the water below the rocks. The drenched RiverClan warriors bounded silently up the shore and hurled themselves into battle without even stopping to shake the water from their fur.
The tortoiseshell glared at Oakheart, tail lashing. "You may swim like otters, but you and your warriors do not belong in the forest!" He drew back his lips and showed his teeth as Oakheart bristled, looking as though he were about to lunge.
The desperate scream of a ThunderClan she-cat rose above the clamor. A wiry RiverClan tom had pinned the brown warrior flat on her belly. Now he lunged toward her neck with jaws still dripping from his swim across the river.
Redtail heard the cry, and in his moment of hesitation, Oakheart crouched, ready to spring forward and pin the other tom to the ground. Before he could, though, another tortoiseshell cat, this one female, leaped on him and pinned him to the ground. Without looking back, Redtail leaped on the other RiverClan tom and knocked him away from the pinned she-cat.
"Run, Mousefur!" he ordered, stepping between her and the tom who had threatened her. Mousefur scrambled to her paws, wincing from a deep gash on her shoulder, and raced away. Behind her, Redtail hissed as the RiverClan warrior sliced open his nose. Blood blinded him for an instant, but he lunged forward regardless and sank his teeth into the hind leg of his enemy. The RiverClan cat squealed in pain and struggled free, his hind claws nearly catching in Redtail's fur as he lashed out in panic.
"Redtail!" The yowl came from the she-cat who was now struggling with Oakheart. "This is useless. There's too many of them!" She collapsed as Oakheart batted her to the side, using his strength and size against her, and disappeared back into the crowd of cats.
Redtail allowed his gaze to flash across the battlefield- she was right, they were being overwhelmed. "Retreat, then!"
At once, the ThunderClan warriors squirmed and struggled away from their opponents. Spitting and snarling, they backed toward Redtail. For a heartbeat, the RiverClan cats looked confused. Was this battle so easily won? Then Oakheart yowled a jubilant cry. As soon as they heard him, the RiverClan warriors raised their voices and joined their deputy in caterwauling their victory.
Redtail looked down at his warriors. With a flick of his tail, he gave the signal and the ThunderClan cats dived down the far side of the Sunningrocks, then disappeared into the trees. He paused, however, hesitating at the edge of the forest, and glanced back at the bloodstained battlefield. His eyes narrowed furiously. Then he leaped after his Clan into the silent forest.
In a deserted clearing, an old gray she-cat sat alone, staring up at the clear night sky. All around her in the shadows, she could hear the breathing and stirrings of sleeping cats.
A shadow detached itself from the whole, moonlight falling upon dark tabby fur as he leaped heavily up to sit next to his leader. Amber eyes flashed, reflecting the stars as they turned upward, following the blue gaze of the silent she-cat.
After a moment, the gray cat turned to look at the newcomer, dipping her head in greeting. "How is Mousefur?" she asked softly, her eyes flicking towards a dark corner of the clearing before returning to the massive tom at her side.
"Her wounds are deep, Bluestar," came his rumbling reply as he looked to her in turn. "But she is young and strong, and will heal quickly."
"And the others?"
"They will all recover too."
Bluestar sighed as she gazed back up at the sky, her thick pelt ruffled against the cool night air. "We are lucky not to have lost any of our warriors this time. You are a gifted medicine cat, Tigerclaw." The tom inclined his head at the praise as the she-cat continued, "I am deeply troubled by tonight's defeat. ThunderClan has not been beaten in its own territory since I became leader." She paused, her voice dropping to a sad murmur. "These are difficult times for our Clan. The season of newleaf is late, and there have been fewer kits. But ThunderClan will need to raise more warriors in the coming moons if it is to survive."
"Greenleaf will come, and it will bring more kits," Tigerclaw reassured her calmly.
Bluestar twitched her broad shoulders. "Perhaps, but it takes time for kits to grow and train. If ThunderClan is to defend its territory, it must have new warriors as soon as possible."
"Are you asking StarClan for guidance?" the tom asked, following her gaze once more to the swathe of stars that glittered brightly in the black sky.
"It is at times like this that we need the words of ancient warriors to help us. Has StarClan spoken to you?" Bluestar asked, not turning to look at the medicine cat.
"Not for some moons, Bluestar."
Suddenly a shooting star blazed over the treetops, its pale brilliance cutting through the shadows like claws through fur before it sped out of sight. Tigerclaw's tail twitched and the fur along his spine bristled as he stared after it, eyes wide. Bluestar's ears pricked but she remained silent as Tigerclaw remained still, ears angled in the direction the comet had disappeared.
After a few moments, Tigerclaw lowered his head, turning slowly to Bluestar.
"It was a message from StarClan," he murmured. A distant look came into his eyes. "The answer lies with one who is as much darkness as light."
"Darkness and light?" Bluestar repeated, her voice questioning. "How can one be of darkness and light?"
Tigerclaw shook his head. "I do not know. This is the message StarClan has chosen to share with me; we must find its meaning on our own."
Bluestar sighed, fixing her clear blue eyes on the medicine cat. "You have never led me astray, Tigerclaw. If StarClan has spoken, then it must be so." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she looked to the sky once more. "The answer lies with one who is as much darkness as light."
CHAPTER 1
It was very dark.
Smudge could sense something was near. The young tomcat's eyes opened wide as he scanned the dense undergrowth. This place was unfamiliar, but the strange scents drew him onward, deeper into the shadows. His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger. He opened his jaws slightly to let the warm smells of the forest reach the scent glands on the roof of his mouth. Musty odors of leaf mold mingled with the tempting aroma of a small furry creature.
Suddenly, a flash of gray raced past him. Smudge held still, listening. It was hiding in the leaves less that two tail-lengths away. Smudge knew it was a mouse- he could feel the rapid pulsing of a tiny heart deep within his ear fur. He swallowed stifling his rumbling stomach. Soon his hunger would be satisfied.
Slowly he lowered his body into position, crouching for the attack. He was downwind of the mouse. He knew it was not aware of him. With one final check on his prey's position, Smudge pushed back hard on his haunches and sprang, kicking up leaves on the forest floor as he rose.
The mouse dived for cover, heading toward a hole in the ground. But Smudge was already on top of it. He scooped it into the air, hooking the helpless creature with his thorn-sharp claws, flinging it up in a high arch onto the leaf-covered ground. The mouse landed dazed, but alive. It tried to run, but Smudged snatched it up again, tossing it once more, this time a little farther away. The mouse managed to scramble a few paces before he caught up with it.
Suddenly a noise roared nearby. Smudge looked around, and as he did so, the mouse was able to pull away from his claws. When Smudge turned back he saw it dart into the darkness among the tangled roots of a tree.
Angry, Smudge gave up the hunt. He spun around, his amber eyes glaring, intent on identifying the noise that had cost him his kill. The sound rattled on, becoming more familiar. Smudge blinked open his eyes.
The forest had disappeared. He was inside a hot and airless kitchen, curled in his bed. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows on the smooth, hard floor. The noise had been the rattle of hard, dried pellets of food as they were tipped into his dish. Smudge had been dreaming.
Lifting his head, he rested his chin on the side of his bed. His collar rubbed uncomfortably around his neck. In his dream, he felt fresh air ruffling the soft fur where the collar usually pinched. Smudge rolled onto his back, savoring the dream for a few more moments. He could still smell the mouse. It was the third time this moon that he had had a dream like that, though every time the mouse escaped his grasp. Glancing out the window, he could see the topmost branches of the trees that made up the forest past his garden, swaying peacefully with each breath of wind. He had never been one for adventure, but the vividness of his dream made him want to try for real.
Smudge's belly rumbled, reminding him of his hunger. The scent of his food wafted through the kitchen, bland after the warm scents of blood and flesh from his dream. For once, it didn't appeal to him, but another grumble in his gut spurred him into action.
The food felt dry and tasteless on his tongue, but Smudge reluctantly gulped down enough to sate his hunter. Then he turned away from the food dish and pushed his way out through the cat flap, hoping that the smell of the garden would bring back the feelings from his dream.
Outside, the moon was bright, only obscured by the thinnest wisps of cloud. It was raining lightly. Smudge stalked down the tidy garden, following the starlit gravel path, feeling the stones cold and sharp beneath his paws. He paused at the edge of the path, then stepped into the cool grass, crossing the yard and leaping up onto the wooden fence that marked the edges of his home.
He perched there for some time, enjoying the view the spot provided: he could see into the neighboring yards, as well as into the dense green forest on the other side of the fence.
The rain had stopped by now. Behind him, the close-cropped lawn was bathed in moonlight, but beyond his fence the woods were full of shadows. Smudge stretched his head forward to take a sniff of the damp air, balancing carefully so as not to fall off the narrow wooden post. His skin was warm and dry under his thick coat, but he could feel the weight of the raindrops that sparkled on his black-and-white fur.
He heard his owners giving him one last call from the back door. If he went with them now, they would greet him with gentle words and caresses and welcome him into their bed, where he would curl, purring, in warm in the crook of a bent knee.
But this time Smudge ignored his owners' voices and turned his gaze back to the forest. The crisp smell of the woods had grown fresher after the rain.
Suddenly the fur on his spine prickled. Was something moving out there? Was something watching him? Smudge stared ahead, but it was impossible to see or smell anything in the dark, tree-scented air. He lifted his chin boldly, stood up, and stretched, one paw gripping each corner of the fence post as he straightened his legs and arched his back. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of the woods once more. It seemed to promise him something, tempting him onward into the whispering shadows. Tensing his muscles, he crouched for a moment before dropping lightly down into the rough grass below. As he landed, the bell on his collar rang out through the still night air.
Smudge paused as the echo of the shrill noise dissipated on the breeze, leaving the world silent and peaceful. He stared into the forest, caught between temptation and caution. Everything he had learned warned him against entering the shadow of the trees- cats had told him it was dangerous, that there were animals and cats out there that would not hesitate to kill a kitten like him. But the memory of his dream pushed him forward.
Suddenly a movement caught his eye: a small creature scuttling under some brambles.
Instinct made him drop into a low crouch. With one slow paw after another he drew his body forward through the undergrowth. The brambles pushed uncomfortably against his wide sides and he paused, careful not to make too much noise as he stalked his prey. Ears pricked, nostrils flared, eyes unblinking, he moved toward the animal, all-too-conscious of the heaviness in his step. Ahead, he could see the animal clearly, sitting up among the barbed branches, nibbling on a large seed held between its tiny paws. It was a mouse.
Smudge rocked his haunches slowly from side to side, preparing to leap. He held his breath in case his bell rang again. Excitement coursed through him, making his heart pound. This was even better than his dreams! Then a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves made him jump. His bell jangled treacherously, and the mouse darted away into the thickest tangle of the bramble bush.
Smudge stood very still and looked around. He could see the white tip of a bushy red tail trailing through a clump of tall ferns ahead. He smelled a strong, strange scent: definitely a meat-eater, but neither cat nor dog. Distracted, Smudge forgot about the mouse and watched the red tail curiously. He wanted a better look, though his pelt also prickled slightly with uncertainty. Was this one of the dangerous animals he had been warned about? But still, curiosity drove him forward.
All of Smudge's senses strained ahead as he prowled forward. Then he detected another noise. It came from behind, but sounded muted and distant. He swiveled his ears backward to hear it better. Pawsteps? he wondered, turning nervously. He glanced back, but the red fur had disappeared into the darkness. Smudge glanced around, then as quietly as he could clawed his way onto a low branch in a nearby tree, narrowing his eyes to peer into the darkness for any sign of the red-furred creature, or whatever was running.
He tensed as he heard the rustling of leaves grow closer, and shrunk back against the trunk of the tree. In the darkness, he could see a tiny splash of white fur, but the creature was downwind- he couldn't tell what it was in the darkness.
Should I attack? It can't be that big, he thought, bunching his muscles. His tail-tip twitched with excitement and fear. Maybe it's prey?
As the creature passed beneath the tree, Smudge dropped down from the branch, landing squarely on top of it. He felt narrow shoulders and sleek fur beneath his paws. The cat gave out a surprised and terrified squeal as it collapsed beneath Smudge's weight, sending them both toppling to the leafy ground.
The other cat recovered quicker, rolling away from its attacker and dropping into a defensive crouch, laying back its ears and hissing. A few beams of narrow moonlight broke through the canopy of leaves and fell upon a dark pelt, sleek and black as a raven's wing, and reflected in frightened green eyes. As he scrambled to his paws, Smudge realized it was a kitten about the same age as himself.
"W-what are you doing on our territory?" the kitten demanded, the aggression in his voice obviously faked. Smudge blinked in surprise.
"Your territory?" he asked, tilting his head. He plopped down on the leaf-strewn forest floor, wrapping his tail neatly around his paws, all aggression forgotten. The black cat narrowed his eyes, looking uncertain.
"You haven't heard of us?" he asked slowly, his pelt slowly flattening.
"Heard of you?" Smudge asked, curiosity piqued. "Should I have?"
The other kitten hesitated, still looking defensive, but his fear was beginning to ebb. "Most cats around here have. Have you never heard of the four Clans that hunt in the wilderness?"
Smudge blinked again. Was this little tom one of the vicious wildcats the other housecats had always warned him about? He didn't look very intimidating, Smudge thought as he looked the other cat up and down. He wasn't as soft and flabby as the housecats he had met, but he was still small and thin- not exactly what Smudge would call terrifying.
Suddenly, the young cat stiffened, raising his head and glancing over his shoulder. "I smell cats from my Clan. You should go, they won't be pleased to find you hunting on our territory."
"What about you?" Smudge asked, getting heavily to his paws. His pelt prickled at the urgency in the wild cat's voice, and he wondered how he had managed to smell the other cats- Smudge didn't smell anything other than leaves and dew.
The kitten just shook his head. "I can see you didn't mean any harm. Just go, and don't come back."
But it was too late. A voice meowed behind him, firm and menacing. "What's going on here?"
Smudge turned to see a large gray she-cat strolling majestically out from the undergrowth. She was magnificent. White hairs streaked her muzzle, and an ugly scar parted the fur across her shoulders, but her smooth gray coat shone like silver in the moonlight.
"Bluestar!" The black kitten shrunk back nervously as the she-cat appeared, lowering his eyes in what looked to Smudge like respect, and he instinctively followed suit. He tensed further as a second she-cat entered the clearing, this one an impressive golden tabby.
"You shouldn't be so near Twolegplace, Ravenpaw," the golden tabby growled, narrowing her green eyes.
"I know Lionheart," the black cat meowed, seeming to become even smaller. "I'm sorry."
Smudge's ears twitched nervously as he watched the two wildcats through narrowed eyes. They carried an air of strength that he had never seen in any of the other housecats. Perhaps what they had warned him about was true after all.
"Who is this?" asked the gray she-cat. Smudge tensed as she turned her gaze on him, her piercing blue eyes making him feel more vulnerable than ever.
"He's no threat," Ravenpaw replied quickly. "He's just a twoleg pet."
Just a twoleg pet? Smudge glared, his tail-tip twitching, but refrained from giving any kind of retort. The warning look in Bluestar's stare told him that she had observed the anger in his eyes, and he lowered his gaze to the ground.
"This is Bluestar," Ravenpaw added quietly to Smudge, casting a glance at the gray she-cat. "She's the leader of my Clan. And Lionheart- she's my mentor." Smudge wasn't quite sure what that meant, or why it was significant, but from Ravenpaw's tone, it sounded important.
Lionheart flashed a silencing glance at Ravenpaw before turning her attention back to Bluestar and Smudge as the gray queen spoke.
"You are quite brave for a kittypet," she meowed. Smudge cast a confused glance at Ravenpaw. Did Bluestar see him attack the Clan kitten?
"We have been watching you both," she went on, as if she had read their thoughts. "We wondered how you would deal with an intruder, Ravenpaw."
"I am proud that you stood your ground," Lionheart added, though Smudge thought he detected a hint of disappointment in her voice. Was she angry that Ravenpaw hadn't counterattacked?
"Sit up now, both of you!" Bluestar ordered. She looked levelly at Smudge. "You too, kittypet." Smudge straightened up immediately, forcing himself to meet Bluestar's gaze as she addressed him.
"I am surprised a young kittypet like you would be brave enough to attack a Clan cat, even a small one like Ravenpaw," she meowed. Smudge nodded in thanks, surprised by the praise and not willing to admit that he hadn't realized Ravenpaw was a wildcat. If he had, he never would have attacked.
"I have been wondering if you would ever venture into the forest. I have often seen you on your fence, looking out into the wilderness," she continued. The fact that she had seen Smudge before, and remembered him, surprised the young cat, and he couldn't help but feel flattered. "Hm, you are a decent hunter, for having no training. If you weren't so heavy, and you hadn't hesitated so long, you might have caught that mouse."
Heavy? Smudge thought indignantly, but he knew it was the truth. Still, the rest of her statement seemed to be praise, and Smudge couldn't help but feel a note of pride at that.
Lionheart spoke again now, her low voice respectful but insistant. "Bluestar, this is a kittypet. He should not be hunting in ThunderClan territory. Send him home to his twolegs!"
Smudge was somewhat stung by Lionheart's dismissive words. "But I've only come for a mouse or two! Surely there's enough to go around!"
Bluestar had turned her head to acknowledge Lionheart's words; now her gaze snapped back to Smudge. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger. "There's never enough to go around!" she spat. "If you didn't live such a soft, overfed life, you would know that!"
Smudge was shocked by Bluestar's sudden rage, but one glance at the horrified look on Ravenpaw's face was enough to tell him he had made a dire mistake. Lionheart stepped to her leader's side, and both warriors loomed over him now. Smudge shrank back, suddenly terrified. These were not cozy fireside cats that he was dealing with- they were mean, hungry cats and they were exactly as terrifying as Smudge had been told.
CHAPTER 2
Well?" hissed Bluestar, her face only a mouse-length from his now. Lionheart remained silent as she towered over Rusty.
He flattened his ears and crouched under the golden warrior's cold stare. His fur prickled uncomfortably. "I am no threat to your Clan," he meowed, looking down at his trembling paws.
"You threaten our Clan when you take our food," yowled Bluestar. "You have plenty of food in your twoleg nest already. You come here only to hunt for sport. But we hunt to survive."
The truth of the warrior queen's words pierced Smudge like a blackthorn, and suddenly he understood her anger. He stopped trembling and straightened up, slowly raising his eyes to meet hers. "I hadn't thought of it that way before. I'm sorry," he meowed solemnly. "I won't hunt here again."
Bluestar stared at him coldly for a moment, then let her hackles fall and signaled to Lionheart to step back. "You are an unusual kittypet, Smudge," she meowed.
Ravenpaw's sigh of relieve made Smudge's ears twitch. He heard the approval in Bluestar's voice, and noticed as she swapped a meaningful glance with Lionheart. The look made him curious. What had flashed between the two warriors? Quietly he asked, "Is survival here really so hard?"
"Our territory covers only part of the forest," answered Bluestar. "We compete with other Clans for what we have. And this year, late newleaf means prey is scarce."
"Is your Clan very big?" Smudge meowed, his eyes wide.
"Big enough," replied Bluestar. "Our territory can support us, but there is no prey left over."
"Are you all warriors, then?" Smudge mewed. Bluestar's guarded answers were just making him more and more curious.
Lionheart answered him. "Some are warriors. Some are too young or too old or too busy caring for kits to hunt."
"And you all live and share prey together?" Smudge murmured in awe, thinking a little guiltily of his own easy, selfish life.
Bluestar looked again at Lionheart. The golden tabby stared back at her steadily. At last, she returned her gaze to Smudge and meowed, "Perhaps you should find out these things for yourself. Would you like to join ThunderClan?"
Smudge was so surprised, he couldn't speak.
Bluestar went on: "If you did, you would train with Ravenpaw to become a Clan warrior."
"But kittypets can't be warriors!" Ravenpaw murmured, not meeting Bluestar's gaze. "They don't have warrior blood."
A sad look clouded Bluestar's eyes. "Warrior blood," she echoed with a sigh. "Too much of that has been spilled lately."
Bluestar fell silent, and Lionheart continued instead: "Bluestar is only offering you training, young kit. There is no guarantee you would become a full warrior. It might prove too difficult for you. After all, you are used to a comfortable life."
Smudge was stung by Lionheart's words. He swung his head around to face the golden tabby. "Why offer me the chance, then?"
But it was Bluestar who answered again this time. "You are right to question our motives, young one. The fact is, ThunderClan needs more warriors."
"Understand that Bluestar does not make this offer lightly," warned Lionheart. "If you wish to train with us, we will have to take you into our Clan. You must either live with us and respect our ways, or return to your Twolegplace and never come back. You cannot live with a paw in each world."
A cool breeze stirred the undergrowth, ruffling Smudge's fur. He shivered, not with the cold, but with excitement at the incredible possibilities opening up before him.
"Are you wondering if it's worth giving up your comfortable kittypet life?" asked Bluestar gently. "But do you realize the price you will pay for your warmth and food?"
Smudge looked at her, puzzled. Surely his encounter with these cats had proved to him just how easy and luxurious his life was.
"I can tell that you are still a tom," Bluestar added, "despite the twoleg stench that clings to your fur."
"What do you mean- still a tom?"
"You haven't yet been taken by the twolegs to see the Cutter," meowed Bluestar gravely. "You would be very different then. Not quite so keen to fight a Clan cat, I suspect!"
Smudge was confused. He suddenly thought of Henry, who had become fat and lazy since his visit to the vet. Was that what Bluestar meant by the Cutter?
"The Clan may not be able to offer you such easy food or warmth," continued Bluestar. "In the season of leaf-bare, nights in the forest can be cruel. The Clan will demand great loyalty and hard work. You will be expected to protect the Clan with your life if necessary. And there are many mouths to feed. But the rewards are great. You will remain a tom. You will be trained in the ways of the wild. You will learn what it is to be a real cat. The strength and fellowship of the Clan will always be with you, even when you hunt alone."
Smudge's head reeled. Bluestar seemed to be offering him the life he had lived so many times, and so tantalizingly, in his dreams. But could he live like that for real?
Lionheart interrupted his thoughts. "Come, Bluestar, let's not waste any more time here. We must be ready to join the other patrol at moonhigh. Spottedleaf will wonder what has become of us." She stood up and flicked her tail expectantly.
"Wait," Smudge meowed. "Can I think about your offer?"
Bluestar looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Lionheart will be here tomorrow at sunhigh," she told him. "Give her your answer then."
Bluestar murmured a low signal, and in a single movement the three cats turned and disappeared into the undergrowth.
Smudge blinked. He stared- excited, uncertain- up past the ferns that encircled him, through the canopy of leaves, to the stars that glittered in the clear sky. The scent of the Clan cats still hung heavy in the evening air. And as Smudge turned and headed for home, he felt a strange sensation inside him, tugging him back into the depths of the forest. His fur prickled deliciously in the light wind, and the rustling leaves seemed to whisper his name into the shadows.
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