Non-binary
!Rowanfur
i love SEAGULLS and my GIRLFRIEND
Pronouns: they/them, he/him
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Post by !Rowanfur on Apr 23, 2019 20:27:13 GMT -5
SmugGull you may!! if you wouldn't mind linking back to my deviantart (altiasdog) that'd be appreciated!
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Post by SmugGull on Apr 23, 2019 20:27:57 GMT -5
Will do! (Seriously that banner is so cool.)
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Post by SmugGull on Apr 26, 2019 21:49:15 GMT -5
CHAPTER TWO
Firepaw slid through the woods with ease, luxuriating in the familiarity of the lakeside forests. The old Thunderpath ran past the camp up to the abandoned Twoleg nest, where mice and birds could be found in abundance. It was one of his favorite places to go to get away from the hustle and bustle of camp and think without feeling like he was shirking his duties.
He rounded a bend in the path and stopped short. There was no Twoleg nest, no Thunderpath – instead, there was a clearing where a clear spring, shining silver in the moonlight, sat.
A cat, who had been dozing at the edge of the spring, lifted his head as Firepaw approached.
“Ah, there you are,” the cat rumbled, sitting up. “I was starting to worry if you’d ever get to sleep.” He stood, and Firepaw realized with an uneasy jolt that this cat was massive – tall and broad, with crossed scars on his muzzle. The same cat Firepaw had seen wreathed in stars after entering the forest.
Unfamiliar cats turning up in dreams had a poor track record. This place might not look like the Dark Forest – it wasn’t particularly dark, to start with – but Firepaw flattened his ears against his skull and hissed warningly.
The cat dipped his head. “Peace, Firestar. I mean you no harm. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Firestar.
That was his name, the one he’d earned with the blood in his veins. Except he hadn’t – not yet.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“My name is Pinestar,” the cat answered. “I led ThunderClan when Bluestar was young.”
“She wasn’t your deputy, though,” Firepaw guessed. “Was she?”
Pinestar shook his head. “No, that honor was Sunstar’s.” He flicked his tail dismissively. “But enough of that. I imagine you have questions.”
“Several,” Firepaw growled. “As grateful as I am for the second chance – why am I here? Tigerstar was defeated. The clans were safe!” His voice rose dangerously close to a wail. “What more do you want from me?”
“Safe,” Pinestar echoed. “Was it? Was it truly?” His green eyes glittered in the moonlight. “Clanmate was turned against clanmate. Littermates shed each other’s blood. Is there any safe after that?”
Firepaw wanted to caterwaul his frustration. “Then what was I supposed to do?” he hissed.
“I do not know,” Pinestar admitted. “But I hope you will find the path that saves us. I care for my clan, Firestar. Every one of them.”
“So do I,” Firepaw snapped.
“Good,” Pinestar meowed. “Then we have hope.”
~~
“Firepaw. Firepaw, wake up.”
Firepaw shot to his feet with a hiss, his ears pinned against his skull and his fur sticking out in all directions.
Ravenpaw yelped and skittered backward, kicking moss directly into Sandpaw’s face.
“Hey, watch it!” she snapped.
“Sorry!”
Firepaw relaxed, smoothing his fur down. “What is it? Sunup?”
Ravenpaw nodded, still looking spooked. “W-we should be ready to meet Tigerclaw,” he meowed uncertainly.
“C’mon then,” Firepaw said awkwardly, stepping around Ravenpaw to leave the den. Sandpaw and Dustpaw had either fallen back asleep or were pretending (Firepaw strongly suspected the latter) and Greypaw was nowhere to be seen, which meant he had either begun the day’s training already or he was still in the medicine den.
Once again, Firepaw strongly suspected the latter.
“I’m going to check on Greypaw,” Firepaw said, silently marveling at the lack of creaking joints in his stride. “Care to join me?”
“Um, sure.” Ravenpaw glanced toward the camp entrance. “Do…do we have time?”
Firepaw paused. “Good question. How on-time is Tigerclaw, usually?”
“Um…”
“Why don’t you wait for him?” Firepaw suggested. “I’ll tell Greypaw you asked after him.”
Ravenpaw nodded gratefully and padded over to the camp entrance, giving himself a quick wash.
Firepaw turned back to the medicine den and padded inside, shouldering aside the ferns at the entrance. Inside, Greypaw was sprawled out on his side, breathing evenly, with his injured leg sticking out and covered in cobwebs and chewed-up herbs. He looked painfully young, and Firepaw was forcefully reminded of the aging tom he’d left behind, with his shoulders weighed down by Silverstream and Feathertail and Millie and Briarlight and whatever had happened to him after he’d been taken by Twolegs (Greystripe had never given him the full story) …
He was so young. Everyone was.
“Firepaw?”
Firepaw jumped as Spottedleaf’s drowsy voice floated over to him from the corner of the den. “Spottedleaf – I was just leaving,” he managed, his voice made rough by memory. He took a step back. “Just seeing how he was doing.”
Spottedleaf dipped her lovely head. “Your loyalty does you credit,” she told him. “I’ll tell him you stopped by. He’ll appreciate it.”
“Tell him Ravenpaw came too,” Firepaw added. “He wanted to, but one of us had to wait for Tigerclaw.”
“I see.” Spottedleaf’s whiskers twitched. “You’re brave indeed, then, to risk being late for your first day of training.”
Firepaw flicked his tail. “I doubt I’d miss much.”
“That’s no way to start your apprenticeship,” she scolded. The amusement in her eyes faded as she glanced at a point over his shoulder – but just as quickly it returned, and her attention was on him again. “Good luck, Firepaw.”
Firepaw dipped his head. “Thank you, Spottedleaf.” I’m going to need it.
He stepped out of the medicine den and trotted over to the camp entrance where Ravenpaw was waiting. A cat Firepaw couldn’t quite name – a tuft-eared tortoiseshell tom with a bright red tail – was sitting nearby, finishing off a small mouse. Tigerclaw was approaching from the warrior’s den.
Firepaw sped up his pace to make sure he got there first.
The tortoiseshell tom looked up. “Ah, young Firepaw. I heard about your scrap with Longtail.” The tip of his tail twitched. “I’d introduce myself, but Bluestar tells me you know everyone’s name already.”
“Er,” Firepaw glanced at Ravenpaw in search of a clue, but Tigerclaw had approached and Ravenpaw’s mouth was sealed firmly shut.
“Redtail,” Tigerclaw meowed, dipping his head.
Firepaw gasped.
Redtail – the ThunderClan deputy that Firepaw had never met, the one who had died the same day he’d arrived. He’d been slain at Sunningrocks by Tigerclaw and the dead RiverClan deputy had taken the fall.
Oakheart. The father of Bluestar’s kits.
“Firepaw?”
Firepaw realized that the fur on the back of his spine had prickled up. He smoothed his fur back down. “Sorry?”
“Pay attention, kittypet,” Tigerclaw growled. “I said, we will be on dawn patrol today. This will introduce you to the borders and show you what you will be defending and where you will be hunting. Runningwind will be joining us shortly.”
Firepaw nodded. He glanced back at Redtail, who looked mostly amused but was examining Firepaw with an uncomfortable closeness. “What about you?” he asked. “Will you be joining us as well?”
Redtail shook his head. “I’ll be organizing the day’s patrols. But I imagine I’ll be joining you for the sunhigh patrol.”
Tigerclaw swung his head around to stare at Redtail. “The dawn and sunhigh patrols? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”
“Never,” Redtail meowed, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “You and Ravenpaw are free to train as you wish after the dawn patrol, Tigerclaw. It’s Firepaw I’ll be taking with me.”
Firepaw blinked.
“I see.” Tigerclaw’s voice was neutral. “I’ll bear that in mind. Good luck with the patrols, Redtail.”
Redtail’s whiskers twitched. “I expect I’ll need it.” He flicked his tail toward the camp entrance. “Best get going. The sun isn’t getting any less risen.”
Tigerclaw grunted and shouldered his way past Redtail and through the camp entrance. Ravenpaw bounded after him, but Firepaw lingered behind, studying Redtail and trying to commit the tom to memory.
“I hope to see you at sunhigh,” he meowed.
Redtail tilted his head. “As do I,” he replied eventually.
Firepaw dipped his head and ran after Tigerclaw.
Tigerclaw stared at Firepaw as he emerged into the forest, disapproval weighing heavily in his gaze. Firepaw stared back unflinchingly, and eventually Tigerclaw grunted and shifted to face both apprentices. “Follow me.”
Firepaw and Ravenpaw followed silently as Tigerclaw led them to an old Twoleg path – long stale, just like last time – then through Tallpines and along the RiverClan border, towards Sunningrocks.
The fur on the back of his neck prickled.
His legs began to ache as Tigerclaw led them on towards Fourtrees – his body wasn’t used to this much exercise, even though he remembered walking this exact patrol a hundred times before. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself forward, refusing to give Tigerclaw the satisfaction of seeing him struggle. He endured Tigerclaw’s Fourtrees lecture about clan loyalty in stony silence, trying to keep the sneer off his muzzle.
Judging by Tigerclaw’s glare, he was only partially successful.
They returned to camp shortly before sunhigh, the pads of Firepaw’s feet were raw (he suspected they might be bleeding, but he refused to check until he was out of sight of Tigerclaw) and his muscles were burning badly enough that he was hiding a limp.
Ravenpaw dropped back next to him when Tigerclaw wandered off in the direction of the fresh-kill pile. “Are you okay?” he whispered. “Patrols don’t usually travel that fast.”
Well, that was concerning. “I’m fine,” Firepaw assured him, stretching his legs carefully. “Just a little sore. Not used to that much walking.”
“You’ll get there,” Ravenpaw meowed encouragingly. “All apprentices have that problem. It just takes some getting used to.”
Firepaw dipped his head in gratitude and padded over to Spottedleaf’s den, ducking inside to see Greypaw chewing disconsolately on a mouse. He perked up when he saw Firepaw approaching, gulping down a mouthful of fresh-kill.
“You’re alive!” he said cheerily. “Spottedleaf said you stopped by. How’s Tigerclaw?”
“The elders keep telling me to keep an open mind,” Firepaw drawled, coming over to sit next to Greypaw and inspecting his paws. They were sore, but they didn’t appear damaged – not like they had been when he’d run himself bloody on the stones of SkyClan’s gorge territory. “I’ve kept an open mind, and my open mind has decided that I hate him and all that he stands for.”
Greypaw blinked. “Um. Okay. That bad?”
“That bad.”
Greypaw blinked again. “Well, all right then.” He pushed the rest of his mouse over to Firepaw. “Did you eat yet?”
“Not yet.” Firepaw dipped his head gratefully and finished up the mouse. “How long are you stuck here for?”
Greypaw shrugged a shoulder. “Probably just today. Spottedleaf says that another night’s rest should get me back to normal.”
“That’s good,” Firepaw meowed. He licked his paws briefly. “I’m glad you’re here, Greypaw.”
“Um.” Greypaw blinked. “Me too?”
“I’m on sunhigh patrol with Redtail,” Firepaw added. “So I can’t stay. Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”
Greypaw shrugged. “I’m fine. Bored, but fine.” He flicked his tail at Firepaw’s side. “Now get going! You don’t want to be late for Redtail.”
Firepaw purred. “You’re probably right. Bye, Greypaw.”
“See you later!”
Firepaw left the medicine den behind as he padded over to the camp entrance, where Redtail was speaking to Dustpaw and Runningwind. The deputy looked over as Firepaw approached.
“Ah, there you are. Visiting Greypaw?”
Firepaw nodded.
Redtail nodded approvingly. “Your loyalty does you credit. Have you eaten?”
Firepaw shrugged. “We shared a mouse.”
“Good.” Redtail stood up. “We’ll be checking the RiverClan border today. I assume Tigerclaw showed you the area?”
“He did,” Firepaw admitted grudgingly.
Redtail paused. “Why don’t you lead us there, then?”
Firepaw had the sinking feeling that he’d done something wrong, but he just nodded and led the patrol out of camp with Redtail shadowing his every pawstep and Dustpaw grumbling under his breath.
He led the patrol towards Sunningrocks on instinct, until he realized where he was taking Redtail, of all cats, and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Did you get lost?” Dustpaw hissed.
(Firepaw did not smack Dustpaw in the face with his tail, and anyone who says so is a liar in Tigerclaw’s employ.)
“You’re going the right way,” Redtail meowed. “Is something wrong?”
You shouldn’t be here, Firepaw thought, but there was no good way to say that without getting thrown in the river himself, so he just shook his head and kept going – a little slower, this time. Maybe if he delayed long enough, the sunhigh patrol would miss RiverClan’s patrol and everything would be fine. Tigerclaw and Ravenpaw were elsewhere. Maybe it would be fine.
He tasted the air and his heart sank as he caught the scents of Tigerclaw and his apprentice.
“Fox dung,” he muttered.
“What was that, Firepaw?”
Firepaw glanced back at Redtail. “Tigerclaw and Ravenpaw are ahead.”
Redtail’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t offer comment.
Dustpaw did. “Didn’t Tigerclaw say he was going to take Ravenpaw for battle training?”
“Perhaps he had a change of heart,” Redtail meowed.
Firepaw couldn’t take his eyes off Redtail. “Maybe,” he said doubtfully.
Redtail brushed past Firepaw and took over the patrol without a word. Firepaw trailed after him, stumbling to the side when Dustpaw knocking him aside to follow his mentor, leaving Firepaw in the back with Runningwind.
Runningwind didn’t speak, but he could feel the warrior’s eyes burning holes in his fur as they followed Redtail onward, inexorably toward Sunningrocks. With every pawstep, Firepaw felt the little cold ball in his stomach growing heavier and heavier. He struggled to keep his paws moving – at this point, his ears were permanently pinned to his skull and he’d given up on them entirely.
The trees thinned, and Sunningrocks was ahead. Firepaw’s heart sank as he saw a reddish-brown tom yowling a challenge from the top of Sunningrocks.
Redtail ground his teeth audibly as Firepaw stepped up behind him, scrambling to remember exactly what had happened last time – Redtail had been slain by Tigerclaw, but it had been the RiverClan deputy who had taken the blame – but it was so long ago –
“Save them,” Pinestar hissed in his ear. “Save them both, Firestar of ThunderClan. Let no lifeblood be shed this day!”
“Might be difficult,” Firepaw mumbled as Tigerclaw stalked out of the woods, snarling a response to Oakheart’s taunts. Ravenpaw trailed behind him, trying to disappear into his mentor’s shadow; the fur on the back of Firepaw’s spine stood up and he felt his lip curl.
Oakheart said something – something Firepaw didn’t catch – and Tigerclaw flung himself at the RiverClan deputy with a yowl of outrage.
Redtail and Dustpaw surged forward. Firepaw made to follow, but Runningwind caught him by the tail. “Stay back,” he growled, and lunged forward to join the fight.
Firepaw did not stay back.
He darted through the fray to where Tigerclaw and Oakheart were trading blows and Ravenpaw was struggling underneath a RiverClan warrior Firepaw didn’t recognize. He leapt onto her back and sank his teeth into her shoulder. She yowled, but Firepaw clung on long enough for Ravenpaw to scramble to his feet and flee before leaping away and slipping up to Redtail’s flank.
The deputy’s right side was guarded by Dustpaw, who fought with all the ferocity Firepaw remembered and only half the skill. Firepaw took the left, matching Redtail blow for blow until he heard a yowl of pain from Oakheart.
He glanced up to the top of Sunningrocks to see Oakheart backing away from Tigerclaw with a hiss, bleeding profusely from a set of deep scratches on his shoulder. His eyes darted around, settling for Firepaw for a fleeting moment before raising his voice to a yowl.
“RiverClan! Retreat!”
Firepaw watched as the RiverClan cats hissed and followed their deputy’s orders. The apprentice Firepaw had pulled off of Ravenpaw limped as she pulled herself out of the river, sending a venomous glare in Firepaw’s direction before disappearing into the undergrowth.
He took a cautious step toward the place where Tigerclaw and Oakheart were still waiting, staring each other down as Oakheart watched his clanmates vanish into his territory.
The rockfall – there’s supposed to be a rockfall.
“This isn’t over,” Oakheart hissed, taking a step backwards.
The sudden crack of crumbling stone filled the air.
Firepaw saw Oakheart’s eyes widen.
He saw Sunningrocks begin to move.
Let no lifeblood be spilled this day.
Firepaw lunged forward, throwing his full weight into Oakheart’s unbalanced form. Oakheart yowled in surprise as he fell away from Firepaw’s outstretched paws and then –
Crushing pain, and nothing.
~~
“You idiot!”
Firepaw pried his eyes open to find himself in the same clearing from his dream the previous night. Pinestar was standing over him, prodding him anxiously.
“Get off,” he growled weakly, batting Pinestar’s paw away. “You told me to save them.”
“Not at the cost of your own life!” Pinestar yowled. “Firepaw, you cannot fathom how important you’ve become – it was only thanks to you that Tigerstar was thwarted –”
“This was your idea,” Firepaw hissed. “Live with it! Or don’t,” he added. “In your case.”
Pinestar made a strangled noise in his throat and stepped back, allowing Firepaw to rise to his feet.
Standing next to Pinestar was a faint, shimmering outline of a young ginger tom.
“Oh,” Firepaw said faintly.
Pinestar snorted. “Oh, indeed. You’re lucky that bringing you back seems to have restored all nine of your lives, not just the one you were born with.”
“Indeed,” Firepaw mused. This changed things a fair bit…
“You have eight left,” Pinestar reminded him. “Don’t get caught in any more rockslides.”
“No promises.”
The clearing faded with Pinestar’s yowl of frustration ringing in Firepaw’s ears.
~~
“Firepaw!”
Firepaw shot to his paws, gasping for air. His chest ached abominably – he looked down and saw the shattered remains of the top of Sunningrocks shattered at his feet.
“You…” Oakheart trailed off, shaking his head. The muscular tom backed away and turned tail, limping into the forest after his clanmates.
Firepaw stared at the cats around him. Runningwind was staring up the slope of Sunningrocks, craning his neck to try and see what was happening, jaws still half-parted in a yowl. Ravenpaw was nowhere in sight. Dustpaw was bleeding from some injury and Redtail was largely concerned with his apprentice’s wellbeing. Tigerclaw –
Tigerclaw was staring at him as if he’d never seen him before.
“What are you?” the tabby warrior hissed.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Firepaw snarled. He stepped around the stunned warrior and leaped lightly down Sunningrocks to greet an increasingly-agitated Runningwind.
The tabby warrior sniffed him, giving him a careful once-over. “Are you injured?”
Firepaw shrugged. “Not badly. Just some bruises.”
Runningwind narrowed his eyes. “You’ll be seeing Spottedleaf when we get back.”
Arguing would be useless, so Firepaw just dipped his head. “Where’s Ravenpaw?”
“Heading back to camp to tell them what happened here,” Runningwind told him as they both walked over to Redtail and Dustpaw. “You may want to catch up with him. He was quite worried you’d died.”
“Sounds like Ravenpaw,” Firepaw admitted. Technically, he’s not wrong. “Are you okay, Dustpaw?”
“It’s nothing,” Dustpaw said through gritted teeth.
Redtail snapped at him to be quiet.
Now that he was closer, Firepaw could see several deep claw marks in Dustpaw’s side. They didn’t look deep enough to be life-threatening on their own, but they looked painful and – based on what Firepaw had picked up from Cinderpelt and Yellowfang – very likely to get infected.
“I think you need to see Spottedleaf more than I do,” he meowed.
Redtail spared him a glance and nodded curtly. “Come,” he ordered. “We return to camp. Another patrol with have to secure the rest of the border.” He gave Firepaw a nod. “You fought well.”
“Thanks,” Firepaw replied dumbly. “You’re not dead either.”
Tigerclaw growled.
~~
Greypaw was sharing a mouse with Sandpaw – who was actually tolerable when she wasn’t sneering at Firepaw – when Ravenpaw came crashing through the tunnel, shaking from ears to tail-tip. Greypaw saw blood staining the dark fur on Ravenpaw’s chest as he staggered forward.
“Ravenpaw?” Bluestar stepped forward, her blue eyes clouded with worry. “What’s happened?”
“Firepaw –” Ravenpaw’s voice splintered. “Firepaw’s dead!”
Murmurs and hisses swept through the camp. “Ha!” Darkstripe yowled derisively. “The kittypet can’t even last a day –”
“You shut your fox-tongued mouth, Darkstripe!” Greypaw yowled, wheeling on the tabby warrior. “Firepaw saved my life!”
Darkstripe sneered. “Oh, and a fine life it was if you needed a kittypet to save you –”
“Enough!” Bluestar commanded, shouldering her way through the hastily-parting crowd. “Firepaw was a part of this clan, and we will mourn him as we would any clanmate.” She said this as she stared at Darkstripe, who lowered his head with ill grace.
When she was satisfied, Bluestar turned to regard Ravenpaw. “What happened?”
Ravenpaw swallowed. “We m-met five RiverClan warriors at Sunningrocks,” he meowed. “Along with Redtail’s patrol. Oakheart was among them –”
“Oakheart!” Greypaw hissed. “If that fox-hearted coward killed Firepaw –”
“Shut up!” Sandpaw snapped.
“– the fighting was vicious,” Ravenpaw was saying. “I saw Firepaw f-fighting a RiverClan warrior – Oakheart called a retreat, but –”
A yowl cut off the rest of Ravenpaw’s sentence as the bracken tunnel into camp shivered. Tigerclaw entered camp first, then Redtail, who was supporting a wounded Dustpaw.
Greypaw felt his hackles rise. If they’d left Firepaw to be eaten by crows –
He saw a flash of ginger fur and Firepaw entered camp, alive and whole and (mostly) unhurt, a few paces behind Redtail.
The ginger apprentice padded over to Greypaw after exchanging a quiet word with Dustpaw, seemingly oblivious to the stares of the clan.
“Well, that was exhausting,” he meowed, flopping down beside Greypaw and starting to groom himself – Greypaw noticed belatedly that the fur on Firepaw’s back and shoulders was sticking out in every direction.
“What happened?” Sandpaw asked. “Ravenpaw came barreling into camp yowling that you were dead. Greypaw nearly clawed Darkstripe’s ears off.”
Firepaw paused in his grooming. “Really?”
Greypaw shuffled his paws in front of him. “Darkstripe’s a mouse-brain,” he muttered.
Firepaw snorted. “You can say that again. I’m assuming he said something about kittypets.”
“Shock of shocks.” Greypaw tilted his head. “Didn’t you say you weren’t always a kittypet?”
Firepaw nodded as he smoothed down the fur on one shoulder. “When Lionheart found us after the fox fight, I think.”
“You weren’t?” Sandpaw meowed. “What were you, then? A loner?” A sneer entered her voice. “A rogue?”
Firepaw sighed. “No and no – well, actually,” he corrected himself, “depending on your definition of rogue, then I suppose I was one for a while.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Greypaw meowed hastily, seeing Sandpaw’s eyes narrow. “Are you okay? What happened at Sunningrocks?”
“I’m fine,” Firepaw said wearily. He sighed. “Look, Oakheart called a retreat but part of Sunningrocks started to collapse. I pushed him out of the way, but I got clipped by the landslide. I guess from Ravenpaw’s perspective it looked like I was buried.” As he spoke, he was staring at a fixed point over Greypaw’s shoulder.
Greypaw twisted around to see Tigerclaw standing maybe a fox-length away, staring right back at Firepaw. After a moment, he turned and stalked toward the medicine den.
Firepaw got to his feet. “I should go see how Dustpaw’s doing. Those scratches looked nasty.”
Greypaw watched him go.
“He doesn’t look like he was clipped by a rockslide,” Sandpaw meowed suspiciously. “He doesn’t have a mark on him, but he walks like he got hit by a badger.”
Greypaw nodded. “And Ravenpaw’s not stupid. He’s nervous,” he added, “but he doesn’t make mistakes like ‘buried’ instead of ‘knocked down’.” Something else occurred to him. “And why would he push Oakheart out of the way? He’s not ThunderClan.”
“Maybe he was born in RiverClan,” Sandpaw suggested, “but he got grabbed by the Twolegs and they made him a kittypet.”
“I feel like we would have heard about that,” Greypaw muttered. “It would have come up at a Gathering.”
“Not if it happened after the last Gathering,” Sandpaw disagreed. “The full moon is tomorrow night. It’s possible.”
“Maybe,” Greypaw meowed, staring at the medicine den where Firepaw had disappeared to.
~~
Dustpaw glanced over at the entrance of the medicine den as Firepaw stepped inside and tucked himself into a corner, watching silently. The voices of Redtail and Spottedleaf faded to a dull murmur as Dustpaw remembered what Firepaw had whispered to him as he walked past.
“Stay close to Redtail.”
He shivered. There was something about Firepaw – a weight to him that made him hard not to listen to – but those four words had carried a world of experience and command that Dustpaw couldn’t even fathom.
Stay close to Redtail.
Dustpaw glanced over at his mentor and silently vowed that he would.
 CHAPTER NOTES
So, I've never actually read Redtail's Debt and I don't have any plans to do so - so if my Redtail is totally different to Redtail's Debt Redtail... that's why lmao.
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought. If you liked the chapter, check out my tumblr @smug-albatross where I make jokes and write for a bunch of fandoms. As always, Ouroboros is cross-posted on Ao3.
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Non-binary
!Rowanfur
i love SEAGULLS and my GIRLFRIEND
Pronouns: they/them, he/him
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Post by !Rowanfur on Apr 26, 2019 22:01:54 GMT -5
god i love this line so much!!!! and just the entirety of it really. your writing is really superb, and i'm so curious to see how things turn out next!
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Post by SmugGull on Apr 26, 2019 22:04:22 GMT -5
Aah thank you! I was actually pretty proud of that line - Firepaw still isn't totally adjusted to what's going on, so sometimes the whole situation blindsides him a bit.
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Post by valleylight on Apr 27, 2019 0:18:22 GMT -5
Great chapter! I was surprised when you went with multiple perspectives, but it works really well, and I'm excited to see more of the apprentices' POVs. I also love the nine lives element. It adds a new depth to the story, but if future "deaths" are anything like the first, it'll make for some pretty hilarious scenes. Poor Ravenpaw's going to be even more traumatized than usual, seeing Firepaw die and come back like that!
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Post by owlspots on Apr 27, 2019 6:40:07 GMT -5
I'm so psyched oh my gosh that was so good! I loved the last little section from Dustpaw's perspective, and I think the nine lives idea is such a good one. I just hope Firepaw doesn't lose them all trying to save cats who weren't supposed to die even though that's exactly the sort of thing he'd do
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Post by SmugGull on Apr 27, 2019 15:03:51 GMT -5
Thank you both!! I do tend to jump around a bit, perspective-wise - the next chapter should see a little more of Greypaw in particular.
And Firepaw's shiny new nine lives (well, eight) is absolutely going to be the source of much concern and drama. Pinestar is going to hate every second of it.
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Post by phantomstar57 on Apr 27, 2019 21:55:22 GMT -5
Great chapter!
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Post by SmugGull on Apr 27, 2019 22:43:25 GMT -5
Thank you!
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Post by copperfur on Apr 29, 2019 3:42:28 GMT -5
Just finished this now. Had been expecting a PM, but it's all good. ^_^ I love it to bits. I can not wait to read ch 3.
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Post by SmugGull on May 4, 2019 1:16:19 GMT -5
CHAPTER THREE
The day of the Gathering passed without incident. Most of the warriors seemed content to believe that Ravenpaw had simply been mistaken about Firepaw’s untimely demise, but the other apprentices were all acting oddly. Ravenpaw was skittish to the point of not making eye contact, Greypaw had glued himself to Firepaw’s side – except for when he was engaged with fiercely whispered conversations with Sandpaw that ended whenever Firepaw got close. Dustpaw was confined to the medicine den, but Firepaw had caught him sneaking out to follow Redtail on the dawn patrol.
At least he was taking Firepaw’s warning seriously.
Firepaw listened patiently as Lionheart and Tigerclaw taught him, Greypaw, and Ravenpaw the basics of hunting mice and rabbits (as if Firepaw didn’t know this already – as if Firepaw hadn’t taught this already). The highlight of the morning was when, after being encouraged to practice stalking, Firepaw had stalked Tigerclaw.
The presence of the others was likely the only reason both Firepaw and Tigerclaw were still alive.
Tigerclaw was as cruel to Ravenpaw as ever, and the pouncing incident had been preceded by a snarling match that Lionheart had to break up. Firepaw had caught a pair of mice, however, which he had presented to the warriors with no small amount of smugness after Tigerclaw’s constant criticism.
At sundown, Firepaw brought Dustpaw and Spottedleaf fresh-kill without thinking about it. His mind was too preoccupied with what Redtail had just told him – that he and Sandpaw would be attending the Gathering.
He didn’t know what had happened at this Gathering. Sandpaw and Dustpaw had told him, probably, at some point, but he couldn’t remember any of it and it disturbed him.
“Firepaw?”
Firepaw blinked and looked at Dustpaw. “Hm?”
Dustpaw glanced over to where Spottedleaf was nosing through her store of herbs and lowered his voice. “Why did you tell me to stay close to Redtail?”
Firepaw shuffled his paws in the mossy ground of the medicine den. “It’s just a feeling,” he lied, “but I think he’s in danger.”
Dustpaw’s ears fell back against his skull. “You think RiverClan will want revenge?” he whispered. “For Sunningrocks?”
Firepaw shook his head. “Not RiverClan.” He stood, eager to escape before Dustpaw could ask any questions Firepaw couldn’t answer. “I should go. Bluestar will be calling the cats for the Gathering soon.”
Dustpaw looked like he wanted to say more, but he nodded. “Good luck.”
Firepaw’s whiskers twitched. “You too, Dustpe – paw,” he corrected himself, wincing. He’d gotten so caught up in the conversation – which was so much like one he might have had with Dustpelt the warrior instead of Dustpaw the apprentice – that he’d forgotten who, exactly, he was talking to.
Spottedleaf watched him leave.
~~
As ThunderClan crested the slope that led to Fourtrees, Firepaw was hit by a wave of memory so powerful it froze him in place.
The massive Twoleg monsters roared as they tore the ancient oaks from the earth and flung them aside like a fox would a mouse – the Great Rock was crushed to rubble with a deafening blast that shook the world –
Firepaw staggered under the memory’s crushing weight. It was over, the clans were dying –
Surely the world was ending –
“Firepaw!”
Runningwind’s impatient mew cut through the memory like claws through water. Firepaw’s eyes snapped up to meet the tabby’s impatient green gaze.
The young warrior’s expression quickly morphed from irritation to concern. “Are you all right?”
Firepaw flicked his tail, trying for nonchalance and missing by several fox-lengths. “I’m fine,” he mewed shakily. “It’s nothing.”
He brushed past Runningwind and loped into the clearing after the rest of the clan, trying to conceal his trembling.
For all his knowledge, for all his skill, he couldn’t stop the Twolegs from coming to the forest.
The first cat he saw was Tallstar, speaking amicably with Crookedstar at the base of the Great Rock. He recognized Deadfoot nearly, squinting suspiciously at the surroundings. Onestar – Onewhisker – wasn’t far away, chatting happily with a pair of cats Firepaw didn’t recognize. The sight of Onewhisker sent a pang through Firepaw. Leadership changed a cat, he reflected, and not always for the better.
Brokenstar sat alone with Blackstar – Blackfoot, Firepaw corrected himself – exchanging murmured words and shooting venomous looks in WindClan’s direction. His warriors clustered near him, talking among themselves, and the apprentices started to mingle with other clans.
The apprentices. The apprentices were tiny – they were kits – one had the same tabby pelt as Leafpool and Firepaw felt his stomach twist in horror at the thought of his gentle daughter as a kit, forced into a battle between trained warriors.
Firepaw pinned his ears to his skull and hissed.
“What’s up with you?” Sandpaw asked, appearing on Firepaw’s other side. She followed her gaze to the ShadowClan cats and her ears fell. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Firepaw spat, raking his gaze. “Look at the apprentices, Sandpaw.”
Sandpaw squinted. “They look small,” she said uncertainly.
“Small?” Firepaw spat. “They’re kits! That one there,” he pointed to the tabby kit that reminded him of Leafpool, “how old do you suppose she is? Four moons? Five?”
Sandpaw was visibly uncomfortable. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “She could be six moons old. Maybe she’s just small.”
“And the others?” Firepaw demanded, swinging around to glare at her. “Are they also just small?”
Sandpaw took a step back. “I don’t know!” she snapped. “It’s in the warrior code – kits can’t train to be warriors before six moons – not that you’d know,” she added with a sneer. “Even ShadowClan wouldn’t –”
“Wouldn’t what?” Firepaw snapped. “Send its kits into battle against grown warriors?”
“You can’t prove that’s what ShadowClan is doing!”
“Can’t I?” Firepaw snarled and stalked into the crowd.
Once he was out of Sandpaw’s sight, he sat down on an unoccupied patch of ground and took a deep, calming breath. He hadn’t meant to jump down her throat like that, but he couldn’t look at the tiny ShadowClan “apprentices” without seeing Squirrelkit and Leafkit and Lionkit and Hollykit and Cloudkit and Dovekit and Ivykit – Lionblaze, admittedly, would be fine no matter his age, but the others – the others – StarClan, Jayfeather had struggled as an apprentice, how much worse would it have been as a kit –
It made Firepaw sick.
He shut his eyes to banish the image of little Leafkit, her throat stained with lifeblood, sprawled motionless on the forest floor.
“Young Firepaw.”
Firepaw’s eyes snapped open to see Tigerclaw looming over him, his face inscrutable.
“Tigerclaw,” he replied coolly.
Tigerclaw’s expression did not change. “Is something the matter?”
“Should there be?” Firepaw challenged, rising to his feet.
“Perhaps your…injuries,” Tigerclaw said delicately, “from the rockfall are troubling you. It was bold of Bluestar bring you.”
“I could say the same,” Firepaw remarked. “I remember you were bleeding quite badly after the battle.”
“Scratches, nothing more,” Tigerclaw said dismissively. “But you took quite a beating. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a leader who lost a life.”
Firepaw couldn’t prevent the tip of his tail from twitching with nerves. “Would you?”
“If I didn’t know better,” Tigerclaw repeated, searching his face for something.
A yowl from the Great Rock silenced any response from Firepaw beyond a reflexive hiss. Tigerclaw turned and shouldered his way closer to the Great Rock.
Firepaw heard approaching pawsteps and turned to see Sandpaw settling herself down beside him. “Yeah, okay,” she muttered. “They look too young.”
Firepaw glanced at her but did not respond.
~~
Greypaw was woken from an extremely pleasant dream involving a series of fat, slow mice marching across a clearing and into his waiting claws by a sharp jab to the side.
He woke with a jolt, blinking blearily up at the pale ginger form standing above him.
“Sandpaw?” He prepared to burrow deeper into the moss and try and go back to sleep. “Can’t you wait to brag about the Gathering until tomorrow?”
“It’s important,” Sandpaw hissed. “It’s about Firepaw.”
Suddenly, Greypaw was very much awake. “Is he okay?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” Sandpaw lashed her tail, barely missing Ravenpaw’s ears. Both apprentices froze as the black apprentice stirred in his nest.
“Not here,” Sandpaw hissed. “Come on.”
Greypaw heaved himself to his feet reluctantly and slipped out of the apprentice’s den behind Sandpaw. He followed her to a small alcove behind the nursery, where Dustpaw was already waiting, crouched low.
“What’s this about?” he hissed as they approached.
“Firepaw recognized some of the ShadowClan cats at the Gathering,” Sandpaw whispered.
Greypaw shrugged. “So? He knew who Spottedleaf was before he even got to camp. And he greeted Bluestar by name.” And me, he added – he couldn’t help feeling a little proud of that.
“Exactly.” Sandpaw seemed to be warming up to something, so Greypaw shifted his position to settle in for the long haul. “What if he’s not from RiverClan, but ShadowClan? He told me ShadowClan was training kits as warriors and sending them in battle –”
Dustpaw bristled. “They’re doing what –”
“Shh!” Sandpaw hissed. “That’s not the point –”
“How is that not the point?” Greypaw barely managed to avoid yowling. “That’s against the warrior code – you definitely need to tell Whitestorm –”
Sandpaw slapped her tail over his mouth and Greypaw choked on a mouthful of fur. “Think, mouse-brain,” she hissed. “What if Firepaw’s from ShadowClan?”
Greypaw batted her tail away. “That’s ridiculous,” he hissed back. “Firepaw can’t be from ShadowClan.”
“Why not?” Sandpaw challenged. “Think about it. He’s not any older than you and he acts like he’s already been training for moons – he fought a fox, he survived the fight with RiverClan –”
“What about saving Oakheart, then?” Dustpaw pointed out. “Why’d he do that if he’s from ShadowClan?”
Sandpaw paused. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” she admitted. “But I will.”
“Well, while you do that, I’m going back to sleep,” Greypaw muttered, slipping out from behind the nursery. “Let me know how your conspiracy theory goes –”
“Young Greypaw.”
Greypaw froze.
Lionheart was sitting barely a tail-length away, his eyes narrowed. Whitestorm was just behind him. “Would you three care to explain yourselves?” he asked mildly.
“Um.” Greypaw blinked. “…no?”
“Try again,” Whitestorm suggested. Then he raised his voice. “Sandpaw! Dustpaw!”
Sandpaw slunk into the open from the other side of the nursery, looking equal parts sullen and indignant. Dustpaw followed, looking not unlike a startled rabbit.
“Now that all parties are present,” Lionheart began, his words short and clipped, “who wants to start?”
“It’s about Firepaw,” Sandpaw blurted out.
Greypaw cringed. “Oh, for StarClan’s sake –”
“Shut up,” Sandpaw hissed. “I’m serious! What if he really is from ShadowClan?”
To Greypaw’s surprise, Lionheart and Whitestorm didn’t immediate dismiss this as complete nonsense (because seriously, it was Firepaw – RiverClan maybe, but never ShadowClan –) and shared a mysterious look.
“Go back to your nests,” Lionheart said eventually. “We’ll discuss this in the morning.”
~~
Firestar looked up from the rabbit he was sharing with Sandstorm as Brambleclaw padded up to him, looking solemn and tired. Nerves clawed at Firestar's stomach as his deputy opened his jaws and spoke -
“Wake up, kittypet!”
Firestar blinked as Dustpelt's voice came out from Brambleclaw's mouth. "Brambleclaw, what -?"
Brambleclaw cut him off with an impatient lash of his tail. “Firepaw!” he yowled, in Dustpelt's voice.
Sharp pain stabbed into Firestar's ribs. He woke with a hiss and zeroed in on the offender immediately. “Unless badgers are attacking camp again, I don’t want to hear it –”
Dustpaw’s wide-eyed face stared down at him. “What do you mean again?”
...fox-dung.
“Don’t worry about it,” Firepaw muttered, heaving himself to his feet. “What is it?”
Dustpaw huffed, recovering his usual prickly manner almost immediately. “You’re training with me and Sandpaw today. Whitestorm and Redtail are waiting.”
Firepaw’s ears twitched as he gave himself a hasty groom. “Not Tigerclaw?”
“Not today,” Dustpaw told him. “Hurry up!”
Firepaw hurried after Dustpaw, blinking in the early morning light. Redtail and Whitestorm were indeed waiting for them – Whitestorm especially looked uncharacteristically solemn. Firepaw glanced at Dustpaw for any hint as to what was going on (something was off, but Firepaw couldn’t tell what), but Dustpaw’s face was expressionless. Even Sandpaw – sitting next to Whitestorm – had plastered a completely neutral expression on her face.
Firepaw was starting to wonder if this was a new nightmare he’d have to add to the roster.
“You’ll be training with us today,” Redtail told him. “Come.”
What in StarClan’s name? Firepaw tried to catch Sandpaw’s eye as they left camp, but she was avoiding his gaze.
The fur on the back of his neck started to prickle. Dustpaw and Sandpaw – Dustpelt and Sandstorm – he trusted implicitly, and Whitestorm – Whitestorm had been his deputy, if only for a short while. Redtail, though, Firepaw didn’t know – but he had been Dustpelt’s mentor, and Dustpelt had turned out all right –
So, what was all this about?
Firepaw sat down in the middle of the path and curled his tail over his paws.
Dustpaw stopped immediately. “Firepaw –”
“Tell me what’s going on,” Firepaw said flatly. “You’re all acting like I’m going to turn into –” Don’t say Tigerstar, “– Brokenstar at the drop of a hat. Even Sandpaw isn’t mouthing off.”
Ahead of him, the others had stopped as well. Redtail and Whitestorm exchanged a look and Sandpaw – were her hackles rising?
“Firepaw, come,” Whitestorm ordered, flicking his tail impatiently.
Firepaw narrowed his eyes and dug his claws into the ground in response.
Whitestorm’s ears flattened in response, but before he could speak Redtail stepped forward smoothly. “We have questions for you, young one,” he explained, flicking his tail. “Walk with us, and I will explain.”
Firepaw looked to Dustpaw, who nodded. Taking a deep breath, Firepaw sheathed his claws and stood up. “If this is a trap,” he meowed, “I’m going to haunt your dreams.”
Dustpaw’s hackles rose, but he made no response.
Firepaw fell into step beside Redtail. Sandpaw stuck by Whitestorm, but Dustpaw was hovering at Firepaw’s flank closely enough to make the latter’s pelt itch. “What kind of questions?” he meowed.
“I heard you recognized some of the ShadowClan cats at the gathering,” Redtail started. “How is that?”
Mouse-dung. Firepaw shrugged awkwardly. “I... heard some of them talking when I would sneak along their border when I lived in Twolegplace,” he muttered.
“Mouse dung you did,” Sandpaw snapped. “You said Brokenstar was training kits –”
“You saw them,” Firepaw retorted, swinging towards her. Frustration was building his chest – Sandstorm would know, Sandstorm was wise and brilliant – but Sandpaw had, largely, been an antagonist to him.
He saw a bit of Hollyleaf in her, sometimes. But right now, she was just...so young. They all were. It made his heart hurt.
He took a deep breath. “Did they look six moons old to you?”
Redtail murmured something to Whitestorm, then turned back to Firepaw. “I wouldn’t expect such outrage from one who lived outside the clans.”
“I wasn’t always a kittypet,” Firepaw muttered. Would he never be free of that stupid, stupid stigma –
“I didn’t say you were.” Redtail’s gaze was steady and Firepaw resisted the urge to shrivel beneath it. “But the question remains. What were you before you were a kittypet?”
Firepaw broke his gaze to stare at his paws. “I...” He scrambled to figure out how to filter his previous life – nine lives – into something that the cats of ThunderClan would accept. “I was part of a group of cats that lived in at the edge of the Twolegplace – near Tallpines,” he improvised, when he noticed Redtail’s ears twitch. “There weren’t very many of us, so when our leader died, I had to take over. It worked out for a while, but then...” He trailed off, at a loss for how to explain the return of Tigerstar and the onslaught of the Dark Forest without being exiled on the spot. “Then it didn’t. I think we got too close to ShadowClan’s border,” he added on impulse. “I stuck around for a bit, mostly because I had to, but staying... stopped being an option after a while.” His ears twitched towards where Sandpaw and Dustpaw were whispering, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Redtail nodded thoughtfully. There was something behind his eyes that Firepaw couldn’t read – not for the first time he cursed Tigerclaw for killing the ThunderClan deputy before Firepaw had ever met him, leaving Firepaw completely in the dark as to the kind of cat Redtail was. (And also for the much more grievous sin of committing murder – it just so happened that this particular murder was proving a serious inconvenience.)
“I see,” he meowed, stopping at the edge of the training hollow. “Then I suppose it’s time for battle training.”
Firepaw could barely concentrate on battle training. He moved automatically, mechanically, barely taking his eyes off Redtail, trying to figure out what parts of his story – if anything – Redtail had believed.
A yowl jerked him out of his thoughts – Firepaw wheeled to see Dustpaw leaping towards him and reacted. He hurled himself upwards, slamming the top of his head into Dustpaw’s exposed stomach.
The larger apprentice tumbled out of the air with a wheeze, slamming into the ground with a thud.
“Firepaw!”
Firepaw shrank back as Whitestorm approached, feeling like he was six moons old again (oh, the irony). “I –”
“Where did you learn that?”
Firepaw’s brain stuttered to a halt. “W-what?”
“Where,” Whitestorm repeated, “did you learn how to fight?”
Firepaw opened his mouth, then closed it again. “The – the cats I was with before –”
“You’re lying to me, Firepaw.”
“I’m not!” Firepaw yelped. “The clan – they taught me how to hunt and fight.”
Whitestorm’s eyes narrowed. “The clan?”
Fox dung. Firepaw scrambled for an answer that wouldn’t fall apart if Whitestorm sneezed at it – something with at least a grain of truth –
“BloodClan,” he blurted out.
...fox dung.
Well, there was no going back now. “We called ourselves BloodClan,” Firepaw repeated, trying to remember what Barley had told him all those moons ago. “We lived in and around the Twolegplace, but we weren’t...weren’t really a clan. We just answered to Scourge and followed his rules. A few of us banded together for safety and tried to run into the forest, but...” He hunched his shoulders. “It didn’t really work.”
Whitestorm stared at him.
“Go back to camp,” he meowed eventually. “That’s enough for you for today.”
~~
“Greypaw!”
Greypaw looked up with a mouthful of thrush to see Firepaw bounding towards him, looking so distressed that Greypaw immediately felt bad without knowing why.
He swallowed the bite of fresh-kill and stood up. “What’s wrong?”
“I...” Firepaw faltered, then took a deep breath and visibly braced himself. “I need to talk to you. Alone,” he added.
Greypaw hesitated. Apprentices weren’t supposed to leave camp without a warrior, at least, not without permission, but...
He looked around for Lionheart and found his mentor grooming himself near the warrior’s den. “Wait here,” he hissed to Firepaw. He trotted over to Lionheart and meowed, “Firepaw and I are going to go hunting together.”
Lionheart looked up. He looked mildly surprised but nodded. “Make sure you’re back before sundown,” he instructed. “And keep an eye on your friend.”
Greypaw dipped his head. “I will, Lionheart,” he promised.
“Good.” Lionheart’s gaze warmed. “Good luck to you both.”
Greypaw waved his tail in thanks and bounded back over to Firepaw, who was waiting anxiously, shifting his weight from paw to paw.
“I told Lionheart we were going hunting,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go.”
Greypaw took the lead, but once they were out of camp, he noticed that Firepaw start to change. His stride lengthened, his head went up and he moved with a new confidence that only came out when they were out from under the eyes of the warriors.
The fur on the back of Greypaw’s neck started to prickle, but he ignored it. Firepaw was his friend.
Greypaw started to slow down near the sandy hollow, but Firepaw surged ahead. “Not here."
Bewildered, Greypaw followed Firepaw towards Fourtrees. Firepaw bounded across the stream that ran towards the border like he had RiverClan blood (told you so, said Sandpaw’s smug voice, unbidden), but Greypaw was left struggling through the current with curses and loud splashes.
Firepaw sighed as he hauled Greypaw onto the opposite bank by the scruff of his neck. “I should have known that taking you across the river was a bad idea.” The words were tinged with amusement and melancholy and something else Greypaw couldn’t identify but sounded... almost like nostalgia.
“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Greypaw demanded, opting to start a play-fight rather than dwell on the many mysteries of Firepaw.
Firepaw’s whiskers twitched. “Never mind. Come on.”
By the time they reached Fourtrees, Greypaw’s legs ached. “Did we have to run all the way here?” he wheezed, panting loudly as he flopped down at the base of one of the mighty oaks.
Firepaw looked guilty. “I guess not,” he meowed. “It’s just... it’s been a while.”
That was a weird comment, but Firepaw’s weird comments probably weren’t why they were here. Greypaw rolled over so he was facing Firepaw straight on and rested his chin on his paws. “Okay, we’re alone. What do you need to talk about?” He figured it was Firepaw worrying about Sandpaw’s animosity or Tigerclaw being Tigerclaw, or the fight with Longtail, or the battle with RiverClan and whatever had happened then –
“StarClansentmebackfromthefuture,” Firepaw blurted out.
CHAPTER NOTES
The moment you've all been waiting for...also, Tigerclaw may be one of the smartest cats in ThunderClan, and he was right there when Firepaw lost a life. The rest of the patrol may have been out of direct line of sight, but Tigerclaw wasn't.
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought. If you liked the chapter, check out my tumblr @smug-albatross where I make jokes and write for a bunch of fandoms. As always, Ouroboros is cross-posted on Ao3. |
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Post by SmugGull on May 4, 2019 12:35:24 GMT -5
Fixed some typos sorry about that.
This is the price of doing most of my writing at 2am.
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Non-binary
!Rowanfur
i love SEAGULLS and my GIRLFRIEND
Pronouns: they/them, he/him
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Post by !Rowanfur on May 4, 2019 12:42:48 GMT -5
firepaw you devil!!!! you really did it you madman!!!!!
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Post by SmugGull on May 4, 2019 12:48:54 GMT -5
Ouroboros chapter 3, or as I like to call it - Warrior Cats Madman Edition.
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Post by owlspots on May 4, 2019 12:56:31 GMT -5
Firepaw really is on something else huh Greypaw please don't freak out I trust you more than anybody
Also I'd literally die for Dustpaw during this I'm so glad he's listened to Firepaw and keeping an eye on Redtail, I hope Redtail doesn't die either tf Tigerclaw I will end you
This is seriously so good honestly I'm hooked!!
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Post by SmugGull on May 4, 2019 15:24:09 GMT -5
Ahh thank you!!
Dustpaw would die for Redtail and Firepaw warning him about Redtail's possible impending doom is doing a lot to get the Firepaw in Dustpaw's good books.
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Post by phantomstar57 on May 4, 2019 16:11:32 GMT -5
Loved Chap 3. This is well done and fun!
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Post by valleylight on May 6, 2019 16:07:31 GMT -5
Great chapter! Things are moving pretty fast now, especially with Firepaw already having to explain himself to senior warriors. Curious to see how Firepaw will handle Brokenstar in the future, and maybe keep WindClan from getting run out.
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Post by 𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗜𝗘〡𝑟𝑦𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑢𝑘𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 on May 6, 2019 17:59:42 GMT -5
AH this is such an absolute blast to read... im intrigued about the bloodclan thing and also reading about the kit warriors almost made me cry so good for you
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Post by SmugGull on May 6, 2019 18:41:33 GMT -5
Aww thank you guys!! I'm so glad you're enjoying it.
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Post by copperfur on May 6, 2019 20:04:40 GMT -5
I loved this chapter. I wonder how Redtail knew Firepaw was lying.
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 6, 2019 21:12:36 GMT -5
Fan me please. It's getting a bit late so I'll have to work on catching up tomorrow.
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Post by SmugGull on May 6, 2019 21:50:41 GMT -5
Will do! I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far.
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Post by SmugGull on May 8, 2019 19:38:42 GMT -5
Update - this chapter has me completely throwing Redtail's Debt out the window and henceforth claiming full dominion over Redtail's character. At least for this fic.
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Post by SmugGull on May 9, 2019 10:50:19 GMT -5
An excerpt from tomorrow's chapter!
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Post by mintedstar/fur on May 9, 2019 14:37:15 GMT -5
O.O
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Post by SmugGull on May 9, 2019 15:07:38 GMT -5
ehehehehe
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Post by SmugGull on May 10, 2019 21:54:36 GMT -5
CHAPTER FOUR
Greypaw blinked.
Then he blinked again, because the first time didn’t make Firepaw’s words make any more sense. “I think I misheard you,” he meowed. “Say that again?”
Firepaw’s whole body flinched. “I’d rather not,” he muttered, staring at his paws.
“No, seriously, I didn’t hear you,” Greypaw protested. “It’s all the running. What did you say?”
Firepaw took a deep breath. “StarClan sent me back from the future,” he said, enunciating clearly.
Greypaw’s ears fell back against his head. “Oh,” he muttered. “I guess I didn’t mishear you.”
“Guess you didn’t.” Firepaw’s voice had fallen flat and unhappy. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
He sounded so small and heartbroken, Greypaw wanted to lie on top of him and feed him mice until he felt better. “I didn’t say that,” he meowed quickly, feeling unreasonably guilty. “And – it’s not like I’m doubting the will of StarClan or anything,” (he was absolutely doubting the will of StarClan, if they really sent this endearing ginger weirdo back from the future,) “but, uh, how do you... know?”
Firepaw tilted his head curiously. “How do I know I’m from the future?” he repeated, sounding somewhere between confused and amused. “Well, I assume because I lived it.”
“...right.” Well, this was a theory even Sandpaw hadn’t seen coming. “So. Um. What happens in the future?”
Firepaw stretched and lay down in the grassy clearing. “Well,” he meowed, “I suppose the most important part is Tigerstar – Tigerclaw, now,” he added, seeing Greypaw’s look of confusion.
Greypaw brightened. “So, he becomes ThunderClan leader after Bluestar?” That was good – Tigerclaw was a great warrior, he’d lead ThunderClan to do great things. Then he frowned. “Wait, what happened to Redtail?”
“Two things,” Firepaw told him. “First, no, Tigerclaw doesn’t become leader of ThunderClan – he becomes leader of ShadowClan.”
Greypaw faltered. “He – what?”
“Second, he killed Redtail.”
“He what?”
“His son is a good cat though,” Firepaw mused, staring somewhere over Greypaw’s shoulder. “Well, one of them. The other less so.”
“He has kits?!”
“Yeah, four – two of them in RiverClan, one in ShadowClan, one in ThunderClan –”
“What does RiverClan have to do with –”
“Honestly, I don’t remember how that happened, it was so long ago – anyway, his RiverClan daughter ended up the medicine cat, which I heard no end of concern about from Leafpool –”
“Who?”
“My daughter, ThunderClan medicine cat.” Greypaw barely had time to register the pride on Firepaw’s face before the ginger tom was speaking again. “Anyway, his ThunderClan son – he ended up being one of my best warriors, but his RiverClan son did kill me –”
“WHAT?!”
“It was only temporary!” Firepaw said defensively. “I was the clan leader, I had nine lives!”
Greypaw sputtered. “I – well, you should have led with that!”
“I did!” Firepaw yelped. “I told you Tigerclaw’s son was one of my best warriors!”
“You didn’t give me time to process!” Speaking of processing – “And what do you mean, you were clan leader?”
This went on for some time.
Eventually, Firepaw managed to convey the important bits to Greypaw – the fact that Tigerclaw was irreversibly, irredeemably evil, that BloodClan was (arguably) worse, and that seriously, Tigerstar managed to rally every evil cat in history just to kill Firestar, because he was exactly that amount of evil.
“I need food,” Greypaw announced. “My head hurts.”
Firepaw snorted as he got to his feet. “You know you once ate yourself sick? We were still apprentices, actually.”
“Impossible,” Greypaw declared. “There’s no such thing as too much – oh, mousedung, we were supposed to hunt!”
“Owl Tree,” Firepaw said immediately. “There’s mice everywhere.”
“Unless we get eaten by the owl –”
Firepaw purred with amusement. “We won’t get eaten by the owl,” he meowed, nudging Greypaw’s shoulder. “You didn’t used to be this jumpy.”
“I didn’t used to have a best friend from the future preaching doom and gloom either,” Greypaw complained. “I also used to be a hundred moons old, to hear you tell it. I’m allowed to be a little jumpy.”
~~
“You were out late,” Mousefur meowed as they padded into camp with a mouthful of hastily-caught fresh-kill.
“Lots of prey to catch,” Greypaw offered, depositing three mice and a squirrel onto the pile. “Firepaw caught a rabbit.”
Willowpelt, Mousefur’s partner on the night watch, purred. “Impressive.”
Firepaw felt his ears heating up as he deposited said rabbit onto the fresh-kill pile. “Greypaw helped,” he said. “It was about to run off before Greypaw scared it right into my claws.”
Mousefur snorted. “Throw it on the pile, then.” She flicked her tail towards the apprentice den. “And try not to wake up the whole camp in the process. We heard you coming all the way from Snakerocks.”
“It wasn’t that long,” Willowpelt murmured.
“Felt like it,” Mousefur muttered back.
“We didn’t even come from Snakerocks,” Greypaw whined to Firepaw, padding over to the fresh-kill pile and dropping his catches on top.
Firepaw purred. “You do need to practice your stalking,” he pointed out. “If I didn’t know it was you, I would have sworn I was being stalked by a one-legged badger all the way back to camp.”
Greypaw yelped indignantly and swiped playfully at Firepaw as they headed towards the apprentice’s den.
Firepaw was a few tail-lengths away when he realized that Greypaw was no longer beside him. He turned to see his friend staring at him with wide yellow eyes that shone in the moonlight.
“Why did you tell me?” Greypaw asked quietly. “Of all cats? Why not Bluestar, or Redtail, or Spottedleaf?”
Firepaw stiffened at the mention of Bluestar as images of the fragile, broken shadow she’d been in her last moons flashed through his mind – moons of vacant eyes and angry rants and a deep, deep ache where Bluestar’s wisdom used to be, then a yawning void when she was ripped away for good – but he refocused before Greypaw could say anything about it.
“You’re my best friend,” he meowed softly. “You always have been.”
Silence stretched between them as Greypaw’s eyes grew huge. Firepaw took a cautious step forward. “Greypaw –”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Greypaw said hurriedly, which wasn't even close to what Firepaw was worried about. “Just... always?”
Firepaw swallowed a purr and dipped his head. “Always.”
~~
Days passed without incident. Firepaw and Greypaw remained joined at the flank, with Lionheart and Redtail taking on most of Firepaw’s training. (Tigerclaw had apparently dropped Firepaw in disgust after the first hunting lesson. Firepaw wasn’t complaining.)
Firepaw caught glimpses of Sandpaw’s pale ginger fur at the oddest of moments – during training, in camp, even behind the elder’s den when he was getting rid of Dappletail’s ticks – but whenever he tried to approach her, she sauntered off with a disdainful hiss.
After four days, Firepaw flopped down next to Greypaw with a huff. His fur was a dusty mess from battle training – Redtail and Whitestorm had apparently decided that it was a good idea to run him ragged today, trying to figure out what he knew (a lot) and what he didn’t (very little). He’d felt Sandpaw’s eyes on him the entire time, but whenever he’d looked over at her she’d been focusing on something else.
“You look terrible,” Greypaw said, by way of greeting.
“Thanks.” Firepaw gave his fur a few perfunctory licks. “I need your help.”
Greypaw blinked. “My help?”
“Your help,” Firepaw confirmed. “I need...” he trailed off. “I need to tell Sandpaw,” he said quietly.
Greypaw tilted his head. “Tell Sandpaw what?”
Firepaw looked at him flatly. “The best place to find marigold – what do you think?”
“Oh.” Greypaw’s eyes got huge. “Oh – that? Sandpaw?” He glanced towards the other side of camp, where Sandpaw was chomping ill-temperedly on a sparrow. “Are... you sure?”
Firepaw purred quietly. “She comes around eventually,” he said, unable to keep the wistfulness out of his voice. “Did I tell you she becomes the best hunter in the clan?”
“Twice. How exactly did you managed to get her to stop hating you, again?”
The wave of fondness that rushed through Firepaw would have been enough to knock him to the ground if he were standing. “Some days I wonder that myself.” Then he shook his head. “We’re getting off track – I knew her well in the future –” That doesn’t sound right, “– but we were never friends as apprentices. Right now, you know her better than I do.”
Greypaw shrugged. “If you say so. So, you want me to help you tell her about the,” he batted at the air, “stuff?”
Firepaw nodded. “Exactly.”
“Have you considered teaching badgers to fly?”
Firepaw swatted him. “I’m being serious!”
“So am I!” Greypaw yelped. “She thinks you’re some kind of ShadowClan spy –”
Before Firepaw could process how absurdly wrong that was, he was interrupted by Dustpaw’s loud “What?!” followed by him bolting out of the camp at top speed, leaving (of all things) a cloud of dust in his wake.
Greypaw stared. “What was that about?”
“I have an idea,” Firepaw muttered. “Come on.”
~~
Firepaw followed Dustpaw towards Sunningrocks with Greypaw on his heels, his mind churning. Anything that could get Dustpaw this riled up had to be related to Redtail. Frantically, he tried to remember if he’d seen Tigerclaw in the camp before they’d left.
With a sinking feeling, he realized he hadn’t.
Ahead of him, Dustpaw skidded to a halt so abruptly that Firepaw had to swerve to the side to avoid slamming into him. Greypaw wasn’t so lucky – he collided with Dustpaw at full speed, sending them both tumbling off the small rise and into the swallow stream below.
“Watch where you’re going, mouse-brain!” Dustpaw spat.
On the other side of the clearing, Tigerclaw and Redtail stared at the two apprentices. With a flash of horror, Firepaw realized that Tigerclaw’s claws were unsheathed – and that Redtail had been turned away from the massive tabby warrior.
“You watch where you’re going!” Greypaw hissed back. “What were you doing, freezing up like a startled rabbit?”
“Enough!” Firepaw yowled, just as Redtail opened his jaws to reprimand the two squabbling apprentices. “You’re both squirrel-brained –”
“And none of you are supposed to be out of camp without a warrior’s permission,” Redtail cut in, sounding beyond exasperated. “What are you doing here, Dustpaw?”
“Causing trouble, it looks like,” Tigerclaw rumbled.
Redtail flicked his tail reproachfully. “Well?”
Dustpaw glanced at Tigerclaw. “I – uh –”
Firepaw sighed, bounding easily down the bank to stand besides his friends. “Bluestar was looking for you both,” he lied, shooting a thinly-disguised glare at Tigerclaw. “She didn’t say why.”
Redtail paused. “I see.” He nodded to Tigerclaw. “We’ll have to continue this another time. For now, duty calls.”
Tigerclaw dipped his head. “Of course, Redtail,” he meowed. “Whenever is convenient,” he added tartly.
Redtail sighed. “Tigerclaw...”
Firepaw blinked. Why did they sound like...?
Dustpaw cleared his throat loudly. “Um –”
Redtail reached up to lick Tigerclaw’s cheek before padding over to the three apprentices. “Best be off, then.”
Firepaw stared.
In his ear, the voice of Pinestar whispered, “What?”
~~
“Did you know Redtail and Tigerclaw were mates?” Firepaw hissed at Greypaw, cornering him in camp the second they returned.
Greypaw stared at him. “You didn’t? They only broke it off a moon ago – Tigerclaw was trying to convince Redtail to step down from being deputy – I thought you were from future?”
“I never met Redtail!” It took all of Firepaw’s willpower to keep from yowling aloud in frustration. Are you telling me I have to deal with another love triangle? “Wait – did you say Tigerclaw was trying to convince Redtail to step down as deputy?”
“Ye – Dustpaw!”
Firepaw whipped around to see Dustpaw bounding towards them. “How did you know?” he hissed.
“How did I know what?” Firepaw asked warily, taking a cautious pace backward.
“Don’t play coy,” Dustpaw snapped, matching Firepaw’s step backward with a step forward. “How did you know that Tigerclaw –” his voice caught. He glanced around and lowered his voice to a whisper. “– that Tigerclaw was going to try and kill Redtail?”
Greypaw’s ears flattened. “How do you know?” he asked.
Dustpaw shot him an exasperated look. “I have eyes –”
“Okay,” Firepaw cut in, glancing around. The sun was starting to go down – the camp was winding down for the night. He though for a moment, then spoke. “Meet me...at the base of the Great Sycamore at moonhigh. I’ll explain everything.”
Dustpaw looked like he was about to argue, but Redtail’s irate yowl sounded across the clearing at that exact moment. “Firepaw! Dustpaw!”
“I think he found out you lied,” Greypaw predicted.
“At least he’s alive to find out,” Firepaw muttered. He was still reeling from the revelation that Tigerclaw and Redtail had – even formerly – been mates. It made Tigerclaw’s power-hungry murder of the ThunderClan deputy even more despicable – something Firepaw hadn’t thought was possible.
The image of Sandstorm bleeding out beneath his claws flashed into his mind, unbidden, and he shuddered.
~~
Firepaw and Dustpaw were consigned to taking care of the elder’s den every day until the next Gathering by a very displeased Redtail and treated to Tigerclaw’s most menacing glare.
Dustpaw flinched.
Firepaw didn’t bother. He slipped out of camp just after sundown, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the dirtplace. That was one benefit of being leader – you didn’t need to sneak around. You could just. Do things.
(The other benefit was no snoring denmates.)
The Great Sycamore was even taller than Firepaw remembered. He relaxed as he neared the moonlit silhouette, bounding forward and leaping up the trunk, digging his claws in and scrambling onto one of the lower branches. Then he sprawled across the thick branch and rested his chin on his paws. It was time to wait for Dustpaw.
At some point, Firepaw must have drifted off, because he found himself waking up to a hiss of “Firepaw!”
Firepaw jerked upwards, peering over the branch to see Dustpaw standing at the base of the tree, peering into the undergrowth.
The slightly rustling undergrowth.
Firepaw bunched his muscles and tracked the movement. Whoever it was, was moving around Dustpaw so silently that Dustpaw didn’t appear to notice. He clearly knew that something was up, though, and had backed up against the Great Sycamore.
The rustling in the undergrowth paused, and Firepaw swooped down upon it like an owl. He landed on something small – and furry – and yowling –
“Ravenpaw?”
Frozen beneath Firepaw’s claws was, in fact, Ravenpaw, staring up at Firepaw with wide green eyes.
Firepaw stepped back and shook out his fur, watching Ravenpaw stagger to his feet. “What are you doing here?” he hissed, exasperation overriding friendship for the moment.
“F-following you,” Ravenpaw stammered. “I – I saw –” He took a gulping breath. “I saw – what Tigerclaw was going to do – I want – I want to help.”
Firepaw sat back. “You followed him?” He was impressed – he wouldn’t have expected that of the Ravenpaw who’d lived in ThunderClan.
Ravenpaw shuffled his paws. “You said to keep an eye on Redtail,” he mumbled.
Dustpaw bristled. “How did you –”
Firepaw cut him off with a wave of his tail. “It’s okay Dustpaw.” He sighed. He supposed he would have probably told Ravenpaw eventually, but he’d been hoping it wouldn’t be this soon. “Up the tree, both of you. I’ll explain everything.”
Dustpaw and Ravenpaw followed silently. Dustpaw winced as he hauled himself onto the branch.
Abruptly, Firepaw remembered the injury he’d taken in the Sunningrock’s battle. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Dustpaw said shortly.
Firepaw let it go and sat down, curling his tail around his paws. “To start,” he meowed, “Ravenpaw, you were right. I did die when Sunningrocks fell.”
~~
Dustpaw and Ravenpaw listened in wide-eyed silence as Firepaw whispered the story of Tigerstar to Dustpaw and Ravenpaw. He told them of Tigerclaw’s murder of Redtail, his exile, his leadership of ShadowClan, and how he’d stalked the clans even beyond death, uniting the Dark Forest against the clans they thought had wronged him.
He left out most of the details – including Ravenpaw’s flight from ThunderClan – and the sleepless night, the exhaustion, the gnawing anxiety that he was going to end up driving ThunderClan into the ground. He was a leader still – he had the nine lives of one, after all – and it didn’t matter that Dustpaw and Ravenpaw were two of his oldest friends. They were still apprentices, and Firepaw wasn’t going to burden them with the details that made his paws tremble.
“Any questions?” he asked.
Dustpaw spoke first. “You – you’re sure –?”
Firepaw dipped his head. “Unfortunately.”
“We have to stop him.” Dustpaw sprang to his feet. “We can’t let him –”
Firepaw cut across him. “We’re not going to,” he promised. “But right now, he hasn’t done anything – and ThunderClan has other problems.”
Dustpaw blinked. “We do?”
“Brokenstar.” Firepaw was unable to keep the snarl out of his voice. “He’s been training kits as warriors ever since he was made leader, and he has designed on the territories of all the other clans –”
WindClan. They been driven out – he scrambled to remember when and came up with a scrap of memory from his first Gathering, where Brokenstar had announced that he had driven out WindClan. His first Gathering had been – two moons after he’d joined ThunderClan? Three? It was two, he was almost certain it was two.
“Firepaw?” Ravenpaw’s eyes and the twitching white tip of his tail were the only parts of him visible in the shadows of the Great Sycamore. “Are – are you –?”
“I’m fine,” Firepaw said automatically. “It was all just...so long ago.”
“Well it isn’t now,” Dustpaw meowed. “What do you remember?”
“Clawface kills Spottedleaf,” Firepaw spat, the old anger surging up in his bones.
Ravenpaw meowed in distress. “But she doesn’t have an apprentice – how does ThunderClan –?”
Firepaw had...actually forgotten about that part. Yellowfang had been a part of ThunderClan for so long he’d almost forgotten she hadn’t been born there. “Brokenstar – if he hasn’t exiled his medicine cat yet, he’ll do it soon, in the next couple of moons. She took refuge with ThunderClan and took up Spottedleaf’s duties after she died.”
Dustpaw looked at him like he’d gone crazy. “A ShadowClan medicine cat?” he hissed. “Are you mad?”
“That’s what you question?” Firepaw asked dryly. “Out of everything I’ve told you?”
Dustpaw sputtered. “I – well – what are we going to do about Brokenstar then?”
Firepaw sighed. “Honestly? I’m not sure. He’s dangerous – he was one of the Dark Forest’s leaders alongside Tigerstar, and when he was alive he stole kits from ThunderClan and plotted with Tigerclaw. Even demotion and exile didn’t stop him then, and I doubt death will stop him either.”
“But you said it yourself, exile won't be enough,” Dustpaw pointed out. “And if he steals kits –”
“I know,” Firepaw said. “I know. I don’t have all the answers. But everything started after Redtail died.”
Dustpaw nodded. “I won’t let him out of my sight.”
“So, we have...two moons?” Ravenpaw asked timidly. “Until Brokenstar attacks the camp?”
Firepaw nodded. “He drives WindClan out some time before – after the next Gathering, I think, but I don’t know how long after.”
“He – you know what, never mind.” Dustpaw shook his head. “How do we keep Redtail alive?”
Firepaw’s tail twitched. “Keep Tigerclaw from killing him,” he said dryly. “Tigerclaw can’t become deputy if Redtail stays alive, after all.”
“That’s what this is about?”
“Of course that’s what it’s about, what did you think –”
Dustpaw looked vaguely embarrassed. “I just – I figured Tigerclaw was jealous or something –”
Firepaw took a deep breath. “If you’re telling me that ‘jealous mate’ is a more believable Tigerclaw than ‘power-hungry tyrant’ –”
“Kind of,” Ravenpaw mumbled.
That was it. Firepaw was going to fling himself off of the Great Rock. “I should have stayed dead,” he muttered.
“You didn’t have a choice,” Pinestar reminded him, ever so helpfully.
Firepaw resisted the urge to scream.
“We should tell Bluestar,” Ravenpaw meowed timidly. “If – if Brokenstar is really going to attack the camp.”
Firepaw’s fur stood on end. “No,” he said emphatically. “Absolutely not.”
Ravenpaw flinched.
“Why not?” Dustpaw demanded. “She’s our leader!”
And a fine job she did, Firepaw thought, old pains welling up once again. “She doesn’t...” he trailed off, at a loss for how to explain. “Brokenstar, she can deal with, but Tigerclaw... his betrayal... broke her, somehow.” He shook his head. “She just stopped. Turned her back on the whole clan – on StarClan, even.”
Sharp intakes of breath told him that his friends understood. “So, what do we do, then?” Ravenpaw asked.
Firepaw grimaced. “We wait,” he admitted. “We play the long game, just like Tigerclaw. I doubt Bluestar will believe our word over Tigerclaw’s, especially since Redtail didn’t see anything, but – if you can find a way to tell Bluestar that you’re worried about Tigerclaw and Redtail without letting her know about any of this –” he waved his tail expansively, “that could help. I’ll back you up if you need it,” he added. “As a neutral third party of sorts.”
“I – I think I can do that,” Ravenpaw meowed.
Dustpaw looked uncertain, but he nodded.
“Okay,” Firepaw said. “Then the other problem is Brokenstar. Bluestar wouldn’t attack ShadowClan unprovoked, even if we made up some kind of dream – besides, that would just lead to more death.”
“And give Tigerclaw an opportunity to kill Redtail,” Dustpaw muttered.
Firepaw inclined his head. “That too. I want to get word to WindClan, to warn them, but I’m not sure how,” he admitted. “I’m too new to the clan to crossing borders on a whim.”
“Like that stopped you before,” Pinestar muttered.
Dustpaw narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “What if you told Whitestorm or Redtail that you remembered something you overheard while you were – well, I guess you weren’t really with, uh, BloodClan?” He frowned. “Are they even real, or did you make that up?”
Firepaw winced. “They’re real, unfortunately.”
“That’s...concerning,” Ravenpaw meowed hesitantly.
“BloodClan is concerning,” Firepaw told him. “But they’ve stayed in the Twolegplace this long, I doubt they’ll come to the forest this time unless someone brings them here.”
“Who brought them last time?” Dustpaw asked curiously.
“Tigerstar, of course,” Firepaw said resignedly. “What were you saying, Dustpaw?”
Dustpaw coughed. “Right, well, what if you told Whitestorm or Redtail that you remembered something you heard when you were with BloodClan about a threat against WindClan?”
Firepaw nodded thoughtfully. “It would certainly get her attention, but Bluestar wouldn’t send any aid to WindClan. If anything, she’d focus on strengthening ThunderClan in preparation.”
“So?” Dustpaw complained. “What’s so important about WindClan?”
Firepaw glared at him. “The clans need each other,” he hissed. “There’s darkness and danger on the horizon that you can’t even imagine, and without each other the clans will fracture and fall.” He straightened his spine, still staring Dustpaw down. “There are threats we cannot face on our own. StarClan brought the clans together for a reason, and I will not see them sundered.”
CHAPTER NOTES
Firepaw is just. So annoyed that he could have just said "Tigerclaw was jealous" and it would have been more effective than all the shenanigans he pulled as a warrior.
Hope you enjoyed! PLEASE leave me a comment below, I love hearing what my readers think. If you liked the chapter, check out my tumblr @smug-albatross where I make jokes and write for a bunch of fandoms. As always, Ouroboros is cross-posted on Ao3. |
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Post by embertuft on May 11, 2019 4:54:22 GMT -5
I loved this chapter! <3
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Nov 21, 2024 15:09:07 GMT -5
Nov 21, 2024 15:09:07 GMT -5
