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Post by phantomstar57 on Aug 10, 2019 10:40:04 GMT -5
Another great chapter!! I eagerly await the next. You are doing a superb job.
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Post by SmugGull on Aug 11, 2019 2:28:54 GMT -5
Ahhhh thank you so much!!
(also note- fixed a typo that had Lionheart talking to himself. oops)
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Post by SmugGull on Aug 17, 2019 4:38:03 GMT -5
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Firepaw stumbled as he approached Dustpaw’s limp form. The dark brown apprentice’s tabby haunches were covered in blood. Redtail was at his side, cleaning a battery of scratches on Dustpaw’s face while Spottedleaf applied herbs to Dustpaw’s flanks.
Redtail looked up as Firepaw approached. Firepaw watched as the older tom visibly pulled himself together before speaking.
“It was Clawface,” he said dully. “He appeared out of nowhere – by the time I could turn and help, it was already too late.”
“He’s not gone yet,” Spottedleaf meowed briskly, not looking up from her work. “Don’t go convincing yourself it’s a forgone conclusion either. Despair can kill a cat as surely as any greencough.”
“He’s a strong cat,” Firepaw offered quietly. “He’ll pull through.” He has to.
Redtail dipped his head. “Of course,” he echoed.
Most of the clan had gathered around the Highrock by now, nursing injuries. With Spottedleaf so busy -
“Is there anything I can do?” Firepaw offered.
Spottedleaf glanced up, surprise lighting up her face before her gaze softened. “There are more cobwebs and marigold in my den. Chew the marigold and apply it to anything bigger than a scratch, then secure it with the cobwebs.”
Firepaw dipped his head, darting over to the medicine den and retrieving the supplies Spottedleaf had pointed out. He moved among the wounded, approaching Bluestar twice before he’d seen to the rest of the wounded and she finally allowed him to patch her up.
“You have done this before,” she observed.
Firepaw shrugged. “It was necessary.”
He moved on before she could ask any more questions.
“How’s Dustpaw?” Sandpaw meowed anxiously when he approached.
Firepaw hesitated. “Spottedleaf is with him,” he answered slowly. “He was still alive when I left to tend to the others.”
Sandpaw’s ears fell back against her skull. “Oh.”
He turned to leave, but her voice called him back. “Was it like this last time? Do you even remember?”
Firepaw stared back at her as the memory surfaced.
A high-pitched wail rose from Graypaw’s throat and he raced over to Lionheart. Spottedleaf, who had been leaning over the ThunderClan deputy, stepped back to let the young apprentice share tongues for the last time with his mentor. As Graypaw’s howl of grief echoed around the clearing, Firepaw’s fur tingled and his blood ran cold. It was the cry he had heard in his dream.
Sandpaw hissed. “You knew? Last time, even, and you didn’t do anything then either?”
Firepaw flinched. “I didn’t know then either,” he protested, unable to meet her eyes. “If you had a dream about a crying cat, would you call it a prophecy?”
“But you knew this time,” Sandpaw hissed. “You knew for sure - when did you get your memories back, anyway? Or did you have them all this time?”
“I got them back at the Moonstone!” Firepaw protested. “Ask Ravenpaw or Greypaw, they’ll tell you -”
Sandpaw narrowed her eyes. “If -”
Whatever else she was about to say was interrupted by Frostfur emerging from the nursery. “Our kits are all safe!” she yowled, “thanks to brave Rosetail -”
“The credit goes to Firepaw and Yellowfang as well,” Rosetail added, stepped up beside Frostfur, cobwebs clumped in her shoulder where Firepaw had put them. “They fought off Blackfoot, the ShadowClan deputy, when he tried to steal the kits.”
A murmur rippled through the clans. Bluestar raised her head. “Is that so?”
Frostfur nodded.
Bluestar dipped her head to Yellowfang. “Then you have my thanks,” she meowed. “You are a brave and loyal cat, Yellowfang. In light of your actions, if you wish it, we would welcome you as a full member of this Clan.”
Firepaw purred with delight, ignoring Sandpaw’s disgruntled hiss at his side. Yellowfang blinked, shocked, then bowed her head. “I would be honored, Bluestar.”
Bluestar began to speak again. “Despite casualties, we have successfully defended ourselves against ShadowClan, but they are still a great threat. The repair work will begin immediately. Our boundaries will be patrolled constantly. We must not assume that the war is over.”
Darkstripe’s voice rose into a yowl. Firepaw turned around to see the dark tabby on his feet, tail held high, eyes glaring. “ShadowClan attacked while we were away from camp,” he growled. “They chose their moment well. How did they know that the camp was so poorly defended? Do they have eyes inside our camp?”
His gaze settled on Yellowfang. The grizzled old she-cat hissed at him in response.
“Yellowfang defended the nursery!” Firepaw snapped back. “She’s a member of ThunderClan now, or have you forgotten already?”
Darkstripe sneered. “Yes, she’s gained our trust, isn’t that convenient -”
“You sound like Tigerclaw,” Firepaw snapped. “Always making enemies out of friends.” He took a pace forward. “You’ve seen where that path leads. Do you want to join him after all?”
“Firepaw!”
Bluestar’s reprimand cut through the building tension. “Enough, both of you. You will remember your places in this clan.”
Darkstripe’s gaze dropped. “Of course, Bluestar,” he murmured.
Firepaw dipped his head. “I’m sorry, Bluestar.”
Bluestar sighed. “Whitestorm?”
Whitestorm stepped up, his white coat marred by flecks of red. “Yes, Bluestar?”
“Gather a few of the uninjured and begin repairing the walls. Everyone else - rest. Recover. Our work begins tomorrow.”
~~
Greypaw dragged Firepaw out of his nest unceremoniously at sunrise, despite the latter’s sleepy protests.
“Bluestar’s calling a meeting,” he explained, leading Firepaw out of the ferns. “Come on.”
Sandpaw groaned as she hauled herself to her feet. “Couldn’t she have waited? My legs still ache!”
“You’ll be fine,” Firepaw murmured. “But you might ask Spottedleaf -”
“I know how to take care of myself,” Sandpaw hissed. “I don’t need help from you!”
Firepaw shrugged and turned away, still too sleepy to make an argument out of it.
Bluestar was already speaking when the three apprentices took their seats near the Highrock. “Although Tigerclaw has been banished from our lands, he was also a mentor to young Ravenpaw. Since there must be no more delays in the training of our apprentices, I shall appoint Ravenpaw’s new mentor immediately.”
Firepaw’s ears pricked up. Ravenpaw sat nervously at the foot of Highrock, peering out over the assembled cats.
“Mousefur,” Bluestar announced.
The dusky brown she-cat stepped out of the crowd to face Ravenpaw, her eyes gleaming. “You have received excellent training from Speckletail, and you have shown yourself to be tenacious and honest. You will complete Ravenpaw’s training, and I expect you to pass on all you know to him.”
Mousefur bowed her head and touched her nose to Ravenpaw’s.
Firepaw purred. Mousefur was a fine warrior - she’d be a good mentor for Ravenpaw, he was sure of it.
Bluestar jumped down from the Highrock. Ravenpaw padded out of camp after Mousefur as the clan dispersed, heading to their duties for the day.
“I’m busy,” Greypaw told Firepaw, not taking his eyes off the hard-packed earth in front of him, “but Redtail wants you to help with the walls.”
Firepaw nodded, watching his friend as the grey-furred apprentice bounded over to Lionheart’s side and vanished into the forest.
He found Redtail speaking to Bluestar under the High Rock. Firepaw exchanged a polite nod with Yellowfang before approaching; he was glad to see that the grouchy old she-cat didn’t look any the worse for wear after her fight with Blackfoot.
Redtail looked up as he approached, his face clouded with emotion that Firepaw couldn’t quite decipher - there was sorrow there, and tiredness, but also relief and something closed-off an inaccessible that made Firepaw hesitate.
“Firepaw,” he meowed. “Good. You’re awake.”
Bluestar turned as he spoke, regarding Firepaw curiously. “You fought well in the battle yesterday,” she meowed. “I hope you can patch walls as well.”
Firepaw couldn’t help a nervous purr of amusement. “I hope so too, Bluestar. It’s been some time.”
Bluestar looked curious at that, but didn’t press the issue. “I’d like to speak with you before you retire tonight,” she told him. “For today, however, I leave you in Redtail’s capable paws.”
Firepaw bowed his head respectfully as Bluestar trotted off to where Whitestorm was waiting patiently near the medicine den.
“How is Dustpaw?” Firepaw blurted out. “Does Spottedleaf -”
Redtail sighed. “Spottedleaf believes he may live,” he meowed quietly, sorrow lacing his tone. The but lingered between them, unspoken; a chill crept into Firepaw’s bones. He thought of Brightheart and her lost eye, of Cinderpelt and her crippled leg, of Longtail and his ruined sight.
He wondered how badly Dustpaw had been injured to elicit that kind of reaction. “How bad is it?”
“It’s not good.” Redtail’s words were clipped. “Bluestar mentioned you regained your memories?”
Firepaw nodded. “At the Moonstone, yes.”
Redtail nodded. “Good,” he murmured. He hesitated. “Do you… remember Dustpaw, at all?”
Firepaw nodded again. “His warrior name was Dustpelt,” he meowed quietly. “He was a good father, a good mate. A good warrior. Brave, loyal, kind. He had three apprentices that I recall.” Including my daughter.
“Do you think he'll survive?” Redtail asked.
Firepaw blinked. “I’d like to,” he said hesitantly. But last time it was Lionheart in his place, and he died.
Redtail’s shoulders slumped. “I see.”
He shook himself. “Either way, you’re needed to help repair the walls. I’ve assigned you to work with Runningwind, he’ll show you want to do and get you started on your own section.”
Firepaw nodded.
Runningwind was patient without being patronizing - Firepaw appreciated it, making a mental note to make sure he got an apprentice this time.
Assuming he lives, a voice in his head offered snidely.
Firepaw ignored it, focusing on tugging his set of brambles into place.
~~
“Something’s been bothering you.”
Greypaw startled badly enough to scare a sparrow out of a nearby bush. “Huh?”
Lionheart’s whiskers twitched. “Something’s been bothering you,” he repeated. “Ever since the Moonstone, you’ve been quiet.”
“I thought I was supposed to be quiet,” Greypaw meowed cheekily.
Lionheart snorted. “And when have you ever listened to what you’re supposed to do?” His voice gentled. “So, what is it?”
Greypaw looked down at his paws. “When I was at the Moonstone… I saw something. Or, not saw I supposed - I heard something.”
Lionheart tilted his head but didn’t speak.
Guilt surged through Greypaw as he spoke again - but what was he supposed to do? Lionheart was his mentor. “When Firepaw first came to ThunderClan,” Greypaw started, “he said - he told me he was from the future. That StarClan had sent him back to fix things.”
Lionheart said nothing.
Greypaw stared at him. “Did - did you know?”
“Bluestar told me,” Lionheart said simply. “When Firepaw fell ill, he confided in her, and she confided in me.”
Greypaw stared. Why hadn’t Firepaw told him that? “I - okay.” He took a deep breath. “So, when I was at the Moonstone - when Firepaw apparently got his memories back - I was stuck in this… darkness,” he said, unable to describe it adequately. “And there were these voices - I couldn’t make them out, except for a few snatches…”
He told Lionheart what he had heard, from Firepaw’s doubt of his loyalties to the death of the mysterious Silverstream to the final, parting shot from Darkstripe - "Traitors and kittypets! Is there no decent cat left in this Clan?"
Lionheart was silent for a long moment. “I do not know the will of StarClan,” he said eventually. “If you look for meaning, you should speak to Spottedleaf. But I should inform Redtail of this - if you do not object.”
“I don’t.” Then Greypaw blinked. “Don’t you mean Bluestar?”
Lionheart nodded. “Of course. Her too.”
~~
It was sundown by the time Firepaw stopped working.
The camp looked much better now. The walls were strong again, even the nursery was still mostly repaired - Goldenflower and Frostfur were patching up the walls. Yellowfang herself was not as young as she once was and had retired to her nest beneath Highrock to nurse her raw and aching feet. Firepaw, though - Firepaw had kept working diligently until the sun dipped below the horizon, until Whitestorm had ordered him to get some rest.
“Not bad,” she remarked as the young tom approached. “You might even hold Brokenstar at bay for a few minutes next time.”
Firepaw blinked at her curiously. “You think there will be a next time?”
Yellowfang snorted. “Don’t you?”
Firepaw stiffened; his face went blank, his eyes unfocused. Yellowfang’s stomach dropped. She’d seen this kind of reaction in elders, sometimes - survivors of particularly horrible battles, or devastating illnesses - but Firepaw was only an apprentice.
“Frostfur thinks you took her kits,” Firepaw said tonelessly.
Yellowfang bristled. “What?”
“‘Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and taken my kits,’” Firepaw quoted. “The other queens tried to comfort her, but she was grieving too deeply.”
Yellowfang held her breath. She glanced furtively around the camp, relieved that nobody seemed to be paying them any mind.
“Tigerclaw said he always knew you were a traitor,” Firepaw continued in the same dead, emotionless voice. “He thought Blackfoot let you fight him off in order to gain ThunderClan’s trust and trick your way into the clan.”
“Firepaw?” Yellowfang meowed cautiously. “Can you hear me? Listen to me, apprentice - your eyes are lying. Tigerclaw’s exiled, you saw to that.”
Firepaw continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “I didn’t know what to think. Darkstripe turned to Bluestar, and -”
Firepaw jerked like he’d been stung, stumbling backwards and shaking his head. He met Yellowfang’s gaze uncertainly. “I…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Yellowfang rasped, her heart aching quietly for this young, strange apprentice.
Firepaw dropped his eyes to the ground. “Okay. I - sorry. Do you need anything? Poppy seeds?”
Yellowfang shook her head. “You have enough injured without worrying about an old she-cat’s sore paws,” she muttered. “Get some rest.”
~~
Firepaw did not get some rest. Instead, he made a beeline for Bluestar’s den. “Bluestar -”
“Firepaw?” His leader’s voice was sleepy. “Is something wrong?”
“I - not yet,” Firepaw admitted, “but soon. Do you remember when I warned you about the rats?”
Bluestar was silent for a moment. “I do. Come in, Firepaw.”
Firepaw stepped into the den, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. “I had another vision. Yellowfang said she suspected ShadowClan would attack again, and I saw Spottedleaf murdered and Frostfur’s kits stolen. Yellowfang was blamed for it by Tigerclaw, but -”
“She would be innocent,” Bluestar murmured. “So, not an attack, but an infiltration. Do you know when?”
“Tomorrow,” Firepaw told her. “I don’t know when. During the day, but it could be any time - the sky was cloudy, about to rain.”
“I see.” Bluestar sat up in her nest. “I want you out of camp tomorrow.”
Firepaw blinked. “What? Why?”
“You are our greatest weapon,” Bluestar said simply. “You see a future and know it as your own, yet you have the power to change it - you have changed it, even in the short time you’ve been here. If ShadowClan is going to attack the camp, I cannot risk you.”
“I can fight!”
“You can,” Bluestar agreed, “but you won’t.”
“Bluestar -”
“This is not up for debate,” Bluestar snapped. “This is an order, and you will follow it.”
Grudgingly, Firepaw bowed his head. “Yes, Bluestar.”
“Good,” Bluestar meowed, lying back down in her nest. “Additionally - I’d like you to brief Redtail and I on the extent of your memories tomorrow, after the attack.”
Firepaw blinked. “Of course,” he meowed.
“Good,” Bluestar repeated. “Good night, Firepaw. Sleep well.”
 CHAPTER NOTES
WELL. That's happening.
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 phantomstar57 on Aug 17, 2019 19:48:08 GMT -5
Excellent chapter once again! Looking forward to the next.
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Post by copperfur on Aug 22, 2019 3:37:03 GMT -5
You had me worried for a minute that Redtail was going to die in the previous chapter, but it was Dustpaw who was injured, so I must've misread that. lol. My bad.
Also, why does Bluestar want Firepaw out of camp in the coming battle? If he can fight, wouldn't an extra set of claws and teeth be better?
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Post by SmugGull on Aug 31, 2019 0:38:18 GMT -5
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Firepaw left ThunderClan’s camp at sunrise, just as Bluestar had instructed. Every instinct he possessed was yowling at him to turn back, to help, but he forced himself to keep walking - past the Sandy Hollow back through the forest towards Tallpines - and beyond that, the Twolegplace.
Bluestar had ordered him not to interfere in ShadowClan’s attack, to leave it to the clan.
Firepaw had no such intentions. Oh, he was leaving the clan for the day, just as he’d been ordered - but he wasn’t going to stand by and let Spottedleaf die all over again.
But first, he had something else to attend to.
Whatever he'd dreamed, he didn't remember a lick of it, but he'd woken up with the utter certainty that he needed to visit the Twolegplace and check on his sister.
Princess. He barely remembered her - he could recall her face, and he believed he'd know her scent if he smelled it, but it had been so long since he'd seen her that he just didn't remember anything else. Cloudtail stood out in his memory like a beacon, but his mother was all but lost to him.
Not this time, he vowed. He might have to leave her behind when the clans left the forest, but this time he would remember her. She was his only kin here - his only living kin at least - and the only one who remembered their mother.
Forgetting Princess wasn't as disastrous as some of his other mistakes. But it was still a mistake.
Firepaw wove his way through the back of Tallpines and leapt lightly onto the fence that separated the false forest from the rows upon rows of Twoleg nests. He walked easily along the fence, occasionally pausing to taste the air for any familiar scents - be it Smudge, Princess, or other, less savory characters.
It didn’t take long before he caught a scent he recognized. “Smudge!”
The dozing black-and-white kittypet flailed in panic. “H-h-how do you -”
“Relax, Smudge,” Firepaw meowed, stretching himself out on the fence. “It’s me, Rusty - well, Firepaw now,” he amended. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already,” he added, purring in amusement.
“Rusty!” Smudge bounded up on the fence behind him. “I thought for sure you’d been ripped up by a fox! Did you find the wild cats?”
Firepaw dipped his head. “I did. I can’t stay for long, I need to get back to them - but have you seen Princess lately?”
“Princess?” Smudge echoed. “Of course! Don’t you remember where her nest is? You used to visit it all the time when we were kits - ”
“You’re still a kit,” Firepaw muttered.
Smudge ignored him. “Come on! I’ll show you. She’ll be so happy to see you - every time I see her she asks if I’ve run into you and I never have any news - ”
Firepaw followed Smudge through the Twolegplace, letting his kithood friend’s babbling wash over him, bringing with it a wave of nostalgia. His short exchange with Smudge upon his arrival back in the past aside, he hadn’t spoken to his friend since he was a tiny kitten - the memories of Smudge had been faded and worn out by time long before the Dark Forest made its attack on the clans. Even if he let himself slide back into the murk of his past, the only thing he could remember was the night he spent in his old garden in search of SkyClan’s descendents.
“Rus - Firepaw?”
Firepaw shook himself free of his memories before he started narrating anything. “What is it?”
“Um, nothing, it’s just -” Smudge gestured awkwardly to the garden below them, “We’re here?”
Firepaw leaned down to see a heavily pregnant light brown tabby dozing in the shade of the bushes. Her paws were white, and there was a distinctive splash of white fur on her chest.
“I can’t stay,” Smudge muttered, “my housefolk will worry. But it was good to see you again.”
Firepaw nodded, meowing a quiet farewell to his friend.
Below, Princess was still asleep.
“Princess?” he meowed cautiously. His eyes darted towards the Twoleg nest - it would be incredibly embarrassing to be caught by Princess’s housefolk, and they’d probably want to send him back to his old Twolegs on top of that. “Princess!”
Princess yawned sleepily, her eyes blinking open as she looked around blearily. When she looked up and saw Firepaw, crouched on the fence above her, her face lit up.
“Rusty!” She sprung to her feet as Firepaw leapt down to meet her. “It’s been so long - Smudge told me you went to join the wild cats - are they feeding you properly? You look so thin -”
He purred as she fussed. “It’s Firepaw now,” he told her, licking her ear affectionately. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in ages - how are you doing?”
“Firepaw,” Princess echoed. Her face had turned serious. “Firepaw, are you in some sort of trouble?”
Firepaw blinked. “I - well, no more than usual. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Cats have been asking about you,” Princess hissed, lowering her voice as she glanced around, as if those same cats might spring from the bushes at any moment. “A while ago, it was these strange cats - ones from the forest -”
“A tortoiseshell with a bushy red tail?” Firepaw guessed, “and a dark brown tabby?”
Princess hesitated. “I don’t know about the tabby, but Marmalade said that the leader of the forest cats had a red tail.”
Redtail. Firepaw felt the knot of tension in his chest ease a little. “Who’s Marmalade?”
“Marmalade?” Princess flicked her tail. “Oh, he’s just a grumpy old kittypet - Oliver says that he and Pixie used to be part of Jay’s gang, but that was a long time. Don’t worry, he’s not dangerous.”
That was the second time Firepaw had heard the name Jay. “Who is Jay, anyway? I keep hearing about them.”
Princess’s eyes clouded over. “She was an old cat,” she told him. “She found some housefolk to take her in, around the time you left, but she died not long ago. Cats are saying it was a - a dog, but Marmalade swears it was a cat.” Her face was troubled.
Cats that left wounds like dogs… Firepaw’s hackles rose. “Princess, this is very important,” he meowed quietly. “Did Marmalade say anything about this cat? What they look like?”
Princess shook her head. “No, nothing - but Firepaw, there were other cats that came looking for you just yesterday. These two huge toms, all scarred up - one was all black and white with a scar between his eyes -”
The mass of cats parted briefly to reveal Bone, the huge BloodClan deputy, crouched over another cat who moved feebly beneath him. So much blood clotted the victim’s fur that Firestar could hardly make out its color, and it took him a couple of heartbeats to recognize Whitestorm.
“Bone,” Firepaw spat.
Princess faltered. “You - you know him?”
Firepaw growled. “He’s a murderer,” he said shortly. “He killed -” He shook his head. “Never mind. Who was the other cat?”
Princess didn’t press, but he could tell she was still curious. “A dark brown tabby,” she said. “I caught a glimpse of him from Oliver’s garden - he was huge, with these claws as long as dog’s teeth. For a moment I swear he saw me, but then he just stalked off.”
Tigerclaw.
Something cold slid down Firepaw’s spine. “Are you sure he didn’t see you?” he demanded. “You’re positive?”
Princess stammered. “I - I mean, I suppose he could have, but why wouldn’t he say anything -?”
“Fox dung,” Firepaw spat. “Princess, I need you to promise me you’ll stay inside for a while.”
“Why?!” Princess demanded. “Firepaw, what’s going on? What are you mixed up in?”
Firepaw opened his mouth and realized he didn’t have a reassuring lie, or even an evasively-phrased reassuring truth. “That tabby,” he started, his voice quiet. “His name is Tigerclaw. He tried to kill me and got exiled from the clan for his troubles. Now, he’s looking for revenge.”
Princess’s eyes went huge. “Firepaw -”
“I can take care of myself,” Firepaw promised. “But you need to stay safe. Stay out of sight. Don’t talk to any strange cats.”
The image of Brokenstar dragging a tiny, wailing Cloudkit away from Princess’s still body flashed in front of his eyes. He shuddered. “And look after your kits, when they come.”
“I will,” Princess promised fiercely. “And I’ll stay inside, like you said. But Firepaw… be careful. Make sure you look after yourself too.”
“I will.” Firepaw felt bad for lying, but he couldn’t make that promise - not in good faith. Because he knew, before this was over (whatever ‘this’ turned out to be), he’d have to put himself in even greater danger. “I’ll visit again when it’s safe, but for now I have to -”
“Princess!”
Firepaw’s fur fluffed up reflexively as a new voice - an old tom, by the sound of it - echoed down from the top of the fence. He pushed his way between Princess and the newcomer, looking up to see a big ginger tom, his fur graying around his muzzle, perched uneasily on the fence. His ears were worn and tattered and, although his pelt had the well-fed sheen of most kittypets, it was ragged and clumpy.
His yellow eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Firepaw, his lips pulling back into a snarl as his claws slid out. “Who is -”
“It’s okay!” Princess meowed, stepping up next to Firepaw. “It’s okay! Firepaw, this is Marmalade, the cat I told you about - Marmalade, this is my brother, Firepaw.”
“The one the forest cats were talking about?” Marmalade peered more closely at Firepaw. “Doesn’t look like much, does he? They ever find who was after you?”
“No one was after me,” Firepaw said crossly. “No one from the - from here,” he amended, seeing Princess opening her mouth to object. “What are you doing here?”
Marmalade snorted, sheathing his claws and leaning back on the fence. “I came to talk to Princess,” he meowed. “You all right to do some walking, young lady?” he called down, his voice notably gentler. Firepaw decided that maybe Marmalade wasn’t so bad after all.
Princess nodded. “I can go for a stroll.”
“Princess -”
“I won’t be alone,” she pointed out. “Marmalade will be with me. Besides, you can come too, if it makes you happy.”
Firepaw hesitated, glancing up at the sky. He needed to return to ThunderClan soon if he was going to help against ShadowClan’s attack -
- but Princess was his sister. And he’d warned Bluestar, she would be on her guard now - as would the rest of ThunderClan.
He sighed. “I might not be able to stay long,” he told Princess. “If it’s fast…”
Princess nodded and turned back to Marmalade. “Where are we going?”
Marmalade’s expression was troubled. “To Oliver’s.”
~~
The wail of grief that rose from Princess’s throat when they found Oliver’s battered body was horrible to hear.
She rushed forward and pushed her nose into his long white fur, heedless of the bloodstains. “No, no, come back,” she cried, licking futilely at the bloody, gaping wound at his throat. “Come back, you promised you’d visit our kits -”
Firepaw startled at our kits. The dead tom was the spitting image of Cloudtail, but he hadn’t put the pieces together until Princess had actually said something.
(He thought of Sandstorm, falling bloody and battered beneath Mapleshade’s claws, and shuddered.)
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, padding up beside his sister and resting his tail over her haunches. Marmalade hung back respectfully, head bowed.
“I don’t understand,” Princess’s voice cracked. “Why would - why would anyone do this?”
Firepaw glanced at Oliver’s feet. There were tufts of dark tabby fur caught in his claws. “Tigerclaw,” he murmured. “He must have seen you after all.”
Princess sobbed.
“It’s not your fault,” he promised her, pressing closer. “You two were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“He snuck out of his nest to see me,” Princess sniffled, sinking awkwardly to the ground, mindful of her swollen belly. “It was my idea - if I hadn’t -”
“I know it doesn’t feel like it now,” Firepaw told her, resting his muzzle reassuringly against her head, “but you’re not responsible for this. Tigerclaw is. And I’m going to make sure he pays for it.”
“He’s right, Princess.” Marmalade padded up on her other side, touching the tip of his tail to her flank. “Oliver was a smart cat. Had a nose for trouble, too. He’d have butted heads with these cats one way or another. There’s nothing you could have done.”
Princess sniffled. “I… I shouldn’t leave him out here, like this. His housefolk -”
“I’ll take him back,” Marmalade promised gruffly. “Pixie’ll help. You get yourself home, young lady, and don’t leave your nest.”
Princess nodded, stumbling as she allowed Firepaw to lead her away.
She was silent for the entire walk back to her nest, her eyes wet and shiny with tears.
“I’m sorry,” Firepaw told her honestly, as they jumped down into her garden. “I know it doesn’t sound plausible, but… I know what it’s like to lose someone you care for.” In hindsight, he’d been lucky - his family had survived the many tumultuous moons of famine and disease. Sandstorm, Greystripe, Squirrelflight, Leafpool - Jayfeather and Hollyleaf and Lionblaze - but he’d lost many clanmates and, for a long while, he’d believed he’d lost Hollyleaf.
(The deaths of Whitestorm and Cinderpelt still weighed heavily on his conscience.)
“Does it stop hurting?” Princess asked, sounding very small.
Firepaw hesitated. “Not really,” he admitted softly. “But it gets easier. Especially if you have your friends to help carry the burden.”
Princess’s eyes dimmed. “Friends,” she murmured. “Firepaw, how did you know that - that it was this… Tigerclaw who… ?”
“I saw his fur between Oliver’s claws,” Firepaw said softly. “He tried to fight back.”
“Fight back,” Princess murmured. “But he didn’t have a chance, did he? Not against you forest cats. They teach you how to fight, don’t they? In the forest?”
Firepaw nodded. “The Clans teach their members, yes.”
“And your kits? You teach them too?”
He hesitated. “Not until they’re six moons old, but - yes. Every cat learns how to hunt and fight for the clan.”
“I see,” Princess said softly. “I want to join.”
Firepaw stared at her. “You - what?”
“I want to join,” Princess repeated, lifting her chin. “I want my kits to know how to defend themselves, so that - so they don’t -” She took a deep, unsteady breath. “I want them to have a fighting chance in this world,” she said quietly. “I don’t want them to die because some arrogant dog-heart of a cat decided he didn’t like being looked at and there’s nothing they can do to stop him.”
“Princess…” Firepaw sighed. “Clan life isn’t easy. Food is scarce in leaf-bare, battles over borders are still dangerous… cats die in the forest too.”
“I know.” Her voice quavered. “You told me. That cat tried to kill you. I’ve heard the stories just like you have. But it’s your choice. You control your fate, don’t you? You decide to make something of yourself? Instead of being reliant on the mercy of those around you?”
“I -”
“I want my kits to have that agency,” Princess insisted. “I know it’s going to be hard. I know it’s going to be dangerous. But living here is dangerous too, now. I’d rather my kits be able to defend themselves.”
Firepaw took a deep breath. “Not now,” he said quietly. “It’s not - just trust me. And think about it,” he added sternly. “Joining ThunderClan… it’s not to be taken lightly. You’re a kittypet. Your kits have kittypet blood. They’ll never forget that.”
“They took you in,” Princess pointed out.
“That’s not -” Firepaw sighed. “Just promise me you’ll think about it. Really think about it.”
Princess looked reluctant, but she nodded. “As long as you promise to come back soon.”
“I will,” Firepaw promised. As soon as Brokenstar is dealt with. He wasn’t going to drag his sister into the middle of a war with kit-stealers. “Soon. I can’t promise when, but - soon.”
“Soon,” Princess repeated. “I’ll come looking if you don’t,” she threatened. “I’ll have my kits in the middle of the woods, just you watch.”
Firepaw purred. “I believe you.” He touched his nose to her ear. “Take care of yourself, Princess.”
“You too,” she meowed, licking his head. “See you soon.”
CHAPTER NOTES
Hello again! I'm really sorry I didn't update last week - I was moving and didn't manage to get the chapter done in time. Hope this makes up for it! Things are changing....
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 phantomstar57 on Sept 1, 2019 13:26:12 GMT -5
Wow another great chapter.
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Post by SmugGull on Sept 7, 2019 1:07:08 GMT -5
CHAPTER TWENTY
Firepaw wove through the Twolegplace, glancing nervously at the sky as he ran. As he reached the edge of the forest, Marmalade stepped into his path. “Just a moment.”
Firepaw slowed down, narrowing his eyes at the old tom. “Something wrong?”
“Not as such.” Marmalade swished his tail. “Got a question for you though.”
Please don’t tell me you want to join ThunderClan too. “What’s the question?”
“This ThunderClan,” Marmalade started. He raised his tail as Firepaw felt his dismay show on his face. “No, I’m not interested in joining. But you take care of each other? Your kits?”
Firepaw nodded.
Marmalade nodded. “You’ll take care of Princess?”
“We will,” Firepaw promised. “I will.”
Marmalade grunted. “Good. See you soon, then. Take care of yourself, young’un.”
Firepaw dipped his head. “You too, Marmalade. Stay safe.”
“Wouldn’t bet on it,” Marmalade replied blithely. Then he was gone, trotting back along the fence and vanishing into the shadows of an alleyway.
Firepaw decided, rather reluctantly, that he liked Marmalade.
He hurried through the woods, glancing up at the sun, rising ominously higher in the sky as he neared camp, hoping he wasn’t too late. He tasted the air - there was no ShadowClan scent, at least not here.
Cautiously, hope began to unfurl in his chest. If -
A long, desperate wail rose from the camp.
Greypaw.
A chorus of voices joined the lone wail. Goldenflower, Redtail, Frostfur -
Firepaw broke into a sprint. No, no, no -
He skidded on the path into camp, losing his footing and sliding awkwardly into the bramble walls. He winced as the thorns cut through his skin; trickles of blood ran down his pelt. Firepaw pulled himself free and righted himself, grimacing.
His heart froze in his chest as he stumbled through the entrance tunnel. The camp stank of blood - ShadowClan’s ambush had turned into a pitched battle. His ears fell back against his skull as a familiar scent hit the back of his throat.
Tigerclaw.
A heavy weight careened into his side, sending him sprawling. “Where were you?” Greypaw wailed, standing over him. Tears fell freely from his eyes. “You were supposed - you were supposed to -”
Instead of words, another broken cry of grief escaped.
As Firepaw looked past the looming form of his friend, he saw a still bundle of golden tabby fur lying outside the medicine den.
“No,” he breathed. No, no, I saved you -
Sandpaw yanked Greypaw off of Firepaw’s chest. Firepaw scrambled to his feet, hunching his shoulders in grief as he searched the rest of the camp frantically. Spottedleaf was there, tending to a wound on Mousefur’s flank. Rosetail was grooming Frostfur’s pelt as the queen wailed into Lionheart’s thick fur. “My kits, our kits -”
Redtail -
Redtail was crouched next to the nursery, grooming an unmoving, bloody Bluestar.
“No -”
“You knew,” Greypaw wailed, struggling in Sandpaw’s grip. “You knew and you didn’t do anything -”
Firepaw shrank back. “I -”
“What does he mean?” Runningwind snapped, limping forward. “What does he mean, ‘you knew’?”
Hisses spread through the camp as dozens of eyes turned to face him. Most were accusing, some were confused, one pair - green, attached to Ravenpaw’s huddled form - was beseeching, begging him to fix this -
- but he couldn’t.
Darkstripe’s derisive yowl cut through the air. “Isn’t it obvious?” he spat, limping forward, his eyes blazing. “The kittypet let this attack happen! He ran away to save his own hide, then thought he could come crawling back with a sorry to make it all better!” He spat contemptuously. “That’s what you get, for expecting a kittypet to understand Clan loyalty.”
“I didn’t!” Firepaw protested. “I wouldn’t -”
“Traitor!” Frostfur screeched, lunging for him.
Firepaw fled.
~~
Sandpaw hissed in frustration as she dragged Greypaw backwards, towards the apprentices’ den. “Cool it,” she grunted. Tact was not her strong suit. “He’s gone, all right? StarClan knows if he’s mouse-brained enough to come back.”
Greypaw sagged in her grip. She waited a few moments before releasing him, stepping back, and shaking out her fur with a grunt. One of the ShadowClan warriors had kicked her nearly clear across camp and she was going to be feeling those bruises until the next Gathering.
She watched as Greypaw slunk over to Lionheart’s body and pressed his muzzle into the warrior’s fur. Frostfur pressed up against him briefly before she began to groom her mate’s tattered pelt. Goldenflower came up on Greypaw’s other side and joined Frostfur, smoothing her littermate’s fur down and cleaning the blood away.
Whitestorm padded over to her, his eyes dim was grief. “Are you injured?” he meowed quietly.
Sandpaw shook her head. “Just some aches. I’m fine.” She searched her mentor’s white pelt for any signs of blood. “Are you okay?”
She saw a twinkle of approval light up his gaze, just for a moment. “As well as can be expected, I think.”
A little of the tension seeped out of Sandpaw’s shoulders. She looked around for Ravenpaw and found him crouched by the nursery, staring down at the dark body of a ShadowClan warrior Sandpaw recognized as Frogtail. She padded over to him and began to groom his fur.
“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “He was - he was trying to get into the nursery - I saw Lionheart go down and I jumped in and -”
“You did good,” Sandpaw told him bluntly. “Like you said. He was trying to get into the nursery.”
“But I didn’t mean to,” Ravenpaw meowed wretchedly. “I just wanted him to stop hurting Lionheart - and Greypaw was too far away -”
“He did,” Sandpaw pointed out, smoothing an uncooperative tuft of fur. “It wasn’t your fault,” she added, more quietly. “You did everything you could.” She glanced around for Mousefur - wasn’t this a mentor’s job? - but her ire deflated when she saw Spottedleaf tending to the battered-looking she-cat.
“It wasn’t enough,” Ravenpaw muttered.
“It never is.”
Sandpaw looked up to see Yellowfang standing in front of them. The grimy, squat-faced she-cat loomed over them, her orange eyes practically glowing in the light. “You should get those looked at,” she meowed to Ravenpaw, gesturing to a trio of scratches on his head. “Frogtail never cleaned his claws. Those’ll get infected for sure.”
A soft cry of relief interrupted any reply Ravenpaw or Sandpaw might have made. All three cats looked over to where Bluestar was slowly getting to her feet, leaning on Redtail as she did so.
Yellowfang padded over to Bluestar, looking her over perfunctorily before stepping back, apparently satisfied, abandoning Bluestar to Redtail’s fussing.
“Come on,” she grunted to Ravenpaw. “I’ll put some marigold on that.”
Sandpaw trailed after her, sticking close to Ravenpaw. She paused as she passed Lionheart’s body. Goldenflower, Greypaw, and Frostfur had been joined by other members of the clan. It was strange not to see Firepaw’s ginger fur pressed up against Greypaw’s ashen pelt. He’d only been a member of the clan for a couple moons, but he already felt like a fixture in the apprentice den - especially around Greypaw. The two were practically inseparable.
Her gaze jumped to Darkstripe, who had flopped down in the shade of the Highrock and was washing a wound on his tail, eyes darting around camp. Briefly, his gaze met hers. She looked away quickly.
“There,” Yellowfang grunted, plastering a thin layer of cobweb on top of Ravenpaw’s scratches. “Now, what are you two going to do?”
Sandpaw blinked. “Do? Do about what?”
“About Firepaw,” Yellowfang meowed, like it was obvious. “What else?”
Sandpaw bristled. “Why would we want anything to do about him?” she snapped. “He ran off! He was supposed to be here, and he wasn’t!” For all Greypaw’s grief and general impulsiveness, Sandpaw agreed with him on that point - Firepaw should have been in camp.
And he hadn’t been.
“And what could he have done, exactly?” Yellowfang said waspishly. “He’s one cat - an apprentice, at that. Perhaps he should fight all of ShadowClan at once?”
I bet he could. The thought sprung to mind, unbidden. Sandpaw shook it away angrily. He was from the future, not invincible. “He could have done something.”
“We all could have done something.” Yellowfang’s words were tinged with sadness. “Let me put it this way. Do you think Firepaw betrayed your clan to ShadowClan?”
Sandpaw opened her mouth to respond, but hesitated. She thought about how Firepaw had spoken about Longtail the night she’d caught him sneaking out.
I’ve lived beside him nearly my entire life. I shared a den with him, I assigned him two of his apprentices, I performed his elder’s ceremony, I was there when he died. He’s a good cat – patient and kind, dedicated to his clan and loyal to his friends.
She also remembered his outrage over the kit-apprentices at his first Gathering.
Small? They’re kits! That one there, how old do you suppose she is? Four moons? Five?
“No,” she admitted reluctantly, tail drooping. She didn’t know why he’d picked today of all days to vanish, but she doubted it was because he’d sold them out.
“Well, good to see Stumpytail didn’t knock all the sense out of you,” Yellowfang muttered.
Sandpaw looked back at Greypaw and made the executive decision to leave him be for the time being. “Ravenpaw, are you okay to travel?”
Ravenpaw blinked. “Um. Yes, I suppose? Why? Where are we going?”
“We’re going to go find Firepaw,” she said grimly. “We’re going to get some answers if I have to claw them out of him. And we’re going to find Frostfur’s kits, with or without him.”
Yellowfang’s eyes gleamed in approval. “Well, let’s go. We’re wasting daylight.”
~~
Outside the camp was a tangle of scents. ShadowClan mixed with Tigerclaw, who had forced his way into the nursery and snatched Cinderkit and Brackenkit up in his jaws, mixed with Firepaw’s fear-scent.
Yellowfang’s eyes narrowed as she examined the smells. “One of the ShadowClan warriors is injured,” she meowed. “Badly. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets left behind.”
“Would Brokenstar do that?” Sandpaw asked skeptically. “Just abandon one of his warriors.”
Yellowfang sighed. “There is no room for weakness in Brokenstar’s ShadowClan,” she meowed bitterly. “And no room for medicine cats.”
“That’s mouse-brained.”
“Incredibly,” Yellowfang agreed. She turned to Sandpaw. “Well? This is your idea, after all.”
(Truth be told, Yellowfang was rather fond of the spunky young apprentice, despite her shortcomings. She had potential, if it was nurtured properly. Besides, she doubted Sandpaw would take kindly to being told what to do by the former ShadowClan medicine cat.)
Sandpaw narrowed her eyes. “Do you know which warrior is injured?”
Yellowfang tasted the air again. “Stumpytail, I think,” she meowed eventually. “Smells like him.” She felt a sharp pang in her chest as she said it - Stumpytail was her sister’s kit. She hoped, for Rowanberry’s sake, that the thin brown warrior’s injuries were survivable.
Sandpaw nodded. “Do you think you can track him? If Brokenstar leaves him behind, that is?”
Yellowfang nodded.
Sandpaw took a deep breath. “Right. Okay. Um, you should do that then. I’ll look for Firepaw and we’ll meet…” she trailed off, clearly thinking hard. “We’ll meet at the Great Sycamore?”
Yellowfang grunted. “Great Sycamore. Where is that, again?”
Sandpaw hesitated. “Uh… Ravenpaw can show you.”
Ravenpaw blinked. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah.” Sandpaw was clearly warming to the idea. “You’ll be tracking more cats, so you shouldn’t go alone. And Ravenpaw knows the territory better, so he’ll be able to find me again. Besides, he’ll fold like an elder in a stiff breeze if he has to confront Firepaw.”
Ravenpaw, notably, did not protest.
Can’t fault that logic. “The Great Sycamore,” Yellowfang echoed. “All right, then. Let’s get going.”
Sandpaw nodded. “Right. Well, good luck.” And she was off, trotting through the trees. Apparently, Firepaw hadn’t bothered with any sort of subtlety in his flight from camp.
Yellowfang wished she could follow - she wanted to make sure the strange ginger apprentice was safe and at least partially sound, to comfort him through the worst. She knew what it was to be rejected by your clan; even if Firepaw had only lived among them for a short time, the exile - however unofficial - would burn.
But she was the only one of them who could track Stumpytail. More to the point, she was the only one who could treat his injuries.
“This way,” she told Ravenpaw, leading him down the path the retreating ShadowClan patrol had taken.
She moved slowly, keeping a sedate pace to avoid catching up to the full patrol. If she was right (and she was always right) Stumpytail would be abandoned sooner rather than later. Poor, mouse-brained fool.
The stench of blood hit the back of her throat. She raised her tail to halt Ravenpaw, then moved forward cautiously, slinking low to the ground.
There. Through the trees, she could make out Stumpytail’s form, slumped against a rock and panting heavily. Blood dripped steadily from several long, deep scratches in his belly.
Yellowfang grimaced at the sight, her own belly stinging in sympathy. She took a deep breath, remembering what Sedgewhisker had taught her, and banished Stumpytail’s pain back where it belonged.
“You look like crowfood,” she called out fearlessly. None of the other ShadowClan warriors were nearby, if their scents were anything to judge by. “Is this how Brokenstar rewards loyalty these days?”
“Like you’d know anything about loyalty,” Stumpytail spat. “Kit-killer!”
Yellowfang hissed. “I never laid a paw on those kits,” she snapped, “and you’re a fool if you think otherwise.” She eyed the wounds as she padded closer. “How bad is it?”
“You were a medicine cat,” Stumpytail said nastily, “you tell me.”
Yellowfang stared at him, unimpressed. “If you lie down, you’ll bleed out more slowly. You might even last until sundown.”
“I’m not bleeding out,” Stumpytail protested. But Yellowfang could taste the edge of fear in his scent. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”
Yellowfang snorted. “Yes, and I’m just an apprentice. Ravenpaw!” she called over her shoulder.
Ravenpaw stepped forward nervously. “Y-yes Yellowfang?”
“You remember what marigold looks like?” He nodded. “Good. Find some. And some cobwebs.”
As the sleek black apprentice darted off, Yellowfang sat back on her haunches, observing Stumpytail as he sank to the ground while trying to pretend he wasn’t taking Yellowfang’s advice.
“Let’s see if you can earn those herbs,” she offered. “Why did Brokenstar take those kits?”
“Shove off.”
Yellowfang shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll tell Ravenpaw not to bother.” She started to rise to her feet, intending to hide somewhere downwind until Ravenpaw came back.
“Wait!” Panic tinged the edge of Stumpytail’s voice as she turned away. “It’s - he wants more apprentices,” he said. “They keep dying. In battle, I mean.”
Yellowfang hissed. “Because they’re kits,” she growled, sitting back down. “Not apprentices. So, he’s desperate enough to steal from other clans? He must be going through them at a truly prodigious rate. I remember ShadowClan’s numbers being the strongest in the forest when I was last there, being falsely accused of murdering kits.”
Stumpytail growled in frustration. “Fine, yes. Is that what you wanted to hear? We’re running out of kits.”
Yellowfang narrowed her eyes. Stumpytail wasn’t meeting her gaze. “What else?”
“What do you mean, what else?”
“I mean,” Yellowfang said, with exaggerated patience, “what other reason is there?”
“How should I know?” Stumpytail snapped.
Yellowfang sighed and rose to her feet again.
“Wait! Wait! Okay!” Stumpytail took a deep breath. “I - look, I don’t know for sure if this is what he’s doing, but I heard him talking with Blackfoot about forcing Bluestar to give up territory.”
Yellowfang pinned her ears back against her skull. Hostages. Bluestar would be forced to concede, or allow two of her kits to be killed.
“Fox-hearted coward,” she spat. “Thank you, Stumpytail.”
Right on cue, Ravenpaw stepped into the clearing, carrying a bundle of marigold and a pawful of cobwebs.
“Good work,” she grunted, and set to work chewing the marigold and applying the poultice to Stumpytail’s wounds. Ravenpaw helped paste the cobweb over top.
“There.” Yellowfang stepped back, surveying her work. “You’ll live. Run back to Brokenstar, if you like,” she meowed, “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you.”
Stumpytail rose gingerly to his feet, testing his legs before - reluctantly - dipping his head to Yellowfang. “Thanks,” he muttered. “No offense, but I hope I never see you again.”
“None taken,” Yellowfang meowed back. “Although,” she added, “would you deliver something for me? A message.”
Stumpytail eyed her suspiciously. “Depends on the message.”
Yellowfang hesitated. There was so much she wanted to say, to so many cats. To Rowanberry, to Brightflower, to Brokenstar, to Runningnose - but Stumpytail, she suspected, would only deliver one.
“Tell Brightflower,” she meowed eventually. “Tell Brightflower that I forgive her.”
CHAPTER NOTES
SO, the folks over on Ao3 decided they wanted a discord server, so I made one. The link is in the notes over there, or you can DM me for it here. Hope to see you there!
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 phantomstar57 on Sept 13, 2019 15:36:21 GMT -5
And the mystery deepens.
Another great chapter. You are handling canon extremely well.
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Post by SmugGull on Sept 14, 2019 3:04:37 GMT -5
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Firepaw ran blindly through the trees, neither willing nor able to stop the tears that blurred his vision.
My kits - our kits - you knew -
Traitor!
Never in his life - in any of his lives - had Firepaw felt such hatred from his clanmates. He had been an outcast, mistrusted by the clanborn warriors, yes - but never - never this.
ThunderClan had never hated him.
He stumbled down the bank of a dry streambed, sliding to an awkward halt at the bottom of the incline. His chest ached, his throat was raw, his bones felt like wet pine needles.
Firepaw clawed his way up the other side and staggered off the path, eventually collapsing under a bush as the dull, grey despair pressing down on him finally overwhelmed his vision.
ThunderClan hated him. Greypaw, his best and oldest friend, hated him.
Lionheart was dead. Tigerclaw and ShadowClan had allied moons earlier - Princess’s beloved mate was dead -
Everything was falling apart around him. And it was all his fault. His meddling, his attempts to change the future - he had done this, he alone, it was all his fault -
(He shouldn’t have left. He should have tried harder, fought better. He should have -)
Rain soaked through his fur. Overhead, the crack of lightning sounded. Sandstorm’s wail echoed in his ears.
“Firestar! No!”
~~
Sandpaw wove through the forest, following Firepaw’s fear-scent. She had to scoff - what did he have to be afraid of? It wasn’t like Bluestar or Redtail had kicked him out. It was just Darkstripe mouthing off and Greypaw being a mouse-brain and yeah, it sucked, but it wasn’t unfixable.
Probably.
Gradually, the fear gave way to the heavier smell of grief, which was accompanied by something shaky and sharp - almost like lightning - that Sandpaw couldn’t identify. She frowned, slowing her pace. What if Firepaw had run into something? Or someone? She couldn’t pick up any other strange smells, but if the staticky smell wasn’t from Firepaw…
Whatever. It was fine. It would be fine.
She followed Firepaw’s scent towards Fourtrees, growling in irritation as it began to rain. He was slowing down - stumbling, even. Was he injured? She didn’t smell any blood, but maybe the mouse-brain had twisted his paw while running or something.
She sighed. If she had to drag him back to Yellowfang by the scruff of his neck… well, she wasn’t going to let him forget it, that was for sure.
Sandpaw leapt lightly down the bank of the streambed and scrambled back up the other side, hauling herself over the last lip of earth with a grunt of effort.
Firepaw’s scent was much stronger now, and fresher - he must be nearby. She paused, swiveling her head around as she tasted the air.
He’d gone off the path. Why had he done that? Was he injured - really, truly injured? Sandpaw’s fur prickled nervously. Yellowfang was off chasing the injured ShadowClan warrior. Sandpaw didn’t know anything about herbs; if Firepaw needed healing, she’d be useless. Worse than useless, even.
(She definitely wasn’t going to let him forget this. Dragging her out here, making her worry about his flea-bitten hide? He was going to be doing her chores until her warrior ceremony.)
“Firepaw?” she called out nervously. Lightning cracked through the air, making her jump. “Firepaw! Are you still here, mouse-brain?”
A faint rustle of leaves made her whip around. There was Firepaw - curled up under a bush, damp but completely unharmed.
All of Sandpaw’s worry immediately morphed into anger. “You mouse-brained ginger lump,” she hissed. “You drag me all the way across ThunderClan territory looking for your miserable hide and I find you hiding under a bush?”
Firepaw stared at her with empty eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hollowly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry - I shouldn’t have left -”
StarClan save me. She didn’t have time for this. “Look, whatever,” she muttered, turning back to the path. “Let’s just go -”
“I shouldn’t have left you.”
Sandpaw stopped.
She turned back around. “Left… me?”
“I left you alone -” Firepaw sounded like his heart was breaking, but he was still staring at her, blank-faced. “- I should have tried harder -”
Sandpaw took a cautious step forward. “Um, Firepaw? Can you hear me?” She moved her head side to side, but Firepaw’s gaze stayed locked in one place.
He was looking at her, sure, but he wasn’t seeing her.
Fox dung.
“I tried,” he whispered. “I tried, believe me - you deserved so much better - the battle was over I could have kept living the clan needed me, Hollyleaf and Ferncloud and Mousefur were dead and they needed me, and you needed me, and Brambleclaw, our daughters needed me -”
Our daughters - ? Did Firepaw think she was his mate from the future? Who was he seeing, anyway - a loner or a rogue he’d fallen for? A cat from another clan? She couldn’t fathom any she-cat in ThunderClan becoming mates with him, unless - actually, maybe he and Greypaw became an item. It would explain why he’d looked like someone had stolen the stars out of the sky when Greypaw turned on him.
“ - I'm sorry - ”
“Yeah, okay,” she decided, taking a big step back. “That’s enough. Call me when you’re back to being not-weird. Or like… the normal amount of weird.”
“Don’t go!” Firepaw cried out after her. “Wait - Sandstorm!”
Sandpaw froze.
Sandstorm?
Was he - did they -
Ew!
Sandpaw shook herself, feeling a bit like she’d just been thrown into a mud puddle. That - that was just - that was weird.
“Don’t like that,” she muttered. “Don’t like that.”
“...Sandpaw?”
Firepaw sounded absolutely mortified.
Good. That makes two of us.
“Uh-huh.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, still wary. “Are you… back to normal now?”
“Um.” Firepaw was staring at the ground like he was wishing it would open up and swallow him whole. “I. Um. Yes.”
“Good. Great.” She flicked her tail impatiently towards the path. “Let’s, uh, let’s go. Like, now? Yellowfang’s waiting for us -”
“Right, yeah of course -” Firepaw scrambled to his paws and padded after her.
Sandpaw led them back the way she’d come. The awkward silence lasted for all of a minute before she sighed, dropping back to walk next to Firepaw. “So… my warrior name is Sandstorm?”
Firepaw stumbled. Automatically, she moved to catch him, but he shied away from her, regaining his paws on his own.
That was fair enough, she decided, and resolved to let him fall on his face next time.
“It is,” he confirmed. “Bluestar named you and Dustpelt - Dustpaw - at the same time, after rogues attacked the camp.” His whiskers twitched. “You clawed one of them so badly they ran off squealing.”
Sandpaw frowned. “Wait, wait, back up. When did rogues attack the camp?”
“Um…” Firepaw’s eyes began to unfocus. Quickly, Sandpaw batted him about the head. He yelped, skittering away from her like a startled kit. “What was that for?” he demanded.
“Don’t you get all weird on me again,” Sandpaw warned. “It was bad enough the first time you did it, I don’t need you doing that thing all over again.”
Firepaw opened his mouth, obviously thought better of it, and shut his muzzle with an audible snap.
“Anyway,” Sandpaw continued, a little louder than she probably should have. “Never mind about the rogues. You, uh,” she cleared her throat. “You mentioned… daughters?”
She’d known Firepaw had kits in the future. He mentioned them now and again and he’d been practically desperate to remember them during the period he’d lost his memories. She hadn’t really paid much attention, to be honest - she’d never been that interested. But now that they were apparently her kits too…
Even if they didn’t end up happening, she felt like she should know them.
Slowly, Firepaw nodded. “Their names were - are -” He sighed in frustration. “Were Squirrelflight and Leafpool.” His face softened as he spoke; Sandpaw tensed as his eyes went distant, but they stayed warm and fond instead of turning blank and hollow like before. “Squirrelflight - well, she had a bit of an attitude problem as an apprentice,” he admitted with a mrrow of amusement, “but she’s a fine warrior with a good head on her shoulders. Most of the time,” he added tiredly. “But she’s brave, fierce and loyal. Her fur is darker than mine, and her eyes, but she has one white paw.” He sounded a little puzzled. “I’m not sure who she got that from.”
Sandpaw shrugged. “She sounds like a good cat,” she offered.
Firepaw practically glowed. “The best,” he agreed.
“So…” Sandpaw floundered for a moment before she remembered the other name. “What about Leafpool? What was she like?”
To her surprise, Firepaw scoffed - fondly, but he still scoffed. “Leafpool was a model medicine cat. She takes after my sister - brown tabby, white paws, white chest - and they have similar temperaments, peaceful, kind souls that they are, although Leafpool caused more trouble than Princess ever did.”
Sandpaw blinked. “I thought you said she was a model medicine cat?”
“She was,” Firepaw said dryly, “except for the time she ran off with a WindClan warrior and came back bearing his kits.”
Sandpaw sputtered. “That’s - I don’t even know how many times that breaks the warrior code -”
“I stopped counting,” Firepaw said resignedly. “I didn’t even know the kits were hers until after they were warriors - she gave them to Squirrelflight to raise as her own. Even Squirrelflight’s mate didn’t know.”
“StarClan save us,” she muttered. “She gets that from you,” she added, feeling the need to defend herself.
Firepaw conceded the point gracefully. “Probably.”
“So.” Sandpaw cleared her throat as they neared the place where Firepaw’s and ShadowClan’s scent trails had diverged and turned sharply, following the smell of Ravenpaw’s nervousness. “You - we - you have grandkits?”
He nodded, dropping back to let her take the lead. “Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather,” he revealed. “I… could tell you more about them later, if you like? And more about - about Squirrelflight and Leafpool?”
Sandpaw paused on the trail. Just because she was hearing about them didn’t mean they had to - didn’t mean she was obligated to mother them. It was just curiosity. “Sure,” she replied, aiming for nonchalance and not quite nailing it. “Later. C’mon, the others aren’t far.”
~~
Firepaw was still half-hoping the ground would have mercy on him and swallow him up where he stood.
When he’d dragged himself under that bush, exhausted by shock and grief, it had only taken a flash of lightning to hurl him back to his final battle with Tigerstar, to the taste of blood flooding his mouth as Tigerstar’s body dissolved into dark smoke and the sharp, searing agony that had coursed through his body; to Sandstorm’s desperate, grief-stricken cry -
He’d opened his eyes to a forest clearing filled with starlight with Sandstorm’s scent in his nose. In front of him, the shimmering, translucent form of Sandstorm faded into view. He’d poured his heart out, begging forgiveness - and then she’d turned and walked away.
(And apparently, it had been Sandpaw. Oops.)
(He still wasn’t sure if he was losing his mind or not. Maybe his old life was bleeding through to StarClan, or maybe he was going mad from loneliness. Considering StarClan’s recent reactions to time travel shenanigans, he wasn’t quite sure which was worse.)
But Sandpaw had reacted… not as well as he’d dared to hope, but better than he’d feared. She’d asked about their kits. About their grandkits.
He didn’t dare hope things might play out the same way between them as they had last time. But he also couldn’t conceive of a world where his family just - didn’t exist.
It was a very fine line to walk. So far, he was just barely managing it.
Later, he told himself. Deal with it later.
“Ravenpaw!” Sandpaw called. “Yellowfang! I found him!”
Firepaw blinked. “You were looking -” Of course you were, he realized. Why else would she have found him so quickly.
Sandpaw shot a scathing look over her shoulder as Ravenpaw darted out of the trees and bounded over to Firepaw, purring loudly. He touched his nose to Firepaw’s and licked his ear, still purring. “You’re okay!”
Firepaw purred back. “Of course I’m okay,” he meowed reassuringly. “I’m just fine.” He looked over Ravenpaw’s shoulder to see Yellowfang emerging from woods onto the narrow, overgrown path. “What were you two doing out here?”
Yellowfang flicked her tail dismissively. “Gathering information. Frostfur’s kits are safe for now. Brokenstar intends to use them as leverage to force Bluestar to concede hunting rights to ShadowClan on ThunderClan’s territory. He won’t risk harming them - at least not until he’s opened negotiations.”
“How long will that take?” Firepaw asked, stepping past Ravenpaw to address Yellowfang directly.
Yellowfang shrugged. “Not long,” she admitted. “A day, at most.”
Firepaw nodded. He began to pace as he thought - the best way to open dialogue with another clan was to send an envoy to their camp, but considering recent circumstances, any ShadowClan cat on ThunderClan territory would be attacked on site. The better option would be to wait on the border to speak to the next patrol.
Patrols wouldn’t be sent out until camp was repaired and Bluestar was -
Mouse dung.
“Is Bluestar all right?” he asked, glancing between the other three cats. “Was anyone - anyone else injured?”
It was Yellowfang who answered. “Mousefur, Darkstripe, and Speckletail were injured,” she rasped. “All of them will recover, given enough herbs and time. Bluestar, I believe, has lost a life.”
Firepaw cursed. The life he’d saved by taking them out of the path of the rats - gone. Because he’d tried to change things.
Deal with it later. He had to rescue the kits now.
If ShadowClan was going to wait by the border…
He looked around. Three apprentices, one former medicine cat.
“I have a plan,” he announced. “But we’re going to need another warrior.”
CHAPTER NOTES
Bit of a short chapter, this one. We're closing in on the end of the first book!
Now, full disclosure - once we reach the end of Into the Wild, I'm going to stop posting here and post exclusively on Ao3. If you're still reading, be sure to follow the story so you're notified of any updates! And don't forget to join the Discord server if you haven't already - message me for a link if you're interested.
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 SmugGull on Sept 14, 2019 3:24:47 GMT -5
Y'all probably noticed the background changed - the old background glitched out, stopped working, so I found a new one. Hope you guys like it!
(I'll send out the messages in the morning, it is currently 4:30 in the am and I am getting slightly tired.)
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Post by phantomstar57 on Sept 14, 2019 14:03:17 GMT -5
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DO NOT stop posting here! OMG! I don't have the time to deal with another site. . .PLEASE reconsider!!!
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Post by SmugGull on Sept 21, 2019 2:58:25 GMT -5
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Are you sure about this?” Whitestorm asked.
Firepaw nodded. “Positive,” he meowed. “We won’t get far into ShadowClan territory without being found out, even with Yellowfang on our side.”
Yellowfang nodded in grudging agreement. “ShadowClan is too large. Brokenstar has patrols running around the entire territory and guards near the camp. We’d be smelled out, even in this rain.”
Whitestorm dipped his head. “Very well. So, you plan to catch the next border patrol and convince them to take you - us - to camp to negotiate for the kits.”
“That’s right,” Firepaw meowed.
“And once we’re there?”
“That’s Ravenpaw’s part,” Firepaw explained. “Yellowfang, did you find any of the other exiles?”
Whitestorm’s ear flicked, but he kept silent.
Yellowfang shook her head. “I found their old camp, but it looks like they’ve moved deeper into the marshlands. Stumpytail was with them,” she added. “I doubt he trusts Brokenstar to keep him alive after he fell behind.”
“And told us why Brokenstar took Frostfur’s kits,” Ravenpaw added in an undertone.
Firepaw’s whiskers twitched. “Yes,” he agreed. “That too.”
Whitestorm’s eyes twinkled. “I see. So, why come to me? Why not tell the clan your plan?”
Firepaw’s eyes dimmed. “I doubt they’d listen,” he said quietly. “We’re three apprentices and the former ShadowClan medicine cat.”
Whitestorm hummed. “You don’t think Bluestar and Redtail are reasonable enough to listen?”
Firepaw exchanged a glance with Yellowfang. “It’s not that they’re not reasonable, it’s just…”
Whitestorm sighed, apparently sensing the reasons for Firepaw’s hesitation. “Very well. Let’s not waste any more time.”
~~
Whitestorm stared at Blackfoot’s retreating back, struggling between loathing and desperation. Flintfang was padding beside him - Whitestorm knew the old grey warrior by reputation. He was keen-eyed and cunning - and loyal. If he sensed something amiss, Whitestorm had no doubt he would alert Blackfoot that something was wrong. If he was too confident - or not confident enough - Flintfang could destroy the whole plan.
Beside him, Sandpaw padded sullenly, exchanging periodic glares with an older grey tabby apprentice - Wetpaw, Whitestorm recalled. On his other side was Firepaw, his eyes darting to and fro among the ShadowClan patrol. They were outnumbered two to one already.
Ahead, Whitestorm saw a frog leap out of a fern. Wetpaw pounced on it, only for Blackfoot to snap at him. Wetpaw stepped back reluctantly, letting the frog limp away into the undergrowth.
“That standard ShadowClan practice?” Sandpaw hissed. “Toying with whatever can’t fight back?”
“Sandpaw!” Whitestorm hissed.
Blackfoot glowered at her over his shoulder. Whitestorm glowered right back, bristling angrily.
Blackfoot snorted and turned back around, leading them on, deeper into ShadowClan territory.
Whitestorm glanced at the patch of ferns as they passed. Firepaw pressed against him briefly, not making eye contact.
Wetpaw sneered. “Are all ThunderClan apprentices this cowardly?”
“Shut your face, kit-stealer!” Sandpaw hissed.
Wetpaw snarled.
“That’s enough,” Flintfang snapped. He glanced at Whitestorm. “Control your apprentices, ThunderClan.”
“Control yours,” Whitestorm snapped back.
“Are you two elders going to keep bickering, or can we get on with this?” Blackfoot snarled.
Sandpaw scoffed. Whitestorm swatted her with his tail and she subsided with a grumble.
As they approached the ShadowClan camp, Whitestorm couldn’t help but look over his shoulder for a pair of green eyes.
~~
Ravenpaw’s stomach writhed with nerves as he watched Whitestorm, Sandpaw, and Firepaw disappear into the ShadowClan camp.
With the ThunderClan patrol covering for his scent, he’d been able to tail them to the ShadowClan camp like Firepaw had told him to. That had been the easy part.
Now came the hard part - accompanied by a lot of praying that Yellowfang was going to do her part.
(It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. It was just…)
(Well, that he didn’t trust her. Not against her old clan.)
As the tail of the last ShadowClan warrior disappeared into the tunnel, Ravenpaw slunk around the camp’s perimeter. Yellowfang had said the nursery was…
There’s the misshapen fern; there’s the burned stump. One bush, two bush…
~~
“What do you mean, no?” Whitestorm hissed. At his side, Sandpaw growled.
“I mean no,” Brokenstar repeated, looking unbearably smug. He was flanked by the towering Blackfoot and an uneasy-looking Flintfang, whose gaze bore into Whitestorm’s fur. “If Bluestar wants to negotiate, she can do so in person. Anything else is an insult to ShadowClan.”
“Stealing kits is an insult to ShadowClan,” Firepaw said coolly.
Brokenstar stared down his muzzle at him. Whitestorm held his breath, mentally calculating - if Brokenstar attacked, could Whitestorm stop him?
“It’s Firepaw,” Brokenstar said eventually, “isn’t it?”
Firepaw stared back, lifting his chin defiantly.
“Yes,” Brokenstar murmured. “Yes, I rather think it is.” He took a slow, measured pace forward. “I was warned about you, you know.”
Firepaw tilted his head. “Were you.”
It wasn’t a question.
“You like to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Brokenstar recalled. “And you don’t respect your betters.”
“Sounds like whoever you got your information from made the mistake of thinking they were my better,” Firepaw retorted.
Sandpaw sniggered loudly.
Wetpaw yowled in outrage. Sandpaw egged him on with a hiss. Boulder, sitting some distance away, snarled in defense of his apprentice - Whitestorm growled at him -
Brokenstar snarled. “Enough!” He glowered at Whitestorm. “If you cannot control your apprentice -”
“I don’t need controlling!” Sandpaw hissed, lashing her tail.
Webpaw sneered. “Clearly you do -”
Sandpaw lunged at him. Blood sprayed through the air as she raked her claws down his face; Webpaw screeched in sudden agony -
“ShadowClan! Attack!”
~~
The camp descended into chaos. Firepaw barely had time to grin before Brokenstar had lunged for him; his claws gleamed in the faint sunlight. Firepaw ducked beneath his massive form. He whirled around, lashing out at Brokenstar’s tail as it flew past. Brokenstar yowled in pain; Firepaw’s claws had ripped out a tuft of his fur.
Hissing and spitting in rage, Brokenstar swiped at Firepaw’s head. Firepaw scrambled away, narrowly avoiding the blow. A tortoiseshell she-cat joined him, growling in outrage and matching her blows with Brokenstar’s.
The two cats herded him backwards until Firepaw could feel bramble thorns prickling at his pelt. Firepaw crouched, teeth pulled back in a snarl; Brokenstar yowled in triumph -
~~
Sandpaw raked her claws down Webpaw’s belly. She sprang to her feet as he retreated, wailing in pain; beside her, Whitestorm was wrestling with Boulder. Before she could single out another enemy, Blackfoot slammed into her, sending her skidding across the dirt.
She yelped as he sank his teeth into her scruff; he shook her hard, sending her flying again. Clawface and a brown-cream she-cat jumped on her, pinning her down. Her throat was dry with fear.
Where was Yellowfang?
~~
Whitestorm raked his claws down Boulder’s shoulders, digging in until the larger cat retreated with a hiss, limping away from the battle. He sprang to his feet, yowling a challenge as Ratscar and Applefur crept towards him. The two hesitated, exchanging glances.
Sandpaw cried out in pain at the same time Brokenstar yowled triumphantly. Whitestorm spun around to see his apprentice pinned down by Clawface and Rowanberry and - beyond her, backed against the nursery wall -
Firepaw crouched before the massive form of Brokenstar, flanked by one of his warriors.
Ratscar lunged for Whitestorm’s flank. Whitestorm batted him away with a snarl.
Sandpaw screeched. Droplets of blood landed on the floor of ShadowClan’s camp.
Whitestorm lunged forward with a roar of outrage. He bowled Clawface over, clipping Rowanberry on the way down. She screeched angrily, leaping on his back as he pinned Clawface to the ground.
“Go!” Whitestorm bellowed at Sandpaw. This wasn’t working, they were too outnumbered - where was Yellowfang?
Sandpaw staggered to her feet, winded. Whitestorm hissed as Rowanberry’s claws dug into his pelt.
“Is this the might of ShadowClan?” he hissed at the brown tortoiseshell warrior. “Two warriors against an apprentice?”
Clawface swiped at Whitestorm’s face. “No faith in your teaching?” he taunted.
Whitestorm growled, sinking his fangs deep into the meat of Clawface’s shoulder. Clawface screamed - Whitestorm screamed too as Rowanberry’s powerful hind legs scored deep clawmarks into his back. He staggered away from Clawface, letting the tom flee into the woods.
StarClan, he was tired already.
~~
Brokenstar yowled in triumph and lunged forward, claws outstretched. Firepaw rocketed upward, slamming his head into Brokenstar’s vulnerable belly. The mighty leader choked, collapsing sideways into dirt.
Firepaw was upon him in an instant, sinking his fangs into Brokenstar’s exposed throat and biting down as blood pooled in his mouth, not stopping until fang met fang.
“Stop it!” the tortoiseshell shrieked, ramming into him. “Stop!”
Firepaw clung on like a badger, sinking his claws into Brokenstar’s pelt as the leader’s struggles grew weaker and weaker - and then, all at once, they stopped.
The tortoiseshell wailed, hitting Firepaw with such a mighty shove that he was flung clear. “Brokenstar is dead!” she shrieked.
Any time now, Yellowfang…
~~
“Brokenstar is dead!”
Sandpaw gaped as she struggled to her feet, looking over her shoulder to see Firepaw, bloody and defiant, standing over the still body of the ShadowClan leader. He - ?
Her thoughts went no further as Blackfoot’s full weight slammed into her, bowling her over once, twice, until she scrambled to her feet and hissed defiantly at the ShadowClan deputy. Blackfoot growled menacingly, unsheathing his claws.
Sandpaw backed up warily, trying to gauge Blackfoot’s approach. He was bigger, stronger, and more experienced than her -
That meant she’d have to be smarter.
Keep your feet, Firepaw whispered in the back of her head.
~~
Firepaw bowled over the tortoiseshell warrior and leapt onto Blackfoot’s back, sinking his teeth into the deputy’s shoulders.
(This was Blackfoot who stole kits, Blackfoot who was Tigerstar’s right hand during his reign of terror and fought by his side against BloodClan, this was Blackstar who he’d traveled on the Great Journey with, this was -)
(This was none of those cats.)
Sandpaw slashed at Blackfoot’s muzzle as the bigger cat threw Firepaw clear. Firepaw scrambled to his feet and matched her blow for blow, driving back Blackfoot until he lay bloody and gasping at their feet.
A yowl sounded from the entrance of ShadowClan’s camp. Firepaw’s heart soared - Yellowfang!
“Let’s go!” he called to Sandpaw. Sandpaw bolted towards the camp entrance with Whitestorm on her heels.
Just outside, Yellowfang was waiting. “Hurry,” she urged. “Ravenpaw has the kits. ShadowClan won’t let you just run away.”
Firepaw nodded. “Did you find -?”
“A few.” Yellowfang didn’t elaborate, electing not to waste her breath as she led them back towards the ThunderClan border.
~~
Sandpaw stumbled through the gorse tunnel that lead into ThunderClan’s camp in a daze.
He’d saved her. Firepaw had saved her.
...she was still processing that.
“Sandpaw!”
Sandpaw jumped as Redtail bounded up to her. “Are you all right?” he asked urgently. “Spottedleaf -”
“I’m here.” Spottedleaf appeared at his side almost instantly. “Come along -”
“I’m fine,” Sandpaw protested shakily. “I’m not - it’s not bad -”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Spottedleaf said firmly.
“Where is Firepaw?” Bluestar called. “And the others? Whitestorm? Yellowfang?”
Sandpaw blinked. “Um -”
“We’re here!”
A sigh of relief swept through the camp as Whitestorm pushed his way into the camp, followed by a bloodied Firepaw and a harried Yellowfang.
“All of you, into the medicine den,” Spottedleaf ordered crisply.
“The kits!” Firepaw called. “Did the kits -”
“Ravenpaw brought them back shortly after you arrived,” Redtail assured him.
“He was very brave,” Whitestorm meowed, nudging Firepaw towards the medicine den. “He broke them out of ShadowClan’s camp himself.”
“Are they hurt?” Firepaw demanded, stumbling a little as he trailed after Whitestorm.
Spottedleaf shook her head. “Shaken, as you might imagine, but they’re quite all right. Now, if you would -”
Redtail licked Sandpaw’s ear. “You too,” he meowed, his eyes shining fondly.
Sandpaw ducked her head and trailed after Firepaw, watching as the tip of his tail disappeared into the ferns.
He’d saved her.
~~
“I, Bluestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn.”
Sandpaw glowed with anticipation. This was it - this was her warrior ceremony, the thing she’d been working towards her entire life.
Next to her, Ravenpaw was practically quivering in anticipation - in comparison, Firepaw looked almost bored. But there was a light in his eyes and a proud tilt to his chin that broke through his cool, unaffected composure.
Sandpaw could have grinned. For all his future knowledge, a warrior ceremony was still special.
“Sandpaw,” Bluestar called. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
“I do,” Sandpaw said proudly.
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name,” Bluestar announced. “Sandpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Sandstorm. StarClan honors your courage and spirit, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”
Bluestar smiled.
“Ravenpaw,” she called. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
Ravenpaw nodded vigorously. “I do!”
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Ravenpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Ravenshadow. StarClan honors your cunning and compassion, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”
Ravenshadow beamed.
“Firepaw,” Bluestar called, finally. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
“I do.” Firepaw’s words sounded like an ancient oath - something written in blood at the founding of the four clans.
Bluestar bowed her head. “Then by the powers of StarClan,” she meowed, “I give you your warrior name. Firepaw, from this moment on you will be known as Fireheart. StarClan honors your guile and strength, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”
Her face softened. “I am proud to have you as my warrior. Serve your clan well, young one.”
“Sandstorm! Ravenshadow! Fireheart!”
Sandstorm’s chest swelled with pride as she looked out over her clan. Whitestorm was sitting in the front row, his pelt still scarred from the claws of the ShadowClan warriors. Redtail sat beside him - Frostfur and Goldenflower were nearby, cheering with the rest. Even Greypaw’s eyes were shining and he chanted Fireheart’s name as loud as the others.
Dustpaw was watching from the medicine den. Their eyes met briefly, then he turned away.
CHAPTER NOTES
And we've reached the end of Into the Wild!
As promised, from now on, Ouroboros will only be posted <<HERE>> on Ao3 - you don't even need an account, I promise. (Plus it has a nifty little subscribe feature that'll shoot you an email whenever I update, and you can leave a million comments telling me how much each chapter hurt you, personally.) I love you guys, I really do, but unfortunately WCRP is just one more site than I can handle right now, and I'm already established over on Ao3. (Check out my other writing over there if you get the chance.) I hope to see you all over there - and in the Discord server!
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Post by phantomstar57 on Sept 22, 2019 20:46:52 GMT -5
I am so sad to see you leave here.
Your fic has become one of my favs to follow. I have a lot of vision issues and many sites do not accommodate my need for enlarged print esp on this lappie. I will try your other site and just pray I can handle reading there.
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Nov 21, 2024 15:09:07 GMT -5
Nov 21, 2024 15:09:07 GMT -5
