Bisexual
larkfeather
A little too excited that Black Widow is going to be in Black Panther #halfgayproblems
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Post by larkfeather on Sept 5, 2019 18:44:09 GMT -5
Prolouge
The moon cast its great glow below, giving life to the world underneath. Shadowed clouds covered the sky, hinting at a heavy snow throughout the night. Beyond the clouds, tiny stars flicked as far as the eye can see. A Twolegplace sprawled north endlessly, alive within itself. South of the weird wooden dens lay a thick forest that was carved from an endless river. Rolling hills rose beyond trees. On the hilltop, two figures lopped across the moorland. A massive tabby, his muscles rippling under his fur as he desperately tried to escape. His claws dug into the soft heather in attempt to propel himself forwards. The frigid air only encouraged him to go faster, his lungs burning for more oxygen than he could take in. His heart pounded hard against his chest, jaws gapping for air. Without any warning, his paws slipped out from underneath and his shoulder skidded across the slick hilltop. A soft grunt escaped his lips as he struggled to his paws, sides heaving. The tabby tom shook out his pelt and faced a white she-cat with her own set of thick onyx stripes. Her face was narrow, marked with tabby stripes. Thick black stripes swirled across her feather fur, thinning out to wrap around her tail. Stars reflected beautifully in her breathtaking crystal blue eyes that had a glimmer of pride and amusement as she circled the tom. “Ha! Even with a head start I won!” Her muzzle tilted upwards triumphantly. “Only because it's too cold,” he gasped heavily. He glanced at her, his green eyes glowing with the moons light. “Excuses, excuses…” She taunted, rubbing against his side. Her nose brushed against his cheek as she leaned against his shoulder. “If we fought then I would have won!” He protested, wrapping his tail around hers. “Would you have?” The white tabby she-cat murmured in his ear, her voice suddenly tight with grief. She took a couple steps away, ears flattening. Her gaze shifted to some fresh wounds that scattered the tabby’s coat. “No matter how hurt I am, I will never lose to protect you and our kits,” his voice was barely a whisper, "Windecho, I love you so much. You know this. You have nothing to lose now.” As soon as those final words he regretted it. He knew how sensitive she was about the most recent battle between their clans. A heavy sigh escaped from Windecho, her head hanging low, “Once, warrior's life was what I wanted. I was always a Clan cat, no matter how hard things got. Occasional skirmishes, some big battles. But there was always this feeling invincibility, but that vanished after Sootfire died.” Only a couple sunrises ago there had been a fatal battle between IceClan and EarthClan. Queens could not fight, so Windecho was safe, but her sister was one of the lives lost. IceClan had taken a toll as well, its leader was harshly wounded and barely hanging on to his final life.They had also lost an apprentice and an elderly warrior would be retiring because of permanent damage to an eye. “Why don’t we run away?” He offered as he padded over to her. The tom sat down with a wince because of his sore muscles. “We can raise our kits together, settle down somewhere beyond the Clans.” Windecho smiled slightly but shook her head, “Gorsewhisker, you just can’t leave IceClan. Shellstar needs you now more than ever. Maybe when things cool down, but who knows when that will be? And if we were caught?”
She trailed off, resting against his shoulder. Her eyelids slowly shut, taking in his scent. Windecho let herself think about her unborn kits. She tried to avoid thinking about them, having a foreboding feeling that something was going to happen and she would lose them. The entire Clan knew she was pregnant because some annoying tom that had been chasing her for moons confronted her in front of all of their Clanmates. “We won’t get caught,” Gorsewhisker purred, “Besides, Tigertail would be happy that I left. Overjoyed, he never cared for our competition.” A flicker of annoyance flashed through his mind at the thought of his arrogant brother. “We can leave now, no one will know where we went if we move fast.” Gorsewhisker declared, lifting his muzzle to the sky. “We can build our own Clan, or maybe just find a couple other cats to stay with until we can live on our own safety.” No matter how much he wanted to, there was no convincing Windecho to leave. He felt his own doubt and guilt, fully aware of how selfish he was being. But he couldn’t fight what was in his heart, he wanted to be with Windecho more than be a part of IceClan. “I have close friends to think about. Sootfire’s kits too. Little Batpaw lost his mother,” her words almost seemed like he had convinced her. “We can take him with us,” Gorsewhisker pointed out desperately,”Please at least consider it. You are all I need in life.” He turned to face her. His soft green eyes were both wide and pleading, “Mouse-dung, Windecho! If relations weren’t so sour between our Clan’s I would go with you.” “You know I love you, right? More than anything?” Windecho pressed her nose to his, “You wouldn’t be happy in FireClan. Our only option would be to be run, IceClan wouldn’t accept me nor FireClan you. I can’t take Batpaw away from his father, even if I don’t like him.” She lifted her head, ears erect and mouth open slightly, as if scenting something. He assumed that she was just being cautious, no right-minded cat would be out in this freezing weather. “Just let me know at the next Gathering, just give me a nod or a slight shake of your head. We’ll leave af-” From behind a small rock outcropping came a slender red-tabby tom, his yellow-green eyes burning with sickening delight. He slowly stalked towards the two cats with a menacing grin sprawled across his face. Both Gorsewhisker and Windecho lept to their paws, hackles raised. A growl resonated from the back of Gorsewhiskers throat as he stepped in front of Windecho protectively. “You are an utter disappointment, I am not surprised. You were always weak for a pretty face,” The red tabby sneered, his fur having an almost bloodred gleam from the slow sunrise from behind. “Tigertail!” He snarled, tail curling with disgust. Gorsewhisker was suddenly thrown into a flashback of the previous battle. His vision was red and hazy, hardly able to distinguish the difference between Clanmates and enemies. A couple of fox-lengths ahead was Tigertail wrestling with a vaguely white she-cat. She was fighting as hard as she could, her moves flawed and panicked as she tried to defend herself. Gorsewhisker could only stand helplessly as he watched Tigertail go blind with bloodlust, delivering a fatal throat slash to her stomach. A screech of pain jolted Gorsewhisker back to reality. In the mere heartbeats he was distracted, Tigertail had tackled Windecho, standing over her with his claws against her throat. “What moron goes out on the brink of a snowstorm, days after getting some nasty wounds? You seemed too happy in the past couple of moons and I figured that there had to be something up.” His gaze slid over the white tabby she-cat he was holding hostage,”I suppose I can give you credit, she is one fine cat.” Windecho let out a threatening snarl and tried to wither out of Tigertail’s tight grasp. He only dug his claws deeper, forcing her to stay still. “A pity she is being wasted on you. How about we make a trade, eh? Run away. You two can be happy. I will obviously be made deputy, after all I am the only cat capable of leading IceClan to its peak potential. I’ll have to tell everyone though, poor Shellstar will be shattered but who cares if you get your happy ending?” Now, looking at Tigertail and his options, Gorsewhisker realized with a sinking feeling that he could not flee. He knew that no matter what, Tigertail’s thirst for power wouldn’t stop. Tigertail only believed that strength is what mattered, nothing else. He could never leave IceClan, no matter how much he loved Windecho.
He paced, tail lashing violently as he circled Tigertail. Gorsewhisker looked carefully at his position over Windecho, seeing that he was savoring his right forepaw ever so slightly. Gathering himself, Gorsewhisker launched himself at his brother.
Tigertail anticipated his reaction as he rolled with the force of his attack and rolled with the momentum. He leaped to his paws, ready to spare against his brother. There as a flash of temptation in his eyes, almost as if he wanted Gorsewhisker to make a move.
Gorsewhisker eyed his brother cautiously, not wanting to engage in this childish behavior, “You will go back to camp and never speak about this. If you push me you are looking at the moons of border patrol.” This was as close to a threat he would resort too. He knew that Tigertail would not let it go, ever. Even if he gave up his deputyship, he could not trust Tigertail to let him and Windecho leave in peace.
“You do not get to have that option. Who really holds the power here, really? I can go straight to Shellstar and Violetstar and let them know of this affair. All I want is to be deputy, you can stay in IceClan or run,” Tigertail circled Gorsewhisker, but his gaze was still focused on Windecho behind him.
There was no way out of this situation. Panic numbed his paws as his mind buzzed with endless outcomes of tonight. He only cared about Windecho’s safety. There was only one way for this night to end, not just for Windecho, but for IceClan as well. The Clan couldn’t know he took a mate outside of his clan and was ready and willing to leave him, nor could he risk Windecho’s safety either.
“Run!” He hissed over his shoulder before charging at Tigertail. She abided and darted off down the hill in the direction of the FireClan camp.
Gorsewhisker turned his attention to Tigertail now that Windecho was gone and he was no longer distracted. His brother was fast, but predictable. The red tabby tom went to step aside but his right leg was knocked out from underneath as Gorsewhisker threw himself on top. He slammed all of his weight on to Tigertail’s back with his huge paws, succumbing to the burning rage in his chest. He can’t have IceClan. He can’t have Windecho. He can’t.
The tom let out a screech of pain and went limp. Gorsewhisker relaxed for a heartbeat, stunned and unsure of what he had just done. That was all the time Tigertail needed to worm out from Gorsewhiskers paws. He had no time to react before Tigertail sank his sharp teeth into the base of his neck. He knew this move. This was a last-resort move used in desperation, a move that mentors stressed to never use unless absolutely necessary. No matter how hard he shook body, Tigertail hung on tightly, his jaws clamped down harder on Gorsewhisker’s scruff.
He suddenly took off, running as fast as his exhausted body would allow with Tigertail’s additional weight and stinging wounds. He felt claws dig deep into his flanks in a failing attempt to hold on. The massive tabby planted his paws and bucked his hindquarters into the air, finally catapulting his brother off.
Gorsewhisker watched in horror as his brother’s body flew into the side of a slate of rock that broke through even surface of the hilltop. Blood roared in his ears, deafening him to the sickening snap and thud as Tigertails broken body hit the soft heather. He padded over to the limp tabby, heart in his throat.
Tigertail’s yellow eyes were dull and lifeless. He must have died on impact. Grief flooded his system, tinged heavily with guilt. He had killed his brother, but that wasn’t the reason he felt terrible. It was because he didn’t. There was a weird sense of relief, as it a huge weight was lifted from shoulders.
“What now?” Windecho had appeared from the shadows. Of course she didn’t actually retreat back to camp. She didn’t even look at Tigertail’s body as she guided Gorsewhisker away.
“I take his body back. Say a rogue attacked us,” Gorsewhisker croaked, soaking in her sweet scent to calm his fluttering heart.
“I’m so sorry, Tigertail was a great warrior, even if he was threatening us. I know you didn’t mean to kill him,” Windecho hummed, rasping her tongue over a fresh wound on his chest.
“Of course not, but why don’t I feel guilty? He was my brother, my kin,” Gorsewhisker gaped, flattening his ears as shame riddled his pelt.
“You still have me and our kits. I’ll think about leaving, but I need time,” she sighed, rubbing her muzzle affectionately under his chin.
“You should go home, the dawn patrol will by soon. I’ll see you at the next Gathering,” Gorsewhisker forced a half-hearted purr.
They touched noses for a heartbeat, finding reassurement and peace in her steady sky blue gaze. She stepped away and with a few bounds disappeared over the horizon, leaving Gorsewhisker alone on the ridge. The moment she left his sight, the frigid cold caught his attention. Thin, wispy flakes were falling from the darkening sky above. Gorsewhisker, with Tigertail’s scruff in his jaws, began to make his way down the slippery slope towards a thick forest. ‘I can’t believe I killed Tigertail. Why don’t I feel anything? We were never close but that doesn’t mean I didn’t care for him,’ he pondered, desperately hoping for Windecho to run away with him. Then he wouldn’t have to face Shellstar and the rest of the Clan, knowing he could never tell the truth about Tigertail’s death.
He was so focused on his path down the moor, he failed to scent some cat behind him, “The heart is always the hardest to resist but hurts more than any broken bone,” there was a soft meow in his ear. The voice was strained but held a note of confidence and authority, “But there is knowledge in pain. No cat is free of mistakes.” Confusion caused Gorsewhisker to turn immediately, eyes wide uncertainty, “Shellstar? What are you doing out here?” There was something off with the elderly leader though. He was no longer covered with claw marks and his body was no longer scrawny; he was muscular and built like a warrior in his prime, not the weathered leader Gorsewhisker admired. Shellstar looked like a younger cat, his white fur patched with black showed no sign of hunger, pain or struggle. There was almost a glow surrounding him, his eyes were speckled with bright stars.
“No… no. I can’t do this. I can’t lead IceClan. I am not ready…” Gorsewhisker stammered, backing away from his leader. His plan immediately evaporated the instant he realized that Shellstar was dead. Tigertail must have known that he joined StarClan, that's why he tried to force me out of being deputy.
“You must be ready. Fate waits for no cat. This moment was told in the stars for many moons,” Shellstar meowed, stepped forward to stand nose to nose with the tabby tom, “I know you feel helpless. Do not feel guilt for Tigertail’s death, he was trying to take advantage of your mistake. No living cat will know of this, but I ask only one thing of you, please, let her go.”
“But...” He protested weakly, shaking his head in disbelief. There were no words in his heart to express his overwhelming emotions. He didn’t want to let her go, Gorsewhisker wanted to raise his family with the cat he loved. “I can’t. How can I lead a Clan I’m not loyal to? My heart lies with Windecho, not IceClan. Shellstar appeared to get lighter, his paws slowly lifting off the ground. “What do I do? I need you to tell me what to do,” Gorsewhisker pleaded, he needed Shellstar to tell him what to do.
“Trust yourself. Trust your Clan. Your path does not lie with the wind, but with the future of the ice. Something is coming, something IceClan cannot face without you and your sacrifice. Three shall become four, led by one destined to walk alone as they leave a ripple of death with each step.”
“I’m not even leader yet and you’re leaving me with a prophecy?” Gorsewhisker questioned, knowing that he would not receive an answer. Shellstar didn’t respond, his body disappearing into the snow flurry around them as he completed his journey to StarClan.
Chapter 1
“Why do we have to help out the medicine cats? They have four paws, they are capable of gathering their own herbs,” a dark tabby tom complained quietly to the smaller dusky white she-cat that trotted next to him. In fairness, he was up early for dawn patrol that turned into a hunting party that barely brought back any prey. The frosty leaf-fall air disturbed even the thickest of fur, a lot of IceClan’s warriors were grumpy.
“Because all warriors need to learn that medicine cats are important,” a dilute tortoiseshell she-cat meowed over her shoulder. “We need to gather herbs before the final frost kills it off. My stores aren’t as full as I would have liked,” Willowcreek admitted with a swoosh of her tail.
Beside her was a small ginger tabby she-cat with dark russet stripes glanced back at him, an amused glint in her amber eyes as she responded smartly, “Do you think we eat herbs instead of prey? I learned to hunt, just as you need to learn how to help with fetching herbs.”
“I’d love to see you hold your own in a battle,” the tom retorted.
“And when you are barely hanging onto life after a fight with EarthClan, who will save you then?” She turned to face him annoyed by the arrogant toms attitude.
“Redpaw, Darkpaw, knock it off. You’re scaring away all of the prey!” A light brown she-cat appeared from a clump of bushes. “Gathering herbs does not require all this noise.”
“So hunting isn’t going too well Hawkfire?” Larkpaw asked, her voice heavy with disappointment. “I wanted to try the treetops for squirrels and birds before it got dark.”
“We’ll try in the morning,” her mentor promised with a friendly nod.
Darkpaw flattened his ears and mumbled some words to himself, choosing wisely to not share with Willowcreek and Hawkfire.
“Keep in mind that just because I think you are ready to be a warrior soon, doesn’t mean your first moon as a warrior can’t be spent assisting Willowcreek and Redpaw gathering herbs in the snow,” Hawkfire replied smartly, glaring at Darkpaw.
“Soon?” This time, it was the young white tabby she-cat chirped, eyes wide with excitement. Her blue eyes were sparkling with anticipation at what her warrior name could possibly be. This was the first time her mentor had mentioned the assessment, Larkpaw had felt that she was going to be an apprentice forever.
“At this rate, Brightstorm’s kits will be warriors before your brother,” Willowcreek commented, her voice light and full of amusement.
“I am a much better warrior than Larkpaw,” Darkpaw protested, “I am stronger, smarter. Someday, I’ll be leader. Maybe Larkpaw will be my deputy, you’re too soft, all fur and no muscle.” He fluffed out his fur so that he was on giant tabby fuzzball.
“You can’t be a leader if you can’t respect your medicine cats,” Larkpaw rolled her eyes, ignoring Darkpaw’s friendly jabs. She knew that when it came down to it, Darkpaw would fight to the death for her and she would do the same. Even if he was a moronic fuzzball, she still loved him.
“Larkpaw is right, what kind of leader doesn’t listen or trust your medicine cats? I admire your ambition, it is a great trait, but dangerous if you don’t understand consequences,” Redpaw advised calmly. The young medicine cat stopped suddenly, darting into a clump of ferns without a word of warning.
Hawkfire stopped Darkpaw from charging headfirst after her with an extended paw, cautiously following after the medicine cat apprentice. Her body was low against the ground, moving cautiously over the forest floor to avoid disturbing any debris.
Willowcreek rolled her eyes at Hawkfire’s serious deposition and jerked her head at Larkpaw and Darkpaw to follow. The siblings exchanged a confused glance before following the tortoiseshell she-cat, their claws unsheathed. The petite red tabby appeared moments later, jaws stuffed with catnip. She was clearly delighted by her discovery and from the way she held her head high in the air.
“Great job, Redpaw, you found a fresh patch of catnip,” Darkpaw grumbled disappointedly, hoping that she would produce a morsel of freshkill.
“Sorry to disappoint you Darkpaw, but catnip is far more valuable right now than any sort of prey, what with life-bare onit’s way,” she muffled dryly through the leaves.
“You can’t get your warrior name if greencough kills you first,” Larkpaw teased, headbutting her brother affectionately.
“I think I can handle these three if you’d like to go continue hunting,” Willowcreek meowed with a flick of her tail, “Redpaw and I can keep them in line.”
“Are you sure? They are a pawful,” Hawkfire offered eagerly, “I don’t mind staying.”
“Hawkfire, seriously. We’ll be fine, I have two strong young cats to fight off any danger and a very capable apprentice that can hold her own,” the wise medicine cat reassured the elder warrior with a gentle nudge. Wordlessly, Hawkfire disappeared into the growth. Willowcreek was left alone with three young cats, although Redpaw had a natural sense of maturity and was far past the age for when a normal warrior would have received their name.
“We want to get as much as possible without damaging the roots so it will grow back later,” the dilute tortoiseshell medicine cat instructed, holding back the fern folds with her paws. “And be careful not to bite hard either, it’s going to be tempting,” she added.
“Okay,” Larkpaw followed her instructions, carefully nipping the base of the leaves. The sweet scent caused her to salivate as she gently picked up her mouthful of catnip. She stepped back as Darkpaw, tail lashing, reluctantly snagged his own pile.
His entire body was rigid, his pawsteps heavy and claws digging into the ground. Darkpaw didn’t speak out, but he was obviously mad about these boring herb gathering task. Larkpaw didn’t mind, it was peaceful out in the forest without having to be required to hunt or train. Rarely did a cat get a spare moment like this, to absorb the beauty of the forest.
“Redpaw, lead the way to camp. I’ll catch up with you, I’m going to grab some watermint by the stream,” she meowed distractedly, glancing up at the sun that was lowering from its peak. Redpaw had a little extra pep in her step as she led the way back to camp. It was the same trail Larkpaw had used since she was first an apprentice, but this was simply a power move to teach Darkpaw a lesson. She didn’t mind the slow pace either, it was relaxing and welcomed change of pace.
As the three young cats headed down the divet towards camp, Larkpaw sensed a change in mood. Her ears pricked, trying to catch any sound since her nose was of no use with it’s delightful yet overwhelming smell of catnip. Something in her gut told her that something was going on, Redpaw must have sensed it as well because she bounded the rest of the way into camp.
The instant her paws stepped through the bramble barrier, Larkpaw’s heart dropped. The camp was alive and moving, but not in a good way. Gorsestar and Talonshadow were crouched over a still body, murmuring quietly to each other. Two other warriors were battered and bruised but still standing next to them, eyes dull with pain. Redpaw abandoned her herbs and ran over to the injured cats, Darkpaw and Larkpaw on her tail. “Great StarClan! What happened?” Her gaze ran over Swifttooth and Silverpaw, both cats were concerningly bloodied. Swifttooth had a deep wound across his shoulder and Silverpaw was sporting a slash across his cheek that pared with his freshly shredded ear.
It took Larkpaw a moment to recognize the limp black body, but once she caught sight of the unmistakable empty yellow eyes, she knew who it was. Sharpclaw. IceClan’s formidable deputy, a massive fierce tom that wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“Rogues,” Swifttooth hissed through her teeth. Now that she was closer, Larkpaw saw with dismay that the ginger she-cat was missing patches of fur and had several gnarly scratches on her flank. She was missing a chunk of flesh on her chest, too close for her liking. The rogues weren’t messing around.
Redpaw froze, realizing that she was the only medicine cat in camp. Willowcreek still hadn’t arrived, so it was up to her to tend the other cats until she arrived. Both Swifttooth and Silverpaw looked like they were going to live, but if Redpaw didn’t hurry, they would be at the mercy of infection.
“Hey, you’ve got this,” Darkpaw murmured, dropping his herbs next to Redpaw’s. Larkpaw was surprised by her brother’s sudden gentle tone, he rested his tail on her back and said quietly, “Tell me what to do.”
Something clicked in her head and Redpaw was able to find the confidence she needed, “Darkpaw, go into the medicine cat hollow and grab as many cobwebs as possible. Larkpaw, you’re the fastest cat I know, find Willowcreek.”
Larkpaw nodded, abandoning her herbs with the others and sprung out of camp. Free of the catnip, she opened her mouth to scent the air for the gray tortoiseshell. She leaped over a dead tree, clearing it with inches to spare. Her paws barely skidded the leaf litter as she took a sharp turn, finally catching wind of Willowcreek’s leafy scent.
She caught sight of the stream, carefully treading the edge of the stream with her eyes focused on the bank, where she assumed watermint grew. Larkpaw skidded to a halt, heart pounding against her chest as she tried to gather her breath.
Down by a fallen tree that connected EarthClan’s territory with IceClan’s, Willowcreek was talking with a pale gray she-cat with scattered black patches. The way the cat’s moved around each other, talking closely with their tails intertwined. She had only seen this behavior from mates, and from what she saw…
She shook her head, this wasn’t her business. Larkpaw couldn’t wait anymore, there were two injured cats back in camp that needed a fully fledged medicine cat.
“Willowcreek!” Larkpaw took precaution and hid herself behind a bush, she didn’t want the respected medicine cat to suspect that she knew about her secret. She didn’t care, after all, the warrior code stated that medicine cats couldn’t take a mate and kits, but there wasn’t such a risk with a she-cat, was it?
She waited a couple heartbeats before revealing herself, relieved to see that the other cat was indeed gone when she leaped out of the ferns. Willowcreek was bounding towards her, carrying the watermint. Larkpaw was surprised at how relaxed she was, her fur was flat and there was no fear scent about her, although she could still scent the unfamiliar warrior on her pelt.
“What’s wrong?” Willowcreek muffled through her herbs, eyes wide with concern.
“Rogues, Sharpclaw is dead, two more injured,” Larkpaw meowed curtly. She didn’t respond, instead she hopped to her paws and bounded through the trees, leaving Larkpaw alone by the creek.
“Here we go again,” Larkpaw groaned under her breath and shook out her pelt before following at a hurried pace.
Heavy shadows began to cast over the forest as the sun had lowered behind the trees. Dusk had arrived when she finally trudged through the barrier. Redpaw had moved Swifttooth and Silverpaw into the medicine cat den. Judging by the absence of Willowcreek, the primary medicine cat had joined her.
Darkpaw was sitting outside the tree hollow where the medicine cat’s were, boredly poking at the half eaten vole. She had never her brother turn down a piece of fresh-kill before, something really must be worrying him.
Larkpaw herself wasn’t too hungry, all the running had left her stomach feeling empty. A part of it was what she had seen with Willowcreek and the unknown warrior, she could have sworn that the she-cat was familiar but she couldn’t place it. She racked her memory, but couldn’t bring a name to mind with her limited knowledge of clan cats.
“You did great today, Larkpaw. You ran swiftly to find Willowcreek, listening to your medicine cat without question. I was surprised to see Darkpaw step up as well,” a deep meow came from behind her, startling the young apprentice.
“Oh, thank you,” she licked her chest a couple of times. Larkpaw’s heart quickened as she was unable to distinguish anything from behind his dark green eyes, he was always hard to read.
“Hawkfire and Talonshadow agreed that you and your brother are ready for your warrior names,” he commented, his whiskers twitching. “Tomorrow will be your warrior assessment. Since Hawkfire is tending after for sister, I will be judging your hunting. ”
“Really?” Larkpaw gasped, she was expecting it to be a couple days, especially after the rogue attack. Her entire body went numb for a second with terror that the Clan leader was going to be performing her assessment.
“You know, ever since I found you two abandoned on the moor, I’ve watched you grow into fine warriors. I will always stand by my decision to bring you to IceClan,” Gorsestar murmured, darkness flickered in his eyes as he went distant for a heartbeat. “Neither you or Darkpaw let taunts bother you, instead you let them fuel you.” ‘Easy for you to say, you haven’t had to be taunted and teased about having rogue blood coursing through your veins, since kinship is all any cat cares about’, Larkpaw thought harshly but held her tongue.
He must have sensed her doubt when he meowed gently, “I know it hasn’t been easy. I really do. Did you know I didn’t want to be leader?”
Larkpaw blinked, surprised by this revelation. Gorsestar was a fresh leader when she was brought to the clan, he had only served the clan for a season. Whispers amongst the clan were that there was a reason he was so committed to the warrior code, but no cat really knew why. She just assumed that it was all leaders that were obsessive over the rules.
Since she couldn’t find a response, Gorsestar continued, “There was a horrible battle with FireClan. Cat’s were dead on both sides, our leader was fighting for his life. Shellstar’s leadership didn’t even survive two leaf-bares. He was a rash cat that led with his emotions and not his head. He was old for a new leader, when I accepted the deputyship I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I had no ambition to be leader, I knew there were more suitable cats to lead. Like my brother,” he explained, his voice heavy with grief, “Being a leader took a lot out on Shellstar. He pushed himself hard, by the time he took the role seriously, it was too late. He was terribly wounded but he still had two lives left, but he lost them in one fatal swoop.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Larkpaw questioned, glancing up at the massive dark tabby.
“You and Darkpaw remind me a lot of myself and Tigertail, except you two get along. Your brother is ambitious, he’ll run into a fight without thinking of the consequences. You play it safe, you listen to those above you, but you’re smart. You have so much potential. Just because you aren’t Clanborn,” Gorsestar meowed earnestly, dipping his head to her, “Doesn’t mean you can’t be a remarkable warrior.”
“Thank you for taking us in,” Larkpaw mumbled under her breath, unsure if he wanted appreciation from saving her from certain death or what. She wasn’t used to talking to Gorsestar, let alone praise.
“Larkpaw, I’m just trying to say…” He shook his head and sighed, “I don’t know. I look forward to the future and seeing you and Darkpaw grow into the fine warriors you are always meant to be.” Gorsestar looked torn, he clearly wanted to say more but was at a loss for words. Instead, he sulked towards a group of senior warriors waiting below the base of the Stone Ledge.
“They must be discussing the next deputy,” Darkpaw nudged her shoulder, “What did Gorsestar want?”
“Honestly? I have no idea, although he did say that our warrior assessment is tomorrow,” Larkpaw added, “So if all goes well…”
“We get our warrior names!” Darkpaw’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Who do you think the deputy will be?” Larkpaw questioned, glancing around the camp as she wildly guessed who was in the running for one of the most esteemed position in the clan.
“Heathersun is the senior warrior, it would make sense. But she’s older, so she would probably get a couple seasons, maybe see it through until the next leaf-bare,” Darkpaw meowed thoughtfully, “Of course I’d love for Talonshadow, but with his shoulder…” He glanced at his mentor, a lithe russet tom, his pelt marked with thick black patches as he emerged from the entrance with a freshly killed squirrel in his jaws.
“You just want him to be deputy because that means you’d be the deputy’s apprentice, even for half a day. Thrushspark would be a better choice, he’s a skilled tactician and he knows a fair deal about herbs,” Larkpaw licked her paw and drew it over her ears.
“Just because his sister is the medicine cat doesn’t mean he should be deputy, besides, why do we need a deputy that has knowledge of herbs? We have two perfectly fine medicine cats,” Darkpaw pointed out, scanning the cats around him for another viable choice. The two siblings discussed the potential candidates until the moon started to peak above the treeline, going through pretty much every cat in the clan.
Gorsestar’s powerful yowl was loud enough to wake all the prey in the forest, “All cats of IceClan, cats with loyalty and passion in their hearts, join me below the Stone Ledge for a meeting.”
A fair amount of the cats were awake holding vigil for Sharpclaw, with the exception of the elders and queens and the cats assigned to dawn patrol. It took a couple of moments for everyone to gather, Willowcreek bounded up to the pale pile of rocks where Gorsestar took to take her proper place. Redpaw sluggishly padded over to Larkpaw and Darkpaw, tail dragging in the dirt.
“Sharpclaw was a phenomenal warrior and a great friend to me but now he rests with StarClan. He helped me see IceClan through tough times. But times are changing, there is a heaviness in the air that warns I will need another deputy, one just as supportive and wise as Sharpclaw was. That is why I choose Talonshadow to be IceClan’s deputy, you’re loyalty and bravery proceeds your rogue blood,” Gorsestar beckoned for the startled warrior to join him on top of the stone. This bold choice confirmed the young leader’s stance that he believed that rogues were capable of being notable warriors.
Eyes wide with shock, Talonshadow abided and leaped next to his leader in a few bounds. His movement betrayed nothing of his sensitive shoulder, the moonlight catching the gleam of the nasty scars across his back. He didn’t hesitate to speak as he dipped his head down to the cats below, “I am honored and shocked but will not disappoint you, that fateful day I staggered into IceClan territory forever changed my life. I never expected to be welcomed into IceClan and will continue to fight and prove to all of you that I am fit for deputy.”
Darkpaw yowled loudly in support, as did a fair portion of the clan. However, there was a small group of warriors that looked displeased. A young cream tom flattened his ears and looked away, talking harshly to a tortoiseshell apprentice and a gray tabby tom nodded in agreement.
Gorsestar must have seen this interaction because he stared down at them, tail curled neatly around his paws, “Spidernose, do you have some concerns to share with the rest of the clan?”
He flinched, reluctantly turned his attention to Gorsestar. There wasn't any fear in his eyes, but challenge, “There are plenty of other worthy warriors, but you chose a crippled rogue to be your deputy instead of a more worthy cat?”
Darkpaw bristled, a low growl forming from his throat. If not for Redpaw murmuring something in his ear, she was sure he would swiped some sense into Spidernose.
“Talonshadow has done more than enough to prove himself, maybe if you focused more on your clan instead of chasing she-cats, than you could potentially be deputy someday,” Gorsestar meowed deeply, his expression completely blank.
“I am not speaking for myself, only for IceClan’s future. This is no disrespect to Talonshadow, but there are more experienced warriors that should be deputy. It doesn’t look good to the other Clans if our deputy was a rogue,” Spidernose’s voice faltered nervously as he spoke out of term to his leader.
“Did you know that EarthClan’s medicine cat was a kittypet? Archstar has parents from two different clans, we have two budding warriors in our own clan. There are other cats in other clan’s that don’t have pure clan blood and that does not make them any less of a warrior,” Willowcreek said suddenly, leaping down from the Stone Ledge to meet Spidernose face to face. “Does that mean they are any less of a cat than you? Blood does not dictate loyalty, but those cats themselves have to work harder than Clanborns to show they belong here just like you do.”
“Sorry,” Spidernose backed away from her, tail between his legs. “That’s what I thought,” Willowcreek hissed calmly, turning her scorching gaze throughout the rest of the clan, “Any other cat have something to say?”
“I will not allow disharmony in my clan. If you have an issue, please come to me,” Gorsestar spoke calmly, “Swifttooth and Silverpaw are going to recover completely, they’ll be back to their duties in no time. No cat, even warriors, are allowed out on their own until we figure out what to do with these rogues. Their scent has been building upon the Twolegplace border, this is the first attack IceClan though, over prey no less. We will be doubling patrols at that border to force our scent.”
“We won’t let Sharpclaw die in vain!” His mate, Lightfeather, growled loudly. She still sat next to his body alongside his son, Drizzlepaw. His gaze hadn’t moved from his father’s still body, his tail lashed angrily in agreement.
“And we won’t. I have a feeling the other Clan’s have had issues with these rogues as well, so we will discuss further action at the next Gathering,” Gorsestar meowed gently. “Now is not the time for fighting between my own warriors,” he focused his gaze on Spidernose.
“These rogues will regret ever setting paw on IceClan territory,” Talonshadow agreed, “We’ll get revenge.”
“It’s getting late. Those of you who are not holding vigil for Sharpclaw are encouraged to sleep. The world does not stop just because we lost one cat.” The bulky tabby tom disappeared, probably to retreat to his den underneath the stone.
Larkpaw wasn’t one to complain, her paws ached from the long day of trekking along the territory herb hunting. Her heart tinged at the thought of her warrior exam tomorrow, all of her hard work was finally coming to fruition. She tolerated Flypaw’s teasing and glares from Spidernose, freezing early morning hunts and late night patrols. Not that any of that would end, it just felt like all the training was worthwhile. Maybe she would finally feel like she belonged.
She curled up in her nest, her feathery tail curling up over her face. Larkpaw took a deep breath, soaking in the musty forest scent of IceClan. Drizzlepaw’s scent was stale, he hadn’t been here all day. Her heart panged for the young apprentice, he was so young to lose his father.
Warmth pressed against her back as Darkpaw joined her in the apprentice den. The thick clay walls did little to keep the den warm, but it had its own cozy feeling.
Larkpaw started to doze off with her brother's comforting scent guiding her into a light sleep, her dreams rich with grand battles and impressive hunts.
Her peaceful sleep was disturbed by a panicked yowl, partially muffled by the layer of earth that made up the apprentice cave. “My kits are gone!”
Larkpaw shot up out of her nest, Darkpaw right on her tail. Any strain of exhaustion was gone in an instant as the overwhelming stench of fear filled the air. Her heart skipped a beat when the stench of rogue filled her nose. The moon had barely started it’s descent, dew was still forming on the grass underneath her paws as she bounded into the clearing.
There were a small pawful of cats that were awake, the few warriors that were awake serving vigil were gathered around Gorsestar, waiting for course of action. Talonshadow wasn’t waiting for any orders, he raced past her towards the entrance, “Larkpaw! Darkpaw! With me!”
She didn’t hesitate, Larkpaw charged after the deputy. She caught up with him and asked, “What happened?” Talonshadow slowed just enough for her snail of a brother to catch up before replying, “Brightstorm’s kits were stolen, right underneath our noses by rogues.”
“Right in our own camp!” Darkpaw spat, his long fur bristling in disgust.
“Larkpaw, follow their scent. It will be easier to sneak up on them with one cat, but do NOT engage. You can’t take on a group of rogues on your own. We’ll follow slowly, keeping an eye out for more of them. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Larkpaw agreed reluctantly, opening her jaws to absorb the early morning scents. She could scent a mouse nearby, the swoosh of feathers above hinted that an owl also noticed. She was able to separate her clanmates, finding the harsh scent of several unfamiliar cats.
Her white pelt wouldn’t help her hide very well in the shadows, even with her darker gray tabby patches she would be standing out like a white rabbit in the forest. That wasn’t her concern now, she had to find the rogues and stop them. She knew a family of rogues had set their own border towards the Twolegplace that acted as a boundary back against IceClan and FireClan, the trail she was following seemed to head that way as well.
Larkpaw kept to the shadows, keeping her lithe body low to the forest floor as the scents grew stronger by the tail-length. It didn’t take long before she heard whispers, what she initially thought was wind rattling bare branches were low voices of cats.
Her heart quickened as the pale moonlight showed three cats in front of her, quickly following the wooden fence that separated the Clan’s from the Twolegplace. She narrowed her eyes, making out the small shapes of Wrenkit and Canarykit hanging in the jowls of two of the rogues.The tuxedo she-cat was a lot smaller than the other two, she would make an easy target. If anything, Larkpaw could slow down the rogues in time for Talonshadow and Darkpaw to find her.
If not, Wrenkit and Canarykit would be lost to the daunting maze of dogs, Twolegs, and the rogues that ripped them away from their mother. She had to try.
Larkpaw stayed downwind, getting as close to the patrol as possible without engaging. Her hope was to grab the black and white she-cat and drag her into the shadows where she could get Canarykit to safety before going back for Wrenkit.
Off in the distance, furious screeching split through the peaceful night. Birds scattered at the sound, although the fighting went quiet a couple moments later. The leader, a long furred ginger and white tom, picked up his pace to a fast gallop at the sound of the fighting.
“Mouse-dung,” Larkpaw hissed to herself before springing to action, slamming her head into the she-cat’s flank. The she-cat’s body hit the processed wood with a solid thump, stunned as she hit the ground.
Canarykit squealed as she hit the ground, “Larkpaw! Yay!”
“Run!” She growled at the small kit, fluffing up her fur as she confronted the speckled brown tom. He had turned around in shock, almost dropping Wrenkit too. He ducked his head when she swiped at his eyes. Instead of making a move, he leaped up and balanced on the thin planks of wood, out of her reach.
The tuxedo shook herself, finally having caught her breathe. In a heartbeat, she tackled Larkpaw to the ground, moving a lot faster than she expected from a cat with no training. Pinned underneath the cat, she rapidly thumped her hindlegs against her underbelly. Tufts of white fur clung to her claws, she was rewarded with warm liquid soaked her paws.
She yowled in pain, slashing at Larkpaw’s eyes. The warrior apprentice turned her head to the side just in time, wincing as the rogue claws raked the side of her face. Fueled by rage, Larkpaw kicked out, managing to knock the tuxedo off balance. The tuxedo rogue was able to score her claws down her lower flank as she stumbled to the side though.
She saw her chance and took it, Larkpaw aggressively jabbed her muzzle into the base of her throat. The rogue stepped away in a coughing fit, rubbing her neck uncomfortably.
Larkpaw didn’t have time to run, she turned around only to meet muzzle to muzzle with a furious sandy tabby tom, yellow eyes blazing in anger. Beside him stood the ginger tom, Canarykit squirming angrily in his jaws. His fur was ruffled, his paws and muzzle stained with fresh blood.
“Whisperheart, I sent you two get kits and you allowed for an apprentice to follow you?” He stared down at Larkpaw, tail curled high in the air.
Another rogue took the IceClan kit from this ‘Whisperheart’ so that he could answer, “I’m sorry, it was an accident.” He looked like he wanted to comment on the two out of place toms that his patrol was guiding past them, but he held his tongue.
“Clearly. She fought hard against Weaselblaze, so she’ll be useful. But since she is your mistake, she’s your responsibility now,” his gaze flickered from the dazed she-cat before pushing past her without waiting for his response.
Larkpaw was beginning to realize there weren’t just one or two other rogues lingering, but enough to take up two patrols.
“Let’s go,” he meowed quietly, flicking his tail in the direction where the rogues were running alongside the fence. Four rogues flanked two young warriors, keeping them trapped between the fence. Worry stabbed at her gut, these cats were up to something strange and she was terrified about what this meant for the Clans.
“No,” Larkpaw whipped her tail, digging her claws into the loose soil in protest.
“Please... My father isn’t one to be messed with,” his amber eyes darkened as he glanced in the direction where the tom had gone. “It’s better for the both of us if you come willingly.”
“I have a Clan to get back to, unlike you rogues I don’t take pride in scavenging and stealing other cat’s kits,” Larkpaw snapped. Even if she didn’t return to IceClan with the kits, she would be able to lead them here at least. She was surprised that he hadn’t tried to force her, not yet at least, she expected all rogues to jump to aggression first. Larkpaw could tell by the strain on his broad face that he was growing frustrated.
“If you don’t come willingly, he’ll force you,” Whisperheart warned, his voice earnest.
Larkpaw was visibly torn between making a break for it, after all, Talonshadow and Darkpaw had to be around here somewhere, right? She sighed heavily as it became aware to her that if she willingly went with them, than at least she would be able to protect the kits.
“I don’t have a choice do I?” She wasn’t asking for an answer, nor did she wait for one as she sulked after the rogues.
Whisperheart quietly walked next to her, his gaze constantly searching the trees around them as if expecting something to jump out at them. To her dismay, it appeared that the IceClan patrol will never reach them in time.
“Are you okay?” His voice was hardly more than a whisper as if he didn’t want the other rogues to hear him. Larkpaw realized as blood dripped down her cheek to the stain the grass at her feet that Weaselblaze had caused an open wound. Quickly, she licked her paw and drew it over the gash, biting her tongue as it stung on contact. “I’ll be fine,” she replied curtly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. She could have sworn she saw a flash of worry in his captivating amber eyes, but he turned away before she could confirm it.
“That gash doesn’t look fine, it’s pretty deep,” Whisperheart huffed, guiding the warrior apprentice down a gap between two looming Twoleg dens.
“I’m fine,” Larkpaw repeated with a sharp hiss, “Why do you care so much anyways? You fox-hearted mange-pelts stole two helpless kits! What’s a harmless scratch on a worthless Clan cat?”
“I’m sorry,” Whisperheart flattened his ears and looked away with hurt in his eyes, “You weren’t apart of the plan.”
“But two kits were? I knew rogues were nothing better than scrawny crow-food eating heartless strays,” Larkpaw snarled. Her blood boiled with rage, her claws clicking against the hard stone underneath her paws. She had never been in the Twolegplace before, and for good reason. Not only was it forbidden, but the giant dangerous maze of Twoleg dens, dogs that roamed the streets and the plethora of kittypets and strays.
“I know, an act of cowards,” Whisperheart admitted much to Larkpaw’s utter shock. She was at a loss for words, never expecting to hear a rogue actually confess something as pathetic as a coward.
“What is your name?” He asked, trying to break through the awkward silence.
“Larkpaw,” she reluctantly grumbled.
“Well, Larkpaw. My name is Whisperheart. I’m impressed how you stood your ground against Weaselblaze. She’s a wiley little cat, it’s hard to lay a claw on her,” he meowed gently.
Her pelt prickled at the unexpected compliment, ignoring the burning in her chest. Dread consumed her entire body as she realized with a horrible shock that she may never see her brother again. Something on her face must have given away to her turmoil because the young tom lightly touched his tail to her shoulder. She jerked away from him, making sure there was more than a tail-length between them.
Whisperheart’s voice was deep with genuine sympathy, “If I had it my way, I would turn around and let you run home. But my father would have my pelt, so the next best option is for me to protect you from him.”
“I don’t need a fox-hearted rogue to look after me. I’m a trained warrior and compared to a mangy group of heartless fleabags, it’s as easy as hunting a leaf,” Larkpaw snarled, ears flat against her head. She wanted to sink her claws into the soft dirt, but there was hard black soil that her claws uncomfortably scraped against.
“Oh I have no doubt you can hold your own in a fight, but my father…” Whisperheart glanced away, but not before she saw fear flash in his eyes.
“I have half a mind to run off, but I know well enough that I won’t make it back to IceClan before you find me,” Larkpaw narrowed her eyes, “and then I’m sure I’ll be punished, or killed.” There was also stinging pain from her wounds that would slow her down and make it easy for them to find her if she was tracking blood all over the place.
“I’m not going to say your right, but I’m not going to say you’re wrong either,” Whisperheart responded absently, glancing across the wide black path for monsters. “And the only way for you to heal your wounds is to beg a Twoleg.”
She completely lost interest in continuing their conversation, her chest tight with grief and anger. Darkpaw was the only cat she had and knowing that they wouldn’t receive their warrior names together hurt. The fact that she may never see him again… Larkpaw shook her head, keeping her gaze at her paws.
Larkpaw and Whisperheart sulked in eerie silence through the alleyway, taking the occasional turn and constantly crossing small Thunderpaths. Tracking had never been her specialty, Larkpaw wasn’t sure if she even would be able to find her way back to the forest when she escaped.
Eventually she would find her way back to IceClan, but she had to be smart about it. Once she gained their trust enough, she would have to find an ally to bring the kits back with her. Maybe a kittypet would take pity, or a loner. She wanted to take note of her surrounds in an effort to start building a landscape in her mind so that she can start mapping out possible routes back to the forest.
Across the biggest Thunderpath yet lay a miniature forest within stench of smog and trash. A wide silver tendril acted as a border between the pathway lining the wooded area, further down the horizon than she could see. ‘Why is there a small forest within a Twolegplace?’ Larkpaw wondered to herself, eyes wide with bewilderment.
“Come on, we’re almost there,” Whisperheart stepped a little too close for comfort. Larkpaw flinched, stepping away from the long furred ginger tom. He sighed heavily and looked both ways, waiting for a small monster to roll by. She hated being this close to the steel beasts, it was unnatural.
“Even the monsters stupid enough to awake at this hour, who know?” Larkpaw mumbled under breathe, trotting after the rogue once he was sure the black path was clear. How could a rogue group live in such a horrible place? It was so unnatural.
The combined stench of rogue hit her nose as they neared what she assumed was their territory. Whisperheart stopped short of the fence, jerking his head up to the physical fence, “Over you go.”
Larkpaw backed away a couple of steps before taking a running leap at the fence, her back paws kicking the hard stick that supported the silver tendril barrier as pain shot throughflank. She managed to land on her feet, uncomfortably twisting her back in the process. “Mouse-dung,” she hissed, “I’m going to feel that for a couple of days.”
“Are you okay?” The worry in his voice was authentic, this rogue was unlike any other she had encountered before. Pushing that thought aside, Larkpaw nodded her response.
She was amazed that there was essentially a miniature forest within the Twolegplace, accompanied by strange structures courtesy of the hairless creatures. Leaves still clung to some of the trees, but the brush was lush and well kept. Larkpaw’s belly rumbled with hunger, the last time she had something to eat before the herb gathering patrol. Eventually, they came upon a long abandoned Twoleg den, the wood was rotten and even in the pale light she could tell it was hardly standing. But they didn’t go in, instead, Whisperheart trotted behind the den. Behind the den was a pile of rubble and another, smaller den made out of thin shiny slabs that were hardly bigger than the warriors den. Surrounding the camp was more of the silver tendrils, except that it was covered in creeping ivy.
The tom that had scolded Whisperheart for allowing her to follow them was sitting at the top of the smaller den, looking down at them. Larkpaw’s jaw almost dropped at the sheer number of rogues gathered, it was almost the same number of cats in IceClan. She had never heard tales of a pack of cats in the Twolegplaces, not even the elders had any stories. Who were these cats?
There was a sense of unity in the way they moved reminded her of home. The camp, however, was drastically different though. The tendril acted as a protective border around the camp on three sides, with the rotten wooden den serving as the final wall. The shiny smaller den was about a third of the size as the wooden den. There was a fairly sized structure that was about the size of two badgers tucked away underneath a willow tree, although it was unlike anything she had seen before.
She glanced wildly around the clearing for the missing kits, instead she saw the two muscular cats surrounded by a patrol of rogues. She had to assume they were warriors, their ears were flat and clearly hostile with lashing tails and fluffed up pelts. Whisperheart didn’t force her to go with the other hostages, instead signaled for her to sit next to him at the center. She puffed up her fur to appear bigger and more threatening, although that only encouraging the curious stares.
“We’ve had a successful night, my cats of the park. StarClan has guided my paws to this moment, we are on the path to becoming a Clan accepted by the other three now that we have more warrior blood within our ranks,” his dark gaze spanned the entire group of cats, glistening with pride.
“Our raids didn’t exactly go as planned… We don’t have as much young blood as I intended, my party got three kits from EarthClan. We do have a new apprentice, Eaglepaw, originally from FireClan. Along with FireClan, I welcome warriors Ripplestreak and Breezebeck to join our ranks,” his words were only met with hostile stares from the three bristling cats.
“My son successfully brought us two IceClan kits and an apprentice,” the golden tom stared down at with contempt, “Welcome. What is your name, little one?”
She met his gaze with challenge in her eyes, “Why does it matter, rogue? Who do you think you are, stealing Clan cats in the dead of night under the name of our ancestors?” Larkpaw spat, her words seething with hatred. Whisperheart’s eyes widened with horror, as if he expected for the tom to leap down and claw off her pelt. But he didn’t, but his body tensed up as he paced the ledge. The slight twitch in his tail betrayed that he was upset at her words as he calmly responded, “Well, unnamed apprentice, I am Birchstar. These cats around you are your new Clanmates, the warriors of SoulClan.”
“SoulClan?” Larkpaw found herself purring in amusement, “What kind of mouse-brained Clan name is that? How dare you add ‘star’ to your name! That name is only for StarClan blessed leaders!”
“You certainly do have a warrior’s spirit,” Birchstar rumbled, extremely close to a growl, “SoulClan is blessed by StarClan, I am a proper Clan leader with nine lives.”
“Than who come I’ve never heard of you? None of the cats in IceClan have spoken of a Birchstar or SoulClan?” She inquired, genuinely curious in his interest. This rogue was delusional if he actually believed that a cat outside of the clans was able to get nine lives. Larkpaw had no doubt that he was lying, there was no possible way a random rogue had the full nine lives of a leader. But there was no way to prove it.
“We are a new Clan, I was told a prophecy by StarClan that drove me to gather noble and powerful rogues and loners throughout the Twolegplace. Cats that never would have the chance to reach their warrior potential due to prejudices in your Clans. Your medicine cats and leaders have received the same prophecy, they just haven’t deciphered it. I ask again, what is your name?” His meow was almost a growl at this point.
“Larkpaw,” Whisperheart answered for her, assuming correctly that she had no intention of giving Birchstar her name.
“Well, Larkpaw, it is a pleasure to welcome you to SoulClan. Whisperheart will be your mentor. He will be able to keep a close eye on you to ensure you won’t cause us any trouble,” he added with a hint of threat glistening in his eyes. Of course Birchstar would make his son her mentor, who better to watch over her then the son of a tyrant.
“What could you do to possibly stop us? How can a couple of rogues with no training stop a trained warrior from escaping?” Larkpaw lifted her chin to Birchstar.
“Next time we raid IceClan, maybe we leave a couple bodies behind,” the wiry yellow tom replied simply, as if her clanmates were nothing more than scraps of crow-food. The lack of care in her voice was unsettling, he would no doubt go through with this threat if any of the abducted clan cats attempted to run.
Larkpaw didn’t respond, she was at a complete loss for words. Afterall, what could she say to summarize the dreadful hopelessness that drained all the energy from her limbs.
“Now that one rude apprentice is done interrupting, I will continue. SoulClan has a long way to go before we introduce ourselves to FireClan, IceClan, and EarthClan. I plan to make our appearance at the Gathering in three moons. I hope that our new members will feel more comfortable with their new home in time. I know will not be a true clan until we get a medicine cat, but not even I will steal one of StarClan’s chosen. ” How did he know so much about Clan life? Maybe the Clan’s had a spy amongst their midsts… or Birchstar really did communicate with StarClan?
Birchstar went on to assign other cats a mentor to learn SoulClan’s way of life. Ripplestreak was to ‘guided’ by a quiet red tom with white feet named Jayfoot. His Clanmate, Breezebeck, would be accompanied by a fluffy light gray tom, Cloudwhisker. Eaglepaw, the former FireClan apprentice, was to be mentored by a muscular black tom with a single stripe that stretched from his nose to his tail, appropriately named Skunkshadow.
He dismissed the cats with another warning to the Clan cats about leaving, they would only cause destruction and death if they were to return. Whisperheart led her inside the silver den and left her to talk to his father.
“There will be two guards outside the entrance,” he warned when the other Clan cats joined Larkpaw. “For your own sake, don’t try anything mouse-brained.”
“Who does he think he is, trying to act concerned!” The temperamental gray tabby tom, Breezebeck, snorted when he was out of ear shot.
“Maybe he does, I refuse to believe every cat here is bad. Living as a Clancat is a privilege, I can’t blame them for wanting to establish their own safe colony,” Ripplestreak meowed evenly, leading the small group into the silver den.
Larkpaw almost choked on the sharp intake of air when she saw the two missing IceClan kits. She was briefly distracted by Ripplestreak letting out a loud gasp of excitement at the sight of a long furred gray dappled she-cat.
“Ashpaw!” One of the FireClan warriors, Ripplestreak, bounded over to a heavily pregnant she-cat that was sleeping in the corner. Sleeping close to her belly where the three newborn EarthClan kits.
Her head shot up, eyes wide at the recognition of the name, “Ripplepaw!” She blinked the sleep out of her eyes as the dark tabby tom pressed his nose to hers with relief, “We thought you were dead.”
“It’s Ashdapple now,” she licked her chest, “I have some explaining to do, I guess. I ran away from FireClan with a rogue the night before my warrior ceremony. You saw how Archstar treated me. She wanted nothing to do with me, I didn’t belong in FireClan and she knew it. She hated my kittypet blood, even if she was the one to give birth to me. Whitestag and I were really struggling on the streets of the Twolegplace, a terrible dog had just stolen our prey when Birchstar found us…”
Larkpaw turned her head to the gray-white queen, realizing with burning ears that it was not her business what Ashdapple had to go through to be here. Of course she wanted to know why there was a former warrior in this sham of a Clan, but her concern right now was the kits. A seed of doubt was placed in the back of her head, maybe SoulClan aren’t entirely evil?
“Hello there,” the queen meowed kindly at her, sympathy swimming in her green gaze. “Your scent is almost identical to theirs, I assume they’re from your clan?”
“Yes,” she breathed a heavy sigh of relief that she was friendly. “The silver kit is Wrenkit, and the smaller gray and orange kit is Canarykit.” The two IceClan kits were happily suckling away next to a large bundle of orange fluff.
“What wonderful names,” she purred softly, giving each kit a comforting lick on the head. “My name is Leafsky, and this,” the gentle queen nosed the bright ginger kit, “Is my daughter Blazekit.”
“My name is Larkpaw, it’s nice to meet you. I am so happy to see that Canarykit and Wrenkit are with a capable queen, I was worried that they would force them to eat crow-food,” she sat next to Leafsky, curling her feathery gray tabby tail around her paws.
“The cats of SoulClan aren’t all that bad,” Leafsky meowed, glancing at the partially eaten crow at her paws, “They may be a tad unfriendly, and reluctant, but they weren’t born together. Living as one is definitely hard for some of these cats that prefer to live alone. Birchstar has good intention, he accepted me when my Twolegs abandoned me. I had never hunted before, let alone nurse a litter. This isn’t the most ideal situation for you Clan cats to be in, I understand that, but give them a chance.”
“It’s not like we have much of a choice,” Larkpaw grumbled. Her eyelids were heavy, and her limbs were starting to ache with exhaustion.
“Come over here so I can clean your wounds before they get infected,” Leafsky beckoned with her tail for Larkpaw to lay next to her.
“Thank you,” Larkpaw meowed, choosing to curl up next to Leafsky’s nest. She was grateful for the little kindness the queen, and Whisperheart, had shown to her. Maybe life in SoulClan wouldn’t be bad, it could be tolerable until she found her way back to IceClan.
She expected to be greeted with a fitful sleep, but with Leafsky rhythmically grooming her wounds, she dozed off almost immediately. But her dreams were not free from fear, her eyes opened up to a bloodsoaked forest, the stench of fear and death filled her mouth and nose.
Horrified, Larkpaw sped through the forest, her paws guiding her to IceClan’s camp. It was barely recognizable, every single den was destroyed and bodies scattered throughout the clearing. Yowls of terror sounded from behind her and she turned to see her brother struggling to bleed. A fatal slash at his throat marked his death, a cat was standing triumphantly over his body, familiar yellow eyes wild with bloodlust.
He leaped at her at the same moment a blinding light took over, the world went white. No longer was death and destruction soaked the forest, but Larkpaw was completely alone in a star dusted field. She cautiously stepped around the moorland, worried that the psychotic tom was lurking out of sight. A dreadful feeling of isolation filled her chest to the point where Larkpaw found it impossible to breathe.
Wind rushed over the empty star-land, sounding almost like a voice over the rustling of the grass. Listening closely, it actually sounded… like a she-cat. In a flash, she was thrust into the chaotic forest once more, now at the foot of a looming tree. It’s shadow grew alongside it’s height until the forest below was nothing more than the darkness. No longer was the moon visible behind it, the forest grew cold and empty.
‘Struggling against the growing birch, a lark will struggle to climb to the top. Rumors whisper about, hearts torn between two worlds,’ a voice murmured in her ears. Larkpaw jumped around, her fur standing on end only to see that she was now surrounded by rolling hills of ash.
A shape formed, struggling to break free of the gray powder on the crest of the moorland, the sun rising behind it. Wind rippled across the moor, freeing the figure of the ash coat. She was expecting to see a cat rise from the ashes, but instead it was a massive bird broke free, spreading its wings with the sun on its back. ‘Find the cat reborn from fire,’ the whisper echoed in her ears. Larkpaw blinked, opening her eyes to the dimly lit den. Her pelt was burning, she could hardly breathe as she tried to wrap her brain around her unusual dream. If she knew any better, she would say that she just had a dream from StarClan. But there were no cats with stars in their fur, just weird whispers and visions that could have been caused by fear.
One thing was for certain, Larkpaw was stuck in SoulClan for better or for worse. She may have StarClan on her side. The voice wanted her to find a cat reborn from fire, whatever that could possibly mean she had no clue, she didn’t have the skills of a medicine cat. She hadn’t the slightest idea how to decipher the dream, if it was more than a nightmare.
The heavy feeling of foreboding warned her that Birchstar only meant trouble for the Clans.
Chapter Two “Darkfrost! Darkfrost!” Cheerful yowls filled the morning sky. Gorsestar warmly looked down on a young tom with thick tabby fur, the young tom didn’t seem all too excited about his warrior name, but mad.
“Larkpaw should be here with me,” he growled, loud enough for every cat to hear.
Redpaw sighed, her chest tightening with grief. Talonshadow had Darkfrost had returned with brutal wounds without Larkpaw. Gorsestar had sent out a patrol to track her scent, but they lost it amongst the overwhelming stench of monsters and Twolegs.
Darkfrost had been confined to the medicine cat den for the past couple days, unable to search for his lost sister. Each sunrise that passed made the tabby tom angry and spiteful. In an effort to soothe his aching heart, Gorsestar decided to grant him his warrior name.
“I agree, but I can’t keep sending patrols out. The Twolegplace is too dangerous and we don’t know how to navigate it,” Gorsestar reluctantly shook his head, “I am truly sorry, but it’s up to Larkpaw to come home on her own.”
‘If she’s even alive,’ Redpaw thought, remembering the brutal wounds that all the cats had suffered from the claws of the rogues. They killed Sharpclaw, Silverpaw was still recovering from his wounds. Darkfrost himself came back with a shredded ear, a slash across his eye that intended to blind him, and a gnarly scratch on his belly. Only StarClan knew Larkpaw’s fate at the paws of these murderous rogues.
Darkfrost shared her concern and lifted his muzzle up to Gorsestar, “You’ve guaranteed her death by giving up so soon.”
“I have to hope that by kidnapping Brightstorm’s kits and Larkpaw, there had to be a reason. I have to believe they aren’t going to kill them,” Something stirred in his gaze that she couldn’t decipher, Redpaw passed it off of grief for losing three young cats in one raid.
“I think Gorsestar is right, these rogues are kidnapping cats for a reason,” Shineeyes stepped forward. He waited for Gorsestar to give permission before he continued speaking, “I ran into Pigeonfoot and Raggedheart at the FireClan border. The same night they raided IceClan, three FireClan cats disappeared.”
“Three?” Talonshadow gasped, eyes wide with surprise.
“Two warriors and an apprentice,” Graydew confirmed.
“Great StarClan…” Willowcreek murmured in dismay, “What is going on?”
“I will ask Archstar and Thornstar tonight at the Gathering if they know anything. This is unheard of… Rogues attack and steal prey every now and then, but this? What kind of fox-heart steals kits?” Gorsestar sighed, curling his tail around his paws.
“Or is stupid enough to attack the clans? The more concerning thing is how did they successfully pulled this off, they knew most of us would be asleep. They knew how our camps were set up, they have to have spies amongst us!” Darkfrost spat, glaring around at his Clanmates. His worry for his sister was driving him crazy.
Redpaw got to her paws, deciding that it would be better to take the fuming tom away from the conversation. “Come on, I need to clean out your wounds and put a fresh poultice on your wounds,” she stood firm until Darkfrost reluctantly agreed. He shot an angry glare at Gorsestar before following her into the medicine cat hollow.
“I like your warrior name,” Redpaw commented as she nosed through the herb store. She worried, with all these attacks, they were going through their stash very quickly. They would have to search outside their territory for herbs if they had any hope of making it through the winter.
“Larkpaw should have been beside me,” he huffed, wincing as Redpaw carefully licked away the old poultice from the slash across his eye.
“Well you better be careful and let me treat you if you want to sneak off to the Twolegplace to look for her,” she replied, taking a stem and started to chew it. “Or else you’ll never be leader with one eye.”
“I would never disobey my leader,” Darkfrost feigned surprise, taking a large paw to his chest and looked at her with wide eyes. “And just so you know, I would be a fantastic leader even with one eye.”
“Sure, and I’m an owl,” Redpaw replied after carefully applying the herb mix. His eye would be fine, while the wound was deep it didn’t touch his eye.
“I have a bad feeling about this, have you heard anything from StarClan?” Darkfrost asked as Redpaw parted his long fur to clean out the wound on his belly. “If you can tell me, obviously you don’t have to.”
“No,” she closely examined the cut, happy to see that it was healing nicely, “Honestly. Neither Willowcreek or I have heard anything. Maybe Crowheart or Robinstream has but I’m not sure. I have half a mind to sneak off to the Crystal Cave to reach out to StarClan.” But it was unusual for a medicine cat apprentice to seek guidance on her own, she would just have to wait until half-moon. “I wish I could go to the Gathering tonight so I could see what the other leaders say, but Gorsestar will never allow me to journey to the Isle,” Darkfrost sighed.
“I’ll let him know that you have my permission as long as you take it easy, you aren’t ready for the stress of hunting though,” Redpaw meowed cheerfully, hoping to cheer him up.
“Really?” His ears pricked in excitement. Looks like it worked.
“This is your first Gathering as a warrior, so you should be allowed to go,” she shrugged, applying more of her poultice to his belly.
“Thank you, Redpaw. Really. I know Willowcreek has her paws full with Silverpaw,” he glanced worriedly at the young apprentice asleep a couple of tail-lengths away. He had taken a turn for the worse overnight and was now fighting a fever.
“The cool weather should help soothe his fever, but I’m afraid that we may run out of herbs before leaf-bare even begins,” she admitted, her meow softening as the striped tom stirred.
“Well, if Gorsestar will allow it, I can gather herbs with you and Willowcreek,” Darkfrost offered. Redpaw blinked in surprise, how could this be the same grouchy tom from a couple sunrises ago that pitched a fit for the very task he asked to help with.
“Thank you, maybe in a couple of days we can go out. Why don’t you get a bit of rest? Especially if you end up going to the Gathering tonight?” Redpaw requested gently, taking another quick look at his wounds to make sure they were covered in the fresh herb mixture.
“Fine,” Darkfrost winced as he stepped into his nest, curling into a giant fluffy ball of dark tabby fur, his white paws becoming the only distinguishable feature against the bracken-moss nest. “I can’t wait until I can feel the forest floor against my paws again,” he mumbled through his fur.
She left him to sleep, quickly checked on Silverpaw, worry tugged at her tail as she felt heat wafting from his ears. She would have to borrow an apprentice in moment to get some moist moss after she cleaned his scratches. If they couldn’t break this fever soon than the rogues would have another body count.
A dozen cats slipped through the undergrowth as the moon climbed to its peak. The frosty dew was nipping at her paws, the trees clacking together as a gale of wind rattled through the forests.
Talonshadow waited at the opening of the tree bridge, waiting until every last IceClan cat had crossed onto the Isle before falling into step behind her and Darkfrost.
“How are you feeling?” he quietly asked his former apprentice, affection brimming his yellow gaze.
“I’ve been better, but it would take an entire pack of dogs to stop me from attending this Gathering,” Darkfrost grumbled, his meow was not without a tiny bit of excitement. They briefly touched noses before he bounded off to where the other deputies were chatting at the base of the Split Stone.
“Does it feel any different?” Redpaw inquired, glancing around nervously at the massive collection of cats.
“Yes, and no. Having my warrior name feels good, but without Larkpaw…” he sighed, eyes falling to his paws, “I feel like I’m missing such a huge part of me.”
“It’s hard you don’t have any kin left, but you have a friend in me. Talonshadow will always have your back, and Mallowpool,” Redpaw purposefully name dropped the mottled brown she-cat. She had visited Darkfrost frequently during his time under her care, but he didn’t exactly seem to enjoy the attention.
She had struck a nerve. He nosed her playfully, fluffing out his fur as he growled lightly, “By StarClan’s name, Redpaw. I can’t enjoy my time away from camp without you bringing her up?”
“But Darkfrost! Now that you’re a warrior, don’t you want a mate and kits?” Redpaw teased, ignoring the flicker of sadness in her chest. She never desired to have a family, kits were never something she wanted. That didn’t mean she didn’t want love.
“Ha! I’ll save that mushy stuff for other cats. I want to be leader, I don’t need the distraction of she-cats,” Darkfrost declared. He stared up at the massive stone jutting out of the sandy island, ambition bursting in his gaze.
“Leaders are allowed to take mates you know,” Redpaw pointed out, relieved that Mallowpool wasn’t here to hear this. Not that Darkfrost had shown any interest in her, but there was a way to turn a cat down and this certainly was not it.
“I know, but Gorsestar doesn’t have a mate and he’s a noble leader,” Darkfrost pointed out, following Redpaw’s lead through the cluster of cats.
“Archstar does, as does Thornstar,” she meowed, jerking her muzzle to where the leaders stood by their mates, Tawnysky and Coalthunder. “And by my judgement, they’re fine leaders. We haven’t had any major battle in moons.”
“Other leaders can do as they please, but mates are a distraction. Of course we need cats to fall for each other, we have to have new blood somehow,” Darkfrost shrugged, sitting down under a thick clump of ferns.
Not that it was any of her business, but every cat should have a chance to experience love. It shouldn’t be taken lightly, “Caring for another cat is not a distraction. By that argument, having kin is a distraction. You just haven’t met the right cat.” Her tone was purposefully vague as Thornstar and Coalthunder affectionately nuzzled each other.
Darkfrost watched as the tuxedo leader gave his mate a loving lick before joining Archstar and Gorsestar on top of the Split Stone. “It’s not about she-cats or toms, it’s about focus. I will stop and smell the roses once I establish myself as a strong and compassionate leader.”
“Redpaw!” A pale brown tom trotted over to where she and Darkfrost sat.
“Hello there, Hollowpaw,” she dipped her head to the FireClan medicine cat apprentice.
“Still no medicine cat name yet?” He meant well, but she couldn’t help but feel a stab of annoyance. She had given up that hope moons ago. Of course medicine cat names were special and had to be earned, her training never truly did end until Willowcreek retired. Hollowpaw was a new apprentice, having only started two moon cycles ago under Robinstream’s guidance.
“Unfortunately not,” Redpaw sighed, flicking her tail. “I’ve lost hope, really.”
“You’ll get this eventually! Who's your friend?” He sniffed at Darkfrost, who loomed over him like a badger.
“Why did Willowcreek allow for an injured cat to leave camp? How did you get injured?”
“Rogues,” Darkfrost’s eyes gleamed with mischief, “These are nothing, you should see the other cats.”
“Woah!” Hollowpaw gapped, practically begging for the story.
“Cats of the Clans, gather below the Split Stone!” Archstar yowled, effectively getting every cats attention. Hollowpaw sat down next to Darkfrost, almost bouncing with questions for the warrior.
Willowcreek, Crowheart and Robinstream had taken their places next to their leaders. Respectively, the deputies as well sat at the base of the stone as they awaited for their leaders to share news.
“Finally, I thought I my fur was going to freeze off,” an EarthClan she-cat, Swanfur, scoffed. Spidernose muttered something in agreement, attracting the stern stare from Gorsestar.
Archstar went on to announce a couple of new apprenticeships and a new litter, lightly bragging at how well prey was running. Redpaw did have to acknowledge how Hollowpaw had a little bit of weight to him, as did most of the FireClan cats. However, they had the junkyard to hunt on, providing a plethora of rats even in the harshest weather. What she didn’t mention though was the loss of her warriors at the paws of rogues.
Gorsestar didn’t say anything, he remained expressionless as he waited for his turn. Thornstar was next, he kept his news short and sweet. It wasn’t just the warriors that grew cold in the brisk weather, even the leaders were eager to escape the cold.
“EarthClan has had a number of challenges for the coming leaf-bare, but I have no doubt that my Clan will survive,” Thornstar ended his report. He stepped back for Gorsestar to make his announcements.
“IceClan has had our share of trouble these past couple sunrises,” Gorsestar started off saying, his gaze skimming across the cats below. “First off, I would like to congratulate a new warrior on earning his warrior name. Darkfrost.”
The tabby tom bristled uncomfortably as all the Clancats cheered his new name. His body stiffened as the attention briefly turned to him. She rested her tail on his shoulder, knowing that it was taking all of his restraint not to mention his sister.
“I’m sure you have noticed that Sharpclaw is not here. I am sorry to report that he, along with three other of my warriors, have been attacked my rogues. Darkfrost earned his warrior name in an effort to retrieve three young cats that were stolen from my camp in the middle of the night.”
The entire island succumbed to a hushed silence, not a single cat even moved. She glanced at Hollowpaw, who had finally quieted down at Gorsestar’s bold announcement.
“Two kits, Wrenkit and Canarykit were stolen right under our noses. An apprentice tried to follow the rogues but never returned, her scent lost to the Twolegplace,” Gorsestar finished with his gaze calmly flickering from Archstar to Thornstar.
“Bold move, openly admitting that we were robbed in our own camp,” Darkfrost whispered in her ear.
“Well Archstar isn’t going to openly admit anything that could weaken her Clan,” she responded quietly.
Long moments passed until one of the leaders finally stood next to Gorsestar. Thornstar’s eyes were dark with grief as he addressed the gathered cats, “We lost thee newborn kits a couple days ago. My warriors chased them up to the outskirts of the Twolegplace, but couldn’t navigate the stone maze. You can understand why I didn’t want to say this to all the Clans, we are still grieving.”
Gorsestar dipped his head in respect, “Of course, as are we. It is a terrible thing that we lost such young cats that hadn’t had their chance to fulfill their warrior potential.”
“He is making it sound like they’re dead!” Darkfrost hissed, digging his claws into the sandy soil. The IceClan leader turned attention to Archstar. He knew that FireClan had lost cats as well, but giving Archstar a chance to confess.
She caved under the intense stare of Gorsestar and the curious eyes from Thornstar, “Two warriors and an apprentice disappeared five nights ago. There was heavy rogue scent by our IceClan border. They left the two kits they had initially taken at the border, alive.”
“I don’t think they are going to kill our cats, what would they gain from that? No, there has to be a reason, no cat is cruel enough to kill kits,” Thornstar meowed thoughtfully.
“May I speak?” Redpaw looked next to her to see that Darkfrost had stood up.
A harsh hush spread across the cluster of cats, followed by a rush of whispers. Warriors were almost never permitted to speak openly like this.
Gorsestar didn’t even seem surprised, he blinked calmly as Archstar glared down at the tabby tom, “And who do you think you are, young one?”
Thornstar sat back, amusement flickering in his eyes as he patiently awaited his answer.
“I am Darkfrost, my sister was stolen by these rogues. These wounds I bare is a result from the formidable rogue I battled, I merely want to tell what I experienced,” he dipped his head respectfully to the leaders above.
“Gorsestar, do you allow your warrior to speak?” Thornstar asked evenly before Archstar could fire back.
“He has my permission,” he replied, loud enough for all the cats to hear, “Darkfrost, please. Join us up here.”
The dark warrior clearly hadn’t been expecting that sort of invitation, not even the deputies were permitted to stand on the Split Stone, let alone a fresh warrior. This was an honor so few cats could brag about. The mood turned resentful, mostly out of jealousy than actual anger. Pelts bristled as he took the leap, effortlessly landing on the stone outcropping. Such a distance would make even a grown cat as herself need help to climb, it was nearly as tall as four fox-lengths.
Redpaw smiled to herself, looking up at Darkfrost standing with the other leaders… It looked like he belonged up there. Maybe someday he would.
“Go on,” Gorsestar touched his tail to the young warrior’s shoulder for encouragement.
Darkfrost’s eyes met hers, bright with both fear and pride. He took a deep breath before meowing, “Talonshadow and I ran after the rogues, my sister in the lead. She is smaller and swifter, much more capable of tracking them then two limbering toms. Suddenly, there was a patrol flanking three toms. In hindsight, I believe it must be your warriors,” he meowed to Archstar. She held her tongue and flicked her tail for him to continue. “Trailing behind were two cats. I took the smaller tom, Talonshadow would attack the larger she-cat. We had to do something, there wasn’t enough time to get another patrol. I expected an easy fight, I was far larger and this was just a normal rogue. I expected all the usual tricks, but instead I was met with furious skill. True, I underestimated my opponent and I have the marks to prove it. But he was smart, nimble and precise. He knew just how to sip through my claws, he had the strategy of a warrior,” Darkfrost explained, his fur tips glowing white in the bright moonlight. StarClan had not silenced him, they wanted them all to hear his encounter with the rogues.
“He’s right, Gorsestar. Now that I think about it, they fought with the skills of an apprentice. Knowledgeable but room for improvement,” Talonshadow added in agreement.
“Interesting,” Archstar commented simply, her eyes shadowed with thought.
“They’re taking our warriors for their own needs, their own Clan?” Gorsestar pondered out loud.
“I have to believe for my sister’s sake that they are not to hurt them. Larkpaw is all I have, I would fight to my last breath it would be to bring her back, as I hope you would all do for your Clanmates,” Darkfrost growled.
“And we will find them again, but we must not act without StarClan’s guidance,” Thornstar replied respectfully, “I understand your eagerness Darkfrost, but lives will be lost if we rush our attack against the rogues without thinking.”
“Indeed, I want to find our missing cats but now is the wrong time. Our herb stash is low from the attack, and going into war with leaf-bare around the corner is a bad idea,” Crowheart spoke now, her confident voice echoing loud in the quiet night.
With a low growl, Darkfrost dismissed himself, once again sitting down next to Redpaw. She felt the energy around him in the air, he proudly shook himself and lifted his muzzle to the Split Stone.
“Great job,” she murmured. He certainly attracted his fair share of glares though, even IceClan cats were casting nasty looks. It was a bold idea for him to speak out, other cats may not appreciate that ambition. Darkfrost flicked an ear but said nothing.
“Of course… It would make sense. The comforts and security of a Clan is unmatched, of course some low life rogues would want to replicate it. They stole capable warriors to teach, young kits for pure lineage,” Thornstar confirmed. He shifted his gaze to Crowheart, “Have you heard anything from StarClan? Any prophecy to warn us?”
She murmured something to Willowcreek and Robinstream before looking up to her leader and sorrowfully sighed, “No. Neither of us have heard anything, maybe when we go to the Crystal Cave in a half moon?”
“Why don’t you go early? All of you? These rogues leave a rotten taste in my mouth,” Gorsestar requested, turning his attention to the medicine cats. “Of course, if Thornstar and Archstar are okay with it.”
“I don’t see why not,” Thornstar agreed with a nod, “Archstar? Thoughts?”
She sat quietly for a couple heartbeats as Redpaw listened eagerly. The sooner they went, the better. A wave of relief lapped away her worry as Archstar reluctantly agreed.
“In five sunrises, you all will meet at the Crystal Cave. Does that sound good?” Gorsestar glanced at the medicine cat trio below him.
“We will be there,” Willowcreek agreed willingly.
Redpaw looked up to the sky, worry holding her heart as clouds drifted near the moon. She was terrified that turmoil would ensue if the clouds blocked out the light, but they didn’t, at least not yet. Besides, why would StarClan be mad that they were going to see their ancestors? It worried her at how quiet they were being, how was she supposed to turn to them for guidance when StarClan was silent?
“It is a cold night, finish up your conversations and meet your respective leaders,” Thornstar broke off the meeting by leaping off the Split Stone. The other leaders followed, heading off to where their warriors were gathered.
“I can’t believe Archstar allowed you to speak!” Hollowpaw gapped, “She looked like she was going to claw your pelt off!”
“That was unbelievable!” Darkfrost purred, ignoring the rude mutters from passing FireClan cats. “Maybe there still is a chance for me to get through to Gorsestar! Maybe he’ll let me look for Larkpaw by myself.”
“Maybe. You looked like you belong up there,” Redpaw complimented quietly. She didn’t want to give any cat the wrong idea, she simply thought Darkfrost had the potential to be a good leader.
“Someday you will too, I mean, when you get your full medicine cat name. That’s when you can sit with the others, right?” Darkfrost flexed his muscles as he stretched out his body to its entire length.
“Yes, Although only StarClan knows how long that will take,” Redpaw shrugged, it didn’t really bother her. The first couple moons were the hardest, she had a tough time matching sickness with treatments. Each moon after that, it became insufferable watching apprentice after apprentice gain their name. She knew medicine cat names were special, far more than any old warrior name, but it was growing tiresome to be called ‘Redpaw’ for countless moons to come.
“Come on you two, Gorsestar is ready to leave. You’re welcome to stay and freeze your paws off but I want to curl up a warm nest,” Talonshadow called as he bounded past.
“Yeah, he can say that, but I’m stuck on vigil for the rest of the night,” Darkfrost grumbled, flattening his ears in disdain, “Alone.”
“You’re thick fur should block out much of the wind and besides it’s not leaf-bare yet,” Redpaw replied, pushing through tall weeds. “See you Hollowpaw!” She meowed over her shoulder.
Most of the IceClan cats had gathered already by the base of the tree, anxious and impatient to get back to camp.
“To camp we go!” Gorsestar declared, leading the way through the tree trunk tunnel. Once more, Talonshadow took his place at the rear as Redpaw hurriedly followed Darkfrost. She was eager to talk to StarClan for the sake of their missing cats.
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