Post by *Ravenpaw* on Oct 27, 2019 23:00:46 GMT -5
Loud purring filled the air as Raggedraven turned a page of The Three Musketeers with her nose. The twoleg room was covered with soft bedding. Raggedraven had one that covered most of her body. She sat with her paws tucked close to her chest.
At first she thought it was odd that the afterlife was filled with twoleg nests. And she never imagined that she would be living with her clanmates - well, most of them. Spottedfur - now Spottedstar - had her generation of MountainClan to look after, just as Sparrowstar and the leaders that had gone before him looked after their own. Hawkflight and Fallenwillow had yet to join them. Oddly enough, Raggedraven didn't mind being so close to Sparrowstar. Many moons had passed since his insanity and big mistake, and the anger she felt toward him faded away enough that she could look at him in the eye.
A smell of something burning hit Raggedraven's nose. Instantly she was brought out of the story. She yowled and sprang to her paws. She was out of the room within seconds.
In the kitchen, she spotted Sparrowstar, who was coughing as he brought out small cakes from the oven. They looked like hockey pucks. They didn't even fall off the baking sheet as he tossed it onto the floor. Lots of smoke made their way out the window and into the cool night air.
Raggedraven stared at him, her pelt bristled in shock. Before she could say anything, Willowstep, a white she-cat, stalked toward them. She lifted her delicate nose and sniffed. Then she winced and licked her bristled fur.
"Have you lost your mind?" she asked in a stern, quiet voice. She sighed and shook her head. "I should have baked the cakes for the party. I wouldn't have been so careless."
Sparrowstar hissed. "Watch your tongue. I was doing just fine. I forgot to check them, that's all!"
Icekit ran under Willowstep's belly. "What's burning?" The white she-kit sniffed the cakes.
Sparrowstar gently moved her away. "It was a tiny mistake. Don't get to close."
"Let me help you," said Willowstep, pawing Icekit close to her. "I know how to use the oven."
Sparrowstar growled, insulted. "I know how to use it, too!"
Raggedraven couldn't help but turn away and stop herself from laughing. He doesn't.
"There's supposed to be a blood moon the night we visit," Sparrowstar went on. He jumped onto the chair and grabbed the smartphone. Then he jumped down and showed Willowstep the screen. "See? Do you know what this means?"
At the mention of "blood moon," the rest of the clan stopped putting up decorations and cleaning to run into the kitchen. They talked all at once.
"A blood moon? When?"
"What does this mean?"
"Will Onyx return for revenge?"
"Silence!" yowled Sparrowstar. He read the article for a few moments and said, "We're going to have to be careful. I don't know what will happen, but whatever it is, I know we'll be able to protect the living."
He was met with nods of agreement. Though no one said it, they all feared the worst.
From that point on, the blood moon remained on their minds.
As the dead cats left, Sparrowstar beckoned Thistlestorm with his tail. He whispered something into the tom's ear, and then let him go. Raggedraven was the only one with him now. He narrowed his eyes.
"Don't think I didn't see you trying not to laugh. Have you stayed to make fun of me, too?"
Raggedraven couldn't hold in her laughter anymore. "I'm sorry. You just look hilarious when you're mad." When she recovered, she said, "Do you mind if I join you making new cakes?"
Sparrowstar's ears twitched, and his tail thumped the floor many times. "Are you sure? You just finished decorating outside our twoleg den. You should be getting warm."
"I'm sure. It'll be hard to get back to reading my book, anyway."
After a few moments, he finally nodded. Together they threw out the burned cakes and gathered the ingredients for the fresh batch.
- - -
The half moon shone in the night sky. A golden tabby she-cat with a white chest ran to keep herself warm, but it didn't do much for. The air had been simply too cold lately. She could only find warmth in a few few places, and the den with the blue crystal was one of them.
When she was inside, she was greeted by warmer air. The crystal shone brightly where it stood for many generations. She remembered hearing stories about how the Clan of Everlasting Rest allowed Raggedraven, a MountainClan warrior from the past, spend some of her days in exile here. She purred as she let her nose touch touch the crystal.
Instantly she was in a clearing surrounded by beautiful trees of all kinds. In front of her was a ginger tom with white ears. He watched her with his blue eyes.
She blinked a few times. No, don't think about that! You didn't train an apprentice yet!
The tom moved closer to her. "Greetings, Mothshine." he purred.
"Hello." Her voice was quieter than she expected. "What new does the Clan of Everlasting Rest bring? If it's about the party, we're all ready. The camp is clean, and the fresh-kill pile is stocked high."
"I've come with a warning," said the tom. "There is supposed to be a blood moon when we visit. Be on the lookout. This could mean something terrible might happen."
"Better to be safe than sorry," Mothshine muttered to herself. To the tom, she said, "I'll inform the clan. Thank you."
The tom dipped his head. The dream ended before she could see his sparkling blue eyes again.
By the time the blood moon arrived, the party was the last thing on every cat's mind. There was no joy when Sparrowstar's MountainClan entered their old clearing, now occupied by their descendants. There was nothing but silence as Sparrowstar made his way over to a brown and white tabby she-cat and dipped his head. "Ravenstar."
The living leader dipped her head in return. "Sparrowstar. I appreciate that you sent someone to give us that warning. However, I don't see any danger."
"But I can feel it!" protested Mothshine. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her ears were flatten against her head. She turned to Thistlestorm. "You were right to be worried. Something isn't supposed to be here."
Raggedraven placed her box of small cakes onto the ground. "Like what? I can't sense anything."
Nettleheart brushed against her side. "That might be because you're legs are shaking." His whiskers twitched. Raggedraven playfully batted his ears.
"Enough of this talk!" said Hawkflight, stretching. "I'm ready for some fun. Have you brought the cakes?"
Raggedraven pushed her box over to him and opened it. "Look at them. Aren't they great?"
Hawkflight sniffed them and purred in approval. "They sure are. Who made them?"
"Sparrowstar and I made them."
She laughed as Hawkflight's look of interest turned to shock. Her laugh was cut short as the wind chilled her bones. She knew better than to expect to never experience that again. But she and her dead clanmates were allowed to use their bodies for this night. She brushed her fur against Nettleheart. Soon all cats, living and dead drew closer together, letting their pelts touch. The food was quickly forgotten. Every cat winced and gasped in fright as maniacal laughter filled the air.
Raggedraven felt like feinting. She thought she would never have to hear that sound again, but here it was, all around her. And not even being close to anyone make the feeling go away. She raised her eyes to the sky. There was little strength in her body. All she could do was star at the moon.
It have been a full moon, she thought. Not this!
The cats were so close together that there was hardly any room to breathe. But no one protested. The earth started shaking, and they yowled in fear. It was almost enough to make an animal deaf.
The brambles that surrounded the camp were clawed aside. A very familiar face appeared near Ravenstar's den. The tom was gray and his eyes were amber - or were amber. Now there was nothing in the eye sockets but blood. Most of his fur was gone, and his skin deteriorated each step he took.
Is this a dream? Let me wake up! Raggedraven cried in her mind. Some of the cats managed to recover from fright and hissed at the dead that followed what was left of Onyx.
"Why is he like this?" cried Raggedraven. "I thought . . ."
Onyx and his cats sprang at them with their broken claws out. Mothshine ran to her den, her tail in between her legs. But moments later, she stuck her head out to watch.
Mudflight, Willowstep, and Barkpelt sprang into action, though they didn't need to use much of their skills. At each clawing, blood spilled out from their enemies. The stench it gave off was horrible, and they had to stand back and breathe.
Nettleheart and Brooklight raced over to Mothshine. They stood close in case any enemies came near.
Raggedraven finally shook herself and joined Sparrowstar, Palelight, and Pebblefur take on Onyx and two massive tabby toms who were also familiar. Their bodies soon were in pieces, giving off the same horrible scent. Around them were the rest of the MountainClan cats fighting each new dead enemy who ran into camp.
The fight lasted for hours, and not a single cat was left without at least one scratch. The bodies of the dead - now dead again - were in many different piles around camp. And the blood moon was replaced by the sun.
Sparrowstar recoiled as he sniffed the air. He shook his head. "That cat never learns to not come back."
And then his cats returned to the Clan of Everlasting Rest.
At first she thought it was odd that the afterlife was filled with twoleg nests. And she never imagined that she would be living with her clanmates - well, most of them. Spottedfur - now Spottedstar - had her generation of MountainClan to look after, just as Sparrowstar and the leaders that had gone before him looked after their own. Hawkflight and Fallenwillow had yet to join them. Oddly enough, Raggedraven didn't mind being so close to Sparrowstar. Many moons had passed since his insanity and big mistake, and the anger she felt toward him faded away enough that she could look at him in the eye.
A smell of something burning hit Raggedraven's nose. Instantly she was brought out of the story. She yowled and sprang to her paws. She was out of the room within seconds.
In the kitchen, she spotted Sparrowstar, who was coughing as he brought out small cakes from the oven. They looked like hockey pucks. They didn't even fall off the baking sheet as he tossed it onto the floor. Lots of smoke made their way out the window and into the cool night air.
Raggedraven stared at him, her pelt bristled in shock. Before she could say anything, Willowstep, a white she-cat, stalked toward them. She lifted her delicate nose and sniffed. Then she winced and licked her bristled fur.
"Have you lost your mind?" she asked in a stern, quiet voice. She sighed and shook her head. "I should have baked the cakes for the party. I wouldn't have been so careless."
Sparrowstar hissed. "Watch your tongue. I was doing just fine. I forgot to check them, that's all!"
Icekit ran under Willowstep's belly. "What's burning?" The white she-kit sniffed the cakes.
Sparrowstar gently moved her away. "It was a tiny mistake. Don't get to close."
"Let me help you," said Willowstep, pawing Icekit close to her. "I know how to use the oven."
Sparrowstar growled, insulted. "I know how to use it, too!"
Raggedraven couldn't help but turn away and stop herself from laughing. He doesn't.
"There's supposed to be a blood moon the night we visit," Sparrowstar went on. He jumped onto the chair and grabbed the smartphone. Then he jumped down and showed Willowstep the screen. "See? Do you know what this means?"
At the mention of "blood moon," the rest of the clan stopped putting up decorations and cleaning to run into the kitchen. They talked all at once.
"A blood moon? When?"
"What does this mean?"
"Will Onyx return for revenge?"
"Silence!" yowled Sparrowstar. He read the article for a few moments and said, "We're going to have to be careful. I don't know what will happen, but whatever it is, I know we'll be able to protect the living."
He was met with nods of agreement. Though no one said it, they all feared the worst.
From that point on, the blood moon remained on their minds.
As the dead cats left, Sparrowstar beckoned Thistlestorm with his tail. He whispered something into the tom's ear, and then let him go. Raggedraven was the only one with him now. He narrowed his eyes.
"Don't think I didn't see you trying not to laugh. Have you stayed to make fun of me, too?"
Raggedraven couldn't hold in her laughter anymore. "I'm sorry. You just look hilarious when you're mad." When she recovered, she said, "Do you mind if I join you making new cakes?"
Sparrowstar's ears twitched, and his tail thumped the floor many times. "Are you sure? You just finished decorating outside our twoleg den. You should be getting warm."
"I'm sure. It'll be hard to get back to reading my book, anyway."
After a few moments, he finally nodded. Together they threw out the burned cakes and gathered the ingredients for the fresh batch.
- - -
The half moon shone in the night sky. A golden tabby she-cat with a white chest ran to keep herself warm, but it didn't do much for. The air had been simply too cold lately. She could only find warmth in a few few places, and the den with the blue crystal was one of them.
When she was inside, she was greeted by warmer air. The crystal shone brightly where it stood for many generations. She remembered hearing stories about how the Clan of Everlasting Rest allowed Raggedraven, a MountainClan warrior from the past, spend some of her days in exile here. She purred as she let her nose touch touch the crystal.
Instantly she was in a clearing surrounded by beautiful trees of all kinds. In front of her was a ginger tom with white ears. He watched her with his blue eyes.
She blinked a few times. No, don't think about that! You didn't train an apprentice yet!
The tom moved closer to her. "Greetings, Mothshine." he purred.
"Hello." Her voice was quieter than she expected. "What new does the Clan of Everlasting Rest bring? If it's about the party, we're all ready. The camp is clean, and the fresh-kill pile is stocked high."
"I've come with a warning," said the tom. "There is supposed to be a blood moon when we visit. Be on the lookout. This could mean something terrible might happen."
"Better to be safe than sorry," Mothshine muttered to herself. To the tom, she said, "I'll inform the clan. Thank you."
The tom dipped his head. The dream ended before she could see his sparkling blue eyes again.
By the time the blood moon arrived, the party was the last thing on every cat's mind. There was no joy when Sparrowstar's MountainClan entered their old clearing, now occupied by their descendants. There was nothing but silence as Sparrowstar made his way over to a brown and white tabby she-cat and dipped his head. "Ravenstar."
The living leader dipped her head in return. "Sparrowstar. I appreciate that you sent someone to give us that warning. However, I don't see any danger."
"But I can feel it!" protested Mothshine. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her ears were flatten against her head. She turned to Thistlestorm. "You were right to be worried. Something isn't supposed to be here."
Raggedraven placed her box of small cakes onto the ground. "Like what? I can't sense anything."
Nettleheart brushed against her side. "That might be because you're legs are shaking." His whiskers twitched. Raggedraven playfully batted his ears.
"Enough of this talk!" said Hawkflight, stretching. "I'm ready for some fun. Have you brought the cakes?"
Raggedraven pushed her box over to him and opened it. "Look at them. Aren't they great?"
Hawkflight sniffed them and purred in approval. "They sure are. Who made them?"
"Sparrowstar and I made them."
She laughed as Hawkflight's look of interest turned to shock. Her laugh was cut short as the wind chilled her bones. She knew better than to expect to never experience that again. But she and her dead clanmates were allowed to use their bodies for this night. She brushed her fur against Nettleheart. Soon all cats, living and dead drew closer together, letting their pelts touch. The food was quickly forgotten. Every cat winced and gasped in fright as maniacal laughter filled the air.
Raggedraven felt like feinting. She thought she would never have to hear that sound again, but here it was, all around her. And not even being close to anyone make the feeling go away. She raised her eyes to the sky. There was little strength in her body. All she could do was star at the moon.
It have been a full moon, she thought. Not this!
The cats were so close together that there was hardly any room to breathe. But no one protested. The earth started shaking, and they yowled in fear. It was almost enough to make an animal deaf.
The brambles that surrounded the camp were clawed aside. A very familiar face appeared near Ravenstar's den. The tom was gray and his eyes were amber - or were amber. Now there was nothing in the eye sockets but blood. Most of his fur was gone, and his skin deteriorated each step he took.
Is this a dream? Let me wake up! Raggedraven cried in her mind. Some of the cats managed to recover from fright and hissed at the dead that followed what was left of Onyx.
"Why is he like this?" cried Raggedraven. "I thought . . ."
Onyx and his cats sprang at them with their broken claws out. Mothshine ran to her den, her tail in between her legs. But moments later, she stuck her head out to watch.
Mudflight, Willowstep, and Barkpelt sprang into action, though they didn't need to use much of their skills. At each clawing, blood spilled out from their enemies. The stench it gave off was horrible, and they had to stand back and breathe.
Nettleheart and Brooklight raced over to Mothshine. They stood close in case any enemies came near.
Raggedraven finally shook herself and joined Sparrowstar, Palelight, and Pebblefur take on Onyx and two massive tabby toms who were also familiar. Their bodies soon were in pieces, giving off the same horrible scent. Around them were the rest of the MountainClan cats fighting each new dead enemy who ran into camp.
The fight lasted for hours, and not a single cat was left without at least one scratch. The bodies of the dead - now dead again - were in many different piles around camp. And the blood moon was replaced by the sun.
Sparrowstar recoiled as he sniffed the air. He shook his head. "That cat never learns to not come back."
And then his cats returned to the Clan of Everlasting Rest.