Post by ! (Ġray) ! on Jul 13, 2023 15:52:40 GMT -5
Summary:
Brambleclaw was finally enjoying being a warrior without living in his father's shadow- that is until a dog attack on the full moon left him with a horrifying curse that made clan life nearly impossible. With only a moon before his next transformation, he sets out to find a cure- something that's easier said than done.
Originally posted on ao3, but I thought I'd post it here as well, to keep this board alive and also because I want more people to see my stuff. So here we go, the story thus far:
Chapter 1:
Chapter 2:
Chapter 3:
Chapter 4:
Another half-moon passed normally. Brambleclaw’s leg had recovered to the point where he no longer needed poultices, and he could walk without pain. Most of his leg was still host to horrible pink scars, but dark tabby fur was beginning to grow back in patches where his wounds weren’t as bad. He wasn’t allowed to join patrols yet, but he no longer needed to stay in the medicine den, allowed to use his regular nest in the warriors den. He was finally allowed out of camp by himself, a privilege he had been using to its full value. Determined to make up for the time he’d spent in the medicine den, Brambleclaw went out whenever Cinderpelt allowed it. Goldenflower was a lot more worried than Brambleclaw was about him going out; she fretted over him like he was a kit and insisted on accompanying him whenever she could. It was sweet, if a little overbearing.
Brambleclaw made sure to be extra cautious, determined that nobody would be able to sneak up on him. No dogs, no lying rogues. Even though he didn’t believe a thing the rogue had said, Brambleclaw couldn’t help but feel a prickle of unease, a sense that something was wrong. Recently, as the full moon drew closer, the squeezing feeling had gotten worse, a faint buzzing noise in his head accompanying it. He blamed it on the herbs Cinderpelt had given him, but that excuse was running out. He was also ravenously hungry and was always starving even after he had just eaten. It’s because I’m recovering. No matter how many excuses he made, the unease remained. A tiny voice in his head that questioned whether the rogue had told him the truth. But that’s impossible, right?
Brambleclaw wished he had something to distract him from his worries and doubts. His clanmates stopped to talk to him frequently, but it was only a matter of time before they were summoned for their warrior duties. Brambleclaw watched the entrance of camp, jealous at all the warriors free to patrol. What good am I as a warrior who can’t even do my duties?
Hollykit tumbled out of the nursery, Birchkit chasing after her. Larchkit appeared last, carrying a moss ball that she threw to Hollykit. Brambleclaw felt his mood lift as he watched them play. If I want to be helpful, I can take care of the kits for a bit.
Brambleclaw watched the kits play, whiskers twitching in amusement at their overdramatic movements and the way they acted like nothing was more important than winning the game. Hollykit threw the moss ball as high as she could into the air. “Catch it, Birchkit!”
Birchkit scampered after the moss ball, eyes locked on the toy instead of his surroundings. He leapt towards it with stubby kitten legs and crashed into Brambleclaw. He stumbled from the impact, catching himself with his good leg at the last moment. “Sorry, Brambleclaw!” The tiny kit squeaked.
Brambleclaw grinned, hooking the toy under his claws. “I’ll forgive you, but only if you can beat me at moss ball!”
Birchkit let out a delighted squeal. “Larchkit! Hollykit! Let’s beat him!”
Brambleclaw hadn’t played like this since he was a kit. It was nice, to be able to be carefree once again. He lost track of time as he played with them, but it must have been at least an hour. He felt a tiny pinprick of remorse for the past, when he was a tiny kit playing with Snowkit and Tawnypelt. I wish they were still here.
“Brambleclaw? You look sad. Are you sad?” Hollykit stared at him with wide, worried eyes.
Brambleclaw shook his head reassuringly. “I’m not sad. It’s getting late, you should probably go back to Ferncloud now, okay?”
Hollykit nodded and scampered back to the nursery with her siblings. It was late, a lot later than Brambleclaw had realised. The sun was setting, casting the edges of the sky in a reddish-orange glow. Above Brambleclaw, the sky was inky black with stars speckled across it. It reminded Brambleclaw of the night he’d been attacked, and he shuddered at the memory.
Brambleclaw stared at the sky until the sun completely set, replaced by the silvery glow of the almost-full moon. It’s beautiful. As the warriors of ThunderClan slowly retreated to their dens and curled into their nests, Brambleclaw stayed outside and stared at the sky.
He had a sudden feeling that this was the last peace he’d see in a while. But what could possibly be coming? ThunderClan wasn’t at war, and the weather posed no threat at the moment. There was an abundance of prey, especially for this late in Greenleaf. Nothing is going to happen. I’m just being paranoid.
The tingling, squeezing feeling in his muscles almost seemed to grow stronger as he stared at the moon. He tensed as he made the connection, fur bristling slightly. I must be crazy. Do I seriously believe I have some sort of moon sickness? No way! I’m just imagining that the moon’s making me feel different. It’s all just paranoia.
Forcing himself to tear his gaze from the sky, Brambleclaw slunk into warriors den and tiptoed around the sleeping warriors to hide in his nest. Absolutely nothing is wrong.
Chapter 5:
Chapter 6:
Through some miracle, Hawkfrost was still alive when dawn struck. Evidentially, the cave was a lot more solid than either of them had expected. And despite the rough condition he was in after hiding from the dog all night, he was at least unharmed.
The dog had changed its strategy to digging up the tunnel after it discovered the rocks wouldn’t move. But when the moon disappeared and the first rays of sunlight struck the dogs pelt, it froze. Hawkfrost watched in open-mouthed shock as the dogs body withered and shrunk, changing until its figure resembled a cat. When the transformation was complete, the cat fell over, eyes closed with their sides slowly rising and falling.
Hawkfrosts eyes widened as he realised he recognised the cat in front of him. It was Brambleclaw, a ThunderClan warrior Hawkfrost had seen at gatherings before. He couldn’t stop the audible gasp that left his lips. There was a werewolf in front of him.
Hawkfrost had heard of werewolves, of course. Sasha told him stories about ordinary cats that became uncontrollable, savage beasts with teeth sharper than silverthorn once they saw the full moon. Hawkfrost, unlike Mothwing, had never been gullible enough to believe the stories. But now that there was actually one in front of him, he didn’t know what to believe. A plan was already starting to form in his head, though. This could be a great opportunity.
A werewolf would make a powerful ally. A shame he isn’t in my clan. But I can work around that. All I have to do is put him in my debt. Hawkfrost crept out from the cave and nudged Brambleclaw’s shoulder gently with his paw. “Brambleclaw? Are you okay?” Hawkfrost put as much concern as he could muster into his voice.
Brambleclaw whimpered in his sleep, then awoke with a groan. He stood up slowly, then looked around in confusion. “What happened? Where am I?”
Oh, this will be too easy. “You’re on RiverClan territory. I don’t know what happened- I was just minding my own business when you appeared and tried to kill me!” Hawkfrost told himself that the fear in his voice as he spoke was just to guilt trip Brambleclaw, and not because he was actually scared of the older warrior. “I didn’t know you were a werewolf.”
“I’m not-” horror lit up Brambleclaw’s face. “Oh no…”
The ThunderClan warrior sat up slowly, fear and horror written across his face and bushed-up pelt. “I’m so sorry,” Brambleclaw whispered hoarsely.
Hawkfrost put his tail on Brambleclaw’s shoulder comfortingly, internally gagging at the musty ThunderClan scent. He mustn’t have been a werewolf for very long. I saw him just a few gatherings ago, and he was fine. If I pretend to help him now, I can force him to help me when it matters. “Who bit you? Was it another ThunderClan cat?”
Brambleclaw shook his head slowly, staring at the ground. “How do you know about werewolves?”
“Magic is pretty common knowledge outside the clans. I’ve heard stories about them from my mother.”
Brambleclaw stood up slowly, like the elders did when they complained about their bones aching. “You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” His voice was so pleadingly desperate that it was just begging to be blackmailed, but a slightly kinder part of Hawkfrost forced him to stick with his original plan.
“Of course not. In fact, I want to help you. Meet me at full moons, and I’ll help you hide.”
Brambleclaws eyes shone with gratitude, almost replacing the fear and sadness inside them for a moment. “Are you sure? You’d have to do so much for me…”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to repay me," Hawkfrost muttered quiet enough that Brambleclaw couldn’t hear. The reeds on the riverbed rustled, and he froze. Is someone watching us? He tasted the air, trying to scent for any patrols that might be nearby. The dawn patrol would have started by now, and his hard-earned reputation would be ruined if anyone saw him talking to an enemy warrior on RiverClan territory. “You should probably get back to your own clan before anyone notices you’re gone.”
Brambleclaw tried to walk on shaky legs and stumbled to the side. He looked utterly pathetic. Hawkfrost wondered if he could even make it to the border by himself, but Brambleclaw seemed determined, picking up his pace to walk faster. Before he disappeared from sight, he turned his head back to Hawkfrost. “Thank you so much. I owe you.”
Hawkfrost purred at those words. “Not a problem.”
He watched the older warrior leave through narrowed eyes. I’m going to be keeping a very close eye on you from now on, Brambleclaw.
Brambleclaw hissed at the pain that shot through his bones with every step. His entire body ached, from nose to tail-tip. It was an effort to even move, let alone walk, and he longed to get back to camp and curl up in his nest.
He couldn’t remember anything from the night before. After the agony of his transformation, his mind was completely blank. I almost killed someone, and I wouldn’t have even known I did it. I’m a monster. And next full moon, the pain would come back, and he’d have to do all this again. At least Hawkfrost will help me next time… but what if I hurt him?
His stomach felt as though it was being ripped apart by claws. He’d never been this hungry before, not even in leaf-bare. All he wanted was to eat something, curl up, and fall asleep forever. He was emotionally numb from shock, the only thing stopping him from having a breakdown.
Finally, after what seemed like seasons, the camp finally loomed into view. Brambleclaw entered as quietly as he could through the dirtplace tunnel and snuck into the medicine den, curling up as tightly as he could and hiding his wet eyes with his tail.
If there was any such thing as true misery, this was it.
Brambleclaw was finally enjoying being a warrior without living in his father's shadow- that is until a dog attack on the full moon left him with a horrifying curse that made clan life nearly impossible. With only a moon before his next transformation, he sets out to find a cure- something that's easier said than done.
Originally posted on ao3, but I thought I'd post it here as well, to keep this board alive and also because I want more people to see my stuff. So here we go, the story thus far:
Chapter 1:
It was a beautiful night for a stroll.
The full moon cast a silvery glow over everything it touched, and the stars seemed to shine even brighter than usual. It was so beautiful, in fact, that Brambleclaw didn’t even mind missing this moons gathering. He slowed down, taking in the sound of crickets chirping and breeze rustling through the trees. This is peaceful. He inhaled, the cool night air refreshing his senses and calming him. There was the taste of mouse in the air, and Brambleclaw followed it, in the mood for some night hunting. Pawsteps light, he hid in a clump of ferns and watched his prey. It scurried through the undergrowth, searching through leaf litter for something to eat. Brambleclaw licked his lips and narrowed his eyes, preparing for the pounce.
But then a chilling howl cut through the air. The mouse darted away and Brambleclaw stiffened, tasting the air to try and locate the dog. Mouse-dung! It’s the gathering tonight, the camp is unprotected! There’s hardly anyone around. I can’t call for help if something goes wrong.
Its scent was strong, so strong Brambleclaw couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before now. He stood up, eyes darting wildly around as he searched for any flash of fur, anything that would show him a dog was near. Thankfully, he couldn’t see anything. I better get out of here and get someone to help me drive it away.
The night seemed angry now, the tranquillity from before gone. Everything seemed darker now, the night completely silent. Even the insects were hidden away, seemingly aware of the threat.
There was a bark, louder than before. The dog was getting closer. Brambleclaw started to run, focused on nothing but getting back to the safety of camp. He realised with a sense of dread that he was running with the wind; his sense of smell was completely cut off. The dog could be right behind him, and he wouldn’t know it.
And then he heard the growl.
There was a dog, the biggest dog he’d ever seen. It had red eyes and yellow teeth that dripped with saliva. It was the biggest dog Brambleclaw had ever seen, and it was slowly creeping towards him. It had black, bushy fur and a horribly misshapen body. It was truly something straight out of a nightmare.
He ran faster than he’d ever run before, desperate to not only get away from the beast, but also keep it away from camp. He remembered when he was only a new apprentice, and the dog pack had torn through the forest and almost wiped out ThunderClan. I can’t let that happen again.
He was getting tired, but the dog was not. It continued to chase him, snapping at the tip of his tail. There was no time to climb a tree, there was nowhere for him to hide.
I have to fight.
Brambleclaw sprang and turned, hissing furiously at the dog. It was even bigger than he’d first thought, he could see every hair on its pelt up close. Suddenly it lunged towards him, jaws snapping wildly at the air. Brambleclaw barely managed to scamper out of the way in time. The dog snarled angrily, slobber flying everywhere as it turned to snap at Brambleclaw again. The young warrior slashed at its muzzle, sending drops of blood everywhere.
He wasn’t expecting the dog to grab his foreleg in its teeth. It bit down hard, tearing at his flesh. Brambleclaw screamed, struggling to get free to no avail. He yowled in pain, but the dog only seemed to relish his screams, biting down even harder. The dog then shook him roughly, as though Brambleclaw was nothing more than a toy. I don’t want to die… Blood was soaking his fur. His eyesight was going blurry. Brambleclaw let out a final, weak cry as everything faded into black.
The full moon cast a silvery glow over everything it touched, and the stars seemed to shine even brighter than usual. It was so beautiful, in fact, that Brambleclaw didn’t even mind missing this moons gathering. He slowed down, taking in the sound of crickets chirping and breeze rustling through the trees. This is peaceful. He inhaled, the cool night air refreshing his senses and calming him. There was the taste of mouse in the air, and Brambleclaw followed it, in the mood for some night hunting. Pawsteps light, he hid in a clump of ferns and watched his prey. It scurried through the undergrowth, searching through leaf litter for something to eat. Brambleclaw licked his lips and narrowed his eyes, preparing for the pounce.
But then a chilling howl cut through the air. The mouse darted away and Brambleclaw stiffened, tasting the air to try and locate the dog. Mouse-dung! It’s the gathering tonight, the camp is unprotected! There’s hardly anyone around. I can’t call for help if something goes wrong.
Its scent was strong, so strong Brambleclaw couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before now. He stood up, eyes darting wildly around as he searched for any flash of fur, anything that would show him a dog was near. Thankfully, he couldn’t see anything. I better get out of here and get someone to help me drive it away.
The night seemed angry now, the tranquillity from before gone. Everything seemed darker now, the night completely silent. Even the insects were hidden away, seemingly aware of the threat.
There was a bark, louder than before. The dog was getting closer. Brambleclaw started to run, focused on nothing but getting back to the safety of camp. He realised with a sense of dread that he was running with the wind; his sense of smell was completely cut off. The dog could be right behind him, and he wouldn’t know it.
And then he heard the growl.
There was a dog, the biggest dog he’d ever seen. It had red eyes and yellow teeth that dripped with saliva. It was the biggest dog Brambleclaw had ever seen, and it was slowly creeping towards him. It had black, bushy fur and a horribly misshapen body. It was truly something straight out of a nightmare.
He ran faster than he’d ever run before, desperate to not only get away from the beast, but also keep it away from camp. He remembered when he was only a new apprentice, and the dog pack had torn through the forest and almost wiped out ThunderClan. I can’t let that happen again.
He was getting tired, but the dog was not. It continued to chase him, snapping at the tip of his tail. There was no time to climb a tree, there was nowhere for him to hide.
I have to fight.
Brambleclaw sprang and turned, hissing furiously at the dog. It was even bigger than he’d first thought, he could see every hair on its pelt up close. Suddenly it lunged towards him, jaws snapping wildly at the air. Brambleclaw barely managed to scamper out of the way in time. The dog snarled angrily, slobber flying everywhere as it turned to snap at Brambleclaw again. The young warrior slashed at its muzzle, sending drops of blood everywhere.
He wasn’t expecting the dog to grab his foreleg in its teeth. It bit down hard, tearing at his flesh. Brambleclaw screamed, struggling to get free to no avail. He yowled in pain, but the dog only seemed to relish his screams, biting down even harder. The dog then shook him roughly, as though Brambleclaw was nothing more than a toy. I don’t want to die… Blood was soaking his fur. His eyesight was going blurry. Brambleclaw let out a final, weak cry as everything faded into black.
Chapter 2:
Squirrelpaw paced around the camp, waiting for her mentor Dustpelt to finally finish eating so she could go hunting. Shrewpaw, Spiderpaw and Whitepaw had all already gone out, and it was completely unfair that she had to wait. I bet Spiderpaw will be so smug about it when he gets back. Come on Dustpelt, hurry up!
Dustpelt finally finished eating after what seemed like moons, gulping down the last bite and digging a small hole to bury the bones. As soon as he swallowed the last bite, Squirrelpaw raced over to him. “Can we go out now?”
“We don’t even have a full patrol yet,” Dustpelt grumbled. “Greystripe! Anyone you want us to take with us?”
Greystripe glanced around camp. “You can take Brambleclaw and Rainwhisker with you.”
Oh great, Brambleclaw. The most annoying cat in ThunderClan. Squirrelpaw absolutely hated the dark tabby warrior; he always acted like he was better than her and treated her like a dumb kit. It was infuriating. It was good to have Rainwhisker on the patrol though. He was quiet, preferring to let other cats talk, and when he did speak, his voice was soft. But he was also the only cat in the clan who didn’t mind Squirrelpaw’s constant talking. He got up and stood next to them as soon as his name was called, but Brambleclaw was nowhere to be seen. That’s weird. He usually yells at me for being late to patrol. “Squirrelpaw, go wake up Brambleclaw,” ordered Dustpelt.
Squirrelpaw made a face. “Can’t we just go without him?”
Dustpelt shot her a glare that told her that any more arguing would be useless. Rolling her eyes, she stomped into the warriors den and looked around for Brambleclaw.
He wasn’t there. Squirrelpaw could tell by his stale scent that he hadn’t slept in the den all night. Weird.
“Where’s Brambleclaw?” Squirrelpaw could tell by the accusatory note in her mentor’s voice that he thought she had chosen not to wake him.
“I don’t know, he wasn’t there.”
Rainwhisker looked a little worried. “Should we look for him when we go out?”
Oh great. I could be going on a perfectly good hunting patrol, but instead I’m looking for a stupid furball. Thanks a lot, Brambleclaw. “Do we have to? He probably went out by himself,” Squirrelpaw complained.
Dustpelt shot her a glare. “I don’t know why you don’t like Brambleclaw, but he’s your clanmate whether you like it or not. We’re looking for him.” Squirrelpaw grumbled to Rainwhisker as she stomped through the undergrowth, imagining Spiderpaw’s smug face when she came back to camp empty-pawed. Hopefully the patrol wouldn’t have to spend too long looking for Brambleclaw before Dustpelt let them go hunting. When I find that stupid furball I swear…
Rainwhisker paused suddenly, tasting the air with wide, shocked, eyes. His whiskers trembled fearfully. “What is it, Rainwhisker?” Squirrelpaw eyed her friend worriedly.
“Do you smell blood?”
Squirrelpaw lifted her head and tasted the air, the faint scent of blood leaving a coppery tang in her throat. Her fur bristled in alarm. A tiny part of her hoped that some cat had just made a messy kill while hunting, but the blood had a different smell to the sweetness of prey blood. “Let’s go!”
The patrol moved forward in silence, racing towards the scent as it got stronger and stronger until it was all around Squirrelpaw, choking her with its thick scent. She could scent dog underneath it, horrified realisation filling her mind as she pieced together what happened. And then she saw it.
Squirrelpaw skidded to a halt, her mouth agape in horror. Brambleclaw was lying on the ground, his right foreleg a mess of bloody flesh and tattered fur. Dried blood clung to the grass and leaf-litter around him, already dry and sticky. Rainwhisker let out a screech of horror, running over to the warrior he had grown up with. “Brambleclaw?” Rainwhisker shook him gently at first, then more firmly as he didn’t respond. Squirrelpaw might have thought his was dead if not for the slow rise and fall of his chest. “We have to get him to camp!”
Dustpelt stared at Brambleclaw, face twisted in something Squirrelpaw had never seen before. “Load him onto my back. I’m strong enough to carry him.”
As Rainwhisker loaded the unconscious (but somehow alive) warrior onto Dustpelt’s back, Squirrelpaw stared on with a worm of guilt in her chest. She wouldn’t have complained if she knew this is what she’d find. I’m sorry, Brambleclaw.
The return was much slower, but they moved as fast as they could safely transport Brambleclaw. After what seemed like seasons of hearing rattling breathing in her ears, the camp entrance finally came into view. “Everyone, out of my way!” Dustpelt yowled, pushing through the entrance. Rainwhisker followed him, Squirrelpaw entering last.
She could already hear Goldenflowers wail as soon as she entered camp. The sound of it sent chills to Squirrelpaw’s heart. Goldenflower sounded utterly hopeless, her wail the essence of fear and despair. If I ever saw Leafpaw like that, I don’t know what I’d do.
Her wail seemed to call everyone from their dens, all stopping in shocked horror as they saw what happened to their clanmate. Cinderpelt raced over beside Goldenflower, pressing her pelt against her comfortingly. “Don’t worry, Goldenflower. I’ll take care of him. Dustpelt, take Brambleclaw to my den.” Cinderpelt seemed calm despite the situation. She’s used to stuff like this, I guess. Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but worry about her sister, Leafpaw. She was a medicine cat apprentice, but she was much less experienced and worried easily. Squirrelpaw could feel her sister fretting over which herbs to use and tried to send her comforting thoughts. I believe in you!
The clan started to gossip anxiously over what had happened to Brambleclaw. Cats started to crowd around the medicine den, and it took Cinderpelt a while to chase all but Firestar and Goldenflower away.
“Hey Squirrelpaw! Do you know what happened to him?”
It was Spiderpaw, the most annoying of all the apprentices and currently one of her least favourite cats in the clan. “No, I don’t,” she snapped.
“Doesn’t your nose work? Surely you could have found some sort of clue?”
The remark made Squirrelpaw pause. The scent of blood and fear covered almost everything, but that had been another scent hidden underneath it. “There was a dog.”
Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say, and apparently the entire clan had been listening to their conversation. “A dog!” Brightheart cried out, pressing against Cloudtail. “What if the pack’s returned?”
Now there really was chaos everywhere. Cats were shouting at each other, individual words impossible to decipher in the chaos. It was enough to intimidate even Squirrelpaw, who usually thought the crazier something was, the better.
“ENOUGH!”
Everyone went silent. Squirrelpaw turned to the leader’s rock and saw Firestar staring down at his clanmates. “All of you, stay calm. The dog pack was destroyed long ago, but there might be another. Greystripe, organise a patrol to check just in case. Everyone else, don’t panic. I’ll make sure nobody else is harmed.”
The clan seemed to relax at his words. Greystripe assigned a patrol to go after the dog, and while the rest of the clan continued to gossip, they were much quieter than before. Seeing his clan was okay, Firestar jumped back down from the Highrock and trotted into the medicine den. Squirrelpaw couldn’t help still feeling unsettled. Something tells me this isn’t the end.
Dustpelt finally finished eating after what seemed like moons, gulping down the last bite and digging a small hole to bury the bones. As soon as he swallowed the last bite, Squirrelpaw raced over to him. “Can we go out now?”
“We don’t even have a full patrol yet,” Dustpelt grumbled. “Greystripe! Anyone you want us to take with us?”
Greystripe glanced around camp. “You can take Brambleclaw and Rainwhisker with you.”
Oh great, Brambleclaw. The most annoying cat in ThunderClan. Squirrelpaw absolutely hated the dark tabby warrior; he always acted like he was better than her and treated her like a dumb kit. It was infuriating. It was good to have Rainwhisker on the patrol though. He was quiet, preferring to let other cats talk, and when he did speak, his voice was soft. But he was also the only cat in the clan who didn’t mind Squirrelpaw’s constant talking. He got up and stood next to them as soon as his name was called, but Brambleclaw was nowhere to be seen. That’s weird. He usually yells at me for being late to patrol. “Squirrelpaw, go wake up Brambleclaw,” ordered Dustpelt.
Squirrelpaw made a face. “Can’t we just go without him?”
Dustpelt shot her a glare that told her that any more arguing would be useless. Rolling her eyes, she stomped into the warriors den and looked around for Brambleclaw.
He wasn’t there. Squirrelpaw could tell by his stale scent that he hadn’t slept in the den all night. Weird.
“Where’s Brambleclaw?” Squirrelpaw could tell by the accusatory note in her mentor’s voice that he thought she had chosen not to wake him.
“I don’t know, he wasn’t there.”
Rainwhisker looked a little worried. “Should we look for him when we go out?”
Oh great. I could be going on a perfectly good hunting patrol, but instead I’m looking for a stupid furball. Thanks a lot, Brambleclaw. “Do we have to? He probably went out by himself,” Squirrelpaw complained.
Dustpelt shot her a glare. “I don’t know why you don’t like Brambleclaw, but he’s your clanmate whether you like it or not. We’re looking for him.” Squirrelpaw grumbled to Rainwhisker as she stomped through the undergrowth, imagining Spiderpaw’s smug face when she came back to camp empty-pawed. Hopefully the patrol wouldn’t have to spend too long looking for Brambleclaw before Dustpelt let them go hunting. When I find that stupid furball I swear…
Rainwhisker paused suddenly, tasting the air with wide, shocked, eyes. His whiskers trembled fearfully. “What is it, Rainwhisker?” Squirrelpaw eyed her friend worriedly.
“Do you smell blood?”
Squirrelpaw lifted her head and tasted the air, the faint scent of blood leaving a coppery tang in her throat. Her fur bristled in alarm. A tiny part of her hoped that some cat had just made a messy kill while hunting, but the blood had a different smell to the sweetness of prey blood. “Let’s go!”
The patrol moved forward in silence, racing towards the scent as it got stronger and stronger until it was all around Squirrelpaw, choking her with its thick scent. She could scent dog underneath it, horrified realisation filling her mind as she pieced together what happened. And then she saw it.
Squirrelpaw skidded to a halt, her mouth agape in horror. Brambleclaw was lying on the ground, his right foreleg a mess of bloody flesh and tattered fur. Dried blood clung to the grass and leaf-litter around him, already dry and sticky. Rainwhisker let out a screech of horror, running over to the warrior he had grown up with. “Brambleclaw?” Rainwhisker shook him gently at first, then more firmly as he didn’t respond. Squirrelpaw might have thought his was dead if not for the slow rise and fall of his chest. “We have to get him to camp!”
Dustpelt stared at Brambleclaw, face twisted in something Squirrelpaw had never seen before. “Load him onto my back. I’m strong enough to carry him.”
As Rainwhisker loaded the unconscious (but somehow alive) warrior onto Dustpelt’s back, Squirrelpaw stared on with a worm of guilt in her chest. She wouldn’t have complained if she knew this is what she’d find. I’m sorry, Brambleclaw.
The return was much slower, but they moved as fast as they could safely transport Brambleclaw. After what seemed like seasons of hearing rattling breathing in her ears, the camp entrance finally came into view. “Everyone, out of my way!” Dustpelt yowled, pushing through the entrance. Rainwhisker followed him, Squirrelpaw entering last.
She could already hear Goldenflowers wail as soon as she entered camp. The sound of it sent chills to Squirrelpaw’s heart. Goldenflower sounded utterly hopeless, her wail the essence of fear and despair. If I ever saw Leafpaw like that, I don’t know what I’d do.
Her wail seemed to call everyone from their dens, all stopping in shocked horror as they saw what happened to their clanmate. Cinderpelt raced over beside Goldenflower, pressing her pelt against her comfortingly. “Don’t worry, Goldenflower. I’ll take care of him. Dustpelt, take Brambleclaw to my den.” Cinderpelt seemed calm despite the situation. She’s used to stuff like this, I guess. Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but worry about her sister, Leafpaw. She was a medicine cat apprentice, but she was much less experienced and worried easily. Squirrelpaw could feel her sister fretting over which herbs to use and tried to send her comforting thoughts. I believe in you!
The clan started to gossip anxiously over what had happened to Brambleclaw. Cats started to crowd around the medicine den, and it took Cinderpelt a while to chase all but Firestar and Goldenflower away.
“Hey Squirrelpaw! Do you know what happened to him?”
It was Spiderpaw, the most annoying of all the apprentices and currently one of her least favourite cats in the clan. “No, I don’t,” she snapped.
“Doesn’t your nose work? Surely you could have found some sort of clue?”
The remark made Squirrelpaw pause. The scent of blood and fear covered almost everything, but that had been another scent hidden underneath it. “There was a dog.”
Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say, and apparently the entire clan had been listening to their conversation. “A dog!” Brightheart cried out, pressing against Cloudtail. “What if the pack’s returned?”
Now there really was chaos everywhere. Cats were shouting at each other, individual words impossible to decipher in the chaos. It was enough to intimidate even Squirrelpaw, who usually thought the crazier something was, the better.
“ENOUGH!”
Everyone went silent. Squirrelpaw turned to the leader’s rock and saw Firestar staring down at his clanmates. “All of you, stay calm. The dog pack was destroyed long ago, but there might be another. Greystripe, organise a patrol to check just in case. Everyone else, don’t panic. I’ll make sure nobody else is harmed.”
The clan seemed to relax at his words. Greystripe assigned a patrol to go after the dog, and while the rest of the clan continued to gossip, they were much quieter than before. Seeing his clan was okay, Firestar jumped back down from the Highrock and trotted into the medicine den. Squirrelpaw couldn’t help still feeling unsettled. Something tells me this isn’t the end.
Chapter 3:
Brambleclaw woke up feeling like he was about to vomit. He was dizzy, disoriented, and in a world of pain. Bursts of black and white appeared in his already blurry vision, and he forced himself not to close his eyes again. What happened?
“Are you okay?”
Brambleclaw could hear Firestars voice next to him, but the very thought of turning his head made him nauseous and speaking was horribly difficult. In the end, he only managed to make a noise that sounded like a cross between a moan and a whimper.
“I’m going to get Goldenflower, okay? Don’t worry. Cinderpelt said you’re going to be okay.”
Brambleclaw didn’t feel okay. His leg felt like it was burning, his entire body felt like it was being squeezed.
Goldenflower was crying when she came in. Brambleclaw wanted to reassure her, but every noise he made sounded like he was in pain. So he stayed silent as his mother cried and stared at the ground, feeling horribly guilty.
“You poor thing. Cinderpelt said your leg should heal, so you’ll be okay. And Firestar sent out patrols to kill the thing that did this. You’ll be okay.” Goldenflower sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Brambleclaw. He wanted to tell her he was fine (even though he wasn’t) and comfort her. But even staying awake was an effort, and Brambleclaw found himself drifting into unconsciousness before long.
The next time he woke was three days later, and he felt much better. The sensation of being squeezed was still there, but it was less prominent than before. His head was clear, and his leg didn’t hurt as much anymore. Leafpaw brought him prey and told him what was going on in the clan, and Goldenflower and Firestar had both visited him in the day he’d been awake.
But Brambleclaw was growing restless, sick of being helpless. He was determined to at least be able to go to the dirtplace by himself, rather than relying on someone to help him walk. He was a warrior, not a kit, after all.
Ignoring the pain that shot through his leg with every step, Brambleclaw limped across camp and through the dirtplace tunnel without anyone stopping him. Once he was in the woods, a voice sounded behind him. It wasn’t one he recognised.
They could remember the night of the full moon, but only in flashes. They remembered attacking a cat. They remembered biting him. And of course, they knew the consequences for it. I can’t believe I did this to an innocent cat.
Maybe he wasn’t innocent. If Ebony pretended the cat they’d bitten was the most evil, wicked, villainous cat alive, it eased the guilt, if only a little. But no matter who it was, I need to find him and tell him what’s going to happen.
Luckily, it wasn’t too hard. Ebony found their camp easily, and the cats didn’t seem cautious unless they were hunting prey. The cat had a horribly mangled foreleg that caused him to limp, and Ebony could recognise the werewolf bite marks covering it. “I’m so sorry,” they whispered.
The cat turned, his face confused and angry. “Rogue! Get off our territory, or I’ll call a patrol!”
Ebony didn’t move. “I will leave as soon as you’ve heard what I’ve got to say.” They took a deep breath. “I bit you on the full moon a few nights ago. You’re a werewolf now. I’m so sorry.”
“Werewolf?” The cat echoed. “What are you talking about?”
Ebony couldn’t hide the surprise from their face. Every cat had heard of werewolves, even if they thought they were only stories. “You’re going to turn into a wolf every full moon. When that happens, stay away from other cats, because if you bite them, they’ll become a werewolf as well.”
The cat didn’t show any signs of emotion. No fear lit up his face, no sorrow or understanding. “You expect me to believe that? I’ll give you a chance to get away from ThunderClan territory before I call a patrol.”
It’s no use. “Please, next full moon get as far away from everyone as you can!”
Ebony darted away, worry lacing their every step. Those poor cats…
Three days passed. Brambleclaw did some stretches and played with Ferncloud’s kits. No patrols could find the rogue, nor had they been able to find the dog a quarter moon prior. Brambleclaw hoped that meant it had left the territory. He had hardly spared a thought to the rogues’ words. It was obviously a lie.
He was beginning to get impatient from being trapped in camp. How long will my leg take to heal? He wasn’t allowed outside of camp without a warrior, and he was only allowed go on short walks to make sure he didn’t injure his leg further. Brambleclaw felt like a kit again. To make himself useful and have something to do, he was helping the apprentices with all their tasks, something Squirrelpaw seemed to find hilarious (though she had been less annoying since the attack).
“Hey Brambleclaw! I saw Tawnypelt on patrol just then.” Ashfur sat beside him with his tail curled around his paws.
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine. She heard about the attack though. She was distraught.”
Brambleclaw felt a prick of guilt over how many cats he’d made worry with his injury. “I’m glad she’s okay.”
Ashfur chuckled. “Better than you, anyway. How’s your leg?”
“Cinderpelt said it’s healing well, so I should be allowed out again by the next gathering.”
The next full moon. What if the rogue wasn’t lying?
He mentally scolded himself. Of course it was a lie, whoever heard of cats turning into dogs?
“That’s good. Well, I promised Ferncloud I’d watch her kits for a bit, so I’ll see you later.”
Brambleclaw mewed goodbye to Ashfur and found himself incredibly bored once again. He’d already performed every task Cinderpelt allowed him to do, and now he had nothing to do.
Deciding that a nap would help pass the time (and convince Cinderpelt that he was recovering), he flopped into his temporary nest and curled up, watching Leafpaw sort herbs. Occasionally she would find something rotten or shrivelled and cast it aside, muttering to herself. It was interesting to watch.
Eventually she came upon a cluster of purple flowers. She stared at them for a moment, frowning. “Wolfsbane… this shouldn’t be here.”
She tossed the herb over her shoulder and slid the herbs that touched it to a separate pile. The flowers she’d thrown originally landed on Brambleclaw’s injured leg.
There was a sizzling sound from where the flower touched his flesh, and he recoiled with a hiss. He suddenly felt like all the energy had been sucked out of him, staring at the herb with an expression more scared than he’d ever looked at a plant before.
Leafpaw turned, frowning in concern. “Are you okay?”
Brambleclaw stared at the plant she’d thrown as though it might lunge at him. “That plant burnt me when I touched it.”
Leafpaw’s face was disbelieving until he showed her the burn wound on his paw. “How is that possible? Wolfsbane is poisonous, but it shouldn’t do that. Wait here, I need to get Cinderpelt to treat that.”
Brambleclaw frowned at the plants name. Wolfsbane.
Something about it felt a little too foreshadowing.
“Are you okay?”
Brambleclaw could hear Firestars voice next to him, but the very thought of turning his head made him nauseous and speaking was horribly difficult. In the end, he only managed to make a noise that sounded like a cross between a moan and a whimper.
“I’m going to get Goldenflower, okay? Don’t worry. Cinderpelt said you’re going to be okay.”
Brambleclaw didn’t feel okay. His leg felt like it was burning, his entire body felt like it was being squeezed.
Goldenflower was crying when she came in. Brambleclaw wanted to reassure her, but every noise he made sounded like he was in pain. So he stayed silent as his mother cried and stared at the ground, feeling horribly guilty.
“You poor thing. Cinderpelt said your leg should heal, so you’ll be okay. And Firestar sent out patrols to kill the thing that did this. You’ll be okay.” Goldenflower sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Brambleclaw. He wanted to tell her he was fine (even though he wasn’t) and comfort her. But even staying awake was an effort, and Brambleclaw found himself drifting into unconsciousness before long.
***
The next time he woke was three days later, and he felt much better. The sensation of being squeezed was still there, but it was less prominent than before. His head was clear, and his leg didn’t hurt as much anymore. Leafpaw brought him prey and told him what was going on in the clan, and Goldenflower and Firestar had both visited him in the day he’d been awake.
But Brambleclaw was growing restless, sick of being helpless. He was determined to at least be able to go to the dirtplace by himself, rather than relying on someone to help him walk. He was a warrior, not a kit, after all.
Ignoring the pain that shot through his leg with every step, Brambleclaw limped across camp and through the dirtplace tunnel without anyone stopping him. Once he was in the woods, a voice sounded behind him. It wasn’t one he recognised.
***
Ebony thought that the forest was abandoned. If they knew that it was home to a large group of cats, they would have run to the twolegplace immeadiately and locked themself in some sort of twoleg thing.They could remember the night of the full moon, but only in flashes. They remembered attacking a cat. They remembered biting him. And of course, they knew the consequences for it. I can’t believe I did this to an innocent cat.
Maybe he wasn’t innocent. If Ebony pretended the cat they’d bitten was the most evil, wicked, villainous cat alive, it eased the guilt, if only a little. But no matter who it was, I need to find him and tell him what’s going to happen.
Luckily, it wasn’t too hard. Ebony found their camp easily, and the cats didn’t seem cautious unless they were hunting prey. The cat had a horribly mangled foreleg that caused him to limp, and Ebony could recognise the werewolf bite marks covering it. “I’m so sorry,” they whispered.
The cat turned, his face confused and angry. “Rogue! Get off our territory, or I’ll call a patrol!”
Ebony didn’t move. “I will leave as soon as you’ve heard what I’ve got to say.” They took a deep breath. “I bit you on the full moon a few nights ago. You’re a werewolf now. I’m so sorry.”
“Werewolf?” The cat echoed. “What are you talking about?”
Ebony couldn’t hide the surprise from their face. Every cat had heard of werewolves, even if they thought they were only stories. “You’re going to turn into a wolf every full moon. When that happens, stay away from other cats, because if you bite them, they’ll become a werewolf as well.”
The cat didn’t show any signs of emotion. No fear lit up his face, no sorrow or understanding. “You expect me to believe that? I’ll give you a chance to get away from ThunderClan territory before I call a patrol.”
It’s no use. “Please, next full moon get as far away from everyone as you can!”
Ebony darted away, worry lacing their every step. Those poor cats…
***
Three days passed. Brambleclaw did some stretches and played with Ferncloud’s kits. No patrols could find the rogue, nor had they been able to find the dog a quarter moon prior. Brambleclaw hoped that meant it had left the territory. He had hardly spared a thought to the rogues’ words. It was obviously a lie.
He was beginning to get impatient from being trapped in camp. How long will my leg take to heal? He wasn’t allowed outside of camp without a warrior, and he was only allowed go on short walks to make sure he didn’t injure his leg further. Brambleclaw felt like a kit again. To make himself useful and have something to do, he was helping the apprentices with all their tasks, something Squirrelpaw seemed to find hilarious (though she had been less annoying since the attack).
“Hey Brambleclaw! I saw Tawnypelt on patrol just then.” Ashfur sat beside him with his tail curled around his paws.
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine. She heard about the attack though. She was distraught.”
Brambleclaw felt a prick of guilt over how many cats he’d made worry with his injury. “I’m glad she’s okay.”
Ashfur chuckled. “Better than you, anyway. How’s your leg?”
“Cinderpelt said it’s healing well, so I should be allowed out again by the next gathering.”
The next full moon. What if the rogue wasn’t lying?
He mentally scolded himself. Of course it was a lie, whoever heard of cats turning into dogs?
“That’s good. Well, I promised Ferncloud I’d watch her kits for a bit, so I’ll see you later.”
Brambleclaw mewed goodbye to Ashfur and found himself incredibly bored once again. He’d already performed every task Cinderpelt allowed him to do, and now he had nothing to do.
Deciding that a nap would help pass the time (and convince Cinderpelt that he was recovering), he flopped into his temporary nest and curled up, watching Leafpaw sort herbs. Occasionally she would find something rotten or shrivelled and cast it aside, muttering to herself. It was interesting to watch.
Eventually she came upon a cluster of purple flowers. She stared at them for a moment, frowning. “Wolfsbane… this shouldn’t be here.”
She tossed the herb over her shoulder and slid the herbs that touched it to a separate pile. The flowers she’d thrown originally landed on Brambleclaw’s injured leg.
There was a sizzling sound from where the flower touched his flesh, and he recoiled with a hiss. He suddenly felt like all the energy had been sucked out of him, staring at the herb with an expression more scared than he’d ever looked at a plant before.
Leafpaw turned, frowning in concern. “Are you okay?”
Brambleclaw stared at the plant she’d thrown as though it might lunge at him. “That plant burnt me when I touched it.”
Leafpaw’s face was disbelieving until he showed her the burn wound on his paw. “How is that possible? Wolfsbane is poisonous, but it shouldn’t do that. Wait here, I need to get Cinderpelt to treat that.”
Brambleclaw frowned at the plants name. Wolfsbane.
Something about it felt a little too foreshadowing.
Chapter 4:
Another half-moon passed normally. Brambleclaw’s leg had recovered to the point where he no longer needed poultices, and he could walk without pain. Most of his leg was still host to horrible pink scars, but dark tabby fur was beginning to grow back in patches where his wounds weren’t as bad. He wasn’t allowed to join patrols yet, but he no longer needed to stay in the medicine den, allowed to use his regular nest in the warriors den. He was finally allowed out of camp by himself, a privilege he had been using to its full value. Determined to make up for the time he’d spent in the medicine den, Brambleclaw went out whenever Cinderpelt allowed it. Goldenflower was a lot more worried than Brambleclaw was about him going out; she fretted over him like he was a kit and insisted on accompanying him whenever she could. It was sweet, if a little overbearing.
Brambleclaw made sure to be extra cautious, determined that nobody would be able to sneak up on him. No dogs, no lying rogues. Even though he didn’t believe a thing the rogue had said, Brambleclaw couldn’t help but feel a prickle of unease, a sense that something was wrong. Recently, as the full moon drew closer, the squeezing feeling had gotten worse, a faint buzzing noise in his head accompanying it. He blamed it on the herbs Cinderpelt had given him, but that excuse was running out. He was also ravenously hungry and was always starving even after he had just eaten. It’s because I’m recovering. No matter how many excuses he made, the unease remained. A tiny voice in his head that questioned whether the rogue had told him the truth. But that’s impossible, right?
Brambleclaw wished he had something to distract him from his worries and doubts. His clanmates stopped to talk to him frequently, but it was only a matter of time before they were summoned for their warrior duties. Brambleclaw watched the entrance of camp, jealous at all the warriors free to patrol. What good am I as a warrior who can’t even do my duties?
Hollykit tumbled out of the nursery, Birchkit chasing after her. Larchkit appeared last, carrying a moss ball that she threw to Hollykit. Brambleclaw felt his mood lift as he watched them play. If I want to be helpful, I can take care of the kits for a bit.
Brambleclaw watched the kits play, whiskers twitching in amusement at their overdramatic movements and the way they acted like nothing was more important than winning the game. Hollykit threw the moss ball as high as she could into the air. “Catch it, Birchkit!”
Birchkit scampered after the moss ball, eyes locked on the toy instead of his surroundings. He leapt towards it with stubby kitten legs and crashed into Brambleclaw. He stumbled from the impact, catching himself with his good leg at the last moment. “Sorry, Brambleclaw!” The tiny kit squeaked.
Brambleclaw grinned, hooking the toy under his claws. “I’ll forgive you, but only if you can beat me at moss ball!”
Birchkit let out a delighted squeal. “Larchkit! Hollykit! Let’s beat him!”
Brambleclaw hadn’t played like this since he was a kit. It was nice, to be able to be carefree once again. He lost track of time as he played with them, but it must have been at least an hour. He felt a tiny pinprick of remorse for the past, when he was a tiny kit playing with Snowkit and Tawnypelt. I wish they were still here.
“Brambleclaw? You look sad. Are you sad?” Hollykit stared at him with wide, worried eyes.
Brambleclaw shook his head reassuringly. “I’m not sad. It’s getting late, you should probably go back to Ferncloud now, okay?”
Hollykit nodded and scampered back to the nursery with her siblings. It was late, a lot later than Brambleclaw had realised. The sun was setting, casting the edges of the sky in a reddish-orange glow. Above Brambleclaw, the sky was inky black with stars speckled across it. It reminded Brambleclaw of the night he’d been attacked, and he shuddered at the memory.
Brambleclaw stared at the sky until the sun completely set, replaced by the silvery glow of the almost-full moon. It’s beautiful. As the warriors of ThunderClan slowly retreated to their dens and curled into their nests, Brambleclaw stayed outside and stared at the sky.
He had a sudden feeling that this was the last peace he’d see in a while. But what could possibly be coming? ThunderClan wasn’t at war, and the weather posed no threat at the moment. There was an abundance of prey, especially for this late in Greenleaf. Nothing is going to happen. I’m just being paranoid.
The tingling, squeezing feeling in his muscles almost seemed to grow stronger as he stared at the moon. He tensed as he made the connection, fur bristling slightly. I must be crazy. Do I seriously believe I have some sort of moon sickness? No way! I’m just imagining that the moon’s making me feel different. It’s all just paranoia.
Forcing himself to tear his gaze from the sky, Brambleclaw slunk into warriors den and tiptoed around the sleeping warriors to hide in his nest. Absolutely nothing is wrong.
Chapter 5:
It was the night of the full moon, and the gathering patrol had already left. Brambleclaw was glad not to be on it, his head was pounding and he felt sicker than ever. The buzzing in his head was so loud he could hardly think, and he felt horribly nauseous. But all the physical sickness was nothing compared to the terrified thoughts racing through his head. This isn’t real, right? I’m not going to turn into a dog, nothing’s going to happen tonight, right?
A stronger wave of nausea rolled over him and he gagged, feeling as though he was about to throw up. He ran for the dirtplace and made it just in time, the horrible taste of bile stuck in his throat.
Brambleclaw had told Cinderpelt about his illness, of course. But neither she nor Leafpaw had been able to determine anything wrong with him. They couldn’t find anything causing his sickness either; it wasn’t contagious and Brambleclaw hadn’t been doing anything any other warrior hadn’t. But it kept getting worse each day. Every day the full moon’s gotten closer, I’ve gotten sicker. Oh StarClan, was the rogue seriously telling the truth?
He had to get away from camp before the sun set. He would walk over to the river, wash out his mouth, and have his worst fears either disappear or be confirmed. He hoped more than he’d ever hoped for anything before that nothing would happen. but he was so dizzy that even walking was a challenge, and between having a moon curse and some undiscovered illness, Brambleclaw didn’t know which one he’d pick.
By the time he reached the river, the sun was almost entirely gone. Brambleclaw took a few quick laps of the river water, enjoying its cool, fresh taste. A moment of peace before everything went wrong. The calm before the storm.
Suddenly, Brambleclaw could feel his entire body twitching and shaking. He had an inexplicable, indescribable urge to look up at the darkening sky, to stare at the moon. His brain was screaming, shouting at him to ignore the urge. Brambleclaw whimpered. His head felt like it was about to split open, and his body was on fire. He couldn’t help it, he just wanted the pain to go away. He looked up, directly at the beautiful shining orb that was the moon. StarClan, it was gorgeous. Why had he never noticed its beauty before? Forget the stars, the moon should be what the clans worshipped. Its beauty was indescribable, to compare it to anything else would be a grave injustice.
He raised his muzzle towards it, trembling, as though he couldn’t control his own movements. Suddenly his head was clear. He opened his mouth as wide as he could.
And then, he howled.
Brambleclaw clamped his jaws shut, eyes widened in fear at the sound he’d just produced. He tried to stand up and get away from the moon, but his legs refused to work. He fell onto the forest floor, helpless as a newborn kit. The pain was coming back now, slowly but surely until it was unbearable. Brambleclaw tried to scream, but it came out as a pained, high-pitched howl. His vision was blurry, and the pain was becoming so intense that he was sure his blood was boiling beneath his flesh. He could hear a horrible snapping noise coming from his back, and his gums were bleeding due to the growth of bigger, sharper teeth. Although it felt like a lifetime, the transformation only took less than a minute. But when the pain finally lifted, Brambleclaw’s thoughts weren’t relieved. Brambleclaw was not Brambleclaw anymore. He had been changed, transformed in a savage, mindless wolf with a thirst for blood.
He was hungry, starving, ravenous. He needed food, he didn’t care what it was. He roared, testing out his voice and announcing his presence. There was the scent of cat on the breeze, and his improved nose could track it from across the territory. The hunt had begun.
Hawkfrost was doing some night fishing when he heard it. A howl, then a roar. Like a dog, but worse. More monstrous, wilder. And worst of all, close.
He flattened his ears and hissed; all thoughts of fishing abandoned. If a dog was on his territory, he was going to drive it off. Hawkfrost had never fought a dog before, but he had seen the brutes twolegs brought with them to the forest. They looked stupid and easy to trick. And besides, there was no way it was harder than fighting a fox, and he had killed one of those before.
His mind filled with fantasies, vivid daydreams of him returning to camp with the head of a dog and his clanmates respect. He was working, ever since he’d been made a warrior two moons ago, towards getting his clanmates absolute respect and loyalty. That way, if Mistyfoot were to get in an… accident, he’d be next in line for the deputy position.
And then he remembered something, a crucial detail. When he’d killed the fox, he’d been with Leopardstar, Feathertail and Stormfur. Now he was alone. And a dog was much bigger than a fox. Unease creeping through his pelt, he decided it would be best to return to camp and go hunting for the dog tomorrow. He would still gain his clanmates respect if he led a patrol to kill the beast, right?
Too late.
Hawkfrost smelt it before he saw it, its stench colliding with his own fear scent. Hawkfrost panicked, jumping into the river and swimming to a small rock in the centre before finally daring to look at it. It was a huge, ugly brute, something straight out of nightmares. Hawkfrost cursed himself for his growing fear scent as he noticed the dogs scarred pelt and bloodied teeth. The dog snarled and barked at him angrily, its red eyes never turning away from its meal. Hawkfrost let out a breath of relief. The dog couldn’t cross the river after him. He was safe.
Or so he thought.
The dog dove into the river without so much as testing the water. Its head stayed above water the whole time, keeping its eyes on Hawkfrost. Terrified, Hawkfrost swam faster than he ever had before to get to the other side of the river. Would the beast stop at nothing to kill him?
I’m not going to die. Not here, and not to some stupid beast! He searched his surroundings, desperately trying to find anything that would help him as the dog drew ever closer. Finally, his eyes locked on a pile of boulders with a cave underneath them. Barely big enough for a cat, and definitely too small for a dog to fit through. Without a second thought, he dove inside the small cave, his fur tearing painfully on the entrance. It’s nothing compared to what will happen if the dog catches me. The dog rose from the river and paused for a moment to shake out its pelt before chasing after Hawkfrost again.
It was massive, bigger than any creature Hawkfrost had ever seen before. It had a badly scarred foreleg, and now that Hawkfrost could see it up close, noticed it had a dark brown pelt and long, hooked claws and fangs. It snapped at the entrance to the cave, oversized muzzle too close for his liking. Hawkfrost hissed fearfully and flattened himself against the other side of the cave, hoping he sounded at least somewhat threatening. How am I supposed to kill this thing?
Is it gone?
And then Hawkfrost heard the worst thing possible. A loud banging and thudding noise. The dog was slamming itself against the stones. It was trying to destroy his shelter. And if that happened, Hawkfrost would be ripped to shreds in an instant.
A stronger wave of nausea rolled over him and he gagged, feeling as though he was about to throw up. He ran for the dirtplace and made it just in time, the horrible taste of bile stuck in his throat.
Brambleclaw had told Cinderpelt about his illness, of course. But neither she nor Leafpaw had been able to determine anything wrong with him. They couldn’t find anything causing his sickness either; it wasn’t contagious and Brambleclaw hadn’t been doing anything any other warrior hadn’t. But it kept getting worse each day. Every day the full moon’s gotten closer, I’ve gotten sicker. Oh StarClan, was the rogue seriously telling the truth?
He had to get away from camp before the sun set. He would walk over to the river, wash out his mouth, and have his worst fears either disappear or be confirmed. He hoped more than he’d ever hoped for anything before that nothing would happen. but he was so dizzy that even walking was a challenge, and between having a moon curse and some undiscovered illness, Brambleclaw didn’t know which one he’d pick.
By the time he reached the river, the sun was almost entirely gone. Brambleclaw took a few quick laps of the river water, enjoying its cool, fresh taste. A moment of peace before everything went wrong. The calm before the storm.
Suddenly, Brambleclaw could feel his entire body twitching and shaking. He had an inexplicable, indescribable urge to look up at the darkening sky, to stare at the moon. His brain was screaming, shouting at him to ignore the urge. Brambleclaw whimpered. His head felt like it was about to split open, and his body was on fire. He couldn’t help it, he just wanted the pain to go away. He looked up, directly at the beautiful shining orb that was the moon. StarClan, it was gorgeous. Why had he never noticed its beauty before? Forget the stars, the moon should be what the clans worshipped. Its beauty was indescribable, to compare it to anything else would be a grave injustice.
He raised his muzzle towards it, trembling, as though he couldn’t control his own movements. Suddenly his head was clear. He opened his mouth as wide as he could.
And then, he howled.
Brambleclaw clamped his jaws shut, eyes widened in fear at the sound he’d just produced. He tried to stand up and get away from the moon, but his legs refused to work. He fell onto the forest floor, helpless as a newborn kit. The pain was coming back now, slowly but surely until it was unbearable. Brambleclaw tried to scream, but it came out as a pained, high-pitched howl. His vision was blurry, and the pain was becoming so intense that he was sure his blood was boiling beneath his flesh. He could hear a horrible snapping noise coming from his back, and his gums were bleeding due to the growth of bigger, sharper teeth. Although it felt like a lifetime, the transformation only took less than a minute. But when the pain finally lifted, Brambleclaw’s thoughts weren’t relieved. Brambleclaw was not Brambleclaw anymore. He had been changed, transformed in a savage, mindless wolf with a thirst for blood.
He was hungry, starving, ravenous. He needed food, he didn’t care what it was. He roared, testing out his voice and announcing his presence. There was the scent of cat on the breeze, and his improved nose could track it from across the territory. The hunt had begun.
***
Hawkfrost was doing some night fishing when he heard it. A howl, then a roar. Like a dog, but worse. More monstrous, wilder. And worst of all, close.
He flattened his ears and hissed; all thoughts of fishing abandoned. If a dog was on his territory, he was going to drive it off. Hawkfrost had never fought a dog before, but he had seen the brutes twolegs brought with them to the forest. They looked stupid and easy to trick. And besides, there was no way it was harder than fighting a fox, and he had killed one of those before.
His mind filled with fantasies, vivid daydreams of him returning to camp with the head of a dog and his clanmates respect. He was working, ever since he’d been made a warrior two moons ago, towards getting his clanmates absolute respect and loyalty. That way, if Mistyfoot were to get in an… accident, he’d be next in line for the deputy position.
And then he remembered something, a crucial detail. When he’d killed the fox, he’d been with Leopardstar, Feathertail and Stormfur. Now he was alone. And a dog was much bigger than a fox. Unease creeping through his pelt, he decided it would be best to return to camp and go hunting for the dog tomorrow. He would still gain his clanmates respect if he led a patrol to kill the beast, right?
Too late.
Hawkfrost smelt it before he saw it, its stench colliding with his own fear scent. Hawkfrost panicked, jumping into the river and swimming to a small rock in the centre before finally daring to look at it. It was a huge, ugly brute, something straight out of nightmares. Hawkfrost cursed himself for his growing fear scent as he noticed the dogs scarred pelt and bloodied teeth. The dog snarled and barked at him angrily, its red eyes never turning away from its meal. Hawkfrost let out a breath of relief. The dog couldn’t cross the river after him. He was safe.
Or so he thought.
The dog dove into the river without so much as testing the water. Its head stayed above water the whole time, keeping its eyes on Hawkfrost. Terrified, Hawkfrost swam faster than he ever had before to get to the other side of the river. Would the beast stop at nothing to kill him?
I’m not going to die. Not here, and not to some stupid beast! He searched his surroundings, desperately trying to find anything that would help him as the dog drew ever closer. Finally, his eyes locked on a pile of boulders with a cave underneath them. Barely big enough for a cat, and definitely too small for a dog to fit through. Without a second thought, he dove inside the small cave, his fur tearing painfully on the entrance. It’s nothing compared to what will happen if the dog catches me. The dog rose from the river and paused for a moment to shake out its pelt before chasing after Hawkfrost again.
It was massive, bigger than any creature Hawkfrost had ever seen before. It had a badly scarred foreleg, and now that Hawkfrost could see it up close, noticed it had a dark brown pelt and long, hooked claws and fangs. It snapped at the entrance to the cave, oversized muzzle too close for his liking. Hawkfrost hissed fearfully and flattened himself against the other side of the cave, hoping he sounded at least somewhat threatening. How am I supposed to kill this thing?
Is it gone?
And then Hawkfrost heard the worst thing possible. A loud banging and thudding noise. The dog was slamming itself against the stones. It was trying to destroy his shelter. And if that happened, Hawkfrost would be ripped to shreds in an instant.
Chapter 6:
Through some miracle, Hawkfrost was still alive when dawn struck. Evidentially, the cave was a lot more solid than either of them had expected. And despite the rough condition he was in after hiding from the dog all night, he was at least unharmed.
The dog had changed its strategy to digging up the tunnel after it discovered the rocks wouldn’t move. But when the moon disappeared and the first rays of sunlight struck the dogs pelt, it froze. Hawkfrost watched in open-mouthed shock as the dogs body withered and shrunk, changing until its figure resembled a cat. When the transformation was complete, the cat fell over, eyes closed with their sides slowly rising and falling.
Hawkfrosts eyes widened as he realised he recognised the cat in front of him. It was Brambleclaw, a ThunderClan warrior Hawkfrost had seen at gatherings before. He couldn’t stop the audible gasp that left his lips. There was a werewolf in front of him.
Hawkfrost had heard of werewolves, of course. Sasha told him stories about ordinary cats that became uncontrollable, savage beasts with teeth sharper than silverthorn once they saw the full moon. Hawkfrost, unlike Mothwing, had never been gullible enough to believe the stories. But now that there was actually one in front of him, he didn’t know what to believe. A plan was already starting to form in his head, though. This could be a great opportunity.
A werewolf would make a powerful ally. A shame he isn’t in my clan. But I can work around that. All I have to do is put him in my debt. Hawkfrost crept out from the cave and nudged Brambleclaw’s shoulder gently with his paw. “Brambleclaw? Are you okay?” Hawkfrost put as much concern as he could muster into his voice.
Brambleclaw whimpered in his sleep, then awoke with a groan. He stood up slowly, then looked around in confusion. “What happened? Where am I?”
Oh, this will be too easy. “You’re on RiverClan territory. I don’t know what happened- I was just minding my own business when you appeared and tried to kill me!” Hawkfrost told himself that the fear in his voice as he spoke was just to guilt trip Brambleclaw, and not because he was actually scared of the older warrior. “I didn’t know you were a werewolf.”
“I’m not-” horror lit up Brambleclaw’s face. “Oh no…”
The ThunderClan warrior sat up slowly, fear and horror written across his face and bushed-up pelt. “I’m so sorry,” Brambleclaw whispered hoarsely.
Hawkfrost put his tail on Brambleclaw’s shoulder comfortingly, internally gagging at the musty ThunderClan scent. He mustn’t have been a werewolf for very long. I saw him just a few gatherings ago, and he was fine. If I pretend to help him now, I can force him to help me when it matters. “Who bit you? Was it another ThunderClan cat?”
Brambleclaw shook his head slowly, staring at the ground. “How do you know about werewolves?”
“Magic is pretty common knowledge outside the clans. I’ve heard stories about them from my mother.”
Brambleclaw stood up slowly, like the elders did when they complained about their bones aching. “You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” His voice was so pleadingly desperate that it was just begging to be blackmailed, but a slightly kinder part of Hawkfrost forced him to stick with his original plan.
“Of course not. In fact, I want to help you. Meet me at full moons, and I’ll help you hide.”
Brambleclaws eyes shone with gratitude, almost replacing the fear and sadness inside them for a moment. “Are you sure? You’d have to do so much for me…”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to repay me," Hawkfrost muttered quiet enough that Brambleclaw couldn’t hear. The reeds on the riverbed rustled, and he froze. Is someone watching us? He tasted the air, trying to scent for any patrols that might be nearby. The dawn patrol would have started by now, and his hard-earned reputation would be ruined if anyone saw him talking to an enemy warrior on RiverClan territory. “You should probably get back to your own clan before anyone notices you’re gone.”
Brambleclaw tried to walk on shaky legs and stumbled to the side. He looked utterly pathetic. Hawkfrost wondered if he could even make it to the border by himself, but Brambleclaw seemed determined, picking up his pace to walk faster. Before he disappeared from sight, he turned his head back to Hawkfrost. “Thank you so much. I owe you.”
Hawkfrost purred at those words. “Not a problem.”
He watched the older warrior leave through narrowed eyes. I’m going to be keeping a very close eye on you from now on, Brambleclaw.
***
He couldn’t remember anything from the night before. After the agony of his transformation, his mind was completely blank. I almost killed someone, and I wouldn’t have even known I did it. I’m a monster. And next full moon, the pain would come back, and he’d have to do all this again. At least Hawkfrost will help me next time… but what if I hurt him?
His stomach felt as though it was being ripped apart by claws. He’d never been this hungry before, not even in leaf-bare. All he wanted was to eat something, curl up, and fall asleep forever. He was emotionally numb from shock, the only thing stopping him from having a breakdown.
Finally, after what seemed like seasons, the camp finally loomed into view. Brambleclaw entered as quietly as he could through the dirtplace tunnel and snuck into the medicine den, curling up as tightly as he could and hiding his wet eyes with his tail.
If there was any such thing as true misery, this was it.