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mareastrorum · 1 year ago

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WIP Wednesday: TF&TS (Storm)

Here is a scene from an early chapter of a longfic I am working on.

Fanfic Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf survived the encounter with the Iron Shepherds, but a short time later, a spirit had begun hunting him, claiming that he stole his body. This Campaign 2 AU begins with Episode 26 and continues on from there.

This fanfic will be posted on AO3 starting on Friday 8/4.

⁂

Splatters of icy rain on his face stirred Molly awake. A frigid breeze drove the remaining drowsiness away in seconds.

Soft waves and rocking, creaking wood made clear that Molly was on a small boat despite of the lack of light. He blinked a few times to orient his sight, then sat up. He had been laying under a blanket in a rowboat, the oars pulled in beside him. Dark clouds roiled above, the barely perceptible texture indicating that they were constantly moving away, though they never seemed any further than they were before. The overpowering darkness was the only indication that it must be night.

No one in sight. No indication of nearby land.

Molly swallowed and pulled the blanket tight to stave off the cold. He searched the sky again, hoping for some indication of moonlight, but there were no gaps in the storm above. Pitch black water was only distinguishable from the sky by frothing waves. The rocking boat gave a vague indication of the strengthening current. Although the rain did not worsen, the waves grew in size and strength, pitching the boat mercilessly. Eventually, Molly cast off the blanket and shifted along the vessel to counterbalance so that it would not tip over.

Lightning suddenly erupted along the clouds—not blinding blue-white, but radiant and hypnotic. Molly could not help but stare as it spread through the sky like a growing spider web. It faded altogether before another strike did the same.

So Molly did not see the massive wave coming for the boat until it pitched sideways and capsized, flinging him down into the cold depths.

The churning current rolled Molly like a rag doll. It felt like an eternity spinning out of control. Eventually, it slowed enough that he could orient himself. However long that had taken, he had no trouble breathing. Radiance bloomed on one side, and darkness filled the other, providing a general indication of direction. He looked down to the murk to confirm he should swim the other way.

Another flash behind him. Silver eyes looked up at Molly from the dark below. They did not glow, but they clearly reflected the light from the surface. The lightning strike gave just enough illumination for him to discern a vaguely humanoid shape, long hair flowing in the water near the suddenly gleaming radiant eyes. The image rapidly disappeared into the dark. The figure turned away during another flash, swimming down toward the bottom another dozen or so feet down. Molly debated whether to follow when another burst of light reflected from something below, not silver eyes, but something tiny.

Curiosity tipped the scale.

Molly swam down, unconcerned with whether he had enough air to breathe, but he felt no urgency in his lungs. The figure below moved directly to the source of the other light, eventually turning to look at him again.

Just before the next lightning strike, the figure disappeared, leaving only whatever shone in the muck.

Molly hesitated a moment, checking all around him. Only shifting plant-life creating unnerving forests of shadow in the distance. Nothing to be wary of. He shook off the nerves and swam down to the same spot. After another few flashes, he spotted a small trinket in the mud, then pulled it out, wiping away the grime.

A silver flower bearing beautiful ruffled petals with black, irregular edges, spiraling into an emptied center in a fractal pattern. A tiny silver rod with a round tip extended from the middle. Molly shifted it in his hand to let the flower dangle.

Ting

Despite its small size and that it was underwater, the bell’s chime rang loudly, echoing slightly before it faded away. Molly simultaneously felt dread and security with the sound. Something was coming, but he was ready.

Two cold, slippery hands gripped Molly’s face from behind, claws settling atop his skin as slime oozed over them, and his own voice rang out.

“Wake up.”

* * *

Molly shot up, his pulse rushing as he woke, but he suddenly pitched to the side and collapsed onto the wooden floor below, landing painfully on one horn before he fell onto his back, legs tangled in some kind of fabric above him, his arms tangled in something else, and who knows what blocking his sight. After a brief struggle, Molly managed to unwrap himself from a blanket and out of the hammock he had fallen from. No harm done, though the base of his horn throbbed a bit from the impact.

A brief look around the ship’s quarters revealed that it was empty. Judging by the distant sounds of conversation above, it was probably already late into the morning or early afternoon. Molly could probably get a bit more sleep since they hadn’t sent anyone to fetch him, but he doubted he would get another wink.

Damnit. Another weird dream. At least it wasn’t horrifying like the last one. Just creepy.

Molly sucked in a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Could that have been another dream from the Moonweaver? It felt bigger like Caduceus said even though the moon wasn’t there. He had been in that rowboat from the last dream she had sent. Maybe he was supposed to find something. Or had that been a bad idea?

Once Molly got to his feet, he fished his cards out of his coat. He rapidly shuffled the entire deck—doing his best to ignore the tell-tale notches and bends—and focused on a question.

Moonweaver, was that you trying to tell me something?

That question seemed too basic as soon as the thought finished, but Molly had already pulled a card. Rather than Moon, he drew The Eye: an all-seeing eye in a swirl of wind and clouds. That half represented the divine inspiration, meditation, and higher realms. Opposite was The Hand, which represented practicality, work, and the Material Plane.

Was that a yes, then? At least, it seemed to confirm that the dream had a deeper meaning. Molly briefly went over it in his mind: he had been alone on a boat, there was a storm, the boat capsized, there was pretty lightning, someone swam down to a shiny thing at the bottom, Molly followed, whoever it was disappeared, he found a silver bell, and then someone grabbed him and told him to wake up.

Did that mean he was supposed to find a bell underwater? The Nein was going to search a sunken wreck for Fjord’s other ball (ha), not a bell. Maybe the bell was a symbol for something. What did bells symbolize?

Molly stared at the wall for a good while. He had no damn idea what a bell would symbolize. The carnival had used ropes with bells as alarms around their camps, but surely there were other uses. Zadash had a clock tower, so maybe time? He was not sure how he would find an alarm or time buried on the sea floor.

Damnit. Molly rubbed at the base of his horns, warding off a headache. He should have asked a better question—not that he could think of another just now. Or at least drawn a card that offered a straightforward confirmation or denial. Come to think of it, his deck did not really have a card that would provide a simple yes or no. He could make one, but then again, that seemed like an easy out instead of interpreting fortunes properly. That idea distracted Molly as he looked at the card. A curious thought was swiftly buried in the back of his mind beneath the combined confusion and anxiety.

Of all the colors, why had he painted the all-seeing eye red?

#wip wednesday #TF&TS #critical role fanfiction #mollymauk tealeaf

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jellicle-shifters-au · 1 year ago

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The Red Molly

for Demelurina Week Day 1: First Meetings

She runs.

She runs and runs and runs until she thinks her heart is going to give out, but she keeps running. She doesn’t know where she is, how far she’s come, how much farther she has to go or where she’s going, but she keeps running. The ground under her paws turns from grass to dirt to concrete to asphalt to dirt to concrete again faster than she knows what to do with—she doesn’t take in the details—and then for a while it’s hard concrete and it turns to asphalt again, and then she’s climbing up a fence—where did that come from? it doesn’t matter—she’s climbing up the fence, she’s climbing down the fence, or maybe she’s falling she doesn’t know the ground turns to rocky dirt under her paws, she’s still running and somewhere in her adrenaline-fueled rush she spies a old sewer pipe and bolts into it, the concrete smooth and cold under her paws—

—she collapses.

Her cat form falls away in a rush of air, her vision turns black, and she comes to in human form, grimey and hungry and thin and exhausted, her heart pounding in her ears, struggling to catch her breath, struggling to keep herself alive long enough to calm herself down, she’s never run this far this fast, she hasn’t moved this quickly this much in months—

Demeter shudders, coughs, watches the red pipe turned purple with moonlight fade in and out of her vision, listens to her heart race in her ears, wonders when it’s going to stop, when she’s going to see the Everlasting Cat or if She’s going to be merciful enough to let her live through this—does she want to? Macavity isn’t going to let her go so easily once he realizes she’s gone—but she wants to, she wants to live, she hasn’t survived seven months at the hands of Macavity and his rats just to drop dead in a concrete pipe somewhere in the middle of nowhere—

“What was that?”

“Something’s in the Yard—”

“Do you smell that?”

“Macavity!”

Demeter’s heart thuds all over again, her adrenaline spikes back up—did he follow her? did the rats follow her? how could they have known so quickly no one was up when she left, she can’t go back she can’t go back—

—there are voices in the junkyard, and it is a junkyard, she can make out the shadows of piles of trash and whatever else there might be, and now that she breathes in heavily she smells them, other cats, other shifters, other people like her—

No, no—

The warning cry goes up among the other cats—other cats, Everlasting, there’s so many, there’s so many—

—no no no no—

—she can’t, she can’t do this again, she can’t do it, nothing good has ever come from other shifters, Macavity turned on her, what’s to stop these cats from doing the same—

I won’t go back I won’t go back I won’t go back

She bares her teeth with a soft hiss as the shadows dance over the fence just outside the pipe.

“Where?”

“Can’t you smell it?”

“Over there!”

“I smell him.”

“Rats. I smell rats.”

“Cat—”

“Over here—”

They’re coming closer. There’s a shuffle of paws, claws scuffing against metal and concrete, soft hisses, concerned mewls from younger cats who don’t know better—

Demeter shuffles further back in the pipe, she won’t go back she won’t go backshewon’tgobackshewon’tgoback—

won’tgobackwon’tgobackwon’t—

can’t—

she’ll die if she goes back, they’ll kill her, they’ll kill her if she goes back

i don’t want to die—

The moonlight shining into the pipe is cut by a feline shape, a large red head that appears in the entrance of the pipe. The feline shape morphs into a human one, and a woman with vibrant red hair slung over one shoulder in a neat braid blinks at her.

Demeter curls in on herself, hissing at the woman with everything she has, baring her teeth, tears stinging her eyes, she can’t go back she can’t go back—

Get away! Get away from me!

But the woman doesn’t move, why doesn’t she move?

Demeter hisses again.

She’s so tired. Everlasting Cat, she’s so tired. She’s exhausted, she can’t keep going like this, she can’t keep this up. This woman is stronger than she is, healthier, fitter, she can overpower Demeter easily if she wants to, why won’t she try?

But, instead of reaching into the pipe and dragging Demeter out by her ankles, the woman’s face softens, taking in Demeter’s ragged, emaciated form, and makes a sound that sounds like a whispered, “Oh…”

Other cats gather around beyond the woman, paws thumping on the pipe, scuffing in the dirt, all trying to get a look at the stranger who smells like Macavity but isn’t. Demeter snarls, hisses, shows her fangs as much as she can, anything to get these cats away from her.

“What is it, Bomba?” someone asks, someone young, judging by the sound of their voice.

“Is it Macavity?”

“Is it his rats?”

“Is it rats?”

“What is it?”

“That doesn’t smell like Macavity…”

“No,” the woman staring at Demeter says, her voice still soft, but loud enough for the others to hear her. “Not Macavity.” She sighs softly and leans back to look over her shoulder at the gathered cats just outside Demeter’s range of vision. “A victim.” She looks back into the pipe; Demeter hisses at her again, but she’s running out of breath, this pipe is too small, too tight, she can’t breathe, she can’t breathe

Go away! Go away!

A black-and-white head appears at the woman’s side, others loiter around closer behind her; Demeter screeches—

GO AWAY! GET AWAY FROM ME!

I WON’T GO BACK DON’T TOUCH ME

The woman pulls her hand down from the top of the pipe and holds it out behind her with a hissed order. Demeter watches, her heart racing, fighting for breath, her fangs still out and bared, as the cats behind the woman slowly back away until she can’t see them anymore.

“Check the perimeter,” she says, firmly, but softly, her voice never rising. “Make sure no one’s followed her.”

“And you?” someone asks.

“I’ll stay with her.”

Demeter lets out a strained, breathless whine. They could have, couldn’t they? They could have followed her here, they could have tracked her scent all the way from the Stern Estate to wherever this is, wherever she’s found herself, and they could fight these cats to get her back, they could, they would, Macavity wasn’t done with her yet—

Nine months—

The cats shuffle away, one by one, in pairs, in threes, Demeter doesn’t know but she hears them move away, the scuffing on the pipe, in the dirt, over the fence—

Then the woman—molly—turns back to her, after she’s watched them all disperse to her satisfaction, and sighs again. “I’m so sorry, love,” she says. Her voice is soft and smooth, her words rounded with a gentle accent.

Demeter hisses at her, softer this time. Her adrenaline is wearing off. The exhaustion is setting back in. She whimpers.

The molly opens her mouth to speak, then pauses, considers something for a moment, takes a breath and smiles gently. “My name is Bombalurina,” she says. “Our kind calls me Bomba. The humans call me Rina.”

Demeter doesn’t say anything, but stares at her. She hisses half-heartedly.

“I know, love,” Bombalurina says. “I know you’re afraid. You’re safe now, I promise.”

She hunkers deeper into the pipe, scanning the area behind Bombalurina. There aren’t any other cats around, not that she can see, but that doesn’t mean they’re not lurking around somewhere. Am I?

“I promise,” Bombalurina repeats. She looks over her shoulder. “They’re gone, love. It’s just us.”

Demeter nods. Okay…Okay… And finally lays her head down on the floor of the pipe, her exhaustion finally catching up to her. I’ll stay until you’re ready to leave, Bombalurina whispers, and it’s the last thing Demeter hears before she slips into darkness.

#bombalurina #demeter #demelurina #demelurina week #cats the musical #cats 1998 #shapeshifter au #hoping for a brighter day: demeter

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thelastarchive · 2 years ago

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At the feet of the Red Bull there lay a young girl, spilled into a very small heap of light and shadow. She was naked, and her skin was the color of snow by moonlight. Fine tangled hair, white as a waterfall, came down almost to the small of her back. Her face was hidden in her arms.

Molly Grue had taken the white girl's head onto her lap, and was whispering over and over, "What have you done?" The girl's face, quiet in sleep and close to smiling, was the most beautiful that Schmendrick had ever seen. It hurt him and warmed him at the same time. Molly smoothed the strange hair, and Schmendrick noticed on the forehead, above and between the closed eyes, a small, raised mark, darker than the rest of the skin. It was neither a scar nor a bruise. It looked like a flower.

- Ch.7, The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle

#the last unicorn #peter s beagle #quotes

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impulsivewcrewrite · 1 month ago

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Chapter 24: An Unusual Warrior

< Chapter 23 | ToC | Epilogue >

As they walked through the forests, the mood lightened. Juniper kept everyone very entertained with her fantastical retelling of the kidnapping. Obviously, she had been in control the entire time, and could’ve easily freed herself at any moment. Even Rusty found himself chuckling at her exaggerations.

Before they even got to camp, Frost came bounding towards them. She snatched Thorn from Pebbles and began furiously licking his fur. Between licks, she scolded him for letting his fur get so muddy.

It was a joyful reunion in camp. Even Bloom looked relieved. “You found them!”

“And without a scratch on them,” added Willow proudly. “All thanks to Pebbles’s courage.”

Beside him, Pebbles rolled his eyes at his mom. “And Rusty’s!” he reminded her.

“We couldn’t have done it without the Mog’s help,” Rusty mewed bashfully.

From the back of the crowd, the Mog stood up. “ShadowColony is a shadow of itself. But I know they will recover.”

Bloom dipped her head. “Wise words. As a full member of ThunderColony, I wish to remove your name and restore you to your old name. I say these words before StarColony-”

“Bloom, with all respect, just call me Moggy,” Moggy rasped. “I’ve gotten so used to it. My old name is dead.”

Looking startled, Bloom regained her composure. “As you wish.” But an aura of confusion still hung around her. “Where is Raven?”

With a glance at Pebbles, Rusty stepped forward, bowing his head. “Before we got to ShadowColony, Raven was called by StarColony on a mission. I don’t know when he will return, but I do know StarColony walks with him.” After his words, he snuck a glance at Patches, Raven’s father, expecting any reaction. But none came. Did Patches even care about his own son?

Any further discussion was cut off by a meow from Tiger. The deputy climbed onto High rock, eyes on Frost and her family. “Bloom, if I may, I would like to name Shine, Bracken, Thorn, and Juniper as honorary warriors for the evening, and allow them to sleep in the warrior’s den, for their courage.”

The kits gasped in awe, then excitedly began talking amongst themselves. Rusty smiled. This would soften the night’s events in their minds. Hopefully. Rusty was no psychologist.

“Well spoken, Tiger,” the leader purred. She bowed low to the kits. “It is an honor to be among such brave souls.”

Despite the joy, Rocky, Pigeon, and Wren looked at each other awkwardly. The WindColony kits had walked most of the way home, and had promptly fallen asleep on the camp floor. Tiger refused to acknowledge the visitors, but Bloom padded over to them, smiling warmly.

“Welcome to ThunderColony. I assume these are the stolen kits?” she asked calmly.

“Yes,” Pigeon mewed, biting back tears.

“They can stay here until WindColony is returned,” Bloom said. “I believe there should be some extra nests in the herb den you can sleep in.”

As they shuffled away, Willow stopped Bloom.

“You know, the apprentices tonight fought very bravely,” the gray molly told Bloom. Then she gave Bloom a very exaggerated wink.

“It’s true,” added Snowstorm. Rusty sat upright.

“Well then, I suppose it’s time we honor them,” the leader mewed, turning and leaping up onto the High rock. The pale moonlight made her shine like the Moonstone. “Rusty? Pebbles? Do you two promise to uphold the warrior’s code, protect, and defend the Colony, even at the cost of your lives? Do you promise to stand for what is right, and live with honor at all times?”

“I do!” Pebbles cheered.

This was it. Everything in Rusty’s life had led to this moment. But he hesitated. Was he really ready for this? To be a warrior of ThunderColony? His mind drifted back to the night Ruddy died. It was like a fire was lit inside of him, showing him his purpose in life. He would be a warrior, and protect ThunderColony while Ruddy couldn’t. Locking eyes with Bloom, Rusty gave a small nod. “I do, Star Bloom.”

“Then by the powers within me, I grant you warrior status. Pebbles, we recognize your humor and strength, and I welcome you as a warrior of ThunderColony,” the leader leapt down and touched her muzzle to Pebbles’s head. When he had first met them, Pebbles had been almost half Bloom’s size. But now, he was almost her height.

Turning to Rusty, she touched her muzzle to his head. “Rusty, I grant you warrior status. We recognize your compassion and courage, and I welcome you as a warrior of ThunderColony.” As she stepped back, she smiled warmly at him.

Around him, the Colony began to chant the names of the two new warriors. “Rusty! Pebbles! Rusty! Pebbles!”

As he looked around the Colony, Rusty felt pride swell inside of him. How could Smudge think of them as brutes? Rusty had so much love in his heart for every member of ThunderColony. He would die for them, and he knew any of them would die for him.

Well, except for one. He locked eyes with Tiger. Just like their first encounter, Tiger’s eyes were two tiny pinpricks of burning hate. But this time, Rusty stared back unafraid. He was a warrior now, with StarColony on his side. Rusty wasn’t the same naive kittypet that had waltzed into the woods, he was a true warrior now, with the skills to prove it. While he may have made an enemy of Tiger, Tiger had made an enemy of Rusty! And Rusty was ready to challenge him. Everything he had promised, he intended to keep. And if that meant being Tiger’s enemy, then Rusty would challenge the deputy. For Ruddy’s sake.

#warrior cats rewrite #red fire au #warriors rewrite #red fire into the wild

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talonslockau · 11 months ago

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Fire and Ice - Chapter 25

Chapter 24 || Index || Chapter 26

Firepaw tore through the forest, his legs guiding him back to camp as fast as he could run. He had left the Gathering just as Shadowclan had departed, not hanging around to hear what Bluestar and Crookedstar had to say. There was no time; he had to let Yellowfang know what was coming!

After what seemed like eons, he finally reached the edge of the ravine. Glancing up, he could see the moon was just past its height and was beginning to set. He must have just missed the second night patrol and the return of the first patrol. Below, he could scent Dustleap on duty, alert for any signs of an intruder.

He slipped silently down the slope to the bramble entrance, slinking his way in and keeping to the shadows as much as he could. As he entered, he could see the brown tabby tom sitting by the warriors' den, his eyes searching for any movement in camp. Suddenly, Snowkit cried out from the nursery, startling Dustleap out of his vigil; he padded over to the nursery, talking to someone within. Firepaw took advantage of the distraction to hurry across camp, slipping into the healer's den.

Inside, it was dark, but he could easily make out Yellowfang's form inside her nest. "Yellowfang! Wake up!" He hissed, prodding at her still form. "It's important!"

Two copper eyes suddenly shimmered to life. "I wasn't sleeping." Yellowfang whispered, raising her broad head to look Firepaw in the eye. "You came straight from the Gathering to me, hmm? That must mean Brokenstar kept his promise."

Firepaw hesitated, slowly lowering his paw. "His promise?" He echoed in confusion. He had come to warn Yellowfang, but it seemed she had already known.

"When I left Shadowclan with the elders, I promised Brokenstar that Starclan would not let this go unpunished." Her eyes were downcast as she spoke, recalling distant memories. "And he promised that as long as we lived, we would find no peace in Clan territory."

He watched her breathing hitch as she recalled the leader's words. "But why would he do that?" He asked with a frown. "If he just wanted you all gone, why would he care if Thunderclan or Riverclan took you in?"

Yellowfang snorted as if in laughter, but he could see by the flash of pain in her eyes that his question had touched a sore spot. "Because he fears what the other Clans would do if they knew he no longer follows the code." She growled, claws flexing in and out in her moss. "If they believe the elders’ story, that Shadowclan is no longer following the warrior code, what retaliation will the other Clans bring? Brokenstar needs control. That which he cannot control…"

"He destroys." Firepaw remembered the fear that had pervaded the Gathering after Shadowclan threatened to drive out all the Clans. "Windclan refused to be controlled by another Clan, and were chased away. The elders refused to allow Brokenstar to forgo the warrior code, and were exiled. And you-"

"I posed an unacceptable threat to his leadership." Yellowfang spat. "Healers serve Starclan, not the leader like every other cat in the Clan. I would not bow to him, and he knew that." She sighed and looked up at the crack in the roof of the cave that let in a small amount of moonlight. "So he got rid of me to cover his tracks."

He tilted his head in confusion at her words. "To cover his tracks?" He inquired quietly.

The old molly shook her head. "Nevermind that. Surely you've realized by now why I wanted you to go to the Gathering." She studied him intently. "I knew I could trust you to tell me the truth."

Firepaw blinked in surprise. "That's why you wanted me to go?"

Yellowfang dipped her head. "Indeed. Over this past moon, I have seen your heart. Even in the face of great strife, you show compassion and loyalty." He thought he heard a slight purr in her voice, but it was hard to say for sure. "And I was right. The moment you thought I was in danger, you came running."

He didn't know how to feel about that admission. Part of him felt dirty, being used as a mere pawn in her plans. But he also understood why she had done it; given Brokenstar's plotting, she was trying to save both her life and the lives of the Shadowclan elders she had chosen to protect.

"So what did he say about me, then?" The healer interrupted his thoughts, fixing him with a penetrating stare. "Only good things, I can assume." She added dryly, giving him a toothy smirk.

The apprentice hesitated. "He said you killed several kits." He finally admitted, looking back towards camp. The Gathering patrol hadn't returned yet, but he knew that time was running out. "You and the elders, anyways. The way Tigerclaw was acting when I left… I think they believed Brokenstar."

Yellowfang regarded him carefully. "And what do you believe?" She asked.

He paused and considered it. "The elders are ornery, but they seem to believe in the warrior code as much as we do. And a couple of them are former queens themselves. None of them would defend a kit-killer." He finally shook his head. "No, I think they're innocent, and so are you. But as long as the others think you aren't-"

"If you believe I'm innocent, then others will as well." Yellowfang interrupted him, her voice steady and calm. "My leg is broken, Firepaw. Even if I did run, I would not go far before your warriors caught me, and I would only look guilty in the eyes of the Clan. No," She finished with a heavy sigh, "I will stay and await my fate with honor."

He could hear voices beyond the camp walls as the Gathering patrol finally returned. He could hear several of them that sounded angry - furious, even. "But, Yellowfang-"

"Go, Firepaw." She hissed, nudging him away with her nose. "Don't make trouble for yourself by being seen with me now. You have done all you can for me. Trust in your leader and your Clan as you trust in my innocence."

He hesitated, not wanting to leave her to the wrath of Tigerclaw. But she was right; even if he supported her, there was no way they could hobble all the way to Tallpines before the Clan caught up. "Alright, Yellowfang." He whispered, touching his nose to her forehead. "Please be safe."

With that, he crept to the entrance of the healer's den. Dustleap was focused on the entrance, waiting for the coming patrol and oblivious to the rest of camp. Quickly, Firepaw slipped out, making his way into the shadows behind the elders' den as he waited for the patrol to arrive.

They streamed into camp, the warriors first. Immediately, Dustleap rushed to greet them, soon followed by several warriors as they emerged from their den. As Pepperpaw entered, Firepaw slipped up beside her. "Did anyone miss me?" He asked her quietly.

"No one but us apprentices." She whispered as Graypaw and Ravenpaw joined them. "They were too focused on what Brokenstar said. Did you leave to warn Yellowfang?"

He nodded slightly, not wanting to alert the warriors around them. "She wouldn't move. She said she trusts Bluestar." He replied quickly, glancing towards the healer's den. "I just hope-"

A loud screech rang out across camp as Tigerclaw dragged Yellowfang out, a ball of writhing gray fury. "Let go of me!" She spat, trying her best to get out of the giant warrior's grasp.

"Silence!" Bluestar leaped up onto the Highrock, her tail bristling furiously as she glared down at the scene unfolding in camp. "What is going on? I gave no order to attack our guests."

Dappleshine burst out of the nursery, her own fur on end. "We got back just in time!" She called out to the other warriors. "Snowkit and Speckleflight are unharmed."

"Of course they are." Bluestar snapped. "Why wouldn't they be? Do you not trust Dustleap to guard the camp? Or Frostfur the nursery?"

Dappleshine blinked as she glanced at Yellowfang. "But- Brokenstar said-"

"Brokenstar said much at the Gathering. Would you trust his word over that of your leader?" Bluestar fixed the senior warrior with a cold stare. "Let her go, Tigerclaw. That is an order."

After several tense heartbeats, Tigerclaw released the healer, causing her to fall into a heap at his feet. After a moment she stood, backing away from him as she looked warily around camp, her entire pelt bristling.

"Let us face the true threat to Thunderclan; Brokenstar." Bluestar gazed over all those assembled, her eyes lingering on Firepaw. A chill ran through him as he realized his absence may have been noticed by more than just the apprentices. "He has exiled elders, driven out Windclan, and broken the code many times since becoming leader. It is clear that he seeks to rid the forest of evidence of his crimes by making us get rid of the elders for him." She turned her attention briefly back to Dappleshine and Tigerclaw. "We must stand strong against his treachery."

There was silence for several heartbeats before the silver molly continued. "Crookedstar has agreed that in the face of this new threat, fighting each other for territory would only weaken our defenses. For the time being, until Brokenstar is dealt with, we have agreed to a temporary truce regarding our borders. While this means we will not be reclaiming Sunningrocks for some time," She paused to allow the warriors to mutter discontent to each other, "it does mean that we will be able to present a united front against Shadowclan."

"It sucks that we have to give up Sunningrocks because of Brokenstar." Graypaw muttered to the other apprentices. "Riverclan will be lording that over us for a while yet."

Firepaw shrugged as Bluestar continued. "For the next quarter-moon, we will continue with the usual patrol schedule, and if Riverclan upholds their end of the truce, reduce to one daily patrol on the Riverclan border. Hopefully that will alleviate some of the strain on our warriors and apprentices."

This was an announcement that was well received. All of the warriors were stretched thin by this point, rarely getting a full night or day to rest with all the demands on them. Even though Firepaw was on less patrols due to his hunting duties, he was just as appreciative as the rest of them.

"So we won't be agreeing to Brokenstar's demands?" Tigerclaw asked, casting a disdainful look towards Yellowfang, as though he still itched to get his claws into Shadowclan fur.

"Sharing hunting grounds is against the warrior code." Bluestar growled defiantly. "Brokenstar wants us to share in his depravity, but we will not turn our backs on our oaths to the code and Starclan." She stood proudly as she looked down upon her warriors, who sat up straighter at her words. "We will stand against Brokenstar knowing that Starclan themselves are on our side. We are prepared where Windclan was not. No matter what happens, we will fight."

"Hear, hear!" Lionheart rumbled from beside Halftail and Sandstorm. "We'll show them that Thunderclan aren't to be underestimated!"

Bluestar dipped her head with a small smirk at her warrior's words. "I am glad to hear it. I could not be more proud of each and every warrior in this Clan." She dipped her head gracefully and turned to leap off the rock. "Meeting dismissed!"

With her dismissal, the Clan cats began huddling into tight groups, discussing the events of the Gathering with each other. The apprentices headed for their own den, only to be met with a sleepy Cinderpaw and wide-eyed Dewpaw.

"What happened at the Gathering?" Dewpaw asked in a whisper, as though afraid that if she spoke louder Shadowclan would hear her. "Did Brokenstar really threaten to drive us out?"

"He told the Clans that if they didn't agree to share their hunting grounds, he would." Firepaw replied grimly, still eyeing Yellowfang as she limped back to her den. "He also said that Yellowfang and the elders murdered kits, and that's why he exiled them."

"How awful!" Dewpaw shivered at his explanation. "And Windclan-"

"Is gone." Pepperpaw answered before she could finish her question. "Brokenstar admitted it. Claimed he made the same proposal to Windclan, but they refused." She shook her head with a sigh. "But I- Ravenpaw? Where are you going?"

The dark apprentice froze in place as all of those gathered turned their attention to him, where he had been trying to slip into the den. "Oh, I-I'm just a bit tired after all the excitement. I didn't mean to disturb you." He stammered quickly.

"Yea, but…" She trailed off as he disappeared beneath the ferns.

"Do you think Tigerclaw was telling the truth?" Firepaw hissed to her, glancing over his shoulder to see the dark tabby talking to Longtail, Dustleap, and Sandstorm. "That Ravenpaw made all that up?"

Pepperpaw hesitated. "I don't know. His story doesn't make sense with what Tigerclaw told us, but…" she paused, searching for the right words. "He seemed so sincere about it, right? Like he really believed what he was saying."

"What story?" Cinderpaw spoke up a little too loudly, attracting the stares of several in camp.

"Shh! Not so loud!" Firepaw and Pepperpaw whispered at the same time, scooting in closer to the other siblings.

"Are you talking about the one he was telling the Riverclan apprentices about the Sunningrocks battle?" Graypaw asked with a tilt of his head. "How didn't it make sense? It seemed alright to me."

Firepaw glanced over his shoulder to where Tigerclaw was now watching them. "We'll talk about it later, okay? When we can ask Ravenpaw about it." He murmured to the others. "For now, just act casually about it, okay?"

Graypaw glanced between his friend and his sister, his brow knit in confusion "If you say so…" He agreed slowly, flicking his ear uncertainly.

"We do." Pepperpaw affirmed, looking to Firepaw before looking back to her sister with a small smile. "Hey, Graypaw, why don't you tell Cinderpaw about how you impressed Stonestep?"

"You did what?" Cinderpaw's shriek echoed through camp as she leaped to her paws, once again drawing the attention of several warriors. "Stonestep? Really? The greatest warrior in Riverclan, after his dad?"

"Settle down, you'll wake everyone up!" Graypaw scolded his sister as he sat back, his look of confusion changing to a smug grin. "But it's true, Stonestep liked me! We had a conversation and everything."

Firepaw tuned out their excited chatter to look at Tigerclaw again. Even as he spoke with Longtail and his children, he kept his amber gaze steadily on the gathered apprentices, ears alert. It was clear he was on edge about Ravenpaw's story, but why? If it was just a fanciful story, surely it wouldn't matter what the apprentices said about it?

Unless, Firepaw realized, Ravenpaw had been telling the truth. But if he had, then that meant his father had lied. But why? For what reason would the great warrior lie? The Clan would support him no matter what happened. Had it been to protect Ravenpaw, or make them look better?

Or had it been something more sinister?

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warrior-cats-rewritten · 1 year ago

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Into The Wild - Prologue

Nutmeg groaned as labor pains shot through her. She knew she was having a large litter, but she certainly wished the kits would stop taking their time! Her tiny kittens that had already been born were being lovingly cleaned by her owners.

"Tommy." One of them said, holding her oldest, a tiny brown tom with white paws. "Luna, and Filou." They spoke softly, holding a small pair. Luna was a brown and ginger molly, with Filou being pale ginger, not unlike his father, Jake.

Another shudder, another kit either Nutmeg was losing her mind or this was getting tad easier. An owner scooped it up gently and cleaned it after she set Filou and Luna at Nutmeg's belly beside Tommy. "Another girl... So precious..." The owner cooed. A tiny pale brown tabby molly with a white chest and white paws. "Princess." They named her.

Suddenly, Nutmeg's vision went dark as the pains intensified. What's going on? She thought as her eyes closed. Scents of the outside world flooded in, as if the forest that lay beyond her garden was all around her.

There, stood tall and proud on a high rock, fur looking like a brand of silvery fire in the light of the full moon, was... Her son? Nutmeg felt a strong pull to the tom. Yes, he had to be her son. His flame coloured coat, so vibrant against to darkness like a real flame, his head held high with shining green eyes that held warmth, trust and gentleness... Nutmeg called out to him. "Son? Little one? It's me, your mother!" She called out, over and over, but he was too far away, he couldn't hear a thing she said...

...

"It's okay, Nutmeg, all done... So good, kitty." Her owners rubbed her side gently, and placed the final kitten down. She hadn't even realized she had given birth to another. Her eyes widened when she saw the tiny tom, his fur the colour of a bright flame. Her heart ached as she bent her neck to lick at him, hoping that he was alright.

Please let him be okay...

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The light of the half moon shone down on the smooth boulders, turning them silver. The night quiet was only broken by the whispering ripple of water from the calm, dark river, and the gentle rustle of leaves from the forest around.

Movement stirred in the shadows. From all around the boulders, lithe, dark shapes moved slowly over the rocks, the forest air was charged with tension. Unsheathed claws glinted bright in the moonlight.

Pale amber eyes flashed with wariness. With the flick of a tail, they all leapt at one another, the silver rocks turning to a swarm of screeching, wrestling cats.

At the center of the swarm, around the frenzied claws, a massive dark brown tabby had a dark reddish-brown tom pinned to the stones. He raised his head in triumph.

"I didn't realize you were an idiot, Oakheart!" The tabby snarled down. "How dare you hunt on our territory?! Sunningrocks belongs to Thunderclan!"

"After tonight, Tigerclaw," Oakheart spat, "this will be Riverclan's land to hunt on as we please!"

A yowl of warning sounded from the shore, shrill and full of anxiety. "Look out! More Riverclan warriors! They're coming!"

Tigerclaw turned and watched as the Riverclan cats sliding out of the water silently onto the rocks. The sleek, drenched cats bounded silently up to the shore hurled themselves into the fray without stopping even for a moment to shake the water out of their fur.

Tigerclaw glared down at Oakheart. "You may swim like otters, but you and your fish breathed warriors don't belong in this forest!" He curled his lips and and showed his teeth as Oakheart struggled beneath him.

A frightened scream from a Thunderclan molly distracted him. A wiry RiverClan molly had pinned his clanmate flat on her belly, pummeling her flanks with their back feet. The wiry molly, Emberdawn, now lunged toward her neck with jaws wide open, still dripping with cold river water.

Tigerclaw made his choice, and let Oakheart go. With a powerful leap, he knocked the enemy warrior off of his brown tabby clanmate. "Quickly, Mousefur, get out of here!" He ordered, before turning on the Riverclan cat who'd been attacking her.

Mousefur scrambled onto her feet and dashed off, wincing from the wounds on her flanks and the gash on her shoulder.

Behind her, Tigerclaw was spitting fury as the Riverclan molly sliced the bridge of his nose open. His own blood blinded him for an instant, but he still pushed forward, sinking his into her leg. Emberdawn squealed loudly, and struggled away, fleeing into the river.

"Tigerclaw!" A yowl came from his left, from a tom with a bushy red tail. "This is useless, there's just too many Riverclan warriors!"

"No, Redtail! I refuse!" Tigerclaw snapped at him, batting away a blue-gray tom and clawing his ear. "Thunderclan doesn't lose, we won't be beaten!" He jumped over to Redtail's side. Blood was dribbling down his large, scarred muzzle and he shook his head in anger, scattering the drops onto the silver rocks. "This is our territory! You-"

"Thunderclan honours your courage, Tigerclaw, but we cannot lose warriors over this." Redtail urged, his amber eyes desperate. "Bluestar wouldn't ever expect us to fight against these impossible odds. You'll get your chance, we will avenge this defeat." He met Tigerclaw’s gaze steadily for a heartbeat before Redtail reared away and leaped effortlessly onto a further boulder at the edge of the trees.

"Thunderclan! Retreat!" Redtail yowled out. The rest of Thunderclan struggled free from their opponents, spitting and hissing as they backed away to stand with Redtail. The Riverclan cats looked confused as they watched, victory was not usually achieved this easily. Oakheart broke the silence with a victory yowl.

Only moments after, the rest of the Riverclan warriors joined him, caterwauling their victory over the highly contested Sunningrocks.

His gaze sympathetic, Redtail flicked his paw outwards, signaling for everyone to head back. The defeated Thunderclan warriors slunk back into trees and shadows away from Sunningrocks.

Tigerclaw followed last, rage burning inside him as he glances back over at the bloody rocks and smug Riverclan cats, his pupils narrowed into slits. With a deep growl, he followed his clan back into the silent forest.

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In a sandy ravine clearing, a blue-gray molly stared up at the half moon. All around her, was the comforting sounds of sleeping cats, breathing softly and snoring, with the occasional sleepy stretch as a cat rolled over in their nest.

A small tortoiseshell padded up towards her, her footsteps silent on the soft ground.

The blue-gray molly dipped her head in greeting. "How is Mousefur doing?"

"Her wounds are deep, but nothing she can't bounce back from. She'll be quite happy when they scar over, Mousefur always said she wanted some battle scars." She answered, but added in a more soothing tone, "She's okay, Bluestar. She's young, and strong, she'll heal quickly."

"And the others?"

"They'll all recover too."

Bluestar let out a sigh she didn't know she'd been holding in. "We're lucky to not have lost any warriors, this time. You are a gifted medicine cat, Spottedleaf, though this many patients cannot be easy for any cat..." She tilted her head again, studying the stars.

"Are you alright, Bluestar? What's on your mind?" Spottedleaf asked, nudging the leader with her paw.

"I am deeply troubled by our defeat, tonight. Thunderclan has not lost a battle on its own territory since I became its leader." Bluestar murmured. "These have been difficult times for our clan. Newleaf is late, fewer kits have been born, and these warriors aren't getting any younger... Thunderclan needs fresh blood if it is to survive."

"Remember though, the year is only just beginning." Spottedleaf pointed out calmly. "More kits will come in Greenleaf, I can feel it."

Bluestar tilted her head, watching the stars glitter silently above. "Perhaps. But training young cats into warriors takes time. It can't be rushed, but if Thunderclan is to defend its borders, it must have new warriors..."

"Looking to Starclan for answers?" Mewed Spottedleaf, following Bluestar's line of sight up into the darkness, towards the great swath of stars twinkling above.

"In times like this, all we can do is ask our ancestors for their wisdom." Bluestar replied. "Have Starclan spoken to you at all?"

"Not for some moons, Bluestar." Spottedleaf admitted, but just as she was about to hang her head and sigh, a shooting star blazed through the sky. Spottedleaf's tail twitched and the fur along her spine bristled as her body went rigid, her mouth open and eyes wide.

Bluestar's ears pricked and her icy blue eyes widened in fright, but she remained still as Spottedleaf's dark amber eyes continued to stare at the shooting star.

After a few minutes, Spottedleaf stood up and turned her head towards Bluestar. "That was a message from Starclan." A distant look swept over the smaller molly. "Fire alone can save our Clan."

Bluestar narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Fire? Fire..." She echoed, before shaking her head. "Fire is feared by all cats! How could it save us?"

Spottedleaf tilted her head in thought. "That I don't know." She admitted. "But that was the message Starclan have chosen to give to me."

The Thunderclan leader took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on the young medicine cat. "You have never been wrong before, Spottedleaf." She mewed, calming her own nerves. "If Starclan have spoken, it must be so. Fire will save our Clan."

#warrior cats #warrior cats rewrite #wcr #warriors #nutmeg wc #rusty wc #tigerclaw #redtail #spottedleaf #bluestar

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elisedonut · 6 months ago

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New Fic drop!

This time from the HP RarePair server "What are the odds?" Flash Comp

The whole like gimmick for this one was that you had 20 randomised ships to choose from

so I ended up choosing Lavender Brown/Arthur Weasley

Did i mostly pick them because I had already been writing Lavender a lot recently? yeah I still really like it alot though!!

I even managed to win an award c:

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lavender Brown/Arthur Weasley Characters: Lavender Brown, Arthur Weasley Additional Tags: Mentioned Ron Weasley, Mentioned Molly Weasley, Lavender Brown Lives, Half-blood Lavender Brown, Post-Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Crushes, Pining, Dreams, Getting to Know Each Other, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Possibly Unrequited Crush, DILF Arthur Weasley, Food Summary:

Lavender had never been much of a daddy's girl but she’s really starting to think that she could be.

#lavender brown #arthur weasley #Lavender Brown/Arthur Weasley #hp fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp rarepairs #hp rare pairs

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dent-de-leon · 1 year ago

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“Tell me a story?” Molly murmurs, sinking into his throne of moth-eaten cloaks and fraying blankets, burying himself in the tattered scraps of a dead empire.

His goddess hums, alighting gracefully beside him amidst the crawling shadows, a welcome presence in the encroaching darkness. Pinpricks of shimmering starlight in the pitch black night.

“And what kind of story should I tell, for one who has lived so many lives, played every part?”

“One from where you’re from,” he says at once. One that ends happily, he doesn’t say. For her stories all ached with the same twinge of heartfelt melancholy, longing echoes of the most bittersweet, happy memory.

Her fey nature reflects in her gleaming eyes and impish grin, the all too knowing, sharp-toothed smile as she leans in. Dark, ink black eyes swirling with galaxies, glistening with distant stars. Her hair cascading down in waves of rippling tides, ever drifting in the still winter night.

“Well stranger, since you asked so nicely--perhaps," she laughs, a ghostly echo of circus nights under the starlight. Bubbling over with infectious warmth and joy, merry song and dance. As sweet as the decadent taste of Lionett wine.

“Stranger”—she teases, toys. A conspiratorial whisper, mischievous and coy. For she has known him all his life, since long before he ever knew himself. She says it like a compliment, terribly fond of the otherworldly and enigmatic, enamored with the novelty of strangeness itself. He’s bizarre, unexpected, unprecedented. It keeps her interested, invested—she knew what it was like to be a stranger too, he thinks. Cast out and left to roam in her own little world. Captivating in all her whirlwind chaos and witching hour mischief, a heart as wild and free as his own.

And Mollymauk has always loved an audience.

"Once upon a time," she says, recites--and Molly mouths along to the words of her dreamy, starry-eyed voice, knowing every line by heart. Some part of him latches onto the scarred memory of a cozy caravan and warm campfire, running lines to the accompaniment of Father's lute. The soft, sure voice of his brother and birdsong of sister's laughter, Mother idly plucking at the strings of a scavenged harp.

"Once upon a time," the goddess of moonlight and love softly sighed, "There was a King who died--"

#mollymauk #thinking again of molly and moonweaver thoughts and begging for taliesin to play king and give us a tealeaf and sehanine solstice scene--#also yes the last line is absolutely a self indulgent reference--

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thistledown-au-warriors · 1 year ago

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fire and ice - chapter 25

Chapter 24 || Index || Chapter 26

RiverClan and ShadowClan had not yet arrived, but WindClan was already there. Tall Tail greeted Blue Fur with a respectful nod.

Fire Heart spotted Short Whisker and bounded over to meet him. “Hi!” he meowed. It had been over two moons since he’d last seen the small brown tabby warrior. Fire Heart remembered the WindClan queen whose kit he’d helped to carry. “How’s Morning Bloom?”

“Happy to be home.” replied Short Whisker. “My nephew is growing quickly now.”

"Nephew?" Fire Heart echoed.

Short Whisker blinked. "Oh, Morning Bloom is one of my older sisters. I suppose there was no reason you'd know that already."

"Oh, that's great!" Fire Heart purred. He almost mentioned his own nephew, but that could be a slippery slope into revealing he was a kittypet, and he didn't see the need for Short Whisker to know that.

“The whole Clan is well. It’s great to eat rabbit again. I hope I never have to taste another rat as long as I live!” Short Whisker added with an amused gleam in his eyes. "How's your training going, by the way?"

Fire Heart realized he still had been an apprentice last time they met. "I've been made a warrior, actually." He mewed neutrally as the barrage of memories from that day filled his mind.

Short Whisker seemed pleased. "It's no wonder! You do look the part."

Fire Heart detected a fresh scent in the night air. RiverClan was coming. He could smell ShadowClan, too. He scanned the ridge that ran around the edge of the hollow. Sure enough, RiverClan cats were streaming down one side. On the opposite ridge, Fire Heart saw ShadowClan cats poised at the top, their coats gleaming in the moonlight. The lean figure of Shadow Night Pelt stood at the head of the group.

“At last.” growled Short Whisker. He’d spotted them as well. “It’s too cold to be hanging around tonight.”

Fire Heart nodded absently. He was searching the crowd of RiverClan cats as they entered the clearing, looking for Silver Stream. He recognized the pale gray molly easily. She skidded to a halt at the bottom of the slope, then followed her father as he exchanged reserved greetings with the warriors from the other Clans.

Nervously Fire Heart scanned the growing throng of cats for Gray Stripe. Would he dare speak to Silver Stream tonight? The gray warrior had his back to Silver Stream while he talked with a WindClan warrior.

Fire Heart was watching Gray Stripe so closely that he didn’t hear Hop Step approach. “Good evening, Fire Heart.” meowed the WindClan deputy. “How are you?”

Fire Heart turned. “Hello.” he meowed. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Hop Step nodded. “Good.” he meowed, and limped away.

Short Whisker gave Fire Heart a friendly nudge. “You’re privileged!” Fire Heart felt a small glimmer of pride.

Then, after a pause, Fire Heart watched the deputy go. The swift and lean WindClan warrior padded confidently, despite his limp, towards his spot near the Great Rock. What if… Fire Heart started thinking. He looked around for Bark Face, and got up to walk over to where the healers met.

Blue Fur’s yowl sounded from the Great Rock. Fire Heart turned and looked up, surprised. The leaders didn’t usually call the meeting so soon. Crooked Jaw and Night Pelt were standing close together on the rock. Blue Fur waited beside Tall Tail for the cats to gather beneath them. It was the first time Fire Heart had seen the WindClan leader at a Gathering, he realized with a jolt.

Fire Heart and Short Whisker followed the other cats as they settled themselves beneath the rock, and he wove around the crowd so he could stand closer to where Bark Face was. Bristle Thorn, Muddy Claws and Misty Step sat close by. Fire Heart looked up expectantly, waiting for Blue Fur to welcome Tall Tail and WindClan back, but the ThunderClan leader was clearly in no mood to waste time on friendly words.

“RiverClan has been hunting at Sunningrocks.” she began angrily. “Our patrols have scented your warriors many times, River Crooked Jaw. Sunningrocks belongs to ThunderClan!" She wasn't finished. "You also attacked my warriors. They were returning home after finding WindClan. It was a mission we all agreed on! They should not have been attacked. Despite that, one of our warriors saved one of yours, and you repay it by stealing prey? Have you no honor?”

“You speak of honor?” spat Crooked Jaw. “What about the ThunderClan warrior who has been spying on our territory since then? Did you think I would turn a blind eye to that just because one of your cats did us one favor?”

Blue Fur was caught off guard. “Warrior?” she echoed. “Have you seen them?”

“Not yet.” Crooked Jaw hissed. “But we find their scent so often, it won’t be long before we do.”

Fire Heart glanced at Gray Stripe in alarm. He knew only too well which warrior had been detected in Crooked Jaw's territory. Would any of the RiverClan warriors recognize his scent tonight?

Gray Stripe sat motionless, not taking his eyes off the leaders on the Great Rock.

Tiger's Claw’s deep growl sounded from the crowd near the Great Rock. “We have scented ShadowClan in our territory as well as RiverClan this past moon. And not just one warrior, but a whole patrol, always the same cats.”

The ShadowClan leader’s eyes flashed indignantly. “ShadowClan has not been in your territory. Clearly your warriors can’t tell the difference in the scents of cats outside their own Clan. You must have been smelling the scent of some rogue cats.”

Tiger's Claw snorted in disbelief and Night Pelt glared down at him. “Do you doubt the word of ShadowClan, Tiger's Claw?” The crowd murmured uncomfortably as Tiger's Claw stared back at Night Pelt with unconcealed distrust.

For the first time, Tall Tail spoke, his tail twitching uncertainly. “My warriors have also found strange scents in WindClan territory. They seem to be ShadowClan.”

“I knew it!” Tiger's Claw snarled. “RiverClan and ShadowClan have united against us!”

“Us? What do you mean by us?” spat Crooked Jaw. “I think it’s you and WindClan that have united! Is that why you were so keen to bring them back? So you can use them to invade the rest of the forest?”

Tall Tail’s fur bristled. “That’s not why we returned, and you know it. StarClan wills for there to be four Clans since the dawn of the warrior code. We have kept to our own territory these past moons.”

“Then why have we found strange warrior scents in our territory?” Crooked Jaw growled.

“They don’t belong to WindClan!” hissed Tall Tail. “They must be rogue cats, as Shadow Night Pelt says.”

“But rogue cats would be a convenient excuse for invading our territories, would they not?” Blue Fur murmured. “Most rogues do steer clear of Clan borders, after all.” She stared dangerously at the RiverClan and ShadowClan leaders.

Crooked Jaw raised his hackles and Night Pelt arched his back. With a flash of alarm, Fire Heart saw Tiger's Claw stand up and stalk toward the Great Rock, every muscle tensed. Would the leaders really fight at a Gathering?

At that moment a shadow fell over the valley. The cats fell silent as they were plunged into blackness. Fire Heart looked up, trembling. A cloud had covered the full moon, completely blocking out its light.

“StarClan has sent darkness!” Fire Heart recognized the meow of Rye Stalk, a WindClan elder.

The ShadowClan healer yowled in agreement. “StarClan is angry. These meetings are meant to be held in peace.”

“Wet Nose is right!” It was Violet Fang. “We shouldn’t be fighting among ourselves, especially during leaf-bare. We should be worrying about keeping our Clans safe!” Her voice echoed in the frightened silence. “We must listen to StarClan.”

Tall Tail spoke up, a dim silhouette on top of the Great Rock. “This Gathering is over, by the will of StarClan.” The crowd murmured in agreement. The air was thick with the scents of fear and hostility.

“Come, ThunderClan.”

Fire Heart could barely see Blue Fur as she leaped down from the Great Rock and headed for the edge of the clearing. He pushed his way through the other cats and hurried after her. He saw the massive outline of Tiger's Claw as the deputy fell in step beside his leader, and the pale dark shapes of the other ThunderClan cats as they gathered behind the two great warriors. No cat spoke as they trekked solemnly up the slope toward home. Fire Heart glanced over his shoulder. The other Clans were withdrawing too. By the time he reached the top of the slope, Fourtrees was deserted.

The Clan ran silently through the forest, following the familiar scent-lined trail. Fire Heart spotted Gray Stripe at the back and he slowed his pace. Maybe Gray Stripe would be more prepared to talk about Silver Stream, now that it was clear how tense things were between the Clans. His scent had been detected in RiverClan territory! Gray Stripe was putting himself and the Clan in danger with his secret meetings.

Fire Heart searched for the right words but Gray Stripe hissed first. “I know what you’re going to say. And I won’t stop seeing her!”

“You’re a mouse-brained fool!” Fire Heart spat back. “They’ll soon work out it’s you. Blue Fur will guess, or some cat from RiverClan will recognize your scent. Tiger's Claw’s probably guessed already!”

Gray Stripe shot Fire Heart an anxious glance. “Do you really think so?”

“I don’t know.” Fire Heart admitted, relieved to hear a note of fear in Gray Stripe's voice. The gray tom had been acting as if he had no idea what might happen if the Clan found out about his affair. “But once he starts thinking about it...”

“Okay, okay!” spat Gray Stripe. He was silent for a moment. “What if I promise we’ll meet only at Fourtrees? That way our scent will be hard to detect, and I won’t have to go into RiverClan territory. Will you leave me alone then?”

Fire Heart felt his heart sink. Gray Stripe was not going to give up Silver Stream that easily. Then he nodded. This had to be better than creeping into hostile Clan territory to see her. Princess and Misty Step had told him he couldn't make him stop.

“Satisfied?” Gray Stripe’s eyes flashed in the gloom, but his voice sounded shaky. Fire Heart felt a pang of regret for their lost friendship, and a rush of sympathy for the gray warrior. He stretched his head forward to nuzzle Gray Stripe’s flank, but the warrior ran on ahead, leaving Fire Heart alone at the back of the group.

Even though the cats were tired from the journey, Blue Fur called a meeting as soon as they were home. Most of the Clan was still awake anyway. The Gathering had been shorter than usual, and the sudden cloud cover had alarmed even the cats left in the camp.

“Hello, Fire Heart.” Brindle Face whispered, a faint shadow shifting in the gloom. “Cloud Tail’s much better. Stone Pelt gave him feverfew. It was just a chill.” The queen sounded relieved. “What happened at the Gathering?”

While Blue Fur and Tiger's Claw settled themselves on the Highrock, Fire Heart hurried over to the nursery. He wanted to know how Cloud Tail was. He poked his head through the entrance. It was pitch black and warm inside.

“StarClan sent clouds to cover the moon. Blue Fur’s called a meeting. Can you come?”

Fire Heart listened to Brindle Face sniffing her kits. “Yes, I think I can.” she answered finally. “My kits will sleep for a while.”

Fire Heart withdrew his head, and together they joined the cats gathered in the clearing. Fire Heart felt fur brush against him, and Blazing Cinder glanced up at him with wide, worried eyes.

Blue Fur had already begun. “The greatest threat seems to be from RiverClan and ShadowClan. We must be prepared for the possibility that these two Clans have united against us.”

Shocked meows rippled through the Clan.

“Do you really think they’ve joined together?” Violet Fang rasped. “RiverClan has the best sources of prey, but I can’t imagine they’d want to share with ShadowClan.” Fire Heart remembered Silver Stream’s words about RiverClan’s hunger after the Twoleg invasion, but he held his tongue, fearful that Blue Fur would want to know where he’d heard such a story.

“They didn’t deny it.” Tiger's Claw pointed out.

Blue Fur nodded. “Whatever's the truth, we must be on full alert. From tonight, each patrol will have four cats, at least three of them warriors. The patrols will be more frequent, two each night, and one during the day, as well as the dawn and dusk patrols. We must put a stop to RiverClan’s and ShadowClan’s raids on our territory, and since they have chosen to ignore our words, we must be prepared to fight.”

The Clan yowled their agreement. Fire Heart joined in even though he was worried about what this open hostility might mean for Gray Stripe. He looked around at the other cats. He could see all their eyes shining — except Gray Stripe’s. The gray warrior sat with his head bowed in the shadows at the edge of the clearing.

When the noise died away, Blue Fur spoke again. “The first patrol will leave before dawn.” She jumped down from the Highrock. Tiger's Claw followed, and the rest of the Clan broke up into small groups. Fire Heart could hear them murmuring nervously as he padded to the warriors’ den.

Fire Heart settled into his nest, kneading the moss with his paws to make it comfortable. An owl hooted at the top of the ravine. He knew he would not sleep yet. His mind was racing with the accusations that had flown around the Gathering. He understood RiverClan’s anger. They had picked up the scent of ThunderClan cats in their territory, and they were hungry now that their prey had been depleted by the Twoleg invasion.

But what about ShadowClan? It had lost some skilled warriors since ThunderClan had helped them to chase out their tyrannical former leader and his band of followers. Broken Tail had even admitted to killing Shadow Ragged Claws, his own father, to become Clan leader. But the Clan had been left in peace to recover from Broken Tail's bloody rule. And Fire Heart couldn’t help thinking that, with fewer mouths to feed, ShadowClan had no need to raid ThunderClan’s territory, or anyone else’s.

As he puzzled over these thoughts, White Flower and Dark Pine pushed their way into the den. Before White Flower went to his nest, he stopped beside Fire Heart. “You’re to join me, Sand Storm and Black Leopard for patrol at sunhigh.” he meowed.

“Yes, White Flower.” Fire Heart answered before resting his chin on his paws. His claws felt cold with the knowledge he may need to fight for his Clan very soon, and he braced himself for more dreams of bloody combat.

Fire Heart thanked StarClan that he had recovered so quickly. Sand Storm had been right about the kit’s resilience. He looked around to see if Pale Tail and Dusty Earth were there to see it too, but the clearing was empty.

Fire Heart crossed over to the nursery. “Hi, Cloud Tail.” he meowed. “Feeling better?”

“Yeap!” squeaked Cloud Tail. He spun around in a circle, grasping for his tail with his tiny jaws. The tom kit had begun walking not too long ago, and was now even more curious and active. A small ball of moss that had been sticking to his fur fell off and rolled along the ground. Cloud Tail leaped on it awkwardly and pawed it into the air. It bounced onto the ground beside Fire Heart.

The clouds that had covered the moon had rolled away by the next morning. Fire Heart enjoyed the faint warmth of the sun on his back as he washed himself in the clearing. Cloud Tail tumbled out of the nursery entrance opposite him, looking bright and happy.

Fire Heart knocked it back toward the kit, and Cloud Tail sprang up to catch it in his teeth.

“Well done!” Fire Heart was impressed. With one paw he scooped the moss ball high into the air, sending it flying across the clearing.

Cloud Tail raced after the moss on unsteady legs and grabbed it. He rolled onto his back, threw the ball up with his forepaws, and kicked it away with his hind legs. It landed next to the nursery. Cloud Tail scrambled up and scooted after it. He crouched a rabbit leap away, his hindquarters bunched in the air.

Fire Heart watched as the kit prepared to pounce. Suddenly his fur prickled. A long, dark foreleg was reaching toward the moss ball from behind the nursery.

“Cloud Tail!” Fire Heart called, “Wait!” Shadowy images of rogue cats were still fresh in his mind.

Cloud Tail sat up and looked around at him, puzzled.

Tiger's Claw emerged from behind the kit, holding the moss ball between his teeth. He carried the ball over to him and dropped it by Cloud Tail’s fluffy white paws. “Be careful.” he growled. “You wouldn’t want to lose such a precious plaything.” As he spoke, the dark warrior stared at Fire Heart over the white kit's head.

Fire Heart shivered. What did Tiger's Claw mean by that? He seemed to be talking about the moss ball — but did he really mean that Cloud Tail was a plaything?

#thistledown au #thistledown fire and ice

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