The Old Fan Fiction Page

Brightwing’s Story
Super Edition
Chapter 5

Brightpaw purred as she took a mouse from the fresh-kill pile. Although the air was crisper than normal, Brighpaw ignored the oncoming Leaf-fall and sat down to eat the dawn patrol’s catch with her brothers.

“Hello there, you three! What are you up to today?”

The littermates looked up to see their mother, Flameleaf’s, friendly, ginger face looking kindly down at them.

“We’re going to be doing battle mov-”

Before she could finish, Snowpaw interrupted her.

“Why do you want to know? We’re not kits in the nursery anymore! You don’t need to follow us around.”

Brightpaw listened in shock at his aggressive tone. She knew that training with Lightningflash had made him proud and a mite conceited, but never did she expect him to be rejecting her mother. Perhaps the broad shouldered black and white cat wasn’t such a good influence after all.

Yet she couldn’t ignore the fact that Snowpaw would definitely be one of the best fighters in the Clan soon, from what she had seen when she passed his training in the forest. He was eager, quick to learn and not afraid to be matched with anybody. She knew his skills would be hard to match in their training today, but perhaps she could learn some tips.

Looking wounded, Flameleaf trotted away to see Oakleaf, her mate, who was meowing a goodbye to his friend, Silverstripe. The silver warrior was visiting his mate, Pebblenose, in the nursery, where their kits would be born any day now.

“What did you do that for?” Hissed Brownpaw, who was obviously as astonished as she was.

“Well, she can’t keep treating us like kits. Lightningflash says that if we learn to rely on her now, we’ll never become proper, independent warriors.”

“We’re not ‘relying’ on her,” Brightpaw mewed in an agonised way,” she was just being friendly, that’s all. If she had been any other warrior, you wouldn’t have sent them away like that. Anyway, we’re not warriors yet! We’ve barely trained a moon!”

“Have you finished your meal?” The powerful voice of Lightningflash carried across the clearing to the apprentices.

“Nearly!” they replied, cheerfully enough to not betray what had just happened.
* * *
Not long after, Brightpaw, Brownpaw and Snowpaw were heading through the forest again, this time to the training hollow. Lightningflash and Thornheart raced ahead, and the apprentices followed.

“I wish Shimmerfrost were here,” Brownpaw puffed, wishfully.

“Yeah, because you’re in lu-uve. Kits could see how you behave around her!” Snowpaw teased.
He seemed to be in a much friendlier mood than a few moments ago. Perhaps because they were in the forest, as even though ThunderClan was quite small compared to the other Clans, the clearing could get a bit crowded. Brighpaw noticed that Snowpaw seemed much less out of breath than either his littermates.

“Nonsense!” Brownpaw flicked his long tail on Snowpaw’s head, good-naturedly.

Fore a second, Brighpaw wondered if the two would have been so close had their littermate, Aspenkit, not died. Then she turned back to the current situation.

“Anyway, haven’t you noticed the looks Shimmerfrost and Gladethistle have been exchanging recently? That’s why the two of them are going on a hunting patrol alone.”

Snowpaw looked vaguely surprised, before claiming that there would be more kits for ThunderClan and heading off ahead to join his mentor.

Brownpaw and Brighpaw exchanged glances.

“He just doesn’t get it, does he?”

Brightpaw shrugged at the brown apprentice’s words. She wasn’t sure that she did know much about love, but she did know that kits probably wouldn’t come straight away, and they’d have to find each other out. Which was probably what they were doing today.

The training session was a great success. Brightpaw learnt how to wait still until the attacker thought you had given up, and then leap back off again; kick against a flank with her powerful tabby back legs (a move that she was particularly good at); how to trick your opponent into about where you were aiming and how to weave in and out to confuse them.

Finally, Lightningflash called for a stop to the training, and introduced a competition, in which each apprentice would play each other twice. The winner would get first pick from the fresh-kill pile, a prize which made Brighpaw’s belly rumble. After all the morning’s hard work, the small mouse she had eaten earlier seemed a long time away.

Desperate to win, Brightpaw absolutely won clearly against Brownpaw , and only after few seconds the small cat was lying on the ground with Brighpaw’s white paw on his soft belly. However, the next time she underestimated his speed, and he was more ready. After some feeble attempts to slash at the blur-of-an-enemy, Brightpaw had the breath go out of her as Brownpaw landed right on top of her unassuming body. When they had stopped laughing and untangled themselves, Thornheart announced that Brownpaw was on one point, drawing with Brightpaw.

Then Snowpaw fought against Brightpaw, who was already exhausted from her defeat against Brownpaw. Snowpaw was quick and nimble, and seemed to get all the moves in the right place, with just enough time to leap back before Brightpaw could claw off his ears. Fighting back bewilderment at her brother’s skills, Brightpaw suddenly charged into the white fur and bit hard on his flank. Yowling, Snowpaw slid under her tummy and batted at it, until she had the sense to move. The battle went on for some time, and Brightpaw managed to scrape her sheathed paws on his back, after jumping and twisting in mid-air, which earned her a compliment from the deputy. But Snowpaw dealt the winning blow on one of her back legs, causing her to collapse, and Brightpaw had lost again.

“You’re a good fighter,” Thornheart murmured encouragingly, as they watched Brownpaw against Snowpaw, “but Snowpaw is just better. Of course, in real battle, there might be a cat even faster and deadlier than Snowpaw is now, so you’ve just got to be prepared. Snowpaw has also had more battle training, while we’ve been focusing more on your strength: hunting. But you’ve got a long way to go before you become warrior, and there’s still time to improve.”

Brightpaw nodded, but she also knew that THIS time she had lost, and right now, it meant all the difference in the world.

She watched her brothers fight, half-heartedly, until she noticed that Snowpaw had used a tactic she hadn’t seen before. Pushing Brownpaw back gradually towards a massive prickle bush, she realised that it meant Snowpaw was always in advantage of the fight. She suddenly imagined the training hollow full of screeching cats, and she saw immediately that if Brownpaw was better than Snowpaw and was a threat to him, then when he was pushed into a Snowpaw’s fellow warrior, Brownpaw could just be taken on by another warrior. Poor Brownpaw looked bewildered, and, as Brightpaw looked at the two warriors, they looked both impressed and interested.

Couldn’t they see that Brownpaw was in danger? Brightpaw watched in dismay as Snowpaw’s claws slid out, unconciously, as if he, too, was imagining the situation as a real battle.

Just then, she noticed a decent hole in the ground, which was just behind Brownpaw now. Snowpaw didn’t seem to have realised, as the holly bush he was aiming for was just behind it. If Brightpaw didn’t do something, then Brownpaw would fall in it, Snowpaw too, and could hurt themselves on the stray holly leaves that had floated down there, although Brownpaw already had injuries from Snowpaw’s dangerous claws. Brightpaw wondered why their mentors didn’t stop it ,when she found out that Snowpaw had now taken Brownpaw so far away from them, that they probably couldn’t see.

That moment, Brightpaw caught sight of Snowpaw flying down after a massive jump, onto Brownpaw. It would crush his clawed face, if he hadn’t fallen into the hole first.

Like an adder, and without thinking, Brightpaw shot forwards, propelling herself with her hind legs. She briefly felt one of Snowpaw’s paws squished under her weight, when she felt herself pulled off him from the scruff of her neck, from a furious Thornheart.

“For StarClan’s sake, what on this earth do you think you were doing? You could have completely crushed Snowpaw under your weight!” Brightpaw noticed uneasily that his normally warm blue eyes were icy slits.

“On top of all of that, it wasn’t even your fight! Brightpaw, you need to learnt to keep out of things that are not yours, and to remember your own ability and weight. Brownpaw and Snowpaw made great progress today, and that fight showed how much they had learnt. It was going fine until you decided to interfere. I’m very disappointed in you. As my apprentice, I’d expect you to know better. We had better tell Beechstar about this.”

Beechstar! Surely she hadn’t done anything that bad? Then she noticed Snowpaw limping heavily, his eyes screwed up with the effort of walking on his immobilised paw, even with his anxious mentor letting him lean on him. But seeing Brownpaw grimacing too from the wounds Snowpaw had inflicted, and no-one but Brightpaw had even stopped to look at, made her blood churn with anger. Just because she had saved her brother from becoming more wounded, she was going to be reported to the Clan leader for accidently landing on Snowpaw. She nearly wailed with the unfairness of it all.

By the time that the cats reached ThunderClan’s camp, Snowpaw could barely walk. As he staggered in, he was met by Flameleaf (who Brightpaw noticed with growing irritation he didn’t tell to shoo off this time), Oakleaf, Shimmerfrost and Gladethistle. While he dramatically described Brightpaw’s apparently brutal attack to the worried crowd, Thornheart dashed urgently into the medicine cat den.

After all the disbelieving stares she got from her Clanmates, Brightpaw was glad when Beechstar was called, and he ordered Brightpaw, Brownpaw, Snowpaw, Lightningflash, Thornheart, Flameleaf, Oakleaf and Shimmerfrost to come in his den. Brightpaw barely noted in her misery that it was her first time in there, and didn’t bother exploring her surroundings, even to see that the nine of them hardly fitted.
“So,” Beechstar meowed in a commanding mew, “what happened here?”

Snowpaw was about to repeat his biased and completely exaggerated account of the events, when Beechstar motioned for silence.

“I think, young apprentice, that I shall ask Lightningflash about this particular accident,” he warned, sharply.

Brightpaw was cheered by how he at least realised how arrogant Snowpaw was getting.

Lightningflash did indeed say what happened, but from his point of view only. Which can only be expected, Brightpaw thought bitterly, as the deputy was too far away to see what really happened. Besides, she doubted the black and white warrior would take sides with another cat’s apprentice, she realised with disgust.

Her mother gasped as she listened, and Oakleaf gave her a look of incredulous shock, as if he didn’t quite know who she was anymore. Whats more, the whole time Thornheart looked as miserable as Brightpaw felt, and embarrassed too, almost as if he had done it. Oh, StarClan! She hadn’t meant to make Thornheart look bad! He was the best mentor ever!

When Lightningflash came to the part where Snowpaw’s paw was flattened, Snowpaw let out a groan, overshadowed by pain. Or was it? Suddenly Brightpaw decided that it was too much of a coincidence that he had felt a pang of pain just at that moment. How much of his wails and limps was just acting, to get attention? She let out a gurgling growl from the back of her throat and longed to attack her brother to see how much she was correct, when Beechstar spoke to her.

“Can you justify yourself?”

“Well, yes!” replied Brightpaw indignantly, when she abruptly stopped.

What exactly was she justifying herself to? Saving her brother? Further more, she knew, however accidental, that landing on her brother’s paw unexpectedly like that, and hard, was wrong. Anyway, she wouldn’t be backed up by anyone, as no-one had seen what she had, and the only proof of her brother’s unsheathed claws was the scratches on Brownpaw, which could have been done by anything; sharp stones, a thistle, even one of those holly leaves from the bush Brightpaw had been trying to stop him bumping into in the first place.

So instead, she shook her head and hung it dejectedly, for the fact that she couldn’t even stand up for herself.

“Well, in that case, I’m very disappointed with you.” You and the rest of the world! Brightpaw thought.
“You shall be confined to camp for-”

Just then, Shimmerfrost interrupted her father.

“Um, please, Beechstar, but Brownpaw has something to say…”

Brightpaw looked curiously at him. She guessed he felt shy at speaking in front of so many warriors and the Clan leader, but he did it anyway.

“Beechstar, you’re wrong. I’m not saying that Snowpaw is bad or anything, but he got a bit carried away with the competition, and his claws unsheathed of their own accord.” Brownpaw glanced almost guiltily at Snowpaw, and Brightpaw’s heart soared.

“Then Snowpaw used a move that Brigtpaw and I hadn’t learnt yet, to keep pushing the attaker backwards. I was being clawed, Snowpaw was slashing at me, and our mentors were too far away, but Brightpaw saw me and she must have realised that we were going to fall into a hole full of holly leaves, which I only noticed as we were leaving. Also, Snowpaw would have landed right on my head, which would have probably taken my ears off, had Brightpaw not come in at that moment. She came very fast, before we even realised what was happening, and by saving me, she accidently also landed on Snowpaw. There. That’s what really happened.”

Beechstar frowned.

“Is that true, Brightpaw?”

“Yes, only I didn’t want to say because I didn’t think anyone would believe me.”
Brightpaw felt so relieved that she wasn’t going to be punished, that she barely noticed Snowpaw’s disgruntled expression, like a cat who just missed an easy catch – embarrassed and disappointed. Barely – but she did.

“Well in that case, you are excused.” Beechstar beamed down at her, while Oakleaf and Thornheart praised her.

Flameleaf waited until they were out the crowded den, before nuzzling her kit. Brightpaw noticed Lightningflash tell Snowpaw that they would have to have ‘a talk’. Snowpaw sighed, and, for a moment, Brightpaw almost felt sorry for him. But then she remembered his actions, and decided to keep out her brother’s way in future.

Just then, Nightwhisker pushed his way out of the nursery.

“Kitting was a success. Pebblenose has three healthy kits; two toms and a she-cat. Now, where is that scampy apprentice that I’ve been hearing about?” He told them briskly.

Brightpaw almost bristled at his lack of any normal emotion, when she decided to just leave it for today. Another day she’d put it in check.

“If you mind not gobbling what’s left of the fresh-kill pile yet, I expect the three of you might like to see them. Is that allowed, Nightwhisker?” Thornheart inquired, his good humour restored.

“Yes, but make sure Snowpaw comes straight to me after.”

Thornheart and the three littermates trotted inside the nursery. It felt weird to walk inside the place their mother had been with them, not long ago, and Brightpaw was tempted to tell Pebblenose to get out. But then she saw her and Silverstripe’s faces glowing, and she looked down to see the three newborn kits, suckling desperately at their mother’s grey belly.

“The yellow one is Morningkit, she’s the she-kit, the grey one, just like his mother, is Stormkit, and the blue-grey tom is Bluekit.,” Silverstripe announced proudly.

Brightpaw stared in wonder at the tiny wriggly things, their fur still wet and sleek from birth. These were the future of ThunderClan, she thought, though it was hard to believe it.

Suddenly, Bluekit stopped suckling, and instead observed Brightpaw. Unnerved by his gaze, Brightpaw had the funny feeling that underneath those closed eyelids, the little kit could see her.

Phew, that took a while! What do you think of it? I also posted it on the old BlogClan

The full moon was bright and clear against a dark night sky. The light of the coldly glittering stars outlined the silhouettes of four tall oak trees, each capped with a thick layer of snow that glowed as if they were made from moonstone. A tide of cats murmured with anxiety and hostility below the trees, separated into three large, muttering groups that glared angrily at each other. The present leaders were perched on branches of the four sacred oaks, but WindClan’s leader was missing. They stood with chins high and challenging, as if daring the cats on the other oaks to speak.

Finally ShadowClan’s leader, a pale silvery-fawn tabby she-cat with bright, holly-green eyes gave a small huffing sound of contempt. “Those WindClan cats are always late,” Dewstar hissed scornfully. “We might as well begin the Gathering before we all die of old age.”

Springstar, the leader of RiverClan, shook his head and showed his teeth. “You’re not dying anytime soon, Dewstar,” the stocky ginger tom growled. His pelt was almost invisible in the shadows, because of a bough casting darkness over his oak. “What do you figure StarClan would say if we beging just now?” He folded his tail over his big white paws and calmly sat down on the branch.

“If you’re so soft on those rabbit chasers, Springstar,” Dewstar sneered, “you might as well stop stealing our prey.” She glared daringly across the wide clearing, her green eyes blazing with rage.

As anxious murmurs rose, followed by enraged snarls and taunting remarks, RiverClan’s new deputy, a pale gray tabby with blue eyes, stepped up to stare menacingly at the crowd of bristling cats. “How dare you!” Lilytooth snarled. The deputy was clearly furious at the accusation. Her hackles were raised and her teeth were bared. “You know RiverClan hasn’t been stealing any of your prey, Dewstar! We don’t even hunt land prey.”

“Scraps of squirrel fur and bits of blood were found near the border,” Pinecloud retorted testily. The black tom rose to his paws, his green eyes fixed on the deputy. “If you ask me, that’s a clear enough sign.”

Tension was hot in the harsh breeze. Leaf-bare had been a challenge to all four Clans, and had brought desperation and anger to the hearts of every warrior. The claws of multiple warriors slid out, glinting in the pale light. Within moments, a few thin clouds and mist had drifted across the ivory moon, casting the clearing in shadow. Most of the cats ignored this and continued yowling and snarling, but a few cats, although not many, ceased their noise and quieted.

“STOP!” Finally, ThunderClan’s leader Brackenstar interfered. Her bold amber eyes, normally bright, flashed angrily, as hard as stone. She was well known to be many moons younger than the other leaders – Dewstar, Springstar, and Harestar – but she stood with her head held high, showing the fierce authority of a LionClan leader. “StarClan isn’t pleased,” the dark tortoiseshell she-cat continued. “If you go on doing this, you’ll eventually end up battling, and just because of your outburst – ” she glared at Dewstar and then the warriors below – “this Gathering will be forced to an end.”

Dewstar and Springstar had been furiously facing each other, hackles high and fur bristling, but when Brackenstar finished, they offered each other guilty stares and both backed off on their branches.

Once the growling had faded back to anxious murmuring, a snow-white ShadowClan apprentice yowled out with surprise. “Look!” She nudged her fellow denmate sitting next to her. “Harestar’s here!”

Brackenstar craned her neck to see.

“Lichenpaw’s right,” a brown tabby tom with the scent of RiverClan on him agreed. “They’re here, but why are they…” He trailed off uncertainly, amber eyes staring ahead where a small black tom was leading a patrol out into the open.

The muttering of the other three Clans exploded into exclaims of astonishment.

“Why would any cat be so skinny?”
“Are those warriors actually carrying kits?”
“It looks like Harestar brought his whole Clan!”
“But why?”

Dewstar growled over the noise, “You’re here at last.” Her green gaze warily followed Harestar maneuver through the crowd and spring into the oak next to her. The patrol settled comfortably down among the crowds. Many warriors gave tart grunts of greeting, but a few cats, including Lilytooth, Pinecloud, Mistfur, and two elders from ShadowClan only glared at them.

“So, Harestar, it looks like you’ve brought your kits,” Springstar added, using a icy voice.

The scrawny black tom dipped his head in cold courtesy. “Well, they’re not our kits,” he responded stiffly, scrabbling onto a higher branch to perch there and gaze at the cats gathered below with narrowed amber eyes.

Brackenstar stared at him. Her dark amber eyes narrowed to slits. “Then who is their mother?” she asked in an interested tone.

“It’s a long story,” the lithe black tom explained wryly, wrinkling his nose with distaste. “It was barely a quarter moon ago. Leafbreeze – ” he glanced below him and nodded to a gray tabby with white paws – “was taking a walk near the border when she discovered these four kits abandoned in the snow.” He pointed with his nose towards four of his warriors. Each of them had one of the kits dangling under their chins. “Their mother, sadly, was nowhere to be seen.”

“So the kits belong with their father,” Brackenstar interjected, flicking her tail dismissively. “They shouldn’t be here at a Gathering anyway.”

Harestar’s eyes averted to the tortoiseshell she-cat, his tail twitching with annoyance. It was quite obvious that he wasn’t pleased with the ThunderClan leader for interrupting his explanation, even if what she had said was only a brief comment. “Their father was also missing. Because the warrior code says we must help kits in danger, even if they’re the kits of rogues, kittypets, or loners, we decided that we should take them in.” He glanced down at a black tabby she-cat that sat on the root of his tree. “Actually,” he huffed with irritation, “my deputy Crowflight did.”

“Why did you take them here, then?” Springstar demanded in a terse tone. “Those kits shouldn’t be out, traveling in the cold. They look barely one or two or three moons old.”

The shivering scraps of fur huddled tightly together when the four warriors gently lowered the kits to the ground. Lilytooth nosed at the kit, her hostility suddenly gone. Many other cats turned to watch with interest, clearly not wishing to cut through their leaders’ discussion.

Harestar’s white tail-tip twitched again, this time with frustration, and he hesitated before speaking. “WindClan has only one queen, and she has three…unhealthy kits,” the short-haired black tom confessed reluctantly. Gasps of surprise rippled across the Clans like the surface of a breezy lake. Harestar narrowed his yellow eyes defensively. “She can’t care for seven kits at once. Will each leader have enough queens to take in the kits?” He clearly sounded resentful to be admitting WindClan’s weaknesses to rival leaders. It was not a secret that WindClan’s leader was a haughty, proud cat.

There was a long pause after that. The younger medicine cat of ThunderClan, Rainshine, broke the silence. “Which Clan should take them in?”

Springstar considered the other leaders, then replied, “We don’t know…but we do know that these kits need a home,” he murmured uncertainly. “If no one’s willing, then ShadowClan is free to take in the kits.”

Brackenstar twitched her notched ear. “No,” she mewed exasperatedly. “You don’t get all of them. ThunderClan can take in two. We are the most welcoming to new blood in the Clans, so everyone will be friendly with them. The other two can be between you three.”

ShadowClan’s deputy, Beechpelt, thrush his way towards the roots of the oak trees. “ShadowClan is faring better than the other Clans,” he insisted stubbornly. “We are well-fed and have the most fresh-kill on our fresh-kill pile. If we want these kits to turn good, then you should let us take them in.”

Then, a WindClan queen spoke up. “There are four Clans,” she reasoned, “and four kits. So why not each Clan gets a kit?”

The gazes of all four leaders turned to her. Finally, Harestar meowed, “Good idea, Spottedfoot.”

Another pause greeted his assent. After a long moment a tabby-and-white ThunderClan elder broke the silence. “Our leaders get to choose which kit they take?” he rasped, his voice creaking with age.

Crowflight nodded. Her blue eyes were stony. “Unless you want us to do it for you,” the smoky black tabby she-cat responded sarcastically, waving her tail in an assuring gesture to the old warrior.

Brackenstar carefully gazed at WindClan’s leader and then deputy for a moment, then flicked her tail to show her agreement. The dark tortoiseshell she-cat slithered down the trunk of the oak tree and stood before the four kits, amber eyes scanning the bundles of fluff. “I’ll take the speckled gray-blue one,” she decided, reaching out with one paw and gently herding the gray kit towards her. The tom-kit had a pale pelt that was speckled with black. His fur was lightly dusted with snow that made him look like a gray-and-white kitten. “Lakewing is able to take care of him,” Brackenstar announced after a moment of silence. “Her kits are due to arrive in about half a moon.”

Springstar bounded down from his bough to stand next to the tortoiseshell. “The dark gray kit would be fine,” he called up to Harestar. The dark ginger leader drew the glossy gray kit towards him. Her pelt was dark gray, but her chest and paws were all pure white and gleamed softly in the moonlight. “We have two

Dewstar narrowed her green eyes. Only a pale ginger tabby she-kit that blinked huge green eyes curiously around the clearing and a dark brown tabby tom-kit with thick night-black stripes were left. She stared at the other leaders with a slightly suspicious gaze before meticulously lowering herself onto the ground to perch on the root of her oak. She nosed both kits, one at a time, before drawing herself up to her full height. “If they’re the only ones left, I’d prefer to take this one – she looks like a fine hunter,” she mewed, grasping the pale ginger kit’s fluffy scruff in her white teeth.

Harestar was the last to approach. He shook out his pelt, spraying snow in all directions to the irritation of the other leaders, and took the dark brown tabby tom-kit in his jaws. “Then it’s decided,” he responded, dipping his head with grateful relief to his fellow leaders.

“Do they have names?” Springstar questioned.

Harestar set down the dark tabby tom. “No, not yet. You can give them their names.”

Brackenstar glanced down at the speckled gray tom she had chosen. “I’m going to name him Snowkit, for the snow dotting his gray-blue fur,” she mewed, purring quietly as she stared at the kit.

“This one will be Lightkit, for she is a new ray of light in all the Clans,” Dewstar rumbled, her voice muffled by the fluffy pelt of the kit dangling under her chin.

Harestar’s yellow eyes traveled across the dark tabby tom’s pelt as if searching for something he wouldn’t find. “Tigerkit for this one,” he mewed softly, “because I hope the name of one of the Great Clans will help him in his path to a warrior.”

A chilling howl cut across his last word, and the whole clearing seemed to echo with the bone-shaking sound. Terror buzzed from the cats gathered below the four sacred oaks and many of the warriors around the kits stiffened. Tails began to lash and hackles rise. When the howl finally died down, the dark gray she-kit that Springstar held stretched her neck upwards and squeaked boldly in response.

The dark ginger tabby tom’s eyes brightened momentarily. “For the wolf’s howl, this kit shall be Wolfkit,” he announced in a rumbling tone. “Thank you for these kits,” the dark ginger tom added, acknowledging Harestar.

“They will grow to become loyal warriors, although they are rogues deep down inside,” Harestar answered somberly.

“But now, Harestar, they are part of four Clans,” Dewstar reminded the small, lithe black tom reasonably.

“Every cat in the world is a warrior,” Brackenstar agreed, raising her voice to be heard across the wide clearing. “Us, kittypets, loners – we are all one.”

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EXTERNAL LINKS:

Deviantart: http://mistleheart.deviantart.com/art/Fading-Light-Prologue-606213502

AUTHOR’S NOTES

For once, I’m actually quite pleased with the writing. I managed to make it just a bit longer than usual, and I finally found an idea that would keep me up with the writing. The order of the kit’s POVs in the first round will be Snowkit, Lightkit, Tigerkit, and Wolfkit. I figured that tons of awesome prefixes and suffixes that should totally be canon aren’t used at all in the series. Which is why I wanted to introduce a prefix I’ve been using for a two years – Light. I am happy that I didn’t use the prefix, Drizzle, because I’ve been stuck to it for longer than anyone can possibly imagine. Or perhaps not. And this did take some time, editing and cutting, until I finally felt comfortable with the dialogue. Brackenstar’s last sentence made me a bit uneasy, because it sounded like the thing a perfect cat would say to the other Clans, but whatever. We’ll develop more of all the leaders’ characteristics in the very near future, and I hope I’ll be relieved that I’m not creating any cats like Firestar. Not saying he’s perfect, but he was close to being perfect. And I’m also happy because of the notes I wrote. At first, I was just going to have the story revolve around two kits, but they decided against it and made me choose four. And then I realized one from each Clan would be perfect. Just like how I speculate that Violetkit of ShadowClan and Twigkit of ThunderClan, from The Apprentice’s Quest, will join together somehow. And these four cats and littermates (pretty obviously), just saying if you haven’t figured it out yet.

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2075 words/2075 words total

A New Blogclan

Chapter 1

By Winterpaw

Winterpaw stared at the row of hissing, angry Warriors lined up around camp entrance. Glitchclan and Virusclan were here, ready to fight once again.

Those little rabbit-heads won’t let us have any peace, Winterpaw thought as he watched form beside the prey pile with an arched back. Cakestar and Jayfrost were a bit closer, looking at the invaders annoyedly. Many Warriors and elders and apprentices had gathered now, to look at the intrusion.

Winterpaw sighed.

There was too much tension, and Glitchclan and Virusclan had been harassing Blogclan for months. They threatened to take territory, and would stop at nothing to drive Blogclan out.

They even went so far as to kill Blogclan members.

Now, Winterpaw and his clanmates could not decide what to do. They were going to hold an official meeting before the attackers barged in. Now it was just fear of someone you knew dying.

“Why can’t you leave us alone! You have your territory and we have ours! We aren’t leaving,” Cakestar pleaded to the lined up hissing cats.

One of them, the deputy of Glitchclan, stepped forward. “No. We need this, and both of our Clans have agreed to spit the territory. You must leave, Blogclan,this is no longer your home.” He turned back to his group of cats, and signalled them to leave. “This is your last warning, Cakestar. We will give you one quarter-moon to leave. After that, if you are still here, we will come and kill every single one of you.”

With that, the deputy flicked his tail, and a blurred motion went streaking forward from the rigid line of cats.

One of the Warriors. Running, growling, claws out as it went striding straight wizards Cakestar.

No one had enough time to react when Cakestar bellowed and tumbled to the ground, a fresh wound stinging her flank.

Winterpaw sighted the warrior return to the group as fast as he departed, and the Glitchclan deputy give one last evil wink.

Then they left, leaving an injured leader and terrified Clan.

————-

Winterpaw had helped Cakestar into the medicine den, and applied cobwebs other wound. It wasn’t too big or deep, but enough to draw blood and cause irritation for a few days. Kat sighed with sadness and began to work on the moaning,wander, with Jayfrost watching like a statue nearby.

The deputy had out Sundance and Hazelburrow in charge before she entered the den, and the two Warriors were busy trying to calm down a horrified Clan.

“Please, everyone just calm down!” Sundance weaved her way through the cats and begged them to relax, while Hazelburrow nervously made jokes to try and lighten the mood.

So far, nothing was working.

“The Clan is going crazy out there, Kat. What do we do?” Winterpaw mumbled and turned to his mentor, who was applying a poultice to Cakestar’s scratch in the corner of the den.

“Until I heal Cakestar, we’ll all have to wait for the meeting that decides our fate.” Kat meowed quickly as she continued to work.

Jayfrost nodded at Winterpaw.

“Okay. I guess we’ll all be stuck here in the meanwhile, open targets for Glitchclan and Virusclan…” Winterpaw bit his lip and started sorting herbs, trying to take his mind off everything.

———

Two days later, Winterpaw awoke from his uncomfortable sleep in the medicine den by the calling of a meeting. No one had attacked them recently, and Glitchclan and Virusclan had apparently lived up to their word that they would give a quarter-moon.

So now, Cakestar had been healed, and she only had to take things easy and slowly to let her wound fully go away. If she was in battle or on the run, her scar would reopen and pour out more blood, causing disaster.

Winterpaw yawned and got to his paws, slowly padding out of his den and into the bright sunshine.

Cats had gathered around Cakestar and Jayfrost, and Kat stood a little behind them. They were all a bit antsy, and waiting eagerly for the news Cakestar would be sharing.

None of them knew it was bad news.

“My dear Blogclan. We all know of the issue going on recently…” Cakestar began. All the cats stopped their discussions and looked up at her, listening intently. Winterpaw padded over and waited.

“Glitchclan and Virusclan will not leave us alone. They are threatening to kill us if we do not leave their territory, and we have already lost Darkstone and Redfall to them in the past. It is time we fully come to a decision on what to do. Do we stay and fight, or leave and not risk anything.”

The cats spread into groups, first to quietly mourn the loss of the former medicine cat, Redfall, and Darkstone, an elder. They then went on to discuss what to do.

Winterpaw thought in his head. So much has happened here. This was where I was born, and this is my life and home… But Glitchclan and Virusclan are ruining that. And if we risk it here any longer, all of us might die right away. Would it be better to take the long risk and search for a new home? Or stay, and fight, and leave the odds up to Starclan. I…

Winterpaw let his thoughts twirl as he listened in to Cakestar. She announced that they would be casting stones, one side to stay and one to leave, to decide all of their fate.

Winterpaw watched absentminded, waiting and waiting for his turn. What would he choose? What was right? True?

He felt so out of place and different, like all happiness was gone and his personality was changed. He didn’t like it.

Finally, all eyes turned to Winterpaw. There were only two stones left, and it was his turn.

He sighed, and focused on the two options. They both looked pretty equal…so who did what and why?

It was all so demanding and heartbreaking, and Winterpaw felt his heartbeat race.

He took one step forward, and felt the stone beneath his paws. Stay and fight or leave and go into the unknown?

Not wanting to take one second longer, Winterpaw winced and shoved the stone all the way left.

Into the section to leave.

He stepped back and looked down, hardly noticing Iceflower move forward and look at the one pebble left.

It was up to her, basically.

And she moved it left.

There was silence, a deafening loud that lasted for minutes.

Then, Cakestar stepped into the open spaces between the stones and looked around at all of her clanmates.

“It has been decided. Blogclan, we are no longer going to face our worst enemies and risk our lives in battle. Tommorow at Sunhigh, we leave for our new home. For a new Blogclan…”