So, the first thing I need to say is that, yes, I'm rewriting my collection of one-shots. No, I'm not going to write new stories. Now, this may change in the future, but right now the goal is to make the stories an easier read. I'm not proud with my old writing skills.
This is also proof I'm not dead and will be my path to going back to writing fanfiction. This was once my proudest achievement and I want to feel that joy once again. I will also be answering questions about the stories after each story, so if you'd like to ask unanswered questions, now's the time.
And to clear things up with new readers, the cat telling these stories is not the same Darktail from the books. Darktail was a staple for this series before A Vision Of Shadows came out.
So, with that said and done, enjoy the dark tales of Darktail.
Frogkit
dappled brown tom with a white throat and blue eyes
The Frog Who Hated His Croak
Well then, what do we have here? Some kits looking for a story? What would your mothers think of you visiting at a time like this? A storm's on its way and the elder's den is no place for kits when it rains.
Fine, fine. I guess I can spare one story. One that begins on a day such as this.
"Frogkit! It's time to come back to the nursery!" The kit flinched at his mother's concerned voice. The rumble of the distant storm warned of danger, but Frogkit didn't care. Instead, the dappled brown tom let out a sharp hiss. He hated his name. He hated being called Frogkit. That was no name for a warrior! Why couldn't he have a strong, brave name like Hawkkit or Pikekit? Who would fear a cat whose name started with something as gross as a frog?
Of course, he didn't blame his mother, Lightwater. She only named his sisters, Shadekit and Shimmerkit. No. He was the unlucky kit who was named by the useless lump of fur known as their father, Scorchstep. Thankfully he had been born with a brown pelt, like his mother, and not dark gray like his father. With that thought, he forced his temper to calm down. He knew he shouldn't let the older apprentices get to him. Pretty soon he would be an apprentice and he'd be a much better apprentice than any of them. Getting to his paws, he started back to the nursery, where the brown and white tabby waited for him. Frogkit narrowed his eyes when he noticed his sisters were waiting nearby. Shadekit's dark gray pelt was bristled with excitement for the upcoming storm. Meanwhile, Shimmerkit was hiding in the shadows, her black pelt blending in almost perfectly, if not for the white on her chest.
"Come on in, Frogkit. You don't want to catch whitecough, do you?" There was worry and concern in her dark amber eyes. Frogkit shook his head.
"No, mom. I'm sorry."
Lightwater looked at her son and lightly nudged his muzzle with hers.
"No need to apologize. I just worry about you and your sisters."
"I know." Honestly, he had no clue why his mother worried so much, but saying he understood usually calmed his mother's nerves. As of lately stress has been high in RiverClan. Though he didn't fully understand, his friend, Sunpaw, who had only recently became an apprentice, mentioned that there was something wrong going on with their border with ShadowClan. The smell of fox was unbearable near there, from what the golden tom had told him.
"Wanna play hide-and-seek, Frogkit?" Shadekit's question snapped Frogkit out of this thoughts. Her dark amber eyes revealed her excitement. However, Frogkit did not feel the same way.
"No." His tone was sharp and quiet, so that their mother wouldn't hear. Disappointment took over her expression and she walked sadly over to Shimmerkit. He could hardly believe how quickly she changed emotions. It was exhausting. He walked to the nest and glanced slightly at his sisters. Shimmerkit was silently judging him with her bright green eyes. He rolled his eyes and turned away.
What did she know anyway? She was everyone's favourite.
"Oh, Shimmerkit is so sweet."
"Shimmerkit would make a great medicine cat. She's sooooo smart."
Frogkit glared down at his own paws. No one ever said the same thing about him. However, he would show them.
You're going to be a leader one day. You're going to be- Frogstar... Even with the honour of being a leader, it still sounded like a lame name. As he drifted to sleep, he hoped that something would happen to those older apprentices so that he'd never have to deal with them again.
"Frogpaw! Shimmerpaw! Shadepaw!" As the Clan cheered the names of the three new apprentices, Frogpaw's stomach flipped. Though the worst of his bullies were warriors now, it didn't ease his stress. From the crowd he saw Sunpaw, whose golden tabby pelt was bristled in excitement. At least that was one thing to look forward to. He would be closer to his best friend. He was soon approached by the deputy, his mentor, Honeyflame, whose bright yellow eyes were shining in kindness. His belly churned with imaginary maggots, even though he had no reason to be nervous. He knew deep down that she was going to say his name.
"Come on, Frogpaw, let's go explore the territory. But first, grab yourself something to eat. We'll be gone most of the day." Frogpaw forced himself to calm his worries and nodded.
As he made his way to the fresh-kill pile, he glanced to see Shimmerpaw heading off towards the medicine cat's den with her mentor, Sweetwhisker. The tortoiseshell and white she-cat was much older than half the elders in camp, but everyone trusted her wisdom. It was surprising that only now she had decided to take an apprentice. And, of course, it had to be Shimmerpaw. Meanwhile, Shadepaw was trotting after Whitebee towards the camp's exit. Frogpaw shivered as he watched the snow white tom. Even if he didn't get along with his sisters, the thought of one of them being stuck with such a harsh tom. Whitebee was one of his worst bullies, seeing himself as the strongest warrior in RiverClan while he was still a -paw. It didn't help that he was born unusually large.
Frogpaw grabbed a small trout and went near the apprentice's den to eat it. He noticed that Seedpaw was gone, probably with her mentor. As he ate the fish, he hoped something would happen before he became a warrior.
Any name would be better with Frogpaw.
Moons passed since then. The small apprentice was now only days away from becoming a warrior, if Honeyflame's word was anything to go by. Despite the slow moons of training and the tempers between RiverClan and ShadowClan, it was almost like nothing happened in his life. The only new thing about his was the long scar going down his back from an intense fight with a ShadowClan cat. Frogpaw shook his head. The closest name he'd probably get, if Snailstar would even be okay with it, was Scarback. Too bad his leader would never stick someone a "terrible name". He let out a quiet hiss so that Honeyflame would not catch on to his anger. She always bragged how he was kind and respectable and he didn't want to ruin that for her.
As he trailed behind the patrol, the cats ahead of him spoke so loudly he was sure anything around them could hear them, too. He was thankful it wasn't a hunting patrol.
"WindClan's been keeping to themselves a lot, lately." Commented Stormstrike. He was a senior warrior. Proud and powerful. His gray fur was almost always a mess from the scraps he'd get himself in. Next to him stood his sister, Hollyheart, who nodded in agreement to his observation.
"I wonder if they're up to something..." The tortoiseshell voiced her worries out loud. Next to her, her abnormally small apprentice piped up.
"They better not cross into our territory!" The solid black tom spat, narrowing his green eyes. For only being an apprentice for three days, he already had the ego of a warrior. Honeyflame shook her head, the pale brown tabby finding the apprentice's spunk amusing.
"That's why we're making sure they're sticking to the moors, Blackpaw." She said in her kindly tone. Stormstrike chuckled.
"I'm still having a hard time believing you're the same fiery she-cat from we were apprentices."
"Well-" Honeyflame's words were cut off by Hollyheart, whose fur was fluffed up in fear.
"Dog!" Right as she cried out, a large brown dog jumped out from behind a bed of reeds, letting out loud, horrible barks. "Blackpaw! Get back to camp! Go get help!"
The terrified black kitten took off. Frogpaw, meanwhile, was helping take on the brown dog. The dappled brown tom struck at the dog's hind lets, scratching and biting, hoping to bring the giant creature down. Meanwhile, Honeyflame was on the dogs back claws dug into its thin fur, drawing blood. Though he could barely see them with his teeth sank into the dog's leg, he knew Hollyheart and Stormstrike were facing the dog head on. Out of nowhere, the dog rolled over on its side for a split second before jumping back on its long, skinny legs. That short second was enough to knock the air out of Frogpaw and he let go of the dog's leg. He glanced to see Honeyflame had apparently jumped off of the dog's back and was now aiming for the throat.
Stormstike caught the dog right on the nose with his sharp claws. It let out a yelp that echoed on the wind. Right as it yelped, two more dogs joined the fight. A small black dog and a smaller gray and brown dog, both with the same long fur. Frogpaw went for the black one, striking it in the face with his sharp claws. It helped and he went to strike it again, but the dog bit his paw and started shaking its head. While he was being shook, something his paw popped, sending endless pain up his leg. Frogpaw yowled in pain. It let go of him long enough to pull his paw out of its mouth. Before he had time to react, the small black dog buried its fangs into his sides and started to shake him all over again, the sounds of hunger in its growl.
Stormstrike, who had just chased the smallest dog off, ran off to save Frogpaw, who was screeching so loudly that it filled the entire air. The gray tom strike the dog right between the eyes, causing the dog to drop Frogpaw and yelp. Stormstrike went at the long-furred dog again, striking it in the shoulder and than again in the chest. This was enough the scare the small dog off.
Frogpaw curled up in pain, the world around him becoming fuzzy and dark. He saw the large shape of the big dog running off before everything became too obscured by shadows and blurs to see clearly.
"Frogpaw!" Was that Honeyflame's voice? "Frogpaw!"
He could make out a pair of scared yellow eyes before the world was taken over by blackness.
When he came to, Frogpaw couldn't find the strength to move or even open his eyes. His entire body was sore and he felt cold... So, so cold. He could barely shiver without pain coursing through every inch of his weakened body. His mind flashed back to the nursery. He could see them. His family. Lightwater, Scorchstep, Shadepaw, Shimmerpaw. He wanted to see them again...
He remembered catching his first fish, how he fell into the water and accidentally caught it in his mouth. How Honeyflame laughed. He wanted to hear his mentor's laugh again. That would be nice...
He shuddered as he felt a chill, like a winter wind, brush through his matted pelt. It reminded him of Seedpaw, his friend of ShadowClan. He remembered how they met. The cold air of leaffall. She joked how he looked just like a brown leaf. He commented how she was no better. He could recall her golden-brown pelt, her spotted tabby markings.
He remembered how the three of them made a promise. Seedpaw, Sunpaw, and himself. That, one day, they'd leave their Clans to go find where they belong. But that was never going to happen now...
As he left his thoughts, he realized there there were voices. Cats talking over him. He could make out only a few of them, Shadepaw and Sweetwhisker being the main ones. One voice spoke above the others, seemingly silencing them. He tried to make out the voice... It sounded like...
Snailstar... He could almost envision the tan tabby tom... How he wanted to see everyone one last time...
"He will no longer be known as Frogpaw," The leader's voice was dim with sorrow. "He will join his ancestors as Frogspirit, for he died a true warrior and is deserving of a warrior name."
Through the heartbroken chants of his name, the brown tom couldn't help but smile, despite the pain it brought him.
Frogspirit... For once, the name didn't leave a horrible feeling in his stomach or a bad taste in his mouth. He felt the ghost of a purr in the back of his throat. I am Frogspirit...
What a wonderful name.
I'm actually glad I'm going to be polishing these stories and fixing my mistakes.
I hope you all have enjoyed this, new and old fans alike.
