Big Changes
Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors; I just like writing stupid little parodies of it.
I had to write something tonight and this just...came out. In a nutshell, it's a brief reflection of Rowanclaw's reaction to their little, uh, gender change. xD Takes place in Starlight. I wrote it in less than an hour, not the best writing. Deal with it.
"Come along, Rowanclaw! Goodness, are you ever acting strange today. It was nearly sunhigh when you woke up, and the whole way along this patrol you've been slower than a fat old badger." A dark red she-cat surveyed her friend closely. "Are you alright?"
Rowanclaw shook herself as though she'd been doused with cold water. Shrinking back, she looked guiltily up at her deputy. "Sorry, Russetfur. I just feel like, ever since we've come to the lake, everything has felt so...irregular, you know? It's just...I really don't feel so great right now. It must have been that mouse I ate last night. I'll try harder, though."
The ShadowClan warrior sighed. "Don't worry about it; we've all been really shaken up ever since the Twolegs and their monsters invaded the old forest. I understand, just do your best, okay?"
Pawing the ground nervously, she dipped her head. "Thanks..."
From behind the two she-cats, Oakfur, the third and final cat in the patrol, spoke with annoyance strong in his voice. "Great. Can we get on with this, now, please? Blackstar entrusted us to set the new borders and explore the territory; we've only been here for four moonrises, and we have actual lives to get with. Hurry up."
"Thank you for the input, Oakfur," mewed Russetfur, authority sweeping through her tone. "Let us keep going."
She spun around and whisked away through the bushes, and the brown tom pursued without a backwards glance at Rowanclaw.
The bright ginger she-cat's ears drooped as she followed her Clanmates through the undergrowth, still trailing behind several pawsteps. Cocking her head to one side, she reflected back on the conversions that had taken place in the days since the Clans had traveled long and far from the old forest, specifically how she was feeling this afternoon. She had slept long and late, not opening her eyes until the sun was burning high in the sky. When she had spoken to Russetfur just now, she had noticed her voice to be hoarser, deeper, more pronounced than the bright, lilting way it had been before.
There were physical changes, too; Rowanclaw felt like something under her skin had been boiling away these last few days without her knowledge and had finally erupted, spilling out to the exterior, bubbling over. She now felt heavier, burlier, not as slight, like a whole extra layer of muscle, sinew and flesh had been added on top of what she already had. It was a strange sentiment to describe.
She knew that she knew the word she was looking for, now, could feel that it was stuffed somewhere in the back of her mind. Now all she had to do was pull it out. What was it, that word, what was it...ah, yes: bloated. She felt terribly bloated. Puffier, like the skin around a sick cat's eyes. Bigger, like the progress a feline makes from tiny kit to fierce warrior. Stronger, like a broken bone after moons of healing in the medicine den. Tenser, like the crackling spiciness in the air just before a battle. It seemed new and unfamiliar, but at the same time was comfortably nostalgic, as if it had always been there, without exception.
Truth be told, the sensation was totally whack.
Rowanclaw thought about what could have caused these obscure modifications. At first, when she had woken up much later than usual and found her tone to be low and rough, she'd brushed it off to the side, blamed it on the fresh-kill in this unprecedented land. (After all, she would soon grow used to it, right?) Maybe she had caught a small cold on the long journey here and its symptoms were finally taking their toll and weighing her down. But, she'd been fine when she'd fallen asleep last night....
The ginger she-cat suddenly had the most peculiar urge to go make dirt. Quickly shaking her head to clear her thoughts like brushing off an irritating fly, she bounded ahead a few fox-lengths to catch up with Russetfur and Oakfur.
"I'm going to make dirt," she panted to the deputy. "Go on without me, I'll be along in a few heartbeats." When her superior nodded curtly, she raced off through the undergrowth, each step suddenly pulsing with adrenaline for unknown reasons. Where was all this energy coming from all of a sudden?
Skidding on the damp pine needles covering the forest floor, she ducked behind a prickly bush and squatted slightly, raising her tail and spreading her back paws apart. She waited.
Something was wrong, in a very...disturbing sense of the matter. "It" just wasn't...working. Confusion mucking up her head, Rowanclaw bent over and peered through her legs to see what was the matter--
"HOLY FREAKING MOTHER OF STARCLAN IN A SKY-DAMNED DINGHY, WHAT THE FOXDUNG IS THAT?"
8D If you don't get the ending...well, sucks for you. I'm not writing it out.
Review, luvvees! Please and thank you!
--Annie
May 2, 2008
(Edited on Sunday, January 25, 2009)