DISCLAIMER: I do not own warriors. Also, the OC in this, Autumn, isn't really an OC. If you've read the manga The Rise of Scourge, she's the one who asked Scourge his name and the one he saved from the rogues. This is also kind of long. Read at your own risk!
Thanks MoonfireSpam23, I fixed the error :3
Where The Dark Wind Sings
Hello there. Looking for someone, are you? Well, you seem a little lost. Here, I have enough room in my den. Come on in. I don't look that scary, do I?
Fine, fine, stay in the rain if you want. I don't care. You're just another cat. Just one of those who come and go... Well, goodbye, then.
What's this? You've come back? Why in the world did you think I would want company? Or are you just afraid of the thunder outside?
All right, all right. Don't be naggy, you sound like my mother on a bad day! Or at least, what she sounded like when she was alive...
What's your story? Oh, come on. Everyone has a story. They're our little beam of light in this world shrouded in darkness.
You want to hear mine first? Ooh, I see, you're a stubborn one. Well, if that's what you really want... I'm such an old she-cat. Nobody's ever asked me about this before. Who cares about an old she-cat anymore?
Apparently, you do. Okay, okay, I'm getting on with it, just do me a favor - shut up!
I was born into the Twolegplace. It's a hard, cold life out here. I had an unusual pelt color, both brown and white. My mother always said I was beautiful. She said the dappled mahogany shades of the brown parts of my pelt were like falling leaves in autumn. Which was probably why she named me Autumn.
I was an adventurous little kit. It wasn't long before my mom died; she was waiflike, very thin and frail. She was attacked by one of those Twoleg monsters. I inherited her slender physique. I was so pretty, so attractive... Yes, I can see the doubt in your eyes! You wouldn't believe it now, would you? Well, I can't blame you; who would?
So I fell in with a band of other kittens. We led a tough life, scavenging for food and often begging from the Twolegs. The first night we heard about one of our neighboring bands discovering a kitten. A tiny kitten, who had asked for food, and whom they'd told to get lost. He had a ridiculous collar on; obviously a spoiled little pet from the Twolegs. That's what I thought at first.
That was when the dog started terrorizing us. It was huge, with a mean bark and even meaner bite. Well, what do you know, the kitten managed to chase it away! At first I was as stunned as the others, but then I realized - he had scared it with his shadow. Dumb dog! And that kitten was taking all the glory, when any cat could've done it!
But he needed some respect. I could see that. And so I played along. I was one of the first cats who talked to him, bounding up to ask him his name. He wasn't too small - as big as me. Then again, I was as petite as my mother, so comparing a tomkit to me would probably be an insult.
Scourge. I kept that name in the back of my mind, kept his face there. I wanted to be friends with him, but I didn't know how to approach him. So I didn't. Everything about him entranced me - his handsome midnight-black fur; his icy blue eyes; even his unusual high-pitched voice, which sustained an eery beauty.
He became the cat in charge. Cats went to him with their problems - cats who could've gone to any other sensible kitten, like me, and asked for help. But the mentality of the cats here - most of them think it's everybody for themself. That's true, I suppose.
I was hunting when I was attacked by rogues. They mocked me. They wanted me to hunt for them. I was terrified; I expected them to rip me open at any moment. What do you know - who comes along but the cat I admired most? Scourge!
My heart went out to my savior. I knew he could never win against these huge, fearsome rogues, and I blamed myself for his impending doom. All I could do was cower in the corner - oh, how I hated myself at that moment for being so helpless, so weak! Weakness was the thing Scourge hated most - how could I let him down?
But he won. He won. I was too dumbfounded, too bewildered to do anything. I stood there staring. Then I ran away. Without even bothering to say "thank you."
I didn't see him much after that. Us BloodClanners have to live on our own, you know; I didn't see much of any cat at all. When I did, they usually snarled at me - if they were she-cats - or flirted with me, if they were toms. I don't mean to brag, but I was quite a looker in my day! Ha ha, if only I could have my youth back again...
I watched Scourge's transformation, watched as his eyes grew as cold as the snow that falls in leaf-bare. Oops, I used a Clan word - don't tell anyone I did that, okay? His eyes were the color of the ice that freezes over the lake - and just as hard. He grew merciless, cruel. And I both feared and loved him for that.
I was one of the cats who sat watching from the shadows as this "Tigerstar" entered Scourge's domain. Scourge couldn't possibly want to strike up a bargain, could he? With this mouse-brain? Who talked garbage about land in the forest? I was perfectly content with my life here. But I knew there had to be some hidden motive, some driving force, behind his decision. So I didn't question our leader. I would follow him to my dying day. I just feared for his safety.
What did you just say?! You think Scourge was evil?! Nonsense! You've been listening too much to those deranged Clan cats. He was a fearsome, respected leader. He was eloquent, handsome, strong. What she-cat wouldn't love him? Don't call me foolish, you idiotic, spoiled little piece of fox-dung. Do you want to hear my story or not?
Anyway - I loved Scourge. But I could never go up, could never admit that to him. He was like those tantilizing pieces of meat Twolegs called "hot dogs" - always what I longed for, always just out of my reach. For now, I was content to sit and watch. If he was happy, I was happy. If he was angry, I was infuriated. If he was crude, I was meaner than an abused dog.
At last the day came. We went into the forest. I watched with a sick sense of satisfaction as this "Tigerstar" character fell beneath Scourge's claws. We had proven our power. We had no Warrior Code, true; we lived by the code of blood, the blood that spilled from our enemy's wounds. The bittersweet crimson liquid that enticed us, fascinated us, beckoned us.
Then the day of the battle dawned. I knew BloodClan would win. We always won. But I was wrong. I had put too much pride in Scourge - I loved him so much that I was blind to all his faults. He was a normal cat, even if he was (okay, I admit it), evil - he made mistakes. And this one would be the biggest mistake of his short life.
He died that day. My whole world crumbled apart. At least I'd gotten to see him before he died - we'd brushed pelts in the battle. I don't think he noticed. After BloodClan was driven out, I was one of the lucky few who got away, back to Twolegplace. A few nice Twolegs patched me up and I lived as a kittypet for a while, but then they moved away and left me behind. We are merely playthings, unimportant tools that are thrown out when our use is fulfilled.
Don't try and hide your eyes - I can see you staring at my scars, ya know. Yes, these are from the battle. Impressive, aren't they? Those Clan cats ripped me open pretty bad. But don't worry, I got a few pretty good hits in too. I even killed one of them, I think. No, I can't remember which one; why's it your business?! I'm not proud of myself for killing other cats.
So I lived alone. I met a nice tom and had kits after a while, but all that time I couldn't help wishing it was Scourge who was hunting for me, Scourge who was the father of my kits, Scourge who treated me nicely. He'd always be the first tom in my heart. Around that time, the real sense of his loss and the loss of BloodClan overtook me. I was thrown into a deep spiral of perpetual depression. I grew deranged, insane; by the time I woke up from my delirium many moons later, my mate was gone. And so were my kits. It didn't surprise me - I'd never really loved my mate, and my kits were nearly big enough to live by themselves the last time I saw them.
No, I haven't seen my mate or kits since then. Stop asking questions!
I didn't even see Scourge in my dreams. I wondered if he'd abandoned me. I knew this wasn't true, though - if I was never anything to him in the first place, how could he leave me?
All the time I'd lived in BloodClan I'd relied on his presence, his leadership, his decisions. Now I had to rely on myself. It was hard for a young she-cat like me, you know. This wasn't the lifestyle I wanted. This wasn't the anything I wanted.
What did I want? Another mouse-brained question!
I wanted to go home.
I wanted a sense of purpose. I wanted to have a leader, someone who cared about my welfare, someone who made the choices for me. I didn't want to live by myself. What if I did something wrong and died? What if I misjudged something? What if, what if, what if...
When she'd first heard about Scourge, my dying mother knew from the start he was trouble. She told me to stay out of his way, to leave Twolegplace and never come back. She told me she'd foreseen that Twolegplace would be ruled by blood. She didn't want that kind of lifestyle for her precious daughter.
I was stupid. I should've listened to her. But I didn't, and it only lead to heartbreak.
She told me if I kept living here, if I kept associating myself with this cat, I'd go to to the place where the dark wind sings. I didn't know what that meant at first. I still can't fully comprehend its meaning. But I know one thing - I've already reached that place. I'm long past it. The dark wind has already sung a spell across my heart, binding me to my dark duty forever. A haunting melody pulses through my veins.
I've taken that last step into the great unknown. I've reached the edge and been pushed over one too many times.
Your eyes are as big as moons. You think I'm crazy, don't you?
Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. In any case, don't ever get involved with any cat like Scourge. Not like you'll get the chance to - they only come around once a decade, you know? That type of cat is rare. If he'd had purity in his heart, think of all the great things he'd have been able to accomplish...
I'm telling you now. Once you've reached that place, where the dark wind sings, there's no turning back. The tune will enrapture you, snag you in its spiderweb of lies, where many other cats are already writhing. Once you're in that place, you're there forever, with the cats who were foolish enough to dance to its song.
Do me - no, yourself - a favor. Get away from here. Far away. Twolegplaces like this are always bad dumps. Only bad things happen here, only things that'll never lead to good. No matter how pure you think you are, once you're here, you're infected.
There's hope for you, I suppose. Look, the storm has ended. Go on your way, now. Get out of here. Me? No - I can't come with you. I've already told you. I'm bound to my eternal blood-filled duty. It's always been that way. It always will be.
What, you thought my story would have a happy ending? There is no happily ever after in the life of a cat like me; a former BloodClanner leads a life of little prestige, a life that they wished could end too many times.
Good-bye now. Don't stray from the path - strangers around here are just enemies waiting to be met, and not everyone's as friendly as me.