A one-shot of Silverstream and her dealing with the talk Fireheart had just given her about her and Graystripe. Enjoy!
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A intense anger burned deep within the smooth, silvery tabby pelt of the RiverClan queen who, with a furious twitch of her tail-tip, spun away and headed towards the river, wading into the shallows with purposeful grace before swimming, with such an ease possessed only by RiverClan cats, back to her side of the rippling blue-gray waters.
Behind her, his bright green eyes still gleaming with worry, stood the deep ginger form of a ThunderClan tom, the thick woodland scent of his Clan still wreathed around him for he remained on his own territory, yet he stared after the RiverClan cat with a concerned look in his eyes, written on his face as plainly as the fearful expression of a woodland mouse as it is about to be caught, not that the silver queen had caught many mice, neither did she really want to. But she completely ignored this auburn-colored warrior as she swam the last fox-lengths across onto her own sandy shore.
Splashing softly out of the river waters, the silver tabby queen closed her eyes for a moment, giving herself a thorough shake before lifting her head, making sure her back was turned to the tom looking after her on the other bank. For the moment, she paused.
Though she looked as if she could care no less of the ginger warrior across the river, she was actually very acutely aware of him, feeling the burning sensation of his gaze upon her back as she stopped a moment by the water, rather seldom but still doing so, splashing continuously at her paws, already soaked by the shining ripples of the river. She continued to pause.
Though it was only the slightest bit, the delicate form a single silver ear shifted back towards the tomcat, searching both desperately yet still carelessly for the sound of his voice, calling her back across to him to apologize or something of the like. But after a long moment of waiting that seemed to stretch into moons, the gray she-cat knew that that voice was not going to come, and neither were the words she so greatly wished to hear.
Your love for him is all right, and his love for you is just as fine. You're not breaking the warrior code by meeting together in secret. It's not harming anyone…
She replayed those exact words over and over in her mind, churning them with great wistfulness in her brain as she at last started away from the river, slipping quietly into the reeds with her tail lifted high, showing the ginger cat still waiting on the other side that she was not at all fazed by his words he had said only moments before, though, deep inside, they had dealt her blows even harder than that the flood-risen water throwing a cat against a stone in the river could ever give a cat.
Now, feeling no sensation as she had when the cat from the ThunderClan side of the river was staring after her, the gray she-cat paused, casting a uncertain glance back through the wall of reeds from which she had just emerged. Even when peering through the fronds, the silver warrior caught no sight of the red-pelted tom and she blinked, allowing her eyes to fall closed and letting the bulky, dark gray and furry, amber-eyed image of the warrior of which she had spoken of with the ginger tom seep into her mind's sight.
She smiled as the picture of the gray cat became even more real, and she vaguely felt the soft brush of his bushy fur through her own thin, silky one, sweeping along her body until she felt the form completely surrounding her, wrapping her in the loving embrace of which she was both fond and familiar of. And opening her eyes, for a moment, she swore she could actually see him, his thick-furred face smiling, his dark gray pelt slightly fluffed along his darker back stripe, and his golden-amber eyes staring straight into the depths of her river-blue ones… Yes, that's how he described her eyes, the same shade as the color of the blue river…
"Silverstream?"
The sound of an indecisive voice came from behind her and, her ears flickering in sudden fear, the silver tabby queen was jolted out of the trance and spun, with a dreading gleam in her eyes, towards the voice which was muffled by the thick stems of the reeds still lying beyond. The dark gray tomcat of which the she-cat had so certainly seen only heartbeats before was nowhere in sight. Realizing that the gray tom had been no more of an illusion, the silver she-cat let out a near-silent sigh of relief, straightening as the owner of the voice which had called out her name moments before emerged from the reeds, her dark gray pelt prickling and her blue eyes widening at the sight of the silver she-cat.
The newcomer blinked. "Silverstream, where in StarClan's name have you been?" The dark gray she-cat rushed forward, nuzzling the silver tabby's muzzle with her own and going on, "Crookedstar was worried sick! He's sent the whole Clan out to find--" She stopped short, pausing in mid-sentence and taking a slow step back, her nose and muzzle sort of wrinkled as if she had just inhaled something foul.
Instantly realizing what the other RiverClan warrior must have scented, the silver tabby blinked her blue eyes, casting the dark she-cat a smile, though it was obviously rather nervous, and saying, "Oh, Crookedstar shouldn't worry about me. I'm a warrior now, not a helpless little kit. He should know better than to worry over me, besides what trouble could I possibly get into?…" Not caring if she were gushing and growing more worried by the moment as the cat, called Mistyfoot's, face continued to become more and more horrified, the silver tabby, Silverstream, continued talking, smiling a sort of feeble smile at Mistyfoot who at last stopped her.
"Silverstream."
The silver tabby's heart began to beat a little harder against her chest, making her ever slightly wince. "Yes?"
"Silverstream, where have you been?" Mistyfoot's voice was flat, and the way she kept stating Silverstream's name before speaking sort of frightened the tabby, making her suppress little shuddering shivers.
Silverstream blinked, thinking quickly. Guestering with her tail and trying to look relaxed, she meowed, "Oh, just strolling around by the river. I'm not really doing anything, just needed a little time by myself. Have you noticed how loud the camp has gotten since Rushtail had her--"
"Silverstream, you can stop." Mistyfoot's voice had changed from bland to flint-hard, and her usually friendly blue eyes seemed to hold an edge of steel to them. Her eyes narrowed. "I know where you've been."
Instantly, though she was still trembling on the inside, Silverstream seemed to grow from uncertain and stuttering to defiant and formidable. "Alright., where?" Her voice held a challenge to it, daring Mistyfoot to guess her wrong. "Where have I been?" Blue eyes now glittering, she presumed to glare at Mistyfoot who stared right back, that steel-coldness still in her gaze. The dark she-cat seemed not at all fazed by Silverstream's sudden change in attitude, not that Silverstream much cared.
A single dark gray ear twitched. "You have ThunderClan scent all over you." Her tone of her voice was cold. "You've been on ThunderClan territory." She blinked. "And I know exactly who with."
Silversteam's heartbeat, which had only at first started to beat a little more forcefully but now pounded against her ribcage, seemed as if it was becoming even harsher. Yet Silverstream ignored it, though fear was now bubbling up, hot and unsympathetic, in her belly, making her legs tremble. But her voice still held challenge and she meowed, "Who, then? Who have I been with?" Flicking her tail-tip once in a sign of defiance, the tabby glared, straightening herself until she was looking Mistyfoot directly in the eyes, their gazes clashing like two different currents of the same river, each with the same intensity, yet neither strong enough to bear the other down.
The single word that next was spoken echoed between them, booming like thunder in one's ears, barely a whisper in the other's. "Graystripe."
"Well, you're wrong!" Silverstream's voice came out as a sort of cry and she whipped her gaze away, tearing her eyes from Mistyfoot's until she was staring--no, glaring--at the ground. Her breaths, which she had managed to keep calm before, now came out in quiet but shaky, ragged gasps and her pelt, at first flattened and cool, now was bushed, as was her tail. Both anger and fear stewing in her belly, Silverstream blinked back tears, continuing to stare at the ground.
From out of the corner of her eyes, Silverstream saw Mistyfoot take a single, uncertain step towards her and the silver tabby could almost smell the sudden puzzlement radiating off her friend in waves, almost like the waves of the river lapping at the shore. "Well… If you haven't been with Graystripe, then who have you been with?" Uncertainty now tainted Mistyfoot's voice, though she still seemed certain that there was something wrong with Silverstream. After a moment, she added, "And I know you've been with some ThunderClan cat; I can smell it on your pelt."
For what seemed a long time, Silverstream made no move to respond, just stared wretchedly at the ground.
Upon hearing no answer, Mistyfoot again spoke, "Well?"
For a heartbeat longer, Silverstream bit her lower lip, eyes beginning to flicker as she thought of what to do. What could she tell Mistyfoot? That she had been speaking with Fireheart? No, she couldn't! Not unless she wanted Mistyfoot to think she was meeting two ThunderClan warriors.
At last, she sighed. Not moving, not even lifting her gaze to meet Mistyfoot's, Silverstream murmured, "Mistyfoot, you have to promise not to tell anybody. Not Crookedstar, not Leopardfur… No one."
Mistyfoot opened her mouth, tail-tip stirring against the ground. "But I-"
"No one, Mistyfoot. Not any cat. at all."
For a heartbeat or so, Mistyfoot looked again as if she were going to rebuke. But she thought better of it, closing her mouth and letting her tail lie flat before saying, rather softly, "Alright. I promise, Silverstream. I won't tell any cat."
With that said, Silverstream, still not lifting her eyes to meet her friend's, let out another heavy sigh, her shoulders heaving and her whole body expanding with the breath. Then she spoke, "No, Mistyfoot, this time I was not with Graystripe. Well, I had been, but then…" Her voice faltered, and she paused a moment, gathering herself.
"Then?" Thinking that the silver tabby warrior had stopped speaking altogether, Mistyfoot prompted her on. Silverstream, still not lifting her gaze, pricked her ears a moment, searching for a change of tone in Mistyfoot's voice, but it was bland, plain as the granite of Sunningrocks that shone against the moonlight; the gray she-cat could certainly hide her thoughts well.
Taking another deep breath to steady herself, knowing that she was confessing something that was so much against the warrior code, Silverstream spoke on. "Then… Then Graystripe's friend, Fireheart, came along and-"
"So you met with two ThunderClan warriors today?"
For the first time, Silverstream turned to meet Mistyfoot's gaze which now held a gleam of challenge. Yet a glitter that was even fiercer was shining in Silverstream's eyes, now wild and angry, and her tone seemed to hold the hottest coals of flame. "No! I was only supposed to meet with Graystripe! Fireheart came along on accident. He saw us, me and Graystripe, together and he told us to stop seeing each other. And don't even say it, Mistyfoot, I know you'll say that, too. That's what everyone will say; my father, Leopardfur, Mudfur… Oh, StarClan! If Leopardfur knew, I'm sure she'd flay both me and Graystripe and feed us to the crows. She already hates Graystripe! She thinks he pushed Whiteclaw into the gorge, but he's told me it was an accident! He didn't do it on purpose. He'd never do something like that on purpose…"
By now, tears were streaming down Silverstream's face, wetting further still her already damp fur before splashing down to the ground, resting at her paws. And her voice had fallen from an angry tenor to a sobbing cry, echoing amongst the reeds of where the two she-cats, Mistyfoot and Silverstream, stood.
For a long moment, Mistyfoot was silent, her blue eyes wide as she took in all that she had heard. Then, stepping lightly on soft paws, the dark gray she-cat stepped towards her weeping friend, placing a tail upon her shoulders in a sign of comfort, though it seemed to do little good. But her voice was soft and it appeared to, if only slightly, calm Silverstream who quieted herself enough to listen to what Mistyfoot had to say.
"Silverstream…" The dark she-cat stopped short, taking in a little breath, as if gathering her thoughts. "Silverstream… I-I know I can't stop you from seeing Graystripe. It'll probably only make you want to meet with him more… But, as a friend, let me tell you this; you're breaking the warrior code. You have to realize that this is not all going to end happily. Silverstream, someone will have to pay for it, whether it be you, or Graystripe, or the whole of RiverClan, someone will have to pay. In the end."
Mistyfoot fell silent, having spoken what she needed to say. Before her, her legs trembling, whether it be either from exhaustion, or despair or perhaps both, Silverstream seemed to have suddenly become very tired, her eyelids drooping and her tail splayed out on the ground.
High above, dark, lurking storm clouds were gathering, rising up in menacing procession against the formerly dark blue, for nightfall was drawing on, sky. Taking only a split heartbeat out of her time, Mistyfoot cast a glance up at the foreboding clouds, knowing it wouldn't be long before a downpour would break, throwing the two she-cats into a long night of trying to find the RiverClan camp though the rain.
They had to leave soon, unless they wanted to face the night wandering.
As the clouds got thicker and thicker and the tension in the air seemed to build up by the moment, Mistyfoot leaned forwards, wishing she did not have to disturb but also knowing they needed to get a move on, and nudged at the still wet shoulder of Silverstream who remained with her head down, showing no signs of recognizing Mistyfoot's presence.
Quietly, in a half-meow half-murmur, she said, "Come on. We need to go. It's going to rain soon and I, personally, don't want to get stuck outside in the downpour. Come on." For a moment, a second of which Mistyfoot dreaded she would have to actually carry or even drag the despaired Silverstream all the way back to camp. But then Silverstream showed some recignition and shifted herself, beginning to rise up from the ground though her head remained low.
Feeling herself take a great breath of relief, Mistyfoot stood up with her, encouraging her. "That's it! Yes, come on, now. We must hurry. Come on!" Nudging the seemingly hopeless she-cat along with soft bumps of her muzzle, Mistyfoot got behind her friend, slowly beginning to push her in the direction of the RiverClan camp.
And all the while, Silverstream, with her silver head down and blue eyes bleary with desolation, silently obliged, making her way with half-hearted effort, towards home.
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I don't remember if it stormed the day Fireheart met with Silverstream and told her to give up Graystripe, but I felt it made the mood a little more fitting. And this may not mirror Silverstream or Mistyfoot's personalities exactly, like the end of which I really don't like rereading, but this story was just a little boost to help me push my confidence in my writing skills back up; I've been having a writer's block and don't have much confidence in my writing skills anymore… This little one-shot was to help me.
Well, anyways, enough of my blabber, hope you enjoyed! R & R, please!