They are born into a world where a callous revolutionary failed to lead their forebears astray. Her mad words and dark notions did not sway them; they cast her out and left her to scheme alone. In this world, they did not fail the test set before them, glorious and terrible in its very nature. They were, they discovered, not afraid of poison in the least.
Leader: Oakstar- old tabby tom with white underbelly
Deputy: Morningstorm- lean golden she-cat with small tawny dapples
Medicine Cat: Specklefrost- speckled brown she-cat with wide blue eyes
Apprentice: Sedgewing- cream tom with faint brown patches
Warriors:
Thornstreak- dark brown tabby tom with tufted tail
Apprentice: Nettlepaw
Gorsespots- ginger tabby tom with white belly, chin and legs
Honeyleap- dark golden tabby she-cat
Apprentice: Silverpaw
Swiftstream- stocky grey tom with green eyes
Apprentice: Jaypaw
Bramblenose- stocky red-brown tabby tom
Meadowmist- white she-cat with green eyes
Apprentice: Sablepaw
Icecloud- icy grey tom with thin grey flecks
Toadstep- thin brown tom with warm amber eyes
Apprentice: Pepperpaw
Redsong- red she-cat with patches of white
Swanpath- lithe white she-cat with black paws and muzzle
Embertooth- thin black she-cat with green eyes
Apprentice: Smokepaw
Fussyfur- spiky-furred grey tabby tom
Littlefern- creamy fawn she-cat with brown rosettes
Stripethorn- pale brown tabby with blue eyes
Apprentice: Rainpaw
Sparkpool- plump ginger she-cat
Sleetclaw- pale grey tom with blue-grey patches
Apprentices:
Jaypaw- blue-grey she-cat
Smokepaw- dark grey tom with pale, subtle stripes
Rainpaw- dappled grey she-cat
Nettlepaw- fawn she-cat with brown dapples
Pepperpaw- dark tabby tom with bold black stripes and white chest
Sablepaw- sleek black she-cat with bright green eyes
Silverpaw- long-furred grey she-cat with darker dapples
Queens:
Morningstorm: lean golden she-cat with small tawny dapples (nursing Strongkit- fluffy white tom with patches of pale tabby and cream; Sunkit- bright yellow she-kit with one white paw)
Miststreak- pale grey tabby she-cat, nursing Toadstep's kits (nursing Streamkit- white she-kit with thin brown stripes; Pinekit- russet tom with dark back and tail)
Elders:
Palefur- pure white long-furred she-cat
Budgiewing- pale blue-grey tom with rheumy amber eyes
Tawnyfrost- thin tawny she-cat with ginger paws and belly
RiverClan:
Leader: Crowstar
Deputy: Hawkstorm
Warriors:
Snowfeather
Gullstorm
Apprentices:
Hailpaw
Whitepaw
ThunderClan:
Leader: Fernstar
Deputy: Willowmist
Warriors:
Robinstreak
Mistystripe
Apprentices:
Honeypaw
Lilypaw
Fleetpaw
Eaglepaw
WindClan:
Leader: Splashstar
Deputy: Lionfrost
Warriors:
Goldenfur
Heatherfoot
Specklefrost
Apprentices:
Frostpaw
Mousepaw
Gorsepaw
The forest, filled with afternoon light and a seasonal glow, is quiet. Mostly. The air beneath the canopy reverberates the sound of youthful laughter. Leaves crunch under rapid footsteps and small shapes rocket through the undergrowth. Caution is for the elderly; restraint is something they do not concern themselves with.
"Slow down, Sablepaw!"
One figure darts in front of the rest, weaving through the currents of the undergrowth with ease. She is unbound, unfettered, unchecked. Her friends call out behind her, but Sablepaw likes the taste of competition, the thrill of winning. It has always been so. Three trail behind her, hardly even trying, because they've never placed their prerogatives on victory. Two are a pale, dappled grey; they could be sisters, but their relation is in appearance only. The third bounces as she runs, a mouse hanging from her jaws, the sole profit of today's outing.
"You'll have to catch me first!"
The group crashes through the undergrowth and onto a well-worn path, bleached and baked by the sun despite the verdant canopy. A distant murmur rises in the air, and the lagging trio struggle to catch up.
"I told you we'd be late!" Sablepaw says, throwing her words into the wind, but there's no consternation in her voice. In truth, she's mostly apathetic, but this is expected of her. And she's never Silverpaw would never let her hear the end of it if they missed even the smallest part of it. At this, Silverpaw squeaks and hurries forward, leaving Rainpaw and Nettlepaw to lag behind.
"I told him we'd be there!"
They burst into the clearing at haste; to Silverpaw's dismay, the Clan is already huddled beneath Oakstar on his wooden pedestal, clinging to the worn roots of the tree with thin claws. With an expression of contrite abashment on her face, Silverpaw slinks to join the back of the crowd. Sablepaw is more reluctant- she understands the importance the Clan places on these things, but they drag on incessantly. She always has to strain to catch Oakstar's words.
"-Sunpaw, your mentor will be Bramblenose. Bramblenose, you have worked hard to be a part of this Clan and have proven again and again your strength as a warrior. I expect you to pass all of your hard-won knowledge down to Sunpaw."
At the head of the assembly, the newly named Sunpaw bounces forward to bump noses with her new mentor. She recalls the excitement of her own ceremony, though she had not been so eager to bump any part of her body to Meadowmist's. The white queen has always been a formidable figure, and no new facsimile of a mentor-apprentice relationship would improve her temper.
"It's his turn!" her sister whispers, as Sablepaw rolls her eyes. For some inexplicable reason, she's formed an unholy alliance with that tiny puff of fur. Behind them, Nettlepaw snorts.
"Strongkit!" Oakstar announces, still managing to sound regal even with the perpetual quaver in his voice. "You have reached the age of six moons, and, as such, it is time for you to be apprenticed."
Strongkit sits patiently at the head of the crowd, though his tail twitches with excitement. Sablepaw can practically hear her sister gushing with pride. Though two moons older, they'd maintained an odd sort of camaraderie which, Sablepaw supposed, was only going to get worse again now that they would be sharing a den. Sablepaw loved her sister, without reservations, but she could be overbearing at times. When combined with that conceited chatterbox...Sablefrost wondered if she'd be sleeping any time soon. She liked his sister well enough, but perhaps that was because she didn't walk around acting as though she had a pedigree stuck up her ass.
Silverpaw squeaked, and she snapped to attention. Distracted by her antipathy, she hadn't noticed Strongkit's rapid transcension into Strongpaw at the behest of a few old words. White whiskers trembling, Oakstar announces that Strongpaw will be trained by Icecloud.
"Oakstar looks like a small breeze could push him over," Sablepaw muttered, leaning back into Nettlepaw. "He ought to be in the elder's den." Nettlepaw laughed, and Rainpaw made an undignified sort of scoff.
"He is still your leader, apprentices. He deserves your respect." From her seat in front, Morningstorm turned to give them a cool glance. The crowd has begun to chant her children's names, but she pays them no heed. Sablepaw had not even noticed her, but bows her head now to the deputy anyway. In that instant, Meadowmist ceases to be the most intimidating presence she has ever encountered. "Something to think about if you ever wish to be his warriors one day." With that, she inclines her head and stalks off, presumably to offer up some small congratulations to her kits.
As she departs, Silverpaw turns to shoot her a mortified glare. "Look what you did! She probably hates us now. What if she doesn't let us be warriors?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Rainpaw says, coming to stand beside them. "Sablepaw only said what everyone is thinking." They watch Oakstar climb down from his perch with uncertain movements, every step shakier than the last.
"Speaking of," Nettlepaw says, in an airy tone of announcement, "I'm going to take my mouse to the elders. I'm a good apprentice."
"Wow, they might even tell you a story," Sablepaw retorted. There's no malice- there never has been- but Sablepaw can never resist an opportunity.
"I might be so lucky!" Nettlepaw says, faking a dramatic gasp before she picks up her mouse and trots away, a jaunty kink to her tail. Rainpaw shrugs and follows her, perhaps lusting after the aforementioned story time. Sablepaw watches them go, but has no desire to join them; Palefur always tries to regale her with stories of her glory days, all of which seem to be severely embellished.
Silverpaw begins speaking behind her, but Sablepaw has turned her attention to the crowd. Her brother, Pepperpaw, is on the fringes, a disgruntled expression on his face; Embertooth, once again, is trying to coddle him. Smokepaw is hanging around- whether for his mentor or his friend, she's not sure. Thornstreak watches them with an amused smile. Sablepaw loves her family, honestly, but Silverpaw has always been her favourite. There's something softer, sweeter in her than the rest. Sablepaw can't help but feel they're a perfect imbalance, ice and light, snark and honey.
As she turns around, Sablepaw realises she's standing in front of one of the things the two will never agree about; Silverpaw has always had a penchant for taking in small, unwanted things, and Strongpaw is no exception. Her sister is blind to his arrogance; according to her, Strongpaw is the best friend she'll ever have, and Sablepaw is petty enough to hate him for it. She doesn't see the attraction, really, but thinks that suddenly they may be about to spend much, much more time together.
"Congratulations," Sablepaw says thinly, as the pair turn to her. Sunpaw is already gone, no doubt taking a tour of the territory like a good apprentice ought to. Silverpaw gives her a warm smile for socialising.
"Ah, it speaks," Strongpaw says, bending to lick his chest. "We were going to get some moss. Do you want to join us?"
"You can sleep on the ground, for all I care," she replies, ignoring the warning look that has replaced her sister's smile. Progress undone. Good. Strongpaw shrugs, a suit-yourself expression plain in his eyes. Many things may be said of the tom, but he does not, at least, have thin skin. Silverpaw ushers him away after that.
He doesn't say another word to her for two moons.
Sablepaw was always meant to be a warrior, to run and hunt and flay skin from flesh with her claws. She born to it, the wild freedom and the hunger of liberty. This is true for her brother. Pepperpaw idealises their father, builds him up to some great primal hero in his mind, but he has no delusions; the life of a warrior is simple, and he will never complicate it. The same is not always true for Silverpaw. None of them realise this, at first.
They all train as hard as each other; Smokepaw and Pepperpaw have a grudging, tentative friendship built on thrashing the other apprentices in the training arena. Jaypaw, however, is better than their best efforts combined, but she only lords this fact over Pepperpaw. Rainpaw and Nettlepaw are content to finish at the bottom of the pack, but scrapping together always seems to be a great source of entertainment for the both of them. They're enthusiastic, if nothing more, and the same can be said for Silverpaw, who has great vim but little technique. Sablepaw, despite her overbearing mentor, remains average, stoically so.
She gets paired with Strongpaw. It's not like she's supposed to teach him anything, but she'll be handy for him to walk over to build his confidence. Something of a mild challenge, but nothing more than a stiff push-over. Sablepaw tries not to get offended, but who is she kidding? She's livid.
"Go easy on me," Strongpaw says, smirking, as they face off for the first time. In the far corner of the arena, Sunpaw and Silverpaw roll around giggling. Strongpaw is already covered in dust, his mottled fur sticking up in patches, but he's already just as tall as she is. He's twice the tiny pipsqueak he was just two moons ago.
"Get real," Sablepaw replies, licking a paw. "You'll be picking sand out of your pelt for moons."
"This isn't a pissing content," Meadowmist growls, with a glare at Icecloud. The pale grey tom just shrugs, looking faintly amused. "Get on with it."
There's no time for expressions of apologetic appeasement. Strongpaw drops into a crouch; even his snarl is arrogant, self-assured. Sablepaw mirrors his pose; the crouch is comfortable and familiar to her, even though she's not the best fighter of her group. She bares her teeth; she doesn't care what Meadowmist says. Posturing is half the battle. They creep closer as Meadowmist shouts instructions. Sablepaw leaps first, determined to dismantle his confidence, ruin the false shield of his pedigree. He twists, faster than she expects, and she lands grasping at pawfuls of dust.
Strongpaw strikes the first blow, a mild cuff over her ears. She hisses at him; she is not fragile, she is not so easily broken. "Are you going to poke your enemies till they run away?" she growls, backing up a step; from here, she can see that smirk. He darts at her, kicking up puffs of dirt under his paws. The black apprentice meets him head on, colliding with his charge and rolling with his movements, until her momentum lands her on top. She pins him with a victorious snarl, but Strongpaw has not conceded yet. He kicks up violently, aiming his paws at her soft stomach. There's little strength in his wiry limbs, for now, and she does not go far- she lands in front of him, coughing faintly, and he claims the win as his own.
A simply as that, their rivalry ascends to a new tier.
They spar for the rest of the afternoon. Strongpaw has a slight physical advantage, but Sablepaw memorises and counters his moves with ease. They're essentially equals, but she feels a sharp spike of pride whenever she manages to come out, briefly, on top.
"Alright, kids," Meadowmist says, smothering a yawn. "Go for a walk or something. Cool off." She leaves abruptly, sounding a little hoarse; she's mostly been shouting advice at the pair of them, and growing increasingly frustrated as they fail to follow it. Icecloud lingers, murmuring something into Strongpaw's ear as he leaves. Sablepaw limps over to her sister; Silverpaw, apparently, has had a grand old time rolling around in the dirt with her new pal Sunpaw.
"Sablepaw!" she squeals, clouding the air with debris from her pelt as she shakes it off. "Is Strongpaw still in one piece?"
She rolls her eyes, glancing back at the tom; he's trotting over, a cocky swagger to his step that does not speak of being bodily thrown on the ground far more than once. "Unfortunately," she mutter dryly. Unsurprisingly, Sunpaw is the only one to laugh at this. Silverpaw shrugs the wayward comment aside.
"Let's go for a walk," Silverpaw suggests. "Bramblenose, would you like to join us?" Sablepaw had not seen Sunpaw's mentor, who had been sitting in the shadows of bracken. She stares at him for a moment: his ruddy fur, bright eyes, the scar that tears across his lip. He was not born in the Clan, she knows that much, but the rest of him remains a mystery.
"Sure," the warrior replies, shrugging with congenial ease. "Someone has to keep you lot from trouble."
The five of them set off; Silverpaw leads the group, flanked by the two toms. Sablepaw finds herself walking with Sunpaw. Though she's related to both Morningstorm and Strongpaw, she shares none of their conceited airs. They have an amicable conversation; she's merely glad to have a conversation that doesn't mention/include Strongpaw. Up ahead, Silverpaw's giggle is continuous.
The sky above the canopy is swathed in streaks of yellow and pink; the air is balmy, almost tropical. Sablepaw feels youthful; for a long time, she never feels as young as she did this evening, making stilted conversation with a cat she hardly knows. She was born with a sense of infallibility, a complete and utter lack of her own mortality. They walk down a darkening path, none the wiser. Strongpaw is the first to smell it.
"What's that?" he asks, head raised in the air. Sablepaw just rolls her eyes dismissively. Strongpaw will make a mountain out of a molehill, if given the chance. Bramblenose follows his lead, inhaling a deep lungful of the warm summer air. Against her best instincts, Sablepaw gives in and does the same; there's a sharp, copper tint to the breeze, one not entirely unfamiliar.
Strongpaw scrambles off the worn path they stand on, disappearing into the undergrowth as Bramblenose shouts after him. Muttering curses under his breath, the red-brown tom plunges in after him. Not one to be left out of things, Sablepaw follows immediately. If Strongpaw's getting a scolding, she's sure as hell going to be there to witness it. The crashing behind her informs her that at least one remaining apprentice has followed her in.
The group comes to a halt on the edge of a tiny clearing. It's not a graceful stop; Strongpaw slides onto his haunches, Bramblenose trips over his tail and Sablepaw collides with the former. Silverpaw stumbles into the warrior and Sunpaw, of all of them, manages to stop without a misstep. She guesses it's the blood. No one wants to get their paws wet.
It's not immediately clear what they're looking at; Sablepaw processes it only as a misshapen bloody lump, perhaps some kind of fox or rogue. It has white fur, beneath the blood, and its mouth gapes open in an unheard scream. It has green eyes much like her own mentor's, she thinks offhandedly. It becomes clear that it's a cat.
"Sunpaw, go find Oakstar," Bramblenose says, unevenly. "He needs to be the first to know."
Sunpaw nods and dashes away. Silverpaw quails against the ground as she goes. For some ungodly, unknown reason, she locks eyes with Strongpaw and doesn't look away.
"StarClan," Bramblenose says, almost to himself. "I saw her this morning. She was talking to the kits."
It's a Clan cat, she thinks, distanced from it all. She looks a bit closer, staring past the blood and gore. If Bramblenose, an outsider, can figure out who it is, then she ought to know too. But she can't. This thing has no identity, no face to name. It's a creature of blood and death, and Sablepaw has never known death.
"Palefur," Strongpaw whispers, catching her eye again.
"Who did this?" she whispers back, but he has no answer for this.
"Look, there's tracks," Bramblenose announces, pointing to the far side of the clearing. No murder this messy could be escapable without leaving a trail; blood pools in the leaf litter and torn dirt of the forest floor, and an incriminating set of paw prints has splashed right through it. "They still seem fresh."
"Let's go then," Sablepaw says, sounding calmer than she feels. "We have a chance of catching up to it if we leave now." She gives Bramblenose a hard stare; she knows she's right. The older tom, however, just shakes his head.
"It's best to stay here in case someone comes along. Besides, your sister is in no state to track down whatever beast is out there." He's half right, at least; Silverpaw has not moved from her position on the ground, staring, with hollow eyes, and the gruesome scene before her. Silverpaw was never one for gore and gristle.
"We'll split up then. Bramblenose, you can stay here with Silverpaw. Sablepaw and I will go track it down." It's Strongpaw's suggestion, and she is surprised to find herself agreeing with him. Bramblenose opens his mouth to object, but Strongpaw continues before he can. "If we find it, we won't attack it. We'll make a note of what and where it is, and go find some warriors or something."
"Very well," the warrior replies, after a small moment of consideration. "Be careful. I want you back in camp before dark. Stay hidden."
"We will," Sablepaw says quickly, before he changes his mind. She shares another glance with Strongpaw, before they begin to edge around the pools of blood on the ground. Before they leave the clearing, careful not to disturb the dark tracks before them, she looks back at her sister. Bramblenose sits by her side, tail resting over her flanks. He's saying something, but it doesn't seem as though Silverpaw is listening. Wordlessly, Sablepaw turns around and leaves the clearing. They walk for a while in concentrated silence, watching the pawprints as though they might spring up from the ground and attack them. She lets Strongpaw lead them along, still not entirely sure how all this is making her feel- for once, he has no snarky comment or witty barb for her.
He motions for silence as a sound fills the air, as though she hasn't been creeping along without so much as stepping on a twig. It's a burbling, restless murmur; the harmless mumbling of a small stream. She just watches as Strongpaw flattens his ears to his skull.
The brook appears before them with no form of heraldry. The drops of blood and dark pawprints descend into the water; there are no tracks on the other side, no scent in the air to track. Strongpaw swears under his breath.
"We lost them," he murmurs, glaring into the mild current.
"There's nothing more we can do," she says gently, staring at the opposing bank. "We never would've found her if it weren't for you, anyway. Whatever it was, it will turn up sooner or later, and the Clan will take care of it."
"Take a close look," he says in return, gesturing at the patchy pawprints, faint and viscous. She squints down at them, the unassuming familiarity of their shape.
"Are you saying..?"
"Those belong to a cat," he says tightly. "I don't know if Bramblenose noticed. It could've been a rogue, sure, but it also could've been anyone in the Clan. Do you trust your mother, Sablepaw? Your father?"
She doesn't rise to this bait. The sun, after all, is sinking into the horizon, and there's nothing more they can do. "Let's go back to camp. It will be dark soon."
Embertooth ambushes the pair of them as they hurry into camp. The sun is seconds from disappearing entirely, and the two apprentices are filled with chills they can't shake.
"Where were you two?" she cries, throwing herself into Sablepaw's path. She presses a lick against her daughter's head. "I've been worried half to death, poor Bramblenose is up to his ears in trouble, and your sister won't speak to anyone!" She gives her kit a hard look, though Sablepaw had already suspected their actions wouldn't sit well with the senior warriors of the Clan. "Hello, Strongpaw," her mother adds, giving him a far warmer glance. "Your mother would like to speak with you."
Strongpaw just grimaces.
She is ushered across the camp to where her father sits with Pepperpaw. Silverpaw is nowhere to be seen; coincidentally, neither is Bramblenose. Thornstreak looks pensive, although this is nothing new. Sablepaw greets her brother with a shrug, which he returns with equal indifference. Their parents are worriers; they always have and will be. It is only now, Sablepaw fears, that there's a real threat out there worth worrying about. Embertooth presses a mouse into her paws as she sits.
"Was there lots of blood?" Pepperpaw asks, ripping into a vole. Small drops of blood spray across the ground. She didn't have much of one to begin with, but any trace of her appetite is now gone. She pushes the dead mouse away.
"Yes," Sablepaw says, avoiding the sight of her brother tearing into his meal with gusto. "I'd rather not talk about it." Embertooth hums with sympathy and lays her tail over her back.
"You should go rest," she urges. "Things won't seem so bleak in the morning."
"Tell that to Oakstar," her brother mutters, around a mouthful of meat. He has the audacity to look wounded after Thornstreak slaps his shoulder. Sablepaw just snorts and pads towards the apprentice den. It's empty, much to her relief.
She rests uneasily that night.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY URIE
this will be a three-shot but i have 0 time
there will be death and murder and love, don't worry