Running, a warriors fanfic

It all began with that day, I suppose, or perhaps it was earlier, when he first began meeting her. We were just apprentices then. There was no rivalry, no fights, no talk of the so-called "grown-up stuff" like mates and kits. It was just carefree day upon carefree day, with no worries at all. We were the Four Friends, together forever like TigerClan and their stripes. Like a mother and her kits.

Of course, it was too good to be true, as I soon learned.

Whitepaw, a tom with a pelt true to his name, was my best and closest friend. And we stayed that way, I guess; but it just wasn't the same. Not with another she-cat in the mix.

I was born less feminine than other she-cats, and my tom-like name, Lightningpaw, matched my personality. I was small and lithe and ran quickly, like the wind. And on that day and the ones following, running kept me busy. Not thinking.

On that day, I woke up at dawn. Though Ravenpaw and Nightpaw were there, Whitepaw was nowhere to be seen; in the den or WindClan camp. I tracked his scent from there all the way to Twolegplace, pushing through brambles and ferns past the moor in my hurry to get to him. It didn't occur to me that he didn't want to be found. I was a hare-brain, and I probably still am. To this day I know I still would have followed him.

It was a shock to me, for lack of a better word, to see him there. With her. She had fluffy white fur, and Whitepaw was talking to her dreamily, like I've seen my parents speak to each other before. I bristled in an unknown fury, my claws raking the ground. It was only because of my promise that I did not attack either one of them.

It was a nice day, for leaf-fall. The red and orange and yellow colors swirled everywhere.

"Can't catch me," I teased as the bulkier tom-kits chased behind me.

"Oh yeah?" asked Ravenkit, speeding up a bit.

"Yeah!" I jumped over a log, but the other three, all simutaneously distracted, crashed into it and got in a tangled heap of fur.

Nightkit giggled as he sat up, squashing the other two tomkits. "We'll always be friends, right?"

"Mhmm." Whitekit nodded best as he could underneath his friend, extremely fast. He said something else that was more muffled, then scrambled away. "StarClan, Nightkit, you sure are heavy!"

"You're telling me!" Ravenkit grumbled as he, too, freed himself.

I lifted my head high, feeling regal and as dignified as Foxstar. "From now to forever, I swear that I shall be forever friends with Whitekit, Ravenkit, and Nightkit."

Nightkit —always the intelligent one— was the first to catch on. "And I for Lightningkit, Whitekit, and Ravenkit.

Whitekit and Ravenkit soon took the promise. Though it seemed that day just another childish game, the pledge followed us for the rest of our lives, and nothing could break it.

Not even that she-cat.

"Whitepaw!" I called sharply from my spot between some trees. "What are you doing?" I already knew the answer.

The handsome tom jerked his head up, golden eyes alert. "What? Oh, I . . ." His voice trailed off.

"You are breaking the warrior code," I stated.

"No, I wasn't!" Whitepaw protested quickly. "Flutter was just interested in Clan life, and so we started talking and then I lost track of time and she said she wants to join the Clan, and—"

Flutter. I snorted in disbelief. Numerous conjunctions were Whitepaw's nervous way of claiming he wasn't guilty of something. And. And. And. But. But. But.

"Take her to camp," I said blankly, then whipped around. Ignoring the undergrowth near the Twolegplace, ignoring the painful thorns in my pelt, I ran. Not to camp. Not to anywhere. I let the wind take me where it wanted me to. I felt light and free when I ran. It was what I loved, and it could never be taken away from me, or so I thought. I took running for granted, then. Now I do not.

And so I ran and ran and ran, away from my troubles and strange new feeling. Around the WindClan boundaries, in the moor and meadows, I ran. And only when it was later in the morning did I return.

When I came back, Flutter had been accepted by Foxstar. I missed the ceremony, and I was secretly glad.

Apparently Ravenpaw and Nightpaw took a liking to the newly named 'Flutterpaw' just like Whitepaw. It was that which leaded to a few events, some big some insignificant and small:

I ran. Lots.

She beat me during a training session. I was humiliated; but if I had gone all out, someone would be bleeding to death.

I let her have the best rabbit on the fresh-kill pile, even though I was starving. The smile on Whitepaw's face was worth it.

But most devastating of all: She became a part of the group. Four friends, the name we used for so long, were changed to Five friends. It was wrong. Unnatural. She took the pledge, but I did not add her to my list of friends, to the list of cats I would give my life for.

"Then from this day on, I name you Lightningwind!" Foxstar yowled, announcing my new name to the sky. He rested his muzzle on my forehead, and I licked his shoulder in return. StarClan, can you see me?

"Whiteheart! Ravenstorm! Nightclaw! Flutterbird! Lightningwind!"

I groomed down a patch of my gray fur and looked down at the crowd. I could see pride in my kin's eyes, but it seemed everyone else cheered Flutterbird's name the loudest.

No. You're just being paranoid.

I hoped I was.

It was near dusk, and cats retreated to their spots, scattered around the WindClan camp. The new warriors and I stood vigil. I felt a storm of envy rising in me as Flutterbird rested her head on Whiteheart's shoulder, who pulled away uncomfortably. Flutterbird shivered.

"I'm cold," she meowed, like a kit out of the nursery for the first time. All four of us, even Whiteheart, glared at her, and Flutterbird shrank in her pelt as she realized that she had broken the rules.

Nothing eventful happened over the hours as the sun completely set and rose up again. Once the other cats woke up and we were dismissed, I allowed myself to yawn and stretch languidly. The others followed, each doing their own unique morning routine.

"Good morning!" I called out. Another one of the Four —never Five, never— friends' customs.

"Good morning!"

Silence. Flutterbird looked up from grooming her fluffy pelt and muttered a "good morning".

I was conscious of Whiteheart staring at me. Was there something wrong with my pelt? I smoothed the ruffled fur and pushed the thought away. Who cared about fur, anyway? Flutterbird narrowed her eyes for probably the first time ever in her soft life.

"Lightningwind!" she squeaked, in a silly, girly kind of way. If one didn't see her right there they would've thought a kit was talking. "Let's go hunting!"

"You're not the judge of that." Whiteheart, Ravenstorm, Nightclaw, Flutterbird and I all looked up at the same time to see Reedfur, the deputy.

"But I suppose you two could go and catch a few rabbits," the brown tabby relented after several moments. "Restock the fresh-kill pile; our queens are hungry."

So Flutterbird and I set out. I wanted this hunt to be quick and easy —the sooner it was over, the better— and so I followed the trail of a rabbit when Flutterbird suddenly blocked my way, standing in front of me.

"Going somewhere?" she hissed mockingly, a new side to the she-cat I had never heard or seen before.

"Oh, you know," I said, trying to keep my cool. She's still just at the skill level of a fat kittypet. What harm can she do? "Hunting."

"Hmm. I wonder how well you can chase rabbits when you can't run . . ." I could see a deranged, wild look in her eyes.

It all happened so fast. Flutterbird shoved me over and put her muzzle close to my ear. "I saw the way he looked at you this morning. He's head-over-heels in love with you, but I'm going to change that." I could barely breathe. Flutterbird had pressed a paw on my chest, her green eyes filled with loathing. The other one traced my hind leg slowly. Intuitively.

"Can you run without a leg? Well. Why don't we test it out . . ." Her breath was hot on my muzzle. "Why don't we take away the thing you love most, like you just did today with me?"

What did I ever do? You were the one who ruined my life!

"You're crazy," I croaked feebly. My mouth felt dry.

"Maybe. But you're the only one who knows that."

"Oof!" Whitekit ran into the rock again —for the fifth time that day, clumsy kit. "Why do you always win?" he asked me, twitching his nose.

"Because I'm a she-cat," I said, proudly. Immaturely.

"Hmph." Nightkit finished the race in third place and jumped on me. Ravenkit followed and Whitekit leaped onto the pile. Soon we were tussling in a large group all over the grassy camp floor.

"I wonder how hard it would be to run without a leg?" Nightkit wondered, sitting up.

Being kits, we thought he was a genius.

"Why don't we try it?" Whitekit asked, an excited twinkle in his eye.

Somehow, I ended up having one of my legs tied to Ravenkit's with some type of stiff weed. Whitekit was wrapping another one around him and Nightkit.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready!" we shouted together.

"One," I mewed.

"Two."

"Three!"

We raced off. I dragged heavy Ravenkit in my hurry to reach the finish line; the apprentices' den.

Whitekit and Nightkit were working together, but Ravenkit was too slow and I was too frustrated to try and work with him. We came in second place, just as the weed snapped. I hated the feeling of being confined, to depend on another cat and work as a team.

"Ha!" crowed Whitekit. "You lost!"

I lost... Because I couldn't run without all four legs.

Fear enveloped me as Flutterbird unsheathed her claws on the paw that was running over my leg.

Then pain.

Black pain. It burst from my leg like a butterfly from a cocoon. I felt woozy.

Pain, thumped my heart. Pain, pain, pain.

Flutterbird grabbed my scruff none too gently. The smell of fresh blood made me dizzy, and getting dragged around like that made me want to throw up.

The last thing I saw was a river of blood. A river of my blood.

All because on that day, I found Whitepaw and Flutter.

Even if I did live, it would be hard. I couldn't run anymore.

My eyes suddenly opened wide at that thought. I didn't feel Flutter shoving me all the way to camp. I didn't feel the sting of the herbs as Featherlight treated my stump of a leg.

All I felt, all I knew was the numb, despairing certainty:

I will never run again.

Never, never, never.

And the cat I love —yes, love— will never want me, not anymore.

Never, never, never.