I know, I know, I'm an utterly terrible person. I have failed my promise of updating A Symphony of Secrets (which, let's face it, will probably never be updated again) and of keeping up with Illusions (rest assured, I'm not giving THAT one up anytime soon!). This idea has just been bugging me for a while and so I have finally decided to write it.
It takes place in the Tribe of Rushing Water, because I feel like they don't get enough recognition of how awesome they are (until you have managed to live inside a water fall, you can't say differently). This takes place quite a few years after Stormfur and Brook and their children passed away, so there will be entirely new characters, except for two, which you will see when I post the character list.
My utmost thanks and gratitude to ShoutFinder, for helping me with the names and the basic plot line. I hope I do your kitty justice! (If you haven't read her story Daughter of the sun, read it. Now. Well, after you read this, of course ;D)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Tribe, or the Warrior series in general.
0o0o0
It was dark in the clearing, the moon shrouded by clouds encroaching on the distant horizon. Only weak rays of light managed to shine through the nearly imperceptible crevices of the large gray masses that menacingly stalked the sky.
The area was empty of any forms of life, except for one figure crouching in the center. No wind stirred its long fur and its pelt was such a deep gray, one could simply miss it altogether. Milky blue eyes watched the overcast sky above, holding a certain unfathomable depth that would certainly make another uncomfortable.
A rustling sound pricked the ears of the cat. It titled its narrow head in the direction of the noise, the light catching the deep scar that lined its throat. It blinked its clouded eyes and slowly straightened from its pose.
"You've certainly kept me waiting long enough."
The newcomer, a large tabby, let out a rumbling purr. "In all the moons I have known you, Leap, I have never once kept you waiting." His broad paws carried him soundlessly until he stood in front of the she-cat. He bowed his head and the movement caused his transparent pelt to shimmer, his entire body faded from time. The only bright thing about him was his eyes, green and sparkling with playful mischief.
Leap of Startled Fish scoffed. "Then why does it seem like I've been sitting here like a bags of bones waiting for you for seasons, Claw?"
"I think you're just getting more impatient the older you get," Claw of Diving Heron teased, flicking his half of a tail in her direction.
"Are you calling me old?" the dark gray she-cat exclaimed, indignant.
"Of course not." Claw glanced at her and then quickly looked away. "Though your pelt says differently," he added softly, a slight hitch in his voice.
Leap looked down at her fur, grimacing when she noticed she could see through it to the grass underneath her. "It has been a while since I've looked at myself." She sighed wearily. "I've been here for more seasons than I care to remember. It's about time those moons caught up with me."
They sat in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, until the sound of a new arrival alerted them. Both turned to see a stocky blue-gray tom walking towards them, his scarred pelt slightly more solid than those of the two older cats. His yellow eyes narrowed when he saw Leap and Claw simply waiting.
"Where are the others?" he demanded, his voice scratchy and rough.
Claw dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Greetings, Fall. To answer your question, they haven't joined us yet. Obviously."
Fall of Splashing Water ignored the tabby's scorn, instead letting out an impatient growl and kneading the ground with his front paws. "What gives them the right to keep us waiting? They should be lucky we're even allowing them access here, considering they weren't even born in the Tribe!"
"Hold your tongue!" snarled Leap, glaring angrily at the tom. "They both have given more to the Tribe than you yourself ever did!"
Fall bristled at her scathing tone, but Claw stepped between them. "That's enough," he snapped. He looked at the other tom. "You know as well as the rest of us that they have more than earned their places in the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Crossing the realm between StarClan and here is not a quick, easy feat, Fall. We must be patient."
The blue-gray tom muttered something rude under his breath, but both Leap and Claw pretended not to hear him.
As if on cue, two incredibly bright stars appeared in the sky and, with a flash, two cats stood side by side a few tail-lengths from the three original ones. Claw had to blink multiple times before the bright spots faded from his vision.
"I'll never get used to that," grumbled Fall.
The cats standing together could not have been more opposite of the three ancient spirits. Stars coated their fur and sparkled on their paws; with every step they took, they left a trail of starlight in their wake. And, unlike Leap, Fall, and Claw, their pelts were completely opaque and solid looking. One would have guessed they were alive, had it not been from the soulful wisdom in their eyes and the shifting light on their glimmering pelts.
One, a silver tabby she-cat dipped her head and waved her plumy tail. "Hello again!" she meowed, her voice high and light.
"Greetings, Feathertail, Stormfur," Leap mewed, flicking her ear. Her voice lost some of its raggedness as she gazed at the brother and sister. "How are your Clans fairing?"
Stormfur purred softly. "There is a period of peace at the lake, at last," he informed, amber eyes glowing.
"How excellent!"
"And how's the Tribe?" Worry was etched on every feature of Feathertail's expression. Even the dimmest cat would have noticed the terror scent that rolled off the pelts of the three, how they couldn't quite erase the despair from their eyes. "You've called us for a reason, I assume?"
"Not good," Claw admitted, green eyes giving away just how concerned he was. "Prey has been especially scarce this season. I fear once the next time of frozen water comes along, there will be nothing left to hunt."
"Not only that," Fall added, for once leaving the condescending tone from his words, "but there's a new threat coming to the Tribe; one that none of us ever dared to dream of."
Stormfur cocked his broad head. "Not another Sharptooth?"
Leap let out a low hiss. "Unfortunately, this is not something that we can see or physically fight off."
"Well then what is it?" Feathertail asked, slightly exasperated.
"The Ancients have spoken to me," the dark gray she-cat explained haltingly. "They've told me that the next time of frozen water to come will be the last one we ever have."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that after the next time of frozen water, that's all the Tribe and the rest of the mountains will ever experience. There will no longer be a time of freed water, or a time of shortened sun."
"So instead of three seasons…" Stormfur murmured.
"There will only be one," finished Feathertail, eyes wide with dismay. "This is horrible! The Tribe barely survives as is, and that's when there's only one time of frozen water for five moons! Is there any way to stop it from happening?"
Claw shook his head, ears pressed flat against his skull. "We have sent a message to StarClan through Jayfeather, but we have heard nothing in return. Without their help, there is no hope for the Tribe's survival."
At this, Leap spoke up. Her voice was so quiet; the other four almost didn't hear her. "There is a way it could be stopped."
Fall and Claw swung their heads around to gape at her, stunned expressions on their features. "What?" they shouted in unison.
"And why is this the first time we have heard anything about this?" Fall demanded. "You had us thinking that our Tribemates were going to die!"
"I never said it would work," she snapped, defensive. "The Ancients spoke with me just before we all came here tonight. I have barely had time to process it and what it might mean, or even if it is possible, for that matter!"
Stormfur unsheathed his claws and raked them against the ground, eyes burning with amber fire. "If it means the salvation of the Tribe, we will make sure it works."
"Please," Feathertail begged, "what did the Ancients say?"
Leap exhaled heavily, her shoulders slumping forward. It seemed as if her whole body sagged with the weight of the Tribe's fate, like a boulder on her back. She examined her paws, the sight of their sheerness tugging at her heart. She returned her attention to the younger cats in front of her, scolding herself for getting distracted. There are more important things to be thinking about than how much time you have left, she admonished herself.
"Well?" Fall prompted.
The gray she-cat cleared her throat and answered, "Our ancestors called me to them tonight and told me that they have found a solution to the Great Freeze. However, when I asked what it was, they wouldn't tell me."
Claw blinked. "What do you mean they wouldn't tell you?"
Leap shrugged. "They wouldn't go into detail of just what exactly it was, only that it would involve one of the cats from the Tribe of Rushing Water."
"Who?" wondered Feathertail. "Stoneteller?"
"That ancient cat?" Fall scoffed. "He's old, blind, and hardly ever leaves the Cave of Pointed Stones anymore!"
Claw cuffed him on the head. "You really need to learn to shut up," he growled, green eyes flashing.
"If it's not Stoneteller, who would it be?" Stormfur gave his chest fur a few thoughtful licks. "Sky, perhaps? Or Perch?"
"No, no, no." Leap shook her narrow head. "Apparently the one to save the Tribe is supposed to be born tonight."
Claw glanced at her, stunned. "You're telling us the fate of the mountains rests on the shoulders of a kit?"
"A kit is not a kit forever, Claw," she stated sharply. "The Ancients told me it would be born tonight, that we would know it when we saw it."
Fall peered up at the darkening sky. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as something clicked in his mind. "Cloud is kitting tonight!" he cried, turning to the others.
"Cloud?" Stormfur echoed.
Leap stared at him, dozens of thoughts whirling in her head as the pieces slowly came together to make sense. "Cloud that Floats in Sky is the daughter of Dusk that Fall Slowly," she began slowly. "He's the son of Pine that Clings to Rock-"
"My son!" gasped Stormfur.
Leap nodded solemnly. "This kit will be kin of your kin."
"It'll be born in the Tribe, but have the blood of the Clans in its veins," whispered Feathertail. "However faint it may be."
Fall shook his head in disbelief. "It's like the tribe isn't even pure anymore," he grumbled.
"What did you say?" snarled Stormfur, rounding on the blue-gray tom. His long fur lifted along his spine and his hackles began to rise. "You'd be wise to remember that this is my kin that's saving your Tribe, Fall; not the other way around."
For once, Fall appeared guilty of the harsh words that had left his tongue. He dropped his yellow eyes to the ground, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
Feathertail brushed her tail down her brother's back, smoothing the ruffled fur. "Peace, Stormfur," she murmured. "This is not a time for petty quarrels." The large gray tom wore a look on his face that said he clearly disagreed, but he relaxed his aggressive stance anyway.
"And the Ancients didn't give any other clue as to what this solution is?" Claw's green eyes were narrowed and vaguely annoyed.
Leap shook her head. "They only said the kit would be born tonight at moonhigh, when the moon is full and yellow in its belly. That is all I know."
"So what do we do now?" breathed Feathertail.
A beat passed as all five of the spirits considered her unnerving question. After a few heartbeats, they could only come up with one answer.
"We wait?" Fall repeated, looking quite irritated at having to test his slim amount of patience yet again.
Leap gazed at the intimidating sky once more and nodded once. "We wait."
0o0o0
The large black tom paced the floor of the cave, his long legs eating up the ground. His paws were white as snow and his blue eyes focused intently on the huge dead tree, which jutted out over other rocks and whose gnarled roots resembled giant claws, a few tail-lengths from where he stalked. His ears were pricked for the slightest hint of a sound from inside the hole of the tree, his fur fluffed up against the cold breeze that flowed from the mouth of the cave.
Worry clawed at his heart like a falcon picking its prey: Why hadn't he heard anything? His mind raced with the endless possibilities of what could have happened and he abruptly shook his head to erase the terrible thoughts.
A pale tabby tom sat watching him, posture straight and striped tail wrapped around his paws. His long wispy fur was ruffled, making him appear almost twice his usual size. "You're going to wake up the rest of the Tribe with your ceaseless pacing, Wing," he commented casually.
Wing of Feathered Eagle halted just long enough to throw a peeved glance at the other tom. "I'd like to see you sit still while your mate was kitting!" he retorted.
Perch of Snowy Owl let out a soft mrrow of laughter. "This is the exact reason why I never want to have kits. You're driving yourself mad with your anxiety! Cloud is not the first kit-mother to ever have given birth, you know."
"I know that, Perch," Wing muttered, lashing his black tail back and forth as he continued his relentless pacing. "You just don't understand how scared I am that something's going to go wrong."
Perch rolled his green eyes. "You fail to remember that Cloud is my sister as much as she is your mate," he pointed out. "I, however, choose to be optimistic about this situation and not a depressing beetle-brain like you."
Wing spun around, eyes wide and frantic. "She could die, Perch!" he cried, slicing his claws against the stone floor so that a soft zing sounded. "It happens all the time!"
All humor escaped the cave-guard's expression as he grew serious at his friend's words. He rose to his paws and padded over to the tom, butting his head against Wing's shoulder. "She's going to be fine," he meowed reassuringly. "Flight is with her, and she has Leaf for support. What happens now is out of our power; no use getting gray hairs on our muzzles over something beyond our control."
Wing sighed and plopped down hard on his haunches, looking worn out and tired. "She barely has any meat on her bones, though," he whispered, his voice aching. "I've done so many extra hunting parties just so she could have more caught-prey but it hasn't been enough."
Perch gazed around the Cave of Rushing Water, his eyes roaming over his Tribemates asleep in their nests of feathers, struggling to preserve what little warmth they could. He then examined himself, noting the ribs poking out from beneath his tabby pelt. "We have all suffered this time of frozen water," he mewed quietly. "There is never enough prey during this season for every one of us to be full at the same time."
They sat together listening to the pounding waterfall outside the cave for a few moments before he added, "My sister is a strong she-cat, Wing. It'll take more than a few kits to make her join the Tribe of Endless Hunting." Wing nodded, grateful for his friend's words.
Suddenly, there came a shrill wail from inside the Tree Rock and the two toms jumped. Wing leapt to his paws and made to go inside when Perch's tail stopped him. The black prey-hunter glared at him.
"I need to see if she's alright!" he snapped.
"Toms are not allowed inside during the kitting, Wing. You know this."
Wing groaned and slumped down onto the ice-cold cave floor. "This is agonizing…"
Perch let out a rumbling purr that reverberated through his stocky frame. "Don't let the she-cats hear you say that," he meowed lightly. "They'll rant about how we 'don't know agony 'til we've kitted' until you'll want to claw your own ears off!"
Wing let out a huff of laughter. "That's true."
The two toms continued their low conversation until a slender golden and white she-cat poked her head out from inside the hollow. Her amber eyes were bright and warm as she mewed, "Wing, come meet your new kits."
Not needing any more prompting, the black tom leapt to his paws and dashed into the Tree Rock, while Perch rushed towards the Cave of Pointed Stones to alert Stoneteller. Wing entered the warm den and waited until his eyes adjusted to the dim yellow moonlight that peeked through a small hole at the top of the tree.
A pale gray tabby she-cat lay on her side in a bed of feathers, flanks heaving up and down in steady breaths as she gazed lovingly at the two tiny kits that suckled at her stomach. A heavily pregnant creamy brown she-cat crouched beside her, her expression soft as she looked at the kit-mother. He hurried over, careful not to step on anyone's tail.
"Cloud?"
The gray she-cat lifted her head and purred loudly when she caught sight of her mate. "Oh, Wing," she breathed, stretching out a paw towards him. "Aren't they perfect?"
Wing nuzzled her and turned his attention to his new kits. Both were toms, though that was about the only thing they had in common. One, the much bigger of the two, had inherited his father's deep russet and black colored pelt and white paws. The other was a lithe silver tabby who resembled his mother, though Wing could see traces of himself in the kit's narrow-shaped head and its slightly-too-big ears.
"They're beautiful," he whispered, bending down to give each of his sons a lick. "What shall we name them?"
Cloud rested her tail on the dark furred kit and answered, "This one will be Fir that Breaks the Wind, because of this Tree Rock that has kept us all warm. And this one," she pointed to the silver tabby, "will be Song of the Falling Falcon."
Wing tilted his head curiously. "A bit of an unusual name, isn't it?"
Cloud shrugged. "He was the last to be born and as soon as he came out, I heard the cry of a lonely falcon outside the Cave of Rushing Water."
"She was the only one who seemed to hear it though," Leaf of Twisted Branch, the pregnant brown she-cat, admitted.
Flight of Golden Lark shook her head, amused. "I'm surprised anyone could hear anything over Cloud's wailing and your babbling." The golden and white she-cat's tone was teasing and good-natured.
"Let me through!" a gruff, raspy voice interrupted. "Everyone who isn't a parent of these kits, leave now before we all suffocate in here!"
Leaf glanced sympathetically at Cloud. "Good luck with that crazy old tom," she murmured before following Flight back out into the camp.
A small tomcat with a matted gray pelt shoved his way into the hollow, a bundle of herbs under his chin. His blind amber eyes instantly flickered to where Cloud lay and he padded towards her with an ease that never failed to amaze any of the Tribe cats. He placed the herbs gently on the ground and instantly began to question Cloud.
"Are you experiencing any pain?"
"Not much."
"Any discomfort in your sides?"
"Nope."
"Any-" Teller of the Pointed Stones broke off unexpectedly.
Wing and Cloud exchanged a bewildered glance. "Stoneteller?" the black tom asked, confused. "Are you alright?"
Ignoring the tom's concern, Stoneteller bent down and peered at the two kits as if he could actually see them. "How strange…" he murmured, sniffing the two bundles of fur.
"Excuse me?"
His eyes flickered up at the two parents. "What are their names?" he demanded urgently.
Startled at his tone, Cloud stammered out the names of her kits. "Stoneteller, is something wrong?"
"Wrong?" He shook his small gray head and twitched his whiskers dismissively. "Nothing is wrong, Cloud. There's just something about this one…" He place one paw on Song's small silver tabby body; however, he instantly pulled back as if burned. His wide, blind amber eyes stared at the kit, his whole body quivering. "Oh…"
"What is it?" Wing all but shouted, beyond the point of exasperation with his Healer's cryptic murmurings.
Stoneteller, of course, ignored him. He cocked his head to the left, as if listening to something only he could hear, as he continued to gaze at the kit. "Such power for someone so small," he whispered. "What a hard path you have to walk, little one." He bent down and touched his nose very gently to Song. "You have a great destiny ahead of you, if you choose to accept it."
After a heartbeat passed, Stoneteller abruptly straightened and backed away from the kits. He swiftly sorted the herbs in front of him and pushed a few blue plants towards a stunned Cloud. "Eat these borage leaves to help with your milk. Fir is going to train as a cave-guard and Song will be a prey-hunter. They both are healthy and will be fine. Goodnight."
And with that, he turned and stalked out of the hollow, leaving two very shocked, very confused parents behind.
0o0o0
"It is decided," Leap meowed quietly to the other four cats around her. "The one that will save us was born at the exact moment the moon reached its peak."
"How many kits are there?" Stormfur asked excitedly, seeming for the moment to forget that one had the fate of the Tribe on his tiny shoulders.
Leap let out a small rusty purr despite the grave mood that hovered over them. "There are two healthy toms, Fir and Song."
Pride gleamed in the StarClan tom's amber eyes. Feathertail twined her tabby tail with her brother's, blue eyes soft and gentle. "Congratulations," she mewed.
"We still don't even know what it is that the Ancients have in store for him," Fall reminded them. "Or even if this is going to work. What if he doesn't accept his destiny?"
Claw shook his head. "Oh, Fall," he sighed, "always so cynical. At least now we have a shred of hope that this next time of frozen water will not be the last of the Tribe."
"We have done all we can for now," Leap declared in finality, rising to her paws and giving her small body a long, quivering stretch. "The rest lies in the paws of the Ancients and the kit. We will guide him when we can, but it is ultimately up to him to figure out his destiny."
The four cats nodded in understanding. Fall heaved himself to his paws and nodded once at the other spirits. "Until we meet again." He turned and padded swiftly away from the group, instantly disappearing with no more than a rustle of the wind.
Feathertail yawned and gave her muzzle a wipe with her paw. "We'd best be going as well," she meowed.
Stormfur nodded in agreement. "We'll talk to the ones in StarClan to see if they've ever heard of something like this, though I'm afraid they won't know much about it."
"Every little bit will help, at this point," replied Claw, green eyes dark with despair.
Leap touched her nose to Feathertail's and then Stormfur's. "Thank you for all that you have done to help us. Where would we be had the Clans not saved us in our times of need?"
Feathertail swallowed and whispered, "I'd rather not think about that."
Stormfur turned to Claw. "Give my love to Brook and my kits, would you? Tell them I'll see them next time I come."
Claw dipped his head. "Of course I will," he assured.
"Good hunting to you both," meowed Leap. "I hope the next time we see each other it'll be on less somber terms."
The two StarClan cats nodded and padded away across the vast, treeless meadow, eventually fading in a burst of blinding light. The two stars that had occupied the menacing sky before were now gone, casting the clearing in the same dusk as before.
Claw cleared his throat and shook out his tabby pelt. "Do you think this kit will save us, Leap?"
The she-cat sighed again, her washed-out eyes showing the exhaustion that came only from moons of existing in the Tribe of Endless Hunting. "I don't know, Claw," she responded. "I really don't know."
Claw accepted this with a nod of his head. "I'd better get going," he meowed. "Splash is waiting for me."
"Tell her I said hello."
"I will."
He dipped his head, waved his tail in farewell, and then he, too, eventually vanished among the night. Leap stood alone in the gloomy clearing, listening to the ominous thunder rumble across the vast sky.
"Oh, ancestors," she pleaded, "please, do not let this be the last of the Tribe. They have suffered more than enough since they've come to the mountains. Please."
She waited, but the only response was a clap of lightning and the rolling, tumbling breeze that she would never feel again.
So, I know this might be pretty confusing, so I'll explain the terminology.
Time of frozen water = winter
Time of freed water = spring
Time of shortened sun = fall
Beetle-brain = idiot
Caught-prey = fresh-kill
Tree Rock = a tree that is embedded into the mountains, where the kit-mothers usually give birth. (This is not something I made up; it's in the actual Warrior series.)
They only have three seasons because they're in the mountains and there's not usually that many seasons that last a long time, you know? The rest of the chapters won't really switch between the Tribe of Rushing Water and the Tribe of Endless Hunting much, unless it is needed. Sorry if the names might confuse you, but the characters will be included in the next chapter :)
Please review and tell me what you think!
