A/N: This is my first foray into writing for the Warriors fandom in several months. I have recently developed this new writing style and am seeing if it works for this fandom. Critiques and reviews would be amazing, but even more amazing would be if you lovely warriors would swing by my forum. It is the Warriors Challenge Forum. Please, let me know what you all think!
"You know," Honeypaw meows, breaking the silence that was settled over their patch of the territory, head tilted up and eyes locked on the glittering expanse of Silverpelt that she can see through the oak trees. "My mother used to say that not all cats join Starclan. Sometimes, they stay behind even after they die. Just to watch over their clan-mates."
Birdpaw rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Honeypaw can come up with the oddest of things, he muses, ever since her mother, Fernhollow, passed away from greencough. Things that don't make sense: like an after-world other than the Dark Forest or Starclan and of lands far away and unimaginable or, like now, of cats that don't go to be with their ancestors in any form. But they had been friends since kit-hood and he always tried to humor her.
"Why would they do that? They can watch over us just fine from Starclan. You have to think these things through more, Honeypaw!" Birdpaw meows, only half joking. "One of these days, you saying things like that will get you in trouble."
And he only wants what's best for her. Honeypaw is his best friend, his only friend, the one cat in the entire clan that believes in him and what he wants to accomplish and thinks that he can really do it, and he worries about her all the time. She doesn't think things through enough, never stops to plan how things could go, and one of these days that will get her hurt. Or worse - but Birdpaw doesn't like to think about that, about how things could end up with her being a new warrior, and instead focuses on the different punishments her mentor could give her.
Last time, it was Elder-Den duty for a moon.
The time before that, Honeypaw was kept from battle training.
Next time, Darkflight says it will be a two moon delay in recieving her warrior name.
Beside him Honeypaw just purrs and closes her eyes. She tilts her head back further, pricks her light ginger ears forward, and relishes in the feel of warm air blowing through her ginger and white pelt. Even if Birdpaw doesn't understand that not everything is as simple as it seems, she does.
And things are about to get far from being simple.
"Let all cats old enough to gather their own prey gather here before me at the High-Rock!" Wolfstar's yowl echoes through the Thunderclan camp, rousing the clan from their slumber. It isn't far before morning but the camp is just as dark as if it were still moon-high. Heavy clouds hang in the sky, covering the sun and throwing a shadow over everything. There is a thick low-hanging mist in the air that makes their pelts lay flat and feel damp.
Birdpaw pushes his way out of the apprentice den and pauses outside to stretch and shake some of the dampness from his fur. It's a useless attempt and he knows it - between the mist and the large pools of water on the ground it isn't likely that he'll be dry for a long while. Still he does his best to get the extra moisture out of his dark brown tabby pelt.
"Hurry up, Birdpaw!" Honeypaw meows as she bounces out of the den behind him. She doesn't pause to try and groom herself, just bounds right over to the High-Rock where several other cats have already gathered.
It's wierd to see the usually reserved cat so excited but, honestly, Birdpaw feels the same way. They both know what is going to happen once everycat wakes up and gathers at their leader's paws - at least to a point they do because Wolfstar always has an ulterior motive for his gatherings, never just a single announcement.
With a final flick of his ears, Birdpaw gathers himself up and goes to join Honeypaw. The two shoulder and nudge their way through the gathered cats until they can find a space to sit, side by side, at the very front. Up ontop of the rock their shaggy pelted leader is gazing down at them all with his serious blue eyes.
"I have called you all here this morning for two reasons. First!" Wolfstar yowls. "I am proud to announce that two of our apprentices, Birdpaw and Honeypaw, are ready to recieve their warrior names!"
A cheer goes up and Birdpaw is stumbling forward as the cat behind him, Mousestorm he thinks, shoves him. It's ungraceful and undignified, especially when compared to the small and dainty steps that Honeypaw takes up to her leader. Birdpaw has to hurry after her so they arrive at the High-Rock at the same time.
Wolfstar is down and by their sides in a single bound and wastes no time in starting the ceremony. "Birdpaw. Honeypaw. Do the two of you swear to protect your clan, first and foremost, and to always follow the Warriors Code? To fight and to die for your fellow Thunderclan cats? No matter what the fight is for?"
Birdpaw wrinkles his nose and twitches his ears as he meets Wolfstar's gaze. That isn't how the ceremony normally goes but it isn't the first time that he's switched them up before. It doesn't really matter to Birdpaw at that moment anyway because everything that Wolfstar is asking is something he can answer 'yes' to. So he doesn't hesitate in nodding his head. "I swear."
Beside him, Honeypaw pauses. Her light green eyes narrow and, for a moment, Birdpaw thinks she's going to challenge Wolfstar and his new ceremony. But then she nods and gives the same meow that Birdpaw did, only in that softer, quieter voice of hers.
"Good." Wolfstar nods at them both, though to Birdpaw it seems as though his gaze lingers longer on Honeypaw than it does on himself. "Then from here on out you shall be known as Birdflight and Honeysplash."
The rest of the clan cheers and calls out their new names: Birdflight, Honeysplash, Birdflight, Honeysplash!
Birdflight lifts his head up high and relishes in the feeling of the entire clan paying attention to him, of everyone knowing who he is, of being in the center of it all - no longer a kit but a true warrior of Thunderclan.
Birdflight spends most of his first day as a warrior sitting just inside the entrance to his new den. Soon after he and Honeysplash recieved their names, the sky opened up and let loose a second barrage of rain. It was a harsher storm then the one the night before so most of the cats, the ones not needed for patrols, were taking shelter in their dens.
As he sits there, watching the rain hit the ground with a pitter-pat-splash, he thinks. Not about his new status, but about how off Wolfstar's words seem now.
No matter what the fight is for?
It just doesn't seem right to him. Even for a leader that changed the words no one else messed with on a regular basis, they weren't normal. And now that the euphoria of being a warrior has begun to dull, just slightly, he can see that. But Honeysplash isn't around to talk to and, honestly, he doesn't trust anyone else enough to speak to them about it.
They don't seem to have noticed it anyway.
It's still raining, and raining hard, when Birdflight and Honeysplash have to start their vigil. Within moments, both cats are soaked to the bone. Their pelts are flattened against skin, heavy and cold, and it all seems useless to Birdflight anyway because they can't see a thing through all the grey coming down.
He wants to ask Honeysplash what she's been doing all day. What she thought about Wolfstar's ceremony, which just sounds more and more odd the longer he thinks about it, and how she feels about being a warrior. Maybe even ask her what Darkflight said. His own mentor, Robinsong, had been ecstatic for him; she said that the name he recieved fit him perfectly. Most importantly, he wants to ask her why she looks so worried.
But none of that can be asked until the morning and there isn't anything to look at except for dark grey and brown smears.
It is the next night before Birdflight even catches a glimpse of Honeysplash. She's crouched in front of the den of their Medicine Cat, Whisperbreeze, with two other warriors; Pigionhop and Embercloud. The three are standing close together, heads bowed and faces serious. They're whispering, though Birdflight cannot make out a single word. It sends a sense of unease throguh him, seeing them standing there like that, but he pushes that aside and walks over to them anyway.
"Honeysplash!" He meows, and he flicks his tail in her direction. "I've been looking for you."
The moment he speaks, the huddle breaks apart. Pigionhop casts him a nasty look, amber eyes narrowed and grey ears plastered to her head. Embercloud just turns and bounds off, water and mud splashing up into his firebrand fur with each step. Honeysplash frowns.
"What?" She asks. And that's all that is said, in a voice plain and uncaring and maybe even a little irritated sounding.
Birdflight hesitates. Honeysplash never speaks to him, or anycat, like that. Never. And she never looks at him with anger in her eyes - except she is right then and it's almost enough to make her quail and just continue on to try and find another cat to be her hunting partner. Instead, he flicks his ears backward and steel himself.
"I said I've been looking for you." Birdflight repeats.
"I heard you." Honeysplash says. "And I asked, what? As in what do you want?"
'I wanted to ask you if you feel wrong about the ceremony too. If how Wolfstar's acting isn't just off to me.' That is what Birdflight wants to say. Just like he always does -because Honeysplash always listen to his concerns, and he to hers. But he just can't do it. He can't tell her that when she isn't acting normal.
Instead, he shakes his head and takes a step backwards, away from Honeysplash.
Never mind." He tells her, and he forces his voice to be just as empty and controlled as hers is. "It's not important."
And then he turns and leaves, heading to the far corner of their camp to see if Dappledheart wants to go hunting with her instead.
It is Birdflight's third night being able to call himself a warrior of Thunderclan, and everything has come to a stand-still. The rain has stopped, though the sky is still dark and threatening to spill over once more. The leaves are still, almost frozen in place, now that the wind has died down to almost nothing. The clan has grown silent - somber almost, just like the world around them. The only noise that Birdflight can hear is the quiet murmur of Skyflower as she tells the kit a tale.
Skyflower has taken a seat at the base of the log the Elders live in. Her long blue-ish silver legs are folded neatly under her, blind blue eyes only half-open, and even in a task as simple as a story for the kits she looks serene. At peace. Uncaring of the fact that the other two Elders are casting annoyed glances her way - it is almost dusk and they were trying to relax, to sleep. They don't appreciate her 'entertainment'.
Around Skyflower, who is the youngest of the Elders, forced to retire before she was even an apprentice due to the fact that she was born with no sight, is a small group of kits. The youngest of the bunch, Stonekit, is only three moons old. The oldest, Pebblekit, is almost six moons.
The young cats are giving her their complete attention. Even though it's something that they've heard many times before, Skyflower has a way with weaving images into her words. The silver-sheened she-cat can turn even the plainest of stories into a master piece that will have all who hears it leaning on their forepaws, eager to hear what happens next.
Birdflight is not immune to the Elders voice.
Slowly his eating comes to a halt, and he places the squirrle he'd been eating closer to the wall of brush that lines the warriors den. He stands up and shakes the grass from his dark pelt, stretches his hind legs, and then walks over and joins the circle of kits with a purr.
"And Lightmist looked upon her sister and shook her head. There was nothing that Amberglow could do for her and she knew it. The slash on her stomach was too deep, the scarlet stain on her once white pelt too large. She was dieing; and with her the promise of peace in Thunderclan would also die. But it was not her forest nor her clan that Lightmist felt grief for. No. Lightmist was grieving for Amberglow, the one cat that had put her life at risk for a younger sister that made no effort of staying alive.'
'Amberglow sat watch over her sister that night. She stayed in the ditch that Lightmist, her kin and her enemy, was slain in. And as she howled, the clouded sky cleared for the first time in many moons. Upon Amberglow a light, brighter than the brightest star, shined. Lightmist was home - and in this home she would willingly welcome all warriors who died in battle for a rightous cause, just as all the brave toms and she-cats who died before her do.'
'The story goes, now, that Amberglow let out a meow so loud that all the cats in the forest could hear it. She flung her head toward the sky and howled and howled and howled. And as she howled, she kept her dark amber eyes facing the night sky. Her sister was still happy, even in death, and that was all that mattered to her."
Skyflower pauses then and turns her unseeing eyes on each of the kits. She looks in Birdflight's direction for a moment and nods - a soft, short now that reflects the mood of the tale she's telling. When she speaks again, her voice matches the look on her face. "By the time that anycat realized she was missing, two nights had passed. They returned to the place that the battle had ended, the place that we have called the Moonpool for many, many moons, and, here, they found not Amberglow but a pool of silver waters and shining stars. The Medicine Cats of each clan decided to visit this pool every half-moon, and the leader of Thunderclan renewed his oath to Starclan; for it was the only honor that they had left to give to their saviors."
The kits all start talking then. Some fling questions, some ask for another story, but Birdflight is no longer paying them attention. His mind had strayed - turning over the story about the Two Sisters, one that he knows very well. About Lightmist, who still remains the youngest she-cat to start, and end, a war and about Amberglow, who never gave up on her. They have been hailed as the bravest warriors that Thunderclan has ever had, both trained for battle from the day they were old enough to leave the nursury. And as he thinks, he tilts his head up to the sky and searches for the swath of stars that he used to gaze at with Honeysplash.
Large, black clouds have blocked them from sight.
It hasn't stormed for so long, the Elders say, since the day that Lightmist left her clan.
It is almost a moon after Birdflight listened to Skyflower tell her story. The clouds have not cleared from the sky, but the rain hasn't fallen yet either. Much of the forest's prey has taken shelter, hiding away in the roots of the trees and hollows in the ground that no cats paws can reach. They sense the impending storm - and everyone knows that it's going to be a large one, maybe even larger than anycat in this generation has seen before.
Because the prey is so sparse, Wolfstar is sending most of the warriors out on hunting patrolls. Feeding the clan, their leader says, is the top priority.
Birdflight, though lacking in the skills it takes to be a grand fighter, is proving himself to be one of the best hunters that Thunderclan has had in moons. Every patrol he is sent on comes back with jaws full of prey - and, because of this, Birdflight is sent out on hunting patrol after hunting patrol, until his paws are sore and he thinks he may drop from exhaustion. But he doesn't, and he doesn't complain, because he wants to provide for his clan. To keep them alive and well; after all, wasn't that what he swore to do when he became a warrior?
On one such hunting patrol, the fourth one that he has been on since the sun rose, Birdflight is paired up with Pigionhop and Honeysplash.
From the very start, the patrol is tense. Honeysplash and Pigionhop stay several tail-lengths ahead of Birdflight, heads together, talking in muted tones. They pay no attention to the prey hiding in the undergrowth, yet their eyes constantly dart from tree to tree. The hair along their spines stands on end. Their ears swivel and every little sound seems to make them jump.
The patrol is not out for long when Birdflight hears it - a long, high-pitched wail. It comes from the direction of their camp and is quickly followed by more. Yowls of cats in pain, of cats that are enraged, or mothers mourning their kits and mates fighting to protect each other. Abandoning the mouse he has been hunting, the dark pelted tabby whirls around and starts running back to the camp. He has only taken a few steps before he realizes that neither of his companions are following him. So he skids to a stop, leaves flying up around him, and swings his head around to look at the two she-cats.
"Pigionhop! Honeysplash! The clan! We have to go!" Birdflight meows, heart freezing in his chest as he looks at them and takes them in.
There is regret in Pigionhop's eyes. There is confidence in Honeysplash.
Neither she-cat accompanies Birdflight back to the Thunderclan camp.
It is chaos when Birdflight arrives back at camp. All he can smell is blood and fear-scent and Shadowclan; and that last scent sends a trill of rage through him. What right does Shadowclan have to attack them, in their own camp? What right does Starclan have to allow this battle to take place when they know that Thunderclan is suffering?
None. There is no right.
But, Birdflight thinks, light green gaze raking over the scene in front of him, when is blood-shed ever right?
That is his last coherant thought before he lets out a loud yowl and throws himself into the battle. The sound is drowned out by a single clap of thunder as the sky opens up and rain begins to pour down.
"Shadowclan! Retreat!" Cloudstar bellows and he wastes no time in turning tail and forcing his way through the bramble walls that surrounds the Thunderclan camp. It only takes a few moments after that for the remaining Shadowclan cats to follow him.
To Birdflight, and many of the other warriors, it is a welcome relief. The battle has been going on for a seemingly impossible amount of time. They are all hurt and tired and cold - impossibly cold and ridiculously wet because it's still raining.
Greycloud, one of the senior warriors of the clan, is the first to take off after the Shadowclan cats. Birdflight is still only for a moment before he too gives chase. Each step sends jolts of pain up through his hindleg from a large scratch and once he gets out into the forest, that legs has a hard time supporting him. Between the slick wetness that covers the fallen leaves on the ground and the dark trail that stains his pelt, it is almost impossible for that paw to get a good grip on anything.
Still, Birdflight does his best to keep with Greycloud. The senior warriors dark grey pelt is hard to see in the falling rain though, and the other tom seems to be filled with an energy that Birdflight lacks.
It is not long before the tom falls behind.
Birdflight blinks heavily as he comes to a stop, breath coming in short pants. The heavy rain fall has plastered his brown fur to his body, revealing the weight that he has lost this past moon and washing away the blood that had been covering him. By now his back leg is throbbing; it will leave a scar, no doubt, where the hair will never grow back. A mark of his first real battle and the first time he proved himself as a warrior.
As he turns to head back to his camp, satisfied that Greycloud will finish chasing the Shadowclan cats away, Birdflight sees it. A flash of almost golden brown in the bushes - and he smells Shadowclan and he smells Honeysplash and he feels nothing but betrayel.
And he knows, in that moment, that Honeysplash is no longer the she-cat that he grew up with - that he used to play hunt with, and stare at the stars with, and share every secret no matter how big. She has changed. And Birdflight doesn't think that it's for the better.