This an entry for The Spirit that Comes at Night's Contest. For those of my lovelies out there reading, don't worry, I'll be back on Caught in Flames soon. It's about time I returned from my month and a half hiatus.
Nightspirit has created a world beyond StarClan called the Unknown where the Messengers reside in a land shrouded in mystery and excellent power. If you wish to know more, go check out her story "The Messenger." It's quite a work of art.
It's good to be back. I don't own Warriors.
"I, Smallstar, leader of WindClan, call upon all my warrior ancestors, to look down on these three apprentices."
Dapplepaw sat still before her leader, ignoring the nervous trembling of her siblings flanking her as they gazed with round eyes at the Tallrock. Smallstar looked down at the three of them, a slight smile touching his lips.
"They have all trained hard to learn the ways of your code, and before you, I make three new warriors for this strengthening Clan."
Mottlepaw's tail twitched, and she kneaded her paws into the ground. Mudpaw's blue eyes darted from cat to cat that watched them as their ceremony progressed. Dapplepaw didn't quite get it. It was their warriors ceremony. It would happen to every cat who lived through leafbare, and the scarcity of prey, and the dog attacks. Sure a couple apprentices had been lost in the course of the season, but they were the younger ones, the weak ones. Dapplepaw and her siblings were not weak.
"Mottlepaw, Dapplepaw, Mudpaw, do you vow to follow the warrior code in protecting your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"
"I do," Dapplepaw replied simply, with a brief flick of her speckled tail.
"I do," Mottlepaw and Mudpaw said shakily. Dapplepaw almost felt embarrassed for them.
"By the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names," The Clan leader said. "Mottlepaw, you shall from now on be known as Mottlefur. StarClan honors your skill in hunting in the fierce cold, and your enthusiasm."
Mottlefur beamed and licked Smallstar's shoulder as he touched his nose to her head. Mudpaw stepped forward.
"Mudpaw, from this day forward, you are to be known as Mudstripe. StarClan honors you for your bravery and content." Mudstripe did as Mottlefur did and licked Smallstar's tabby shoulder.
"Dapplepaw, come forward."
She did as told, padding briskly forward to stand before her leader.
Smallstar smiled at her. "In honor of your great fighting skill and your mature deportment, I name you Dapple-"
"Smallstar!"
The dark gray tabby leader snapped is head in the direction of the camp entrance, the rest of the Clan followed his gaze to wear a scratched up tom was standing. Snow coated his pelt, but the bloody scars were visible underneath it all. Blood dripped onto the snow beneath him.
At first, Smallstar had looked furious that someone had interrupted his ceremony, and Dapplepaw had felt a slight twinge of annoyance as well, but seeing the warrior now, it seems as through Smallstar had forgotten completely about Dapplepaw. "Birchwhisker, what's happened?"
Earlier that day, Smallstar had sent the warrior and the patrol he led out into the territory to mark the RiverClan border, and since then they hadn't returned, but Smallstar promised that Dapplepaw and her siblings that they would have their ceremony at sunhigh, and Smallstar was a tom of his word. He did not disappoint. Now, Birchwhisker had returned, but without the rest of his patrol.
He shook his pelt free of the snow, revealing his golden-brown, blood-stained pelt. "Dog attack...on the way back...Gingerstem...dead...need assistance."
Redwing. Dapplepaw saw the white world around her flicker to a deep blackness, when Birchwhisker stayed behind. An image of a tortoiseshell she-cat, just like her, appeared in her behind, pelt caked with blood, claw marks of a dog running down her flank.
I will not always be here, Dapplepaw, one day you'll need to fend for yourself. You never know when you may find yourself alone.
No. Not after she lost Darkstream.
Dapplepaw leaped off the Tallrock, ignoring the calls from Mottlefur and Mudstripe. Smallstar commanded she return from behind. But she wouldn't.
Her warrior ceremony could wait.
Besides, it wasn't like she followed the warrior code anyway.
The snow was practically burying her. Dapplepaw's quick and desperate run was immediately slowed the moment she pushed past Birchwhisker and outside of camp. She tried bounding, attempting to regain her speed, but she would sink right back into the snow, chilled as it slipped into her fur and made her blood run cold. Almost as much as the fear did.
Birchwhisker suddenly came up from behind her, followed by a second patrol of cats, including Tallblossom, Whiteheart, and Thornpelt. Thornpelt, who had been her mentor, stopped her.
"Dapplepaw, you must go back. Smallstar wants to conclude your ceremony."
She bared her teeth into a snarl. "No. I will not. I can't let Redwing get hurt."
Thornpelt sighed, and told the ret of the patrol to proceed onward. "I know you have been protective of your mother since Darkstream died, but as long as you bare the name of an apprentice, you shall follow the orders of your mentor. Go back to camp and conclude your ceremony. It is not worth it to put such a new warrior in danger."
She hissed at him, back arching and eyes slitting into blue dashes.
Thornpelt drew back, surprised at her challenge. "Dapplepaw, that is no way to respect your mentor. Smallstar is waiting, you must return to camp."
Dapplepaw unsheathed her claws, but didn't expose them from the snow. "No." She took a step forward, but Thornpelt blocked her way.
"Dapplepaw, please go back."
"No," she growled, glaring at him. "I won't, and you cannot control me."
"Go back now," Thornpelt snarled.
"No," she responded and slashed her claws deliberately over his face. A few drops of blood splattered across the snow. Dapplepaw hissed and quickened her pace, racing to get away from him and catch up with the patrol.
She left Thornpelt behind, still in shock even heart beats later.
"He shouldn't be so surprised," she muttered.
For this wasn't the first time she allowed her claws draw blood.
"Mottlepaw, tuck your legs in further. It'll give you better distance," Hawkspeckle called
Dapplepaw, standing across the training hollow, had been in the perfect position since she was told to prepare herself. Sometimes it seemed as though her siblings weren't as competent as her, and because of that they held back, but she kept herself silent about that.
"Great," Thornpelt said, once Mottlepaw had fixed herself. "Next, on our mark, you two are going to attack each other, using the maneuver we have taught you. Remember, keep your claws sheathed." He spoke loud enough for all of the moorland to hear, and yet, Dapplepaw knew that the words were somehow directed at her.
Hawkspeckle sat back. "Ready...attack!"
Mottlepaw launched herself from her crouch, giving herself speed as she rushed towards Dapplepaw. Dapplepaw ran forward too, until she stopped on her hind paws, reared up and slammed her forelegs over Mottlepaw's shoulders all within two heart beats. The brown she-cat was pressed into the dirt beneath them, letting out a cry of surprise.
Dapplepaw held her down for a moment, before letting her up. This time, she allowed Mottlepaw to grab herby the shoulders, but since she was facing away, it was easier to twist and shove back.
"Good, Dapplepaw," Thornpelt called.
Mottlepaw stumbled as Dapplepaw stood, and once again, the two sisters faced each other.
With a low growl, Dapplepaw dropped down, readied her legs, and pushed herself forward. Being the smallest of her littermates, she easily slipped under Mottlepaw, grabbed her tail and pinned her down by the spine. Mottlepaw struggled free and lashed out with one forepaw for the muzzle and the other to the belly. Dapplepaw staggered, but regained her balance just in time to dodge another blow.
Mottlepaw leaped, attacking from only one side and pinning the other. Dapplepaw could hardly move.
"Good, Mottlepaw!" Hawkspeckle said. "That was nice work."
Anger coursed through Dapplepaw, she unsheathed her claws and reached up as Mottlepaw let her weight off, raking harshly down her chest. Mottlepaw yelped in agony as the blood dripped onto the ground.
"Dapplepaw!" Thornpelt explained. "What did I say about claws?"
"Don't you remember?" she replied scornfully, standing.
"That was completely unacceptable. Not only had you broken a rule, but the fight had ended. You should know better," her mentor growled.
"Oh no, if only we could change the past," she hissed sarcastically. "Get a grip. She's just lucky I hadn't killed her."
Dapplepaw had had to clean the elders den for two moons.
Suddenly, a shriek rang out in the day, followed by the loud howl of a dog. Dapplepaw's fur stood on end. She was close. Luckily she would no longer have to use to scent of blood to find her way.
Another yowl sounded, this time, that of a cat. Dapplepaw searched frantically, speeding up her pace, until she reached the pool of scarlet blood that stained the snow.
"They can't be far now."
A snowflake landed delicatley on Dapplepaw's nose as she bounded swiftly through the grass. By that time, it was yellow, dry, and soon to be covered with a thick layer of snow.
This would be Dapplepaw's first leafbare. She had been warned that this was the coldest and roughest seasons for the Clans to endure, and they had been right, for the season had only just begun, and the prey was already disappearing quickly. Thornpelt had cast her out from the patrol when she claimed to have scented a rabbit. Her mentor actually had insisted on going with her, but she convinced him to let her go alone, for the less cats there were, the less of a chance for the prey to notice a disturbance.
The chilled wind was strong, but seemed to carry the cold more than it did the scent of prey. Dapplepaw still held onto the mouth-watering aroma, but now it was difficult to tell which direction it was coming from. For all she knew, she could be standing on the rabbit's tail.
A slight movement was caught out of the corner of her eye. Dapplepaw snapped her head to the side, and through the grass, saw a little pink nose twitch, noticing the snowflakes that dropped down around.
Her belly rumbled with hunger.
She sat completely still, careful not to upset the quiet moorland and scare off the prey. Dapplepaw kept her eyes fixed and unblinking on the rabbit, which stayed where it was, digging into the ground. She unsheathed her claws.
With a yowl, she leaped, slicing her claws wildly through the air. At one point they caught the rabbit's throat, which tore upon with spray of blood and collapsed dead at her paws. Dapplepaw was always taught to be gentle with the prey, for it is giving its life to feed the Clans. She didn't see it that way though. It is going to die anyway; why should it matter how brutally it dies?
She stared longingly at the dead rabbit at her paws. She really was hungry, very hungry, and she could hardly believe, standing in the freezing cold with a scrawny bunny bleeding in front of her, that she would have to wait to long to get her share. The Queens and Elders already had so many apprentices feeding them that Dapplepaw was surprised they weren't buried under the different hares and field mice they brought in. They could spare one mere rabbit for a starving apprentice couldn't they? After all, she was the one who needed the energy. She was the one providing for them.
Dapplepaw didn't think twice. Piece by juicy piece, she ripped apart the prey, devouring every last morsel of it, and burying the bones in the dirt. She went back to her patrol, with a satisfied belly and absolutely no regrets.
Thornpelt asked her if she found anything.
Dapplepaw replied with a shake of her head.
They were in sight now. The patrol Birchwhisker led was closing in on the scene, Dapplepaw trudging close behind them. Cats leaped and struck at a group of three massive dogs, that snapped and barked and snarled at them. Dapplepaw saw Redwing among the group, her shoulder bleeding heavily, but still fighting strong. Brightcloud, though lay motionless, the only sign she was there a few tufts of silver and white flecked fur. The rest was a crimson mess.
Birchwhisker hissed and leaped at the smallest dog, who stood snarling at Harestep, clearly on the brink of collapsing. Gorsefoot raked his claws down the largest dog's flank, while Goldensky snapped viciously at its tail.
Dapplepaw bounded through the snow, desperate to make it to Redwing, who was lashing at the face of the third dog, alone. Finally, she was in reach and sprung out of the snow and collided with the dog. It only stumbled, quickly regaining its balance, and trying to shake her off. She had her claws latched into the back of his scruff. She would not let go.
"Dapplepaw!" Redwing screeched. "What are you doing here?"
She didn't reply, only sank her teeth into the neck of the dog. It hardly made a sound, for its skin was too thick, Dapplepaw withdrew to prepare to send a blow to it's head, but by doing so, it reared up on its hind legs, and Dapplepaw tumbled off its back, and landed in the snow behind it.
The dog turned and lowered its head to her on the ground. A thread of saliva dripped from its chops onto her face. Dapplepaw wished she could vanish.
Redwing came up and lashed out at the dog's face. It drew its attention away from Dapplepaw and snapped at Redwing, narrowly missing her nose. Its cold forepaw stepped on Dapplepaw's ear, its claws tearing off the tip of it as it stepped away, heading directly for Redwing as she taunted it. Blood dripped onto Dapplepaw's face as she stood.
The dog, with its head lowered, began to take repeated bites at Redwing, but succeeded only in swallowing air. The ginger and brown she-cat dodged each snap as she backed away, leading the dog from Dapplepaw. When she was about ten fox-lengths off, she burst under the dog's belly and came out the other side, grabbing its tail with its teeth and clawing at it hind legs. Dapplepaw gasped and ran after them, the blood from her ear leaving a dotted trail behind her.
"Back away," Redwing commanded, as she bit into the dog's leg.
"No," Dapplepaw replied. "I'll make sure you won't get hurt."
Redwing ducked under the paw of the dog. "I don't need you help. Not if it means you getting hurt." She paused with a grunt as she launched herself into the dogs side. It staggered, and Redwing struck it again before it regained its control over balance. Dapplepaw threw her own blow, and then closed her teeth over its neck, trying to make them sink as deep as they could.
The taste of blood overwhelmed her senses, and she released her grip, falling back into the snow, and spitting scarlet saliva. The dog winced, and stood up. Dapplepaw expected it to retreat, but instead, it turned to her and snarled deeply.
Redwing lashed out at the dog in attempt to once again draw it away from Dapplepaw, but it wouldn't move. But after several strikes, the dog lunged, its massive jaw set closing around her face.
Redwing collapsed.
Alive.
Dead.
Within a heartbeat.
The dog dropped her into the snow. Dapplepaw watched in horror as her body sunk deeper and deeper, the stain of scarlet crawling further away in all directions. Her nose was hanging off of her muzzle, her lower jaws was crooked, and her eyes were not visible behind the shield of crimson gore, but Dapplepaw was convinced with a sick twist to her belly that there was nothing to see.
The dog wasted no time, it snapped its poewrful teeth into Dapplepaw's shoulder. There was only a twinge of agony, but she knew she should have felt something more, and she would have if not for the tight knot of horror and grief in her chest. Dapplepaw cried out. The dog dug its teeth deeper into her body, but she made no effort to fight it. She felt a jolt, followed by a dull pain as the bone of her foreleg snapped.
She began to feel her life pour out of her when the dog reached her throat.
But she felt nothing from its slaughter. The edges of the world flickered light to dark, white to black. The image of the dog's face smothered with her blood and the blood of her mother seemed to grow unclear. The white moorland around her flashed for a moment, then slowly faded to black.
The last thing she saw was Thornpelt, just now joinging the fight.
It all came rushing back to her.
The images, the memories, her life, her short life, flashing before her eyes.
But most of the memories weren't clear. They were blurred. The echoing sounds of it, nothing but mere beats in her ear. Voices were muffled, faces obscured, the atmosphere, a blurb of light and colors.
However, there were a few instances when it was clear, when it felt like she was reliving them. They were the moments of her challenge. The time when she unsheathed her claws to train, when she ate before the Queens and Elders. They were the times she would not allow the warrior code to shape who she was as a warrior.
The last one was a memory from the previous half moon.
Dapplepaw kept herself low in the grass. Low and silent. The strong wind today cut out the sound of her movement, as she pulled herself forward, slowly.
A pale tabby stood stiffly in the distance. His tail was out, frozen, his ears pricked. Dapplepaw knew why. The aroma of prey was heavy in the air. Perfect to mask her own scent.
She continued to stalk towards him, moving only when the wind urged the grasses. The crisp edges of each blade grazed her fur, making her feel on edge. There was a cold feeling in the air, a dark essence among them in the dead of the leafbare night, but Dapplepaw felt hot inside. Fiery rage pulsed through every time her racing heart beat, and it was beating quick.
It was the night after his vigil, the tom standing several fox-lengths ahead of her had earned his warrior name just the night before, and after a long, cold night of silence, he still decided he wanted to go out to hunt that very evening. Dapplepaw almost thanked StarClan for the timing.
Almost, for this wasn't a miracle.
The pale tabby turned his head to the side, as a fresh wave of a rabbit scent was carried in by the cool wind. He crouched, the only thing suddenly visible, his ears. Dapplepaw stopped for a moment. They were both going to be careful then, weren't they?
She could now see him through the thick tall grasses as he moved towards his prey. Amber eyes gleamed delightfully in the dark, obliviously. He had no idea what was about to happen.
Seeing the light of his gaze caused the memories to come rushing back to her, filling her to brim with more and more hatred. They were memories of Darkstream sitting up in his nest late at night, coughing and writhing at the inability to breathe. She saw in brief flashes, images of him as he grew thinner and thinner, as his fur clumped and knotted, as his blue eyes, just like hers lost their lively shine. And it all began with the echoes in her head of his voice.
"Dapplepaw, I'm sorry," he apologized, with a voice raspy and ill-sounding, but not nearly as ill as her father became.
Apologized he should have, however, for Adderfrost, crouched before her was the reason her father was dead.
You had to pass it on to him. Of all cats, one of the very few that I loved. So few...
Dapplepaw could not hold in her fury any longer. Her claws pierced the grass, just for a split moment before she leaped into the air, and dove for his throat.
I will make sure you are not the cause of any more that I love.
And it was true, for if any cat dare cross her, they'd die at her claws.
A white-hot light flashed before Dapplepaw's eyes. She blinked several times and allowed her vision to clear
She stood in an expanse of darkness. Her paws touched nothing, and she couldn't breathe, for there was no air around her, but she did not feel scared, in fact she felt nothing at all. Her mind was clouded of anything she had experienced before. She did not fish for her memories, she did not move. She merely just stared ahead. For before her, a silver patch of light approached. Small particles of dust floated among it, and sparks leaped from its illumination.
Suddenly in a blinding field of light, the silver aura morphed, sparking and flashing, heat emitting from it, sounds of thunder deafening Dapplepaw, but she did not move, she could not move, and she did not care.
The thunder stopped altogether, and the lights faded to a dull silver aura, except this time, it surrounded a gray tabby tom, with green eyes.
He swept her into nothingness.