1. Injured
Orange and brown leaves littered the bogs of the marsh territory. One fallen leaf after another dappled the earthy ground with its gentle touch. The night's deep purple bordered with the sun's setting red and pale golden skies. The trees' thick canopy suddenly thinned as the cracks of light broke toward the forest floor. Speckles of white frost glistened like tiny stars as they covered every nook and cranny of the land.
"Ryepaw…Ryepaw. For StarClan's sake, will you wake up." The snarls slowly became apparent to the half-sleeping apprentice.
Abruptly she shot her head up, eyes bleary with sleep and fur ruffled. Crouching before her was her mentor, Darkfang. He was notorious in his teachings and would push his apprentices until he was satisfied with their work. This was no exception for the black she-cat.
He glared at her, eyes narrowing. "Well? Are you going to lie there like a moon-blinked owlet or are you going to get up and ready yourself for the raid?"
Blinking the drowsiness away from her eyes she stretched in her nest. Claws sliding out of their cover and back arching luxuriously. Before she knew it one of her back claws snagged some fur. There was a soft, recognizable grumble and moss shifting from behind.
"Oh."Ryepaw flattened her ears against her neck. "Sorry, Mudpaw." Suddenly, she remembered he had taken a nest behind her.
A young golden-brown tom stared at his den mate.
"It's all right," he purred, an amused glint in his pale golden eyes. "I would be more worried with the cat in front of you than one from the back."
Darkfang's hot breath coursing through on his apprentice's neck fur making her shiver. His eyes bore down with deliberate malice. She felt a delicate tremor of fear trail down her limbs.
A growl erupted from his throat. "I don't have all morning for you and your friend to gaggle like a pair of geese. Get a move on now or I'll make you." He withdrew from the den, his paw steps receding.
The black furred apprentice stifled another yawn. She was extremely tired from yesterday's trips in and out of camp. Patrolling for this mornings raid was draining on a young cat like herself. It was all they could do to keep well fed in leaf-bare. It was all she could do.
Now there were rumors going around about a deadly 'NightStriker.' A cat terrorizing wayward cats who strayed too far from camp, alone, and prey to whatever lurked in the swamp. She shivered at the thoughts flooding back in her skull threatening to overwhelm her just before the call of battle. She shook herself.
It was because of him - or it - that any cat was forbade from camp at the wee hours of dusk. Already they had lost three cats. One of those three was her little brother, Boulderkit. He was so young, far too young to be claimed by the messenger of death. The night was their enemy as well as the other Clans. She swore to avenge her fallen brother in hopes to ease the weariness that led the MarshClan into so many mournful burials.
She could recall the last session, sunrises before, with their deputy Crowflight. Doubling the guards not caring if the Clan had a fitful sleep or not. He was strict and angered by so many, valuable losses.
I can understand his protectiveness. He's afraid. Afraid of losing more cats that we need to survive. To keep ShellClan and BirchClan from weaving in and out our borders, killing our prey and studding us weak with sickness and hunger, and unable to defend.
Hunting for prey and the threat of war was enough as it is. I don't need some death bringer to worry about too.
Deciding to going outside before the tom came back to drag her out, she crawled from the apprentice den. She went to her usually grooming spot. Aspenpaw, her best friend and sister, who was licking her paw and drawing it over her ear. She was always an early bird. Priming herself to perfection before she was called for a patrol. She was the more prepared sister, the one everyone admired for her readiness and unwillingness to back down from anything. Ryepaw's pelt prickled with envy.
"Evening,"Ryepaw huffed sitting on her haunches as twisted around to lap at the scraps of moss from her back.
Aspenpaw looked up to see her sister, cleaning herself, as she was moments before. Her pretty blue eyes sparkled as she spotted her lesser sister by her as if she was receiving an honorary for her presence.
"Let me guess, your mentor was your wakeup call again?" She meowed.
Ryepaw shrugged, "The usual."
Her friend snorted then rose to her long legs shaking each forepaw in turn. "I was just coming to wake you, but I imagined you'd prefer to still be curled up in your warm nest - fast asleep - and dreaming your worries away."She sighed, eyes flitting over to Foxclaw.
The tom was briskly chatting with Daisytail one of the few remaining queens. Aspenpaw gave another soft sigh. She was mouthing something along the lines of 'handsome' and 'strong.'
Placing her single, white paw down Ryepaw rolled her eyes," Oh, I'm sure you we're having better things to do than go rouse up lazy me."
Aspenpaw ear swiveled back to the black she-cat. Her own dark tail making a drift in the frosted ground. "You say something?" Eyes hungrily stared the ginger tabby up and down as if her blue gaze could swallow him whole.
Ryepaw snapped her head back in a sharp turn. "Nothing." She hissed. A forlorn look plastered on her face. You would hardly notice anything I have to say, Ms. Perfectpaws!
Mudpaw poked his head out of the den's entrance; emerging his whole body from within the hole and toward outside.
"Brrr…" He gasped, picking his way among the snow covered camp. "It's cold," fur bushing out to keep the chilling winds at bay.
Ryepaw rolled her eyes again while Aspenpaw purred.
"What did you aspect? That leafbare was going to be as warm and sunny as greenleaf?"
Mudpaw eyes fell on Aspenpaw. "N-no, I didn't think it would be this cold!" He hissed through clenched teeth.
"I'm practically freezing my fur off!"
Ryepaw sighed, a small plume of her breath formed in a transparent cloud. "Well, the run over the the river will warm you up."
His muscles recoiled. "Er, on second thought, the cold doesn't seem all that bad." His whiskers quivered making both she-cats giggle.
Aspenpaw pricked her black ear tips, slightly turning her head to the pile of half frozen prey. Her belly growled as her twinkling blue eyes stared with interest. "Well, we can't go into enemy's territory with empty stomachs, let's go grab something to eat!"
Ryepaw looked about ready to jump forward and tussle for the last bits of prey when Foxclaw trotted over. "That won't be necessary. Lightstar is about ready to lead the hunting raid. With more hungry cats we have a better chance in catching prey," he tipped his head to Aspenpaw.
"Would you not agree, Aspenpaw?" His voice was soft as the sun's warmth. The black and white apprentice gave an awkward dip of her head. Her eyes darted to Ryepaw who's whiskers were twitching, amused.
Foxclaw smiled a small smile. "I'm glad you see it that way." He looked over his shoulder hearing the call of the leader and a small band of cats following her and her deputy.
"Well, that's our call, shall we go?"
Both she-cats rose up and padded after the ginger tom. Mudpaw streaked ahead of them feeling the wind on his fur. When they neared the edge of their territory they slowed. There stood The River. It's swollen banks seem ready to burst and flood both sides of the territories. One-by-one, the MarshClan cats jumped over the spilling bank. As it neared her turn, Ryepaw imagined herself within the river, feeling the push and pull of the unforgiven waters until she sunk to the icy, dark depths. Never to see the light of day again. She wasn't given a moment to shudder as a tabby warrior shoulder past her. She growled. Fleeting over the rocks with less grace than the cat before her.
. . .
"Mudpaw, will you stop fidgeting!" Aspenpaw whispered. The moon shone faintly on her black-and-white pelt, turning it silver.
The clouds obscured the starry skies as the MarshClan patrol crept away from the massive river. Leaving a trail of damp paws in their path.
Despite Aspenpaw's warning, Mudpaw's whole body continued to quiver with anticipation, his thin tail swishing up dead leaves from below. A gray paw squashed it in place, making Mudpaw squeak in surprise. Twisting his head back he saw Crowflight, the Clan deputy. His huge, orange eyes burned like wildfire. Mudpaw shrunk down, crouching into the hard frosted ground that was cold to the touch.
"Now, I'm telling you to stop. We're in enemy's territory and your constant antiques will give us away!" He growled. Crowflight, known for his short-fused tempers. Quarreling with the golden-brown tabby made it know better if not worse.
He lowered his belly fur toward the earth as Mudpaw did. The golden she-cat was ahead of them, her thick, feathery tail held high. It was a signal to stop.
Ryepaw stalked next to Mudpaw, her eyes following her leader as her ears swiveled from the left then the right.
She took a deep breath, then exhaled as Lightstar sat up. Crowflight was at her side murmuring to dark gray tom. He nodded his head then flicked his tail numerous times to the right. Cats brushed past her, eyes bright with excitement and pelts bristling. Shaking her head clear, Ryepaw pelted after them.
The thick undergrowth felt foreign underpaw. Ryepaw made a soft hiss as a thorn scratched her pad. She raised it as a dribble of blood welled up at the tip. Her tongue rasped over it but the crimson liquid still formed over the open cut. She placed it down again, wincing as the cut throbbed with each step she took.
Her eyes scanned the small area she was pint up with. A small torte was in the midst, claws flashing out as she caught a tail of what looked like a tiny shrew. She held it triumphantly in her jaws. Her prey was left on the ground, dirt and snow scraped over it before she slipped into the thicket of a bramble bush.
Ryepaw sighed wanting to hunt down her own meager gifts from the forest. She opened her mouth to catch the scent of anything available.
Mouse. She flickered her tongue over her muzzle. The scent was uncommon but precious to her all the same. She went into a hunter's crouch slithering like a snake on its belly and parting her jaw again to keep the scent of prey in check. She was close. She could almost feel the body vibrating under the mound of snow, scurrying for any remains of tree seedlings.
Her breathing slowed caught up in the moment of hunting. She was in the 'zone', careful to place each paw step after another until she was only a fox-length away. Her dark pelt helping her caste a shadow in the night.
Then, she pounced. It was an astounding leap for one so small. Her paws outstretched and eyes keen on her target. Just when she had lined herself up with the mouse, seizing the opportunity to strike a pelt streaked forward. The mouse darted away to the safety of the tree roots.
Ryepaw made a final attempt to catch it only for her paw to slam into the gnarled roots. She yelped. Her limb jerking back to free her trapped foreleg.
There was shriek. It was soft, almost inaudible. The she-cat ears perked over the ravin. She swallowed, hard. Unbeknownst, her paw slipped free from its splintered clutches. It was that same paw with the cut, leaving her to favor her right side. She hobbled on all her paws, creeping forward and keeping quiet as best she could.
What she saw next, was the shock of her short life; there he was - or rather - there it was. The NightStriker, claiming another victim. Its claws slashing down the side of the body as if moving it with animated paws. The crimson liquid freely flowed down its chest and muzzle without a care. Ryepaw could feel her stomach give a heave. She retched, turning her head to banish the bad dream away. To postpone whatever fate held for that poor cat.
That same tortoiseshell. The she-cat she saw before. Her name was so forgettable. Her life flew by her even by the time Ryepaw was apprenticed. It was so dull and boring(or so she thought). Nothing stood out not even her bland name, Leafpelt.
A life is a life. It is precious all the same. Ryepaw blinked up only to gag again when she saw the killer pull out the steamy end-trails of his victim. Her heart interested him the most. It fluttered like a caged bird. It still fought to keep the tortured, dying she-cat alive. Well, the killer wasn't going to have any of that. With his claws he pierced the heart like a dagger, slicing across exposed skin. Blood seemed to burst from the contents of its imprisoned shell. The shredded heart pulsated, shuttered then convulsed into a flat surface of flesh and blood.
She was dead. She knew she was dead. The killer knows, that's why he withdrew studying the creature that was once alive and free. Ryepaw felt a rush of panic rise within her. I...I've got to tell someone... She backed away only to realize her mistake as the snow gave way from behind her. She screeched trying to claws back up but her paw stung and preventing her from catching a firm grip. Down the black apprentice went; head over paws, down into the tree roots and ravin she once climbed. Her world went spinning. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. And yet, her paw hurt more than it did before. Ryepaw looked at it, eying the scar and then length that it sported. She moved her paw away to see...
A pair of green eyes that flashed in the darkness. A growl vibrated from its chest. Claws glinted in the waning moonlight. There it stood. No She gawked at the NightStriker, disbelief riddled her face, shock and surprise contrasting with one another. Not it, but he.
He descended claws flicking drops of blood in the snow. It was so strange to see it that way. So tainted and impure. He was confident. He had finesse and everything that the she-cat could not uphold too. She was ordinary just like Leafpelt. Just like Leafpelt, she will be silenced.
Ryepaw slowly opened her mouth ready to cry for help. He saw her attempt and lunged. He crush her under his weight. His power and skill was far greater than hers by many leagues. She had no chance with escape, not with her life.
"What do we have here?" Paw pressed against her throat, keeping her voice to barely a whisper.
She gave a feeble attempt to struggle but to no avail did she succeed. She was weak from hunger, weak from fighting. Weakened, by her own transgressions.
"A little apprentice who's strayed too far from her group?" He gave a crooked grin. There was no amusement to his features.
"Why?" She managed to croak, feeling her own life being dangled by a thread of fate. One claw could slice her life away. It would be over before she could rasp her final word.
"Why, you ask?" This bemused him. "It's only a matter of time before MarshClan is finished for good." His eyes slid down to her neck where his paw was settled in. "It makes it no difference if I am the one who speeds up the process."
Ryepaw gasped as the pressure on his hold increased. In the far reaches of her mind she could feel darkness settle into her vision. Her body felt numb and her small struggles were easing as if she was drifting from this nightmare...
"Oh, no. You aren't going to go out like that, sweet thing." Bloody claws struck her throat making her shoot up from her reverie. Her paws flailed once more and as he added his other paw she knew the end was drawing near.
Stop messing around and do it already! She wanted to scream at him. Anything to keep away from his pleasures tortures.
"I'm not going to kill you." He said as if reading her thoughts. "I think it would be better to at least let you live to see another day, but every bargain comes with a price."
Ryepaw opened her mouth only for blood to bubble through her teeth and over her tongue. She felt her body jerk and go rigged with fear. His paws crawled over her throat, spilling blood and ruining her chances to ever talk again. His face was passive, devoid of emotion and lack there of. Her eyes stretched wider than she thought possible. Her mind opening and closing wondering when the sweet silence of death would come.
All she could see was the color red. It was bright on her fur and his but never, truly stained it. She fell back when he withdrew. Her body still jerking as if reliving the nightmares of her life. His green eyes flashed over her again, bending forward to burn the memory of his face into her mind.
"What a shame." Her ear weakly twitched at the sound of his voice again. "You seem to have hurt your paw as well." She rasped, not giving a coherent sound.
"Don't worry, they will be here soon to pick up the pieces of where I left." He glanced over his shoulder down as if seeing someone that Ryepaw could not detect with sight or smell.
"Your pain will ease but your mind won't. I intended to scar one cat out of the whole lot I slaughtered." He gave a twitch of his whiskers.
"You just so happened to be one of the I left behind." A sadistic smile curled over his blood stained muzzle as he shadow engulfed the quivering lump of fur beneath him.
A/N: So this is a couple of generations ahead of the current MarshClan. If anyone from the forum was ever puzzled by the different names. Also, Daisykit made in appearance so it shouldn't be too far from where we've begun. Second note, I noticed that I placed Daisytail in the wrong Clan but when BirchClan and FrozenClan vamoosed after the run in with (hello here) some cats might have switched loyalties in the need to keep alive. Glad that cleared up a few things.