Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors, savvy?
This is for the LawlClan's Secret Santa Exchange. I was given DefyTheImpossible's prompts of 'hope' and 'the first snow of leafbare'. Sorry for the wait, but here it is. Happy holidays to all of my friends on Fanfiction!
"Look, Birdpaw, it's snowing!" Spottedpaw looked over her shoulder at her friend, pale green eyes gleaming with delight. "Don't you think it's pretty? I do. It's almost like the sky is falling down around us."
You were right, Spottedpaw. The dark brown she-cat gazed out over the moors covered in fine white powder just like that morning all those seasons before. It was so beautiful, just like us. Beautiful and new and innocent. But as she watched the snow fall from the slate-gray sky, all she could see was the death and heartache it would bring to the starving denizens of the Clans' territories. It was cold and unforgiving and, yes, beautiful too, but it was most importantly ruthless.
She snapped out of her reverie and turned to look at the tom still half-asleep in his nest. "I'm going out today. If I'm not back by moonrise, I want you to move north as fast as you can, okay?" Her yellow eyes narrowed pleadingly. She needed him to agree with her just this once.
"Okay, Flight. Whatever you say." The pale tabby nodded. "Just be careful, whatever you do." Her heart softened in that instant. Despite all his jibes and teasing remarks, Talon had never questioned her orders. She nodded swiftly before padding out of the old badger set and into the fresh snow.
Flight was silent as she ghosted over the rolling hills, the crunching of snow beneath her paws the only noise. The memories of the once-familiar territories all came rushing back to her as if she had never left them in the first place. Following the hidden paths from memory, she paused in the shadow of one of WindClan's few trees, an ancient hickory that hadn't leaned quite so heavily to the left the last time she had seen it. Her pelt blending in seamlessly with the darkness, she crouched and waited.
The camp was full of activity as the two apprentices grudgingly left the den. Birdpaw shivered as the first icy gust of wind nearly swept her off her paws, speckling her dark fur with pristine white flecks.
The medicine cat laughed at the sight. "Cold, Birdpaw? It would be nice to have a thick pelt like a RiverClanner now, wouldn't it?" His eyes glimmered with warmth. "I think my brother might be looking for you, so you might want to run along. Cloudstrike hates to wait."
Jolted out of her silent amazement, the brown she-cat nodded. "Cloudstrike wants me?" she repeated. "Okay, thank you!" She raced into the center of WindClan's camp, kicking up tiny flurries as she ran. "Cloudstrike? Cloudstrike?" She glanced around, searching for the familiar white pelt in the crowd.
"Over here, Birdpaw!" a deep, raspy voice called from the other side of the clearing. She padded over to find the senior warrior sitting in a small snow drift on the edge of camp. It was hard to tell where the snow ended and his shaggy pelt began. "A good apprentice should never keep her mentor waiting," he reminded her gently, "especially not when she has early morning training."
"I'm sorry, Cloudstrike!" she gasped breathlessly. "This is all my fault. I got distracted by the snow, and I completely forgot. I promise that I'll do better next time, really!"
Her apologetic babble was interrupted by the white tom's amused purring. "It's fine, Birdpaw. Just be a little quicker about it next time, okay? I can give you a free pass today, what with the special circumstances." His green eyes glittered, and he gestured to the open moors with his tail. "Come on; the prey will be moving quickly in this kind of weather."
She dutifully followed him out of camp, careful not to make noise. She finally sped up a bit to walk side by side with the tom. She glanced over at him curiously, noting how different they were in appearance. Unlike most of WindClan's warrior, Cloudstrike was stocky with long, thick fur. She had heard some of the queens gossiping about him having mixed blood, but Birdpaw didn't believe that. How could a loyal warrior be anything but pure WindClan? "Cloudstrike, where are we going?" she asked.
He purred deep in his chest, whiskers twitching in an effort to keep the snow off his muzzle. "I'm going to show you a new place today, Birdpaw. It's one of the best for rabbits." His eyes glimmered with satisfaction, and Birdpaw was glad to see that her mentor was in a good mood to match her own.
She followed him out, farther out than she had ever been on her own. Trees dotted the landscape, lone shadowy monoliths in a world of white. The she-cat let out a surprised yowl as she tripped over a root hidden deep in the snow, sending her flying into the ground face-first. The powdery snow cushioned her fall, but it left her muzzle sore nonetheless. When she finally righted herself, eartips burning in embarrassment, her mentor was gone.
"Cloudstrike?" she called out quietly, voice nearly lost in the howl of the wind. "Cloudstrike, where are you?" The wind roaring in her ears, she took several steps forward. "Cloudstri—?" The apprentice let out a muffled screech as she was tackled from behind, pinned to the icy ground.
"Hold still," the raspy voice breathed in her ear. "Hold still and be a good apprentice. Struggling will only make it worse for you."
"Cloudstrike, what are you doing?" she asked, panic seeping into her voice. She was cold, so cold. His whiskers were brushing the inside of her ear, and his weight was almost crushing her. "Cloudstrike, please!"
There was a snarl, and her face was pushed into the snow. "Be quiet and hold still," he ordered in a harsh whisper. "You want to be a good apprentice, don't you?" And then there was pain, pain, pain, and all Birdpaw could see was white, white, white.
That was the day Birdpaw had left the Clan and died somewhere in that desolate frigid wasteland, leaving a warier, wiser creature in her skin. Flight. Flighty little Flight, who would quicker rip a tom's ears off than blink. That had been one of Talon's favorite japes about her, and it had earned him that hole in his left ear.
The dark brown she-cat didn't have to wait long before he appeared, a tiny ginger cat following behind him. Yes, his eyes were older, and that unusual shaggy fur was streaked with gray, but it was him. "Yes, Flamepaw, I'm going to show you a new place to hunt today. It's the best for catching rabbits." There was his voice, raspy and warm, speaking words that had been branded into her memory.
She lunged when they grew close, tackling the aging warrior to the ground. When the ginger she-cat let out a screech of terror, she glared at it with cold yellow eyes. "Run back to camp as fast as you can," she ordered, voice desperate. "Go now before I kill you too." The apprentice hesitated for a moment before turning tail and racing back towards camp.
She stared down at the tom who had ruined her life, eyes as cold and merciless as his had been that day. "Tell anyone what happened, and I'll make you wish you were dead," he had crooned silkily in her ear. "Do you remember me?" she asked, and she almost didn't recognize her voice.
The white tom stared up at her with wide, terrified eyes. "What? No, should I? Who are you, and what do you want? I'm an important member of the Clan, and you'll suffer for this!" His eyes had filled with bravado that did nothing to hide his fear.
"Of course you don't," she murmured. "It has been countless seasons, after all. Let me give you a hint. I never saw you again after what you did to me. You left me there in the snow. I buried two kits two moons later, kits that never had a chance at life. Kits that I never even wanted. You killed me that day, Cloudstrike. You killed my innocence and my happiness and my hope. But what is dead can never die again, so I've got nothing left to lose." She slashed a claw across his muzzle, and his responding scream was music to her ears.
"Do you remember me?" she repeated, eyes blank and cold as the darkest leafbare night. "Do you remember me?"
He stared up at her, fear clear as day on his muzzle as his eyes widened in recognition. "Birdpaw," he whispered.
"Birdpaw," she agreed grimly, and her raised paw struck.
The she-cat who was once Birdpaw sat beside the corpse for several long moments before standing and padding away, paying no attention to her gore-spattered chest and paws. Scarlet stained the beautiful white snow, but she hardly even noticed. That was the past, and now what was left of Birdpaw could finally rest in peace. She was Flight now, and she had a chance. A chance to go back to Talon and leave these starforsaken lands forever. A chance to love and laugh and live again. A change to breathe. A chance to hope.
Flight kept walking and turned her eyes to the snow, imagining that the sky was falling down around her.