I was going to do Stormfur for this one, but then I realised how overlooked Stonefur had always been. Set when TigerClan was in the forest, and the half-clan cats were being held prisoner.
Disclaimer; I only own the linking of the beginning and end of this drabble.
The trickling of the river nearby the cramped den was one of the last links to the outside world they had. It reminded the large grey tom of his kit days, as he splashed in the shallow waves. Graypool used to bring him and his sister to the river in greenleaf, sitting in the shade while the two kits entertained themselves.
The river might be tame here, but further down it began to descend into a roaring gorge. It was the gorge that haunted his dreams every night, and it was the gorge that made him shiver every time he walked by it.
Stonefur hadn't known his true mother very well; other than being the previous leader of ThunderClan, the moons of being separated from her had shown him nothing. Firestar had told him that she had been every ounce of the proud and fierce silvery she-cat he imagined her to be, and that she had always loved him.
But Bluestar was dead, now only a memory of a limp silver shape on the shore of the gorge. He could see her dying expression right here, in front of his tired eyes. She had died happily by the side of her kits, and Stonefur had to blink away the tears he felt beginning to prick at his eyes.
He looked around at the huddled, scrawny shapes beside him. Their bones stuck out from under their pelts, and although they were all pressed against each other, it was still cold in the den.
Mistyfoot was curled up next to him, tail over her nose and eyes gleaming in the faint light as she watched him. She blinked sympathetically at him, knowing what they had both been thinking about. Next to her lay their apprentices, sound asleep. The separation from the rest of the Clan had been hardest on them both – this had been the second time to have been rejected by their own kin.
Stonefur had never been able to understand how Silverstream had fallen in love with that ThunderClan cat, let alone how Graystripe had given up everything just to be with them. But looking over the two half-starved apprentices, he felt a pang of sadness towards them. They would never grow up like the other apprentices – they would always be singled out for their differences. If they even lived that long.
Stonefur shook the thought out of his head. These cats were all he had left, and he would make sure that they got through this. Without them, he would be nothing.
His sister had also fallen asleep now, her breathing calm and soothing. It was strange, how he felt the need to protect these Half-Clan cats. Tigerstar had told RiverClan that they would only ever be half the warrior of any other, but Stonefur knew better. The fact that they had survived this long proved the ambitious tabby tom was wrong; they were twice the warrior of any cat.
Contented, Stonefur closed his eyes, and listened to the noises of dusk outside. The wind began to rustle the reeds by the bank, singing their whispered song in unison. Light faded as the sun set, casting the comforting shadows of the night over his pelt.
And the river trickled by the whole night, on and on.
R&R? Suggestions for the next one?
So, a bit of a long drabble, but what the hey :D