Loners - Part 1: Chapter 1

Chapter I - Stripeclaw

Kits, Mentors, and Badgers

"Stripeclaw! Heads up!" a small, playful voice piped.

I looked around started as dead mouse flew into my paws. I saw that there were claw marks cutting through the prey so it couldn't be eaten. I looked up and saw Faithfulheart's kits bounding toward me. Both kits were growing and healthy but they were still fairly young.

"Can you give the mouse to us?" Streamkit asked. Her bright blue eyes were glinting with happiness. Her silver tabby pelt shimmered in the sunlight as my own was shaded under a rock ledge near the nursery. "We're gonna hide it in Barbedclaw's nest!"

As Streamkit came forward to take it, I swatted the mouse into my chest. "You will do no such thing. Barbedclaw is a noble warrior that protected this Clan. If it weren't for him, you might not exist. SkyClan might not exist!" I exaggerated. The kits had no respect for their elders. Faithfulheart couldn't tell them because of her medical issue and Gethin could honestly care less about the elders.

"Stripeclaw, can you tell us a story?" her brother Wolfkit piped up. His long gray fur was shaggy like a dogs and he had vibrant green eyes like his father's.

I let out a sigh. "Okay but it has to be a short one. I have to go out on a patrol at sunhigh."

Streamkit and Wolfkit scrambled in the space between my chest where the mouse was and my forepaws. I sighed as I gazed down on them—their eyes bright and vigilant, their fur shining with youth. I know it was stupid to count myself out of the youth category. I'd only been a warrior for three moons. New-leaf had come and gone and green-leaf is just beginning. I had a feeling that just before leaf-fall, those two would be made apprentices.

"What do you want to hear?" I asked stifling a yawn.

As the yawn found its way out, I heard a jumble of answers. I shook my head as I finished yawning. "One at a time," I insisted. "I only have two ears."

"One for each of us!" Streamkit giggled.

I rolled my eyes. Streamkit climbed onto my back and flopped down. The tiny kit was nearly buried in my fluffy fur. She somehow climbed her way onto my head so she was between my ears. "I want to hear about Tigerstorm!" she nearly yowled.

All eyes landed on the three of us. Froststar and Toby, my mother and father, who sat near Rockpile looked toward me. My father narrowed his eyes while my mother remained impassive. I felt my pelt grow hot. "Streamkit, keep your voice down," I scolded. I hated unnessicary attention. That was probably my biggest dislike.

Streamkit pouted on my head. "But I want to learn about him! I hear the queens talk about him sometimes. Who is he?" she asked. She tumbled off my head and down into the dirt after misplacing her paws when she had attempted to step on my muzzle.

After nudging her to her paws, I made both of the raucous kits sit. "Now, both of you—listen to me. Tigerstorm was not a good cat. He nearly destroyed SkyClan and we don't like to talk about it. It was little more than just seasons ago. I was an apprentice when it all happened. You kits don't need to worry about that. He's dead now and won't bother us anymore."

Wolfkit nodded but Streamkit continued to look curious. "How'd he try to kill us?" she asked, her blue eyes shining with curiosity.

I let out a sigh. I knew she wouldn't give up. She wanted to know and I guess she did have a right. After Tigerstorm had been killed my mother said that what was done was done. There was nothing left to be done. He was dead and nothing else had to be said about the matter. I knew that Tigerstorm had killed her original mate as well as her first son.

The idea of my mother having another son always made me jealous. I know it's pointless, but I couldn't help but wonder if she wished that he was alive instead of me. I wasn't well-liked in our Clan. Neither was my sister, Snowfire. It wasn't until I was older that I learned why. They didn't think I was good enough to be in the Clan. Some cats were fine with it when my father and the rest of our band joined SkyClan since my mother saved them all. Then again, some were still prejudice to us. Because we didn't have 'warrior blood' we weren't worthy to live in this Clan.

My mother said to ignore them. More than half of the Clan didn't have warrior blood and not just the cats that had been former loners and rogues. Midnightclaw had been a former daylight-warrior and she judged me! As I got older, I saw things differently. They were all hypocrites.

Isn't there anyone else you could annoy? Family? Friends? Poisonous reptiles? I thought to myself. Not that I wanted the kits to get killed, but if I could just catch a quick nap before my patrol…

"Stripeclaw!"

I looked up as a reflex reaction to my name. It certainly wasn't a kit's voice that called me. I searched the gorge to find my caller. "Stripeclaw!" they called again. I finally saw my mother sitting near Rockpile, her eyes fixed squarely on me. She flicked her tail toward herself, indicating for me to come over.

Sighing, I rose to my paws. "Where're you going Stripeclaw?" Streamkit asked.

"To talk to Froststar," I meowed and padded off to meet my mother.

Froststar sat next to Rockpile, her ears angled toward Jaggedrock as he gave her the daily report for the patrols.

When the senior warrior had finished, I began. "You wanted to see me?" I reminded her carefully.

Froststar nodded. "I heard about the kits asking you about Tigerstorm," she meowed, eyeing me with her famous glare

Mouse-dung.

"I didn't tell them anything," I promised, wondering what my face looked like to her. I tried to remain calm and keep a poker face, but on the inside, my heart was hammering. I had already gotten into enough trouble in the last week. First, I challenged Darkpaw to who could jump the farthest and she fell and sprained her paw. Second, since the apprentices' assessments were going on, it was the new warriors' jobs to change the elders' bedding and I forgot. Now this.

Froststar stared at me for a minute then dipped her head. "Very well. Just watch yourself. You know how the other warriors are. By the way, I think Gethin was looking for you. He was headed out of camp toward Skyrock last I heard."

Great. "Okay I'll go check it out," I said thoughtfully.

Oh how I loved my talks with Gethin. Each one had a 'moral.' He kept saying that it was so I didn't make the same mistakes he did. Of course he never mentioned those mistakes which always irked me. I only knew him as the cat that killed the alpha wolf in the pack that tried to kill us. He was good friends with my mother, which I knew my father despised secretly. He and Darrin too had their suspicions about Froststar and Gethin. I knew nothing would ever 'go on' between them, but they were extremely paranoid. Darrin wasn't even with her.

I padded up the path that led up and out of the gorge and over toward Skyrock. This had turned into our 'meeting spot' since Gethin liked this spot the best because of the scenic view of the camp and the river.

It wasn't long before I reached the oldish bronze tomcat. He sat his back to the forest, his head angled up at the sun that had just reached its highest point. So much for my patrol, I thought irritably. Does he have no respect for duties?

Dismally, I stalked up to him and plopped down carelessly beside him. His eyes were closed. As I plopped down, I saw his ear twitch—with what? Irritation? I smirked secretly. I was glad I annoyed the old badger-brain.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked with false respect.

Gethin dipped his head and opened his emerald green eyes that seemed to stun every she-cat in the Clan. I resisted the urge to gag. He turned his head toward me. "Stripeclaw, do you want to be a warrior?" he inquired gently.

The question took me by surprise. What did he mean 'do I want to be a warrior'? Of course I want to be a warrior! Did he have clouds for brains?! A deeper more… eh… intricate side of me came out in a way. Had he been watching me? Seeing some flaws in my young warrior-ship that could be fixed? Did he think that I was unenthusiastic about my duties?

A part of me figured that that hypothesis was right. I secretly didn't find being a warrior all that fun. The only thing you did really is hunt. There was barely ever any action. The only thing we might have is an occasional fox wander into the territory but they rarely came near the camp. All the action happened when I was just a kit and I missed it all. I had heard all these epic, heroic tales about my mother fighting off a pack of dogs along with Gethin and killing Tigerstorm—the main threat to SkyClan's existence, but now… Things were… well… boring.

"What do you mean?" I asked as if I didn't get it.

"Are you disappointed with the way things turned out for you?"

Mouse-dung. "No. Of course not. Serving my Clan has been an honor," I lied. I was good at lying. I had to be.

"Don't give me that mouse-dung," he hissed with such harshness, I flinched. "But I feel for you and I understand that—"

"Don't patronize me old-timer," I growled, rising to my paws. "Just get off my back and keep out of my way!" Without waiting for another word, or to gaze at his astonished face, I turned and pelted off into the trees, muttering to myself.

I found myself heading back to camp. I slowed when I reached the entrance, fury still hot on my pelt. Did he think I was weak or something? Still just a kit that had their dreams crushed? I wasn't some helpless kit or confused apprentice. I was a warrior dammit and I wanted to be treated like one.

As I padded down into camp, I was caught by Crescentmoon. "Stripeclaw!" She sounded relieved. "Thank StarClan you're back. We need someone to guard the camp entrance," she explained.

From what exactly? "I'll do it," I said nonchalantly. "Where are all the others?"

"On patrol," the middle-aged female deputy replied. "You were late."

Dammit Gethin. "Yeah, sorry. Gethin wanted to see me. My mother told me to go see him," I said. And it was true. My mother had messed it up this time.

"It's fine," Crescentmoon meowed. Of course it is when my mother's involved. Crescentmoon follows her blindly after what happened with Tigerstorm since he was Crescentmoon's mate. I found that completely idiotic. "Just guard the entrance will you?"

I nodded and retraced my steps back up the path to the camp entrance and gazed around impassively. Paw and Noonshine were outside the elders' den speaking with Peelfur, who appeared to be coughing. Lavendermoon and her brother, Sunblaze sat by the fresh-kill pile, sharing tongues. Why couldn't they guard the camp? I kept my gaze focused on Lavendermoon for a moment. She was beautiful, her pale bluish-gray pelt seemed to shine lavender in the sunlight. Long ago, I promised the one day, she would be my mate. She barely noticed me. Fantastic way to start a relationship, right?

"Stripeclaw," a familiar voice mewed from beside me, making me jump.

I whipped my head sideways, making my eyes hurt from the whirling vision. They settled on a pure white she-cat with bright blue eyes just like our mother's. "Hi Snowfire," I greeted my sister.

"Scared you did I?" she giggled.

My eyes rolled. "Please don't act like a kit," I muttered. Snowfire had always been the cheerful, happy-go-lucky one of us. She was kind and trusting to all, which made her weak. She was too trusting in my opinion. Then again, who would betray us? We lived in a perfect world with no flaws… No action…

"Fine then," she mewed trying to sound insulted. "Someone has their fur ruffled."

"You got that right," I replied irritated. "Don't you have some kits to entertain? Like Faithfulheart's kits that won't leave me alone?"

Snowfire's whiskers twitched in amusement. "All right Stripes," she purred.

I flattened my ears against my head in annoyance. I hated it when cats called me by my given name. Stripes was a kittypet name for weak cats that never left their gardens or whatever they called those fenced in areas. Never progressing in their lives, never finding love, never having adventure, just existing. Having Twolegs make all your decisions for you…

Returning my gaze to the camp, I yawned. What was really the point of all this? Watching and guarding when nothing would ever happen. I could've been hunting. Actually doing a service for the Clan.

That's when I got the idea. Nothing was going to happen, so what would be the harm in going hunting for a bit? Would anyone really notice my absence? Quietly, I turned and left the camp.

I padded out into the forest. The sweet scents of the green-leaf season swarmed around me. A thrush trilled a dynamic song as I padded along. I opened my mouth to detect any scents of prey and one scent in particular caught my attention—rabbit.

Crouching low in the grass so my belly fur brushed against it, I inched forward carefully, my tail elevated slightly so it wouldn't rustle any leaves on the ground. I then saw the rabbit. It's brown fur trembled with its breathing as it nibbled on some grass. I crouched lower, trying to keep downwind.

Just as I was about to spring, a yowl from nearby split the air. The rabbit's head raised in alarm as did my own. I looked over my shoulder, when I looked back, the rabbit was already pelting to the safety of its warren. Swearing, I rose to my paws. "What in the name of the Dark Forest…" I muttered.

Then I made out what the voice was saying. "BADGERS IN THE CAMP!"

A/N: Review?