Chapter Two
"Nngh. Ugh. Urk!" Mistyheart twitched in her sleep, pained by what
was happening in her head.
Mistyheart was surrounded by flames. A cold, sinister voice hissed
in the shadows.
"Wheh heh heh. You will never be like them. You will never be
perfect. Everything you do is flawed, and you fight for it. Why? Why not join
us, where we are all the same. There is no difference. We are all one mind. But
no. You think that what you do is valiant, noble, maybe even brave. It's not.
You are fighting yourself, and it's a battle you're losing. Join us, and you
will be perfect." A ghastly image of what she had always feared herself becoming
appeared out of smoke and crimson fire.
"NOOOO!" Mistyheart awoke panting in her nest of moss and
feathers. Clutching the little black-and-white toy dog her mother had made for
her out of feathers, fur and other oddities when she was a kit, Mistyheart lay
awake, mulling over the nightmare.
Fire. Why did it always have to be fire? She had always hated fire, ever since one of the elders told her a story about a Twoleg nest being destroyed in a fire. The story was supposed to be hopeful, but Mistyheart couldn't sleep for days afterwards. Of course, there was also the story of the flame-cat, but that leader of legend wasn't really made of fire. And that horrible voice, cruel and taunting. It wasn't Wolftail's voice, that
she knew all too well. Wolftail's voice was dripping with honey and sarcasm, a
bitter combination that attracted all but Mistyheart. It was something darker,
something that came from her own mind. She was fighting herself, a battle she
was losing. Mistyheart dismissed the thought and headed out to the main chamber
for the dawn patrol.
"Hey, Mistyheart!" Bumbletail yowled. Mistyheart turned her head
sharply, wondering what it was that the young tom wanted. She padded over to
him, noticing that a rather bad-tempered apprentice was sulking in a corner.
"What?" she asked. Other than the sulky apprentice, whom she
identified as Softpaw, nothing seemed wrong.
"Softpaw here . . ."
"Bristlepaw," the apprentice retorted.
"Bristlepaw won't do anything I say."
Softpaw was Bumbletail's apprentice, and she was known for having
a wicked temper. Mistyheart chuckled. She had always secretly rather liked
Softpaw's stubborn attitude. The little brown-and-white she-cat was only
friendly with her cousins Goldenpaw, Fuzzpaw, and Lionfur. To all other cats,
including her fellow apprentices, she was cold and snappy. But Mistyheart
figured that she had a pretty good grasp on just why Softpaw was being difficult
to her mentor. Mistyheart crouched down to the young she-cat's eye level.
"He's calling you Softpaw, isn't he?" Mistyheart asked. Softpaw
nodded.
"And you don't like that name?" Softpaw nodded again and flicked
her ear.
"Softpaw is such a dumb name. It makes me seem weak, just like
the other she-cats around here. Don't you hate being a she-cat? Everyone
expecting you to have kits someday . . ." Softpaw shuddered at the thought. "The
toms are lucky, they don't have to have kits."
"So I call myself Bristlepaw," she finished. Mistyheart nodded in
understanding.
"Well, I think that Bristlepaw's quite a fitting name, much better
than Softpaw," she replied.
"You really think so?" Bristlepaw's piercing blue eyes shone with
joy from the comment. Mistyheart nodded again.
"Thanks, Mistyheart!" Bristlepaw scampered over to where the other
apprentices were sitting to tell them of what the Clan deputy had told her.
Bumbletail, who had been sitting there the entire time, stood with his jaw
gaping.
"How do you do it, Mistyheart, I'll never know. Soft-" Mistyheart
silenced him with a glare. "Bristlepaw was bothering me all day, and yet she
listened to you just with a few encouraging words. No wonder Fernstar chose you
to be deputy, you're incredible!" The tom sauntered away cheerfully. Mistyheart
watched after him as he went outside to patrol, glad of his praise. It helped
erase the dark thoughts of her dream last night.
She had to wonder why Bumbletail was having such trouble with
little Bristlepaw. Bumbletail was a good-natured cat, always making jokes and
ready to offer a smile. Mistyheart guessed that he had talked down to Bristlepaw
and made her feel weak without meaning it. Meanwhile, Bristlepaw was telling her
fellow apprentices to only call her by that name, and not Softpaw.
Mistyheart saw the little rebellious she-cat as an echo of
herself, and never wanted Bristlepaw to see the same hurt that she had. But she
knew that Bristlepaw was stronger and tougher than she was, and was confident in
the apprentice. Mistyheart smiled. "Never give up, Bristlepaw. Never let that
fire be extinguished, because some will try to tame you and make you into
something you're not. And sometimes you'll believe them. But never lose hold of
who you truly are, for if you do, it may haunt you forever. Some fires hurt and
destroy, but others blaze new trails. Keep that fire burning, Bristlepaw, for it
is one not to be feared. Keep it burning forever," she whispered as her voice
was lost on the breeze. "Never give up hope."