WAITING

Swiftpaw romped through the feather land with his two new friends, Creekpaw and Aerpaw. Together they raced through softly padded feather nests for quick napping, splashed through pools of sweet water, and rolled around in feather bushes, seeing how many feathers they could spray into the air. They would tackle each other down in the soft wonderland, pretending they were still alive.

Creekpaw was a light grey tabby with darker stripes. He looked more cute than beautiful, his face turned vacant and innocent, his ears perky and his amber eyes perfectly round. His tail was short and his legs were stocky. He was a bouncing ball of cute, gorgeous, lovable fun. He had died thirty seven moons ago.

Aerpaw was a very serious cat. He had died thousands of moons ago, not long after the Great Clans had disappeared. He still had the accent of his ancestors. He had an interesting coat, dark brows with lots of round black spots, as if he were closely related to LeopardClan. It was likely, actually. He had pure orange eyes and was incredibly handsome. Lots of she-cats swooned at his rich, thick coat. He had three thousand, seven hundred and thirty four she-cats. Swiftpaw could see why.

"Don't you ever get bored here?" Swiftpaw asked him. Personally, he couldn't imagine staying in this perfect place for so long.

"No," Aerpaw said, and shook his head. "This is too much of a good place for one to get bored. When I get bored doing one thing, like drinking sweet water, I go and sleep. If I get bored sleeping, I go eat fruit. I do all the activities and then start over. It is fun."

"Well, okay, that's good." Swiftpaw said, but he didn't believe Aerpaw that much. There was only about seven activities in the whole of StarClan, and he couldn't imagine doing them again and again and again for the rest of eternity.

Tomorrow, Swiftpaw would be allowed to go and visit ThunderClan, and he couldn't wait. Already, he'd been dragging his feet for the five days before. He was already bored here in StarClan. Seven more she-cats had asked if he would be their tom, and they all looked shocked when he turned them down. But he wasn't going to loose himself to a bunch of bored she-cats who didn't even know his name.

"Have you ever left camp?" Swiftpaw asked both his friends as they took a break in their playing.

"We're not allowed to," Creekpaw said quickly. "There's nothing out there, and if we get far enough away we can't see the camp anymore, we could get lost forever. And then we'd wander the nothingness till the end of time. Only a few cats are allowed to go out there, like Airfeather because she was assigned to pick up cats who just died. And Starstar, of course. But he can do anything they want."

"What about other StarClans, though?" Swiftpaw asked, "Like the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Where would you find them if you wandered in the nothingness forever?"

"We don't know about other StarClans," Aerpaw said, "For all we know, the Tribe of Endless Hunting could be another life. Every StarClan is unique in its own way."

"This one's the boring one, then," Swiftpaw muttered under his breath, but neither cat heard him.

"Have you ever gone back to visit your Clans?" Swiftpaw asked after they'd been lying in the feather grass for a while.

"I decided I was going to at first, but after five days I didn't really want to," Creekpaw said, "I mean, this place is so much better. Why go back to RiverClan?"

"WindClan was in turmoil when I died," Aerpaw meowed, "We still had leopards who wanted to live amongst us and we fought to drive them out. I was killed in one of those battles. When I first arrived, I was desperate to see if my father and mother had survived, but when five days passed, I didn't care anymore. They weren't my concern."

Swiftpaw furrowed his brow. Then why did he want to return so badly? Was there something wrong with him? Was he supposed to be having more fun up here in the land of stars?

"I'm worried about my little sister," Swiftpaw said honestly, "Her name's Hollykit and she's only two moons old. She was premature and weak at birth."

"The young ones are always a cause of worry," Aerpaw said wisely, "But I bet you, Swiftpaw, come tomorrow and you won't even remember her anymore."

Suddenly, Swiftpaw felt a rock drop into his stomach. It was almost the end of the fifth day and he wanted so desperately to go back to his Clan and see his little sister and his Clanmates. It wouldn't make sense for him not care in the least tomorrow morning. Did StarClan do something to you on the night before you five-day suspension ended so that you wouldn't want to visit the next day? He surely hoped not.

Just to be safe, I'll stay awake tonight, he thought.

"Let's do something fun," Creekpaw mewed.

"There's nothing fun to do here," Swiftpaw said too loudly.

Aerpaw looked up at him but then back at the fruit he was nibbling. "Eat." He suggested.

"Boring," Swiftpaw sighed.

"Sleep?"

"Boring," Swiftpaw repeated.

"What about romp?"
"We already did that. Boring."

"Mate?"

"Lame. Boring."

Both Creekpaw and Aerpaw looked at him funny. "You don't like it here, do you?" Creekpaw asked.

Swiftpaw wasn't sure how to answer that. He liked being beautiful. He liked all the freedom. He liked the soft feathers, the good food, and the sweet water. He liked his nest. But he was bored. He was revolted by the free-mating thing. He wanted to go back. He wanted to hunt. He wanted to fight. He wanted to feel pain. He wanted to strip away the warm comfortable, filmy fogginess covering him and be himself, all senses alert, searching for prey in the forest.

"I don't know," he said, and rolled over.

--

Swiftpaw sat awake in his hut. The next below him was warm and soft, nagging him to fall asleep. But he wouldn't. He didn't want anything to come in the night and make him not want to go home.

Home, he thought with a sigh. He wasn't sure what home was.

You're dead now, Swiftpaw, he told himself. You always wondered what death was like. Here you are. Dead.

He moved his head from side to side, uncomfortable and nervous. My mother always said death was better than anything on life. Everybody always told me death was your reward for struggling in life.

He furrowed his brow. Something wasn't right about that.

Then why do I want to go home so bad?

He wanted to be alive. He wanted to be alive very badly. He didn't want to be dead.

Swiftpaw stopped and listened. The StarClan camp was very, very silent. The bright black sky overhead was free of stars or a moon, making it seem empty and cold. He couldn't hear a sound. Where was the bracken rustling in the wind, the soft snores of other cats? He missed it so bad. StarClan was the heaven for dead cats, and yet it was so dead itself. So quiet. So free of scents. So tasteless. Bland. Empty. Dead.

He wanted to sleep. He was tired. But he didn't let himself. Instead, he left his hut and headed tot he nearest pool of water. He took a long drink. He missed tasteless, icy water. The water in StarClan was sweet and warm. He wished he could empty his mouth of taste so he could sharpen his senses. But you couldn't do that. There was nothing here to cleanse you.

It was not at all dark out here in the camp. Light came from deep within bushes, from inside trees, making the camp full of a soft, beautiful glow. There was no moon or stars but the camp was artificially lit anyway.

He stayed awake a little longer until the sky started to grow lighter and the cats moved from their huts and into the camp to get their mice and fruit for breakfast. To avoid socializing or running into any questioning she-cats, Swiftpaw turned and moved the other way at a swift place.

However, he wasn't sure where to go. There had to be some place where you could visit the living world. He searched for some kind of portal. But there was nothing.

Maybe there was a cat he could find, who could help him. He knew that the medicine cat at home, and the leader were occasionally visited by a StarClan cat named Firestar. But finding one cat in the trillions of cats that made of StarClan would be next to impossible.

As he was searching around, he ran into a black and white cat with a cross expression on his gorgeous face, as if he was looking for something he couldn't find.

"Shouldn't you be eating?" The cat said, rather rudely.

"Oh, I'm not hungry," Swiftpaw told him, making his face full of innocent beauty, "I'm looking for someone or something that can let me visit the living world."
The black and white tom looked confused for a second, his cute, fuzzy brow furrowed. "And how long have you been here?"

"Five days," Swiftpaw confirmed proudly.

The cat glared a little longer than finally said, "Right this way." And led him through the grasses and bushes to the edge of camp. There, several StarClan warriors sat together socializing. Laughter poured out of their conversations. Swiftpaw noticed breifly that they were all colored all black, all white, or black and white mixed.

They stopped talking when Swiftpaw arrived and slightly-glaring, slightly-snobby expressions sliced through their perfect faced. All eyes met his.

"This cat would like to visit the living world," Swiftpaw's accompanier meowed curtly.

"How long has he been here?" One cat, all black, asked with a frown.

"Five days," Swiftpaw said.

The cats looked at each other. More than half of them turned and walked away without a word. Only a few remained, conversing in quiet, quick hisses together.

"You want to visit the living?" One white cat asked, poking his head above his clique of cats.

"Yes," Swiftpaw mewed with the slightest touch of impatience.

The cats argued together for a few more seconds until everyone else left and one cat stayed. "Please wait here for a minute," he meowed and hurried off.

Swiftpaw waited. He watched the sky turn lighter and lighter. He wondered why the StarClan cats were making such a big deal about his wanting to visit. Was he maybe not ready? Was it six days, instead of five? Had he heard wrong?

He waited and waited. Time passed rapidly. Nobody showed up. Swiftpaw began to get bored waiting here, but when he thought about what else he could do, waiting to visit seemed much more fun. So he waited until it a little past sunhigh when a black cat, two black and white cats, and a white cat returned to him.

"We need your name, how old you were when you died, and how long you have been here," One of the black and white's said.

"It's Swiftpaw, and I was twelve moons old when I died. I've been here for five days.

There was a pause. "Why do you want to visit the living world?" The white cat asked.

"I want to make sure my Clan is faring well. There are a few cats I am worried about that I want to check in with."

The cats exchanged a 'what is this cat's problem' look and then the black mewed, "Wait here for a second." And the party of cats left.

It was sunset by the time another cat came for him. This time it was a short black and white she-cat with amber eyes. She smiled at him and asked, "What did you do last night?"
Swiftpaw was puzzled for a second, before he mewed, "I slept in my hut."

"Did you sleep fitfully? Did you spend most of your time awake?"

"No," he lied, "I slept."

"Alright," she said, "Please follow me."

As he followed her along the edge of camp, he wondered if most cats had to go through this whole ordeal when they wanted to visit. It was sure annoying.

The black and white cat stopped not long later. "Alright, here we are," She mewed.

Two black toms sat guarding a small pool if water with serious, gorgeous faces. They were muscular and thickset. Swiftpaw eyed them warily.

A white tom came and addressed Swiftpaw.

"Hello," He said, "My name is Thornfoot. I'm in charge of all visitations. You have asked to visit the living world and we will grant you your wish. However, we have a few terms and conditions."

Swiftpaw waited expectantly.

"First, you must not share any information on what StarClan is like to any living cat. It has to remain a surprise. That is how the life cycle works. We can't have living cats knowing what death is like. Then they'd all want to come here and enjoy the luxuries, and they'd die before they're ready! That's not right, is it?"

Swiftpaw shook his head.

"And second, you must return." The white tom looked at him with strict, beautiful eyes, forcing him to understand. "You must not stay in the living world. The longest you can stay there is a half-moon. And then you must return. Do you hear me? You. Must. Return."

"I got it," Swiftpaw said with a nod.

"And when you want to return, say these words: I wish to return to StarClan. You will immediately come back."

"Now look into this pool."

The two large black toms stepped aside and Swiftpaw peered into the water. He gasped as he saw a perfect, overhead view of the entire forest, every tree, every bush included. He saw WindClan's territory, ShadowClan's, RiverClan's and ThunderClan's. He could even see the tiny forms of cats moving around.

"Tell me where you want to go."

"ThunderClan," Swiftpaw mewed.

ThunderClan territory zoomed in so it covered the entire pool now. Swiftpaw looked into the camp and could even see the Highledge.

"Where in ThunderClan territory?" The white tom asked.

"Somewhere near the camp," Swiftpaw responded.

"Alright."

A well-forested area not far from the edge of camp zoomed in briefly then zoomed out so he could once again see the whole forest. A ripple passed through the surface of the pool, making it choppy.

"Jump into the pool and keep swimming no matter what happens," the white tom told him, "Just don't stop no matter what."

"Alright," Swiftpaw rasped. He took a deep breath, trapped it in his longs and jumped into the pool.

The water was warm and pleasant and it pulled at his fur. He opened his eyes and instantly saw a tunnel carved into stone, stretching in front of him. He started to swim rapidly that way. He didn't like it the way there was rock above him and below him, so he couldn't swim up and get air. But oddly enough, he didn't seem to need to breathe.

He kept on swimming. Not long later, the water started to get stronger, the current pulling him along. Soon, it was strong enough he no longer needed to swim. And then it started to spin, and he went around around in circles as the tunnel branched downward into darkness.

Finally it was too dark to see. Swiftpaw floundered and thrashed his paws as he was whisked up, down and around. He didn't seem to need air, but he wondered what would happen if he inhaled water. Could a dead cat die again?

The water started to roar and pound in his ears, but it was too dark to see anything. Swiftpaw thundered down and down, aware of water hitting him at rapidly changing speeds. Just as he was sure it was never going to end, and he was going to be beaten apart by vicious water, it began to slow down. He was aware of himself getting pulled along by gentle water. Light began to filter into the tunnel, so he could once again see.

It got brighter and brighter as he went on, and then the walls of the tunnel curved away from him, and he realized he was falling with lots of water. He was falling down very,very quickly. He couldn't tell where the ground was.

He fell and fell and fell. Then the water began to curl away from him, fading away to wisps of nothing around him. Stars and little pricks of light followed him and he traveled downward, and then he tumbled and tumbled and hit the ground with a soft bump that made him only stumble.

Sorry for that longer-ish chapter. I liked the way he got back to the real world. It was fun to write. I hope you liked it. Next chapter we get to meet an important cat! Review!