Here's a new chapter!
. . .
Nightkit
Nightkit watched the two other toms with huge, placating green eyes.
"Why am I in StarClan?" she whispered. "Why did you bring me here?"
Stormflight's eyes softened, and he reassuringly mewed, "You're not dead if that's what you're worried about. You're merely... incapacitated for the time being."
Nightkit shuddered as she recalled the feeling of the chills that her sickness had brought her. Recalled the feeling of swimming in that horried darkness and the feel of it as it lapped hungrily against her body.
"Couldn't you have thought of a better way to do it?" she mumbled, screwing her eyes shut in an to banish the memories.
"Now, little one," Stormcloud, Stormflight's Father mewed gently. "It was the only thing that could have brought you to us on such short notice. One doesn't simply visit StarClan, after all."
"No," Nightkit murmured, catching on. "You have to be dead."
"Yes," Stormcloud mewed, fixing her with a gentle gaze. "And in the case of a Clan leader or their medicine cat, we visit them."
Nightkit blinked. "What about me, then?"
"In your case, Nightkit," Stormflight cut in, piercing her with serious blue eyes. "It's the other way around. You're visiting us."
Nightkit must have looked confused, for Stormflight let out a sigh of frustration, muttering, "Honestly, just what was StarClan thinking when they decided to include a moon old kit in all of this?"
It was then that Stormcloud took over, and his gentle gaze faded into a smoldering fire. "Nightkit," he mewed, voice and fiery eyes firm, "I'd ask my son to stop revealing so much since you're so young and all, but time is of the essence. I barely know enough as it is and Stormflight knows even less than I do. I'd prefer not to get Breezefeather in order to explain things better, but it seems as if I must. After all, he knows the most out of the three of us."
"Not Breezefeather," Stormflight suddenly groaned. "He ticks me off so much."
"Tolerate him if only for Nightkit," Stormcloud berated, but his voice and eyes were gentle.
Stormflight sighed. "Fine," he muttered. "Doesn't mean that I don't hate him, though."
Stormcloud's voice was filled with humour as he mewed, "You can go and find him, then."
Stormflight shot his Father a look of plain shock. "You've got to be kidding me," he complained. "He's even more unpleasant than Brightfeather! And that's saying something!" he grumbled.
Stormcloud merely chuckled, and even Nightkit felt entertained when she was born witness to the playful banter between Father and son.
"Do your old Father a favour and go fetch Breezefeather," Stormcloud ordered in an incredibly serious voice.
Nightkit giggled at it, and the two turned near incredulous faces at her.
"She actually laughed," Stormflight finally said.
Nightkit eyed him in confusion, and he returned one with equal intensity.
Finally, the grey-blue tom sighed, and he murmured deeply, "When I first heard about you, I was very happy for your Mother. You see, she was a dear friend of mine, and I would be loathe to see her unhappy. I figured you would be a spitting image of her. Oh, how wrong I was. When I laid eyes on you for the first time, I honestly thought I was seeing your Father, Ashfall, and you're a near replica of him. And you seemed so solemn and serious, too. I honestly thought that you would be as withdrawn as he was. But then you laughed only moment ago and all my worrieswere washed away like rain."
Nightkit shifted uncomfortably, burning under the keen gaze of the grey-blue StarClan warrior.
He was incredibly handsome that it was daunting, but Nightkit forced herself to see past it, forced herself to see the true Stormflight.
The Stormflight that seemed so, so sad.
His eyes were even sadder than Ashfall's, and Nightkit knew her Father's eyes held much sorrow for a cat his age.
Ashfall had lost, but so had Stormflight.
Ashfall had gained, but Stormflight hadn't.
Stormflight seemed fairly young, but from the stories that Leafstorm often told her and Stormkit, old warriors were renewed once more when they set paw in StarClan.
But Nightkit could tell the difference between old and young.
She knew Stormcloud to be fairly old, even though he appeared young. There was a startling wisdom in his eyes, and by the way he held himself, it was clear that he had been very old when he had died.
But how old?
Nightkit didn't know.
"Stormflight, my son," Stormcloud suddenly mewed, voice soft. "Will you do me a favour and fetch Breezefeather for me? I do believe I saw him hunting by the stream earlier. We don't have much time left. Nightkit will wake up soon, and I want her to know as much as possible."
Stormflight scowled softly, but he nodded and padded away.
When his son was gone, Stormcloud sighed and seated himself more comfortably on the ground, gesturing with a nod of his head for Nightkit to do the same.
"What is it?" Nightkit whispered, peering up at him with fawn-like wonder in her eyes.
"You won't be meeting Breezefeather today, I'm afraid," Stormcloud sighed, his voice a deep rumble, and it seemed as if moons of living had crumbled down upon his shoulders, leaving him with nothing.
"Huh?" Nightkit blinked in confusion, mewing, "But I thought that I was!"
Stormcloud smiled gently, and he reached a paw over to her, laying it gently against her cheek. "All in due time, little one. You will meet Breezefeather when the time is right, and not before then. And I'm afraid that you will be waking up now."
Nightkit found herself blinking away tears. "But I just got here!" she protested, her voice high-pitched. "And you told me you would tell me why I came!"
"Shh, Nightkit," Stormcloud soothed. "I will tell you only one thing, but in return, you must promise me something."
"What's that?" she asked, sniffling.
His smile turned kind. "You must promise me that you will cry no more."
Nightkit sniffed once more, and she pulled away from his paw to wipe at her eyes. "I promise," she mumbled, voice muffled.
And then Stormcloud told her, and Nightkit couldn't have been more shocked.
"You are cursed with Shroud's power."
And that was when she woke up.
. . .
Nightkit sucked in a huge lungful of air, snapping her eyes open in the process.
Her vision was blurred and she blinked furiously to clear away the mist.
Strangely, it reminded her of her vision of StarClan, and the thought of that misty hunting ground sent a deep tremour of fear through her.
"Hey," a deep voice mewed next to her ear, "don't be so afraid."
"'M not afraid," Nightkit murmured, feeling sleep wash over her.
She was so sleepy and the mound of fur around her was so warm and inviting. She would close her eyes for a few seconds...
When she did, she heard another voice, near identical to the first, murmur something.
Nightkit just ignored the voice, though, and she wished it would just go away so she could sleep.
"Nightkit!" the voice snapped, sounding furious, yet at the same time, pleading. "Keep your eyes open," it pleaded.
Nightkit merely groaned in reply, burrowing deeper into the warmth surrounding her. She couldn't keep her eyes open even if she tried!
"Breezefur," the voice sighed. "Can you please move away so I can examine her?"
The warmth around her shifted, and then it was gone, and Nightkit felt a sharp, icy bite against her pelt.
She moaned at the loss of warmth, and as she did so, a series of sharp, hacking coughs escaped her throat.
A warm paw pressed to her throat, and, instinctively, Nightkit burrowed into it, nuzzling it with her muzzle.
"Nightkit," a voice murmured into her ear, and this one was different than the first. It was deeper, more silky sounding, and Nightkit found that she liked it. "I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that for me?"
She groaned at the thought of opening her eyes, but this voice was asking so nicely; more nicely than the first!
So Nightkit did.
A face swam into view.
A silver tabby with concerned green eyes bearing down at her.
His lips were pursed in a frown, and Nightkit blearily noticed that his eyes were dulled; almost as if he was suffering from some sort of malady himself.
When he seemed to notice that she was awake, the frown faded and was replaced with a relieved smile.
"Hey," he smiled gently, "you okay?"
Nightkit just stared up at him with bleary, unfocused eyes, and as she did so, the paw on her throat pressed down harder before retreating.
"Still greencough," the voice from before sighed. "But as Darkflower always said, they have to get worse before they get better. Still, her fever's still pretty vicious, and her body's so small..." it trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Lionfang!" the cat above her snarled. "Don't say things like that! What would you do if Ashfall heard you saying that?!"
At the end, he erupted in a series of sharp, hacking coughs- the same that Nightkit had experienced earlier, and he when he finished, he looked dizzy; a dazed look present in his dulled green eyes.
Lionfang sighed, sounding vastly pained. "Breezefur," he implored. "Night's only a moon old, and I'm not saying this to be mean or conscending, but her body's so tiny, weak I'd say. She'll be apprenticed late, and it'll be a long a time before she becomes a warrior. She'll need guidance, but I'm not sure if any will be willing to give it."
"I'll give her guidance," Breezefur vowed, his voice a rumble as he settled against her, curling around her and offering her his warmth.
"How can you?" Nightkit managed to rasp between coughs, gazing up at him with glassy eyes. "How can you possibly help me if I'm so weak?"
Breezefur merely smiled. "I was just like you when I was a kit," he murmured softly. "Weak, sickly. My parents, Honeypelt and Silverflame, weren't sure if I would survive my first night. It wasn't very apparant when I was born, but when I failed to open my eyes after Lionfang and Dustcloud, they worried. They asked Darkflower, of course, but there wasn't much she could do except wait. Finally, after a few days, I began to get stronger, and not long after that, I opened my eyes."
Breezefur's tale was beginning to send her to sleep, and the last thing she felt before she fell asleep was the sensation of Lionfang's paw against the side of her face, and him announcing, "She's still got quite a fever raging. I think it'll be best if I get some herbs for her and let her sleep it off."
. . .
Rosekit
Rosekit snapped her eyes open, staring up into the brambles in excitement.
It would be her apprentice ceremony today!
She was so excited.
The only downside to it all was that Mistkit and his sister would be becoming an apprentice with her. She had nothing against Rainkit, of course, it was just her brother that Rosekit hated.
Hated with a large, fiery passion.
Rosekit got to her paws when she heard something very unattractive.
It was whining.
She whipped her head to the entrance, and what she saw made her giggle out loud.
Mistkit was being groomed by his Mother against his will, it seemed, with Rainkit giggling from the side.
The grey tom was struggling against Blackwing's paws, but no matter what he did, the black-furred queen was too strong for his kit-like strength.
"What's going on?" a groggy voice asked.
Rosekit glanced at the corner, smiling fondly.
Leafstorm was sitting up in the corner, blinkly at them tiredly.
Rosekit knew that her aunt had been up all night worrying over her tiny two moon old daughter.
Nightkit had had a bad bout of coughs the night before, and the Clan feared that she might be taken to StarClan before the next Gathering.
Leafstorm had agonised over that, putting up an enormous fuss, and fussing over her two remaining kits, even if Dusk wasn't hers.
Rosekit didn't think that the loner liked it very much, but he didn't say anything about, either.
Stormkit, however, seemed unfeeling about the whole thing.
Rosekit could see that the only thing he truly cared about was his sister, and she knew that it was a horrible thing to think.
But she wouldn't dwell on it.
No, she would dwell on the fact that she was finally becoming an apprentice.
And sooner than she could imagine, she was standing before the Highrock, her heart nearly bursting in excitement.
"I have called you here today to witness a momentous occasion," Fernstar mewed happily. "The apprenticeship of Rosekit, Mistkit and Rainkit. Hopefully the apprenticeship of these kits will chase away some of the darkness that has been here for the past few moons."
Rosekit noted sadly what her Mother meant: the fact that Nightkit had yet to recover from her sickness, and it only seemed to be growing worse with every passing day.
Rosekit could see her cousin, though, and she wondered how Lionfang had let her go when she was obviously still sick.
Nightkit was slumped weakly over Ashfall's paws, gazing up at her Father with tired eyes. Ashfall, meanwhile, was staring at his daughter with such sorrow in his river-blue gaze that it was almost heartbreaking to see.
Rosekit looked away.
"Dustcloud," Fernstar began, her good eye twinkling. "You have been a good, loyal warrior for many tireless moons, and I believe that you're ready for your first apprentice. You will mentor Mistpaw."
Dustcloud stepped foreward, a happy smile on her face as she greeted her new apprentice. Mistpaw wasn't quite the same; he stalked foreward with an arrogant smile on his face, and it only grew as the pair touched noses.
Fernstar continued, "Ashfall, you had an excellent mentor in Darkfire, and I hope that you will pass on all you know to Rainpaw."
Ashfall's head shot up, and Rosekit felt alarmed.
Just what was her Mother thinking giving Ashfall an apprentice when his daughter was so sick?
The warrior stalked foreward with a sigh, and Rosekit admitted that he truly was a sight with his hunched, strong shoulders, his blue eyes flashing coldness.
Rainpaw flinched as he bent his head, and Rosekit could see the apprentice shrink in on herself as they touched noses.
Than Rosekit realised that she was the only one remaining, and she felt her heart leap into her throat.
Just who would Fernstar pick as her mentor?
Rosekit didn't know.
"Shadowpelt," her Mother mewed, her tone belying her seriousness. "You have grown in maturity and wisdom in the past six moons, and I believe that you are ready for your first apprentice. You will mentor Rosepaw."
Rosepaw was peturbed when her new mentor stepped foreward.
His blue eyes glared down at the ground, and Rosepaw had to wonder what he was thinking about.
When he came to a stop in front of, she froze, and to her embarrassment, she coloured quite brilliantly as she smiled shyly up at him.
He was a dark-grey, near black, and his blue eyes were big and bright, set aflame with a strange, almost child-like innocence.
Fernstar had said that Shadowpelt had matured- did that mean that he was arrogant?
Rosepaw didn't know.
"H-Hello," she whispered tremulously as they touched noses. "I'm Rosepaw."
"Hmph," the grey warrior grumbled, turning his face away. "I know. Fernstar announced it just then."
Never had Rosepaw felt so stupid, and as the pair stood there awkwardly, all she could think was: What did I say wrong?
