A/N: More plot in this chapter!
Chapter Eight
Leafbare was a harsh season, and one that had in the past forced the three Clans to, temporarily, work together in a way. Oh, they didn't share territory or food or shelter, oh no. The medicine cats, however, often required an escort to the Fallen Oaks, where they would discuss trades and shortages of medicine, any outbreaks of illnesses that could bring many deaths to the Clans. Even antagonistic and isolated CreekClan offered such information, when in every other season they would rather protect their own Clan and let the others die.
Because of this need, however, the journey was taken twice a moon during Leafbare, and this time, Sparrowpaw would be a part of the escort. It was her first time in the No-Clan Territory and the Fallen Oaks, as apprentices weren't allowed at any Gatherings, considering they took place on the trees themselves, and there was always a risk of falling off for younger cats.
"Don't bite too hard, Sparrowpaw," Nightfur meowed as he carefully handed her a kit-sized bundle of dried poppy flowers, carefully wrapped in an old squirrel pelt. "We don't want you to crush the flowers and release the seeds, or end up chewing a seed while we're traveling." Sparrowpaw awkwardly and carefully nodded, and was just relieved that she wasn't Rabbitfoot at that moment, because the gray queen was the one elected to carry the squirrel pelt that held the bundles of mouse bile soaked moss, and the smell was strong enough to make Sparrowpaw's nose and eyes burn.
"Did you all eat your ragweed?" Rainstorm meowed; and Sparrowpaw purred her agreement, remembering the strange-tasting leaves she'd had to eat for strength. Though the journey wasn't long, they would have to stay at the Fallen Oaks for a long while, with little shelter, and so she would need the strength. "Let's go, then," the black tom meowed, scooping up his vole pelt pack holding some Tormentil roots, and led the way. Nightfur, carrying a squirrel pelt filled with cobwebs, leaped after him Rabbitfoot and Sparrowpaw following quickly.
They reached the edge of the No-Clan Territory and, without hesitation, crossed the Border. Sparrowpaw's heart gave a thrill, beating faster with excitement as they left MeadowClan territory behind and continued deeper onward. The different scents startled her more than the new sights of trees and bushes. Cat scents were faint, and, instead, the scents of trees and other animals, and even Twolegs, overpowered the half-familiar scent trails her Clanmates had taken through this section of the No-Clan Territory, making the hair on her ruff instinctively rise, unnerved as well and excited about the newness of the area.
"Stay close," Nightfur meowed, voice muffled by his burden. "And stay quiet." Sparrowpaw and Grasspaw nodded and instantly refocused, ears swiveling intently, searching for the sounds of danger. They continued on in silence, before, suddenly, they cresting a hill, and the four of them paused at the top.
"Whoa," Sparrowpaw murmured, getting a slow, agreeing nod from Grasspaw as the two apprentices laid their eyes on the Fallen Oak's for the first time. The two trees themselves were massive, as thick around as some Twoleg Monster's were long, and sprawled over the top of a narrow, deep ravine that was, from what they could see, filled with jagged roots and sharp rocks, the sound of running water echoing through the air from it's depths.
"Barkfur and his Apprentice are already here," Rainstorm meowed suddenly, and Sparrowpaw followed his line of sight to the far end of the trees, spotting a large, fat-looking cat with dark brown fur and thin black stripes. Next to him was a fluffy silver she-cat, who was apparently going over what few supplies they had brought. Rainstorm yowled, and the two cats looked up, their escort (an all-white tom and a pretty calico queen) coming out from their sentry places in the dead branches of the Fallen Oaks. Barkfur yowled in reply, and Rainstorm nodded.
"Come," he ordered, before leading the way down the hill, their group quick to follow. Soon enough, they were leaping up onto the Oaks, and darting down the long, long trunks to reach the end, which lay on the far side of the narrow ravine.
"Rainstorm, how are you this day?" Barkfur asked, voice solemn but kind; Rainstorm lifted his whiskers and nodded his head to the WoodClan cat, while gesturing with his tail for Sparrowpaw and the others to set their burdens down nearby.
"I am well, Barkfur. And you?" The brown tabby cat huffed softly, his own whiskers lifting in amusement.
"I am the same," he meowed in return, and flicked his tail to the side towards the young, fluffy queen behind him, who was resolutely counting strips of willow bark. "My new Apprentice, Owlpaw," he introduced; the silver she-cat look up, and her bright blue eyes gleamed brightly as she mewed a soft 'hello'. Rainstorm bobbed his head towards her in his own greeting, and flicked his tail at Nightfur, who paused from where he was making sure that none of their own supplies had spilled or would be blown away.
"Nightfur, a young Warrior and my own temporary apprentice," Rainstorm introduced; the young tom bobbed his head while Sparrowpaw sat down between the cold, light wind and the dried poppy flowers. Barkfur tilted his head in question, and Nightfur answered him.
"I was on punishment detail," he meowed sardonically; the WoodClan medicine cat's whiskers lifted, eyes narrowing in amusement, before he nodded in understanding. Before any more could be said, a loud yowl sounded from the distance, and every cat turned towards it instinctively.
A tall, pale brown tabby queen was standing at the far tip of the ravine. Behind her stood three other cats, her escort. As she led the three around the ravine and towards the Fallen Oaks, Sparrowpaw took a moment to examine their group.
To the she-cat's immediate left was a large brown tom with thick, shaggy fur and a badly torn ear, carrying a large leaf-bundle. Behind him ran a young, longhaired queen with a cream-colored coat, her paws, ears, and muzzle a dark brown, and carried in her jaws was a similar bundle. Finally, bringing up the rear, was a young tom who was well on his way to being massive, his gray-and-white coat blending in the snowy shadows. He looked rather familiar to Sparrowpaw, but she couldn't quite remember…
"I see Amberdawn has recovered from her illness," Barkfur meowed idly as the two medicine cats sat up straight to await the CreekClan cats. Rainstorm purred softly and nodded his head.
"That is good," he meowed in reply. "I had honestly feared that she would fall to the wet-cough, like her predecessor." Barkfur nodded grimly as the CreekClan cats reached the far end of the Oaks, and began to move towards the waiting cats.
"Rippleshine was a fine medicine cat," he acknowledged. "A little foolhardy, but well-meaning." Amberdawn and her escort finally made it, and, with a flick of her tail, she had her Clanmates setting down their bundles in an empty dip in the bark.
"Barkfur, Rainstorm," she meowed politely in greeting; the two toms meowed back, before she flicked her tail behind her. "I'm sure you two know Briarfoot," she said; the large shaggy tom bobbed his head, blue eyes bland and disinterested as he settled down to guard their supplies. Rainstorm and Barkfur, again, greeted the Warrior, before Rainstorm stretched.
"Let's get things started, shall we?" The three cats nodded, and began to discuss the supplies they'd brought, bargaining, haggling, and completely ignoring everything around them as they did so. Sparrowpaw decided that, as it appeared she was currently unneeded, to introduce herself to some of the other young cats, starting with the already-known Owlpaw, who had stopped her counting and was now licking her long, silver fur.
"Hello," Sparrowpaw greeted her cautiously; Owlpaw twitched, head jerking up and bright blue eyes startled, before her whiskers lifted in hesitant welcome.
"Hello," she greeted back tentatively; Sparrowpaw cautiously laid down, and lifted her whiskers toward the other she-cat.
"My name's Sparrowpaw," she introduced; the WoodClan medicine cat apprentice nodded in acknowledgement.
"Owlpaw," she meowed back; Sparrowpaw purred.
"Is this your first Leafbare Medicine Trade?" she asked cautiously; the silver apprentice nodded slightly.
"Barkfur decided that I'd learned enough," she informed the other she-cat carefully; Sparrowpaw purred and began to lick her paws, absently using her teeth to pull the painful snow from between her paw-pads.
"This is my first time to the Oaks," Sparrowpaw mewed absently, ear swiveling instinctively as she noticed the oddly familiar CreekClan tom casually approaching.
"Mine too," Owlpaw agreed; they didn't have time to say more before the tom was there, eying the two critically, but not aggressively, green eyes narrowing on Sparrowpaw consideringly.
"…Do I know you?" he asked her; she huffed and sat up, narrowing her gray eyes and opening her mouth, leaning closer and breathing in his scent while he cautiously did the same. Sparrowpaw pulled back in time to sneeze, the scent of muddy water tickling her throat. She sneezed again, and blinked at the larger cat cautiously.
"…Aren't you Redclaw's apprentice?" She asked, ears twitching as she tried to remember; he blinked, and then his eyes lit up with understanding.
"Ah," he meowed, nodding, pleased with his realization. "You're that one tom's apprentice, from moons ago. Pale-something, I think his name was…" Sparrowpaw nodded.
"Palestripe," she said; he bobbed his head, before lifting a foot to scratch at his ruff, yawning hugely.
"Well, I suppose I'll have to reintroduce myself," he meowed easily, green eyes bright but body still tense and cautious. "I am Heronpaw, of CreekClan." Sparrowpaw bobbed her head.
"Sparrowpaw of MeadowClan," she said; Owlpaw sat up, gaining their attention, and lifted her whiskers warmly.
"Owlpaw of WoodClan," she greeted them; Heronpaw purred in greeting, before a sharp hissing sound from his cream-furred Clanmate had him glaring over at her, where she was glaring at the three of them from beside Briarfoot, who was ignoring it. Heronpaw huffed in annoyance.
"Don't mind Coldpaw," he mewed quietly to the she-cats, eyes narrowing on his Clanmate. "She's got a burr stuck in her tail whenever it comes to these sorts of meetings. 'Every cat is an enemy'" he mimicked in a mockingly high-pitched mew. "'we should never deal with any cat but a CreekClan cat' she always says." Sparrowpaw purred, amused, before Owlpaw let out a sharp huff of air and jerked suddenly, gaining the other two apprentices attention immediately. Her blue eyes were wide, pupils tiny, and locked on the gray sky, her fur fluffing up and her body going unnaturally still. A ripple of unease had Sparrowpaw's fur standing and a high-pitched growl escaping her throat, Heronpaw's own rising and matching hers.
"What is it?" Rainstorm demanded as he appeared at Sparrowpaw's side, Barkfur and Amberdawn appearing as well, the WoodClan medicine cat moving straight to Owlpaw's side.
"A message from StarClan," he meowed softly; Sparrowpaw shifted sharply, and her ears pinned back. Rainstorm brushed his tail against her shoulder in silent comfort, but his eyes remained locked on the WoodClan apprentice.
"It is an unpleasant feeling for first-time observers," he meowed quietly to the shivering apprentice, and she managed a shallow nod, while the rest of the Clan escorts circled their group, eyes sharp and muscles tense, waiting.
With a sudden, sharp movement, Owlpaw's eyes closed and she shook herself, shuddering, like she had just climbed out of cold water.
"What was it?" Barkfur asked kindly; his apprentice took a slow, shaking breath, and opened her eyes, which were narrowed in confusion as they glanced up at him.
"It was a message from StarClan," she meowed, sitting, looking puzzled, "but it was not for WoodClan." Cats murmured, but Owlpaw ignored them, and, suddenly Sparrowpaw found herself locking gazes with the fluffy silver cat, and the surrounding cats quieted as Owlpaw spoke.
"Truth brought forth from a flock of crows," she informed her fellow apprentice, and Sparrowpaw found her fur standing once more on end, unnerved but unable to look away as the WoodClan cat spoke to her. "Beware the one who hides in plain sight." Owlpaw broke their locked gazes, and Sparrowpaw let herself shudder fiercely, shaking her fur uneasily back into place.
"What does that mean?" she managed to meow hesitantly; Owlpaw wouldn't look at her, still confused, so the young tabby queen turned her gray eyes to Rainstorm, who looked slightly grim.
"Only time will tell," he finally meowed seriously. "StarClan's meaning are often unveiled over time, and so, we shall have to wait and see." Sparrowpaw murmured her agreement, and, slowly, the cats separated and went back to their previous conversations. Owlpaw slunk over to curl against the side of the WoodClan calico queen ("Spottedclaw," Nightfur informed her when Sparrowpaw asked. "The tom is Snowheart. If you ever find yourself fighting, pray you're fighting him. Spottedclaw may seem sweet at the moment, but she's been known to kill cats in simple border battles, while Snowheart is well-known for treating queen's respectfully and gently."), while Sparrowpaw found herself being effectively herded off to the side by Heronpaw and Nightfur, the two toms eying one another warily. After they had locked eyes for several moments, Heronpaw huffed and flicked his ears irritably, tapping the she-cat on the shoulder.
"I'll see you at a Gathering sometime, Sparrowpaw," he meowed; she bobbed her head and watched as the already-large tom stalked away. Nightfur hissed softly after him, and Sparrowpaw swatted the black-furred tom with a huff.
"No fighting at the Fallen Oaks, Nightfur," she hissed softly; it was his turn to huff, before he led her over to Grasspaw and the separate escorts all remained in their little groups while the medicine cats continued to talk.
It wasn't until they were well on their way back to the camp, that Sparrowpaw felt a chill as she abruptly remembered something.
The message from StarClan said "Truth brought forth from a flock of crows". But a group of crows was never called a Flock.
It was called a Murder.
A/N: Ta-da! PLOT!
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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