CHAPTER 7

"Congratulations, Frightenedmouth," Cookiehead mewed, giving Frightenedmouth a little nudge. "The camp will be welcomed with new arrivals, and plus, we have no kits at the moment. I'm sure Laughingmouth must be very excited." Cookiehead took a little glance at the center of the camp.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHA," Laughingmouth yowled, rolling on the ground hysterically, tears streaming out of his eyes. He was humping up and down, up and down as laughs chortled out of his mouth. He banged his paw on the ground twice, still laughing.

Cookiehead gave a little chortle and then walked away from the queen. "Well, good luck, Frightenedmouth. Remember, they'll be a valuable addition to the Clan." Cookiehead sighed and walked away from the nursery. Frightenedmouth recently had been spending a lot of time with Laughingmouth since Nicepaw had been cured. The whole Clan was suspecting that they'd become mates, it was more than obvious. And now Frightenedmouth had moved to the nursery, with a new litter of kits to be expected. Mr. Therapist has been here quite a while, Cookiehead said to himself. I hope he'll know how to deliver kits.

"Mr. Therapist probably won't know," Stupidpaw mentioned, as if reading Cookiehead's thoughts. "Do you think I could help him during the kitting?"

Cookiehead thought it over for a while. "If you want, yes," he meowed. "It's Frightenedmouth's first litter, and we don't want her kits to die because they were delivered the wrong way. It'd be great if you'd help Mr. Therapist. How is Nicepaw doing, anyway?"

"Oh, perfect," Stupidpaw said. "She's got over her anger issues, and she's perfectly nice. The other day Serpentpaw had a sprained paw and she was more than happy to help. Mr. Therapist is pretty useful, don't you think?" A lump was in Stupidpaw's throat as she said that. She would have been that useful medicine cat!

"Glad to hear it," Cookiehead meowed. "Well, I'll need to be off now. Bye!" Cookiehead gave a departing nod to Stupidpaw and bounded away, towards the directions of the apprentices' den, hoping to see Nicepaw. Instead, he saw Serpentpaw, bouncing up and down, giddy with excitement.

"Serpentpaw, how's it going?" Cookiehead asked. "Um, do you know-"

"Stupidface said that I'll be competing in my final warriors' assessment soon!" Serpentpaw yowled. "What do you think my warrior name will be? Serpentstrike? Serpenttail? Serpenthiss?"

"Oh, that's great, Serpentpaw," Cookiehead meowed excitedly. "But I was just going to ask you, do you know where Nicepaw is?"

"Oh, I think I saw her out on a hunting patrol," Serpentpaw meowed. "She'll be back in a couple minutes. Anyway, aren't you excited! Maybe when you become leader, I could be your deputy and we could rule the Clan!" Serpentpaw flashed a big smile.

"If I become leader," Cookiehead meowed. "Bananastar's still got many moons in him to go." Cookiehead dipped his head to Serpentpaw and walked over to the other edge of the camp, where the Mernards entrance was. Cookiehead looked up, straining his eyes to see the Mernards several foxlengths away, where the river came rushing by, and the noise rumbled as if to drive off intruders. As Cookiehead looked up, waiting, he saw what seemed like a cat heading towards the entrance.

A cat! Cookiehead exclaimed. What cat is out at Mernards at this time? I'll need to investigate. Cookiehead narrowed his eyes and rushed through the entrance that led to Mernards, furiousness in his paws and excitement in his eyes. Cookiehead took bounds as he rushed through the brambles, getting it snagged on his fur, and leaped up and down, knocking dead leaves and grass everywhere. After a couple of runs, Cookiehead could see the river, and instead of bothering to the take the bridge, Cookiehead took a leap, hoping to fly across the river and land right on his feet to continue running.

Instead, he landed smack in the water and a wave flew out, soaking him and drenching him from the tip of his ears to the end of his tail.

"Ew!" Cookiehead exclaimed, brushing a wad of slimy green stuff off his pelt. Cookiehead padded to the edge of the shore and shook his pelt, water flying everywhere, but his pelt was still wet. "Curse that darn river!" Cookiehead growled, before resuming his run. The Mernards was getting closer, and soon he could see the building loom up before him. As soon as the double doors got in sight, Cookiehead took a sharp turn and ran straight into them. As they opened and closed, the deputy ran straight into the many aisles of Mernards. Candy was on one shelf, saws on the other. Toothbrushes on one, fresh-kill on another. Mernards was perfect, but the one sign of imperfectness was the fact it would be hopeless to ever find a cat in here.

Or not. Cookiehead turned to the right and saw a brown-pelted tom standing at the edge, his brown eyes wide in awe. Cookiehead ran towards the tom without a tom, leaped, and landed on him, crushing the breath all out of him. Before the tom could get a word in, Cookiehead unsheathed his claws. "Who are you?" he growled evily.

"I-I'm-I'm Brownwing," the tom stammered.

"Brownwing, eh?" Cookiehead asked. "That's a strange name. Yet it's a warrior name. Where are you from?"

"That's none of your business," Brownwing growled. "I'll fight you if I have to. You're a CrazyClan warrior, aren't you?"

"I might be, I might not," Cookiehead growled. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I-I found it," Brownwing stammered. "And-and I was e-exploring."

"It all sounds like fish paste to me," Cookiehead retorted. "I don't know any other groups of cats around here, and this is our Menards."

"Your Menards?" Brownwing growled. "Who ever laid claim to this territory? I don't see any scent marks on it!"

"We don't need to, it's in our territory," Cookiehead explained, exasperated.

"So you are in CrazyClan, are you?" Brownwing meowed smugly.

"Shut up," Cookiehead retorted, having nothing else better to say. "You aren't worth killing." Cookiehead stepped backwards and sheathed his claws.

Brownwing sighed in relief and shook his pelt. "So what is your name?" the cat asked.

"Cookiehead," the deputy replied. "But I'm not telling you anything else."

"Me neither," Brownwing humphed. "But this isn't just your Mernards, it's any cat's territory."

"Not only any cat's," Cookiehead meowed. "It's also home to Twolegs."

"Like the one that's behind you and is about to pull you up by your scruff," Brownwing helpfully commentated.

"WHAT?!" Cookiehead screamed. He spun around and saw a short twoleg with a blue and white smock on reaching towards him. Cookiehead unsheated his claws and sliced them across the Twoleg's leg, making it bleed. As the Twoleg stood there, awkwardly hopping on one leg and holding his injured foot with the other, Cookiehead rushed towards the other end of the store. "RUN!" he yelled hopefully at Brownwing.

As the two ran towards the dairy aisle, the Twoleg shouted some gibberish that the cats didn't understand. Almost immediately, extra footsteps were heard and another Twoleg dashed at the entrance to the dairy aisle. With a Twoleg behind them and a Twoleg in front of them, the cats were trapped.

"Not," Cookiehead said to the text, jumping onto a ledge of cans of cat food. Jumping from ledge to ledge, aisle to aisle, the cat thought he would be able to escape. But as he got ready to jump to the double doors, he saw a bunch of Twolegs streaming out of it, blocking it and running across the aisles. Some even jumped onto the ledges to grab the cats, but tripped over it and knocked supplies down, cans and bottles rolling all over the aisle.

"We need to get out of here somehow!" Brownwing yowled frighteningly.

"Don't worry, I have an idea," Cookiehead said to Brownwing, even though he was mostly directing it to himself. He looked up at the roof, noticing the long sticks stretched across it. One was really close to the ground, and Cookiehead wondered if he could jump onto it. Jumping from ledge to ledge, cans rolling underneath his paws, he saw the stick, just barely a foot from his face. "JUMP!" he yowled, and leapt onto the sticks, that were arranged all around the roof like a maze. Jumping from stick to stick, Cookiehead wondered if he could reach the emergency exit in the roof, without accidentially falling to his ultimate death.

Jumping from stick to stick, Cookiehead was almost oblivious of Brownwing behind him, only caring about getting to the emeregency exit in the roof without dying. But as he jumped, Cookiehead accedientally looked down below him and slipped down off a stick, plunging towards the bottom of the store floor. "HELP!" he yelled, even though he knew it would bring no actual help. Cookiehead closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't get to see his death in action.

Cookiehead waited a couple seconds.

He was still alive.

Cookiehead waited a couple more seconds.

He was still alive.

Finally, Cookiehead had the courage to open his eyes. When he did, he saw that he was still quite high above the store floor. Cookiehead twisted his head around and was happy to see that Brownwing's teeth were clenched fiercly in his scruff. Brownwing had saved Cookiehead from dying.

"Thank you," Cookiehead told Brownwing, out of breath. Brownwing nodded happily. "It was nothing. I couldn't stand to watch a cat die."

The conversation was brief, though. After Brownwing had saved Cookiehead, Cookiehead was able to get to the highest stick, where above him a square was embedded into the ceiling. Cookiehead stood there, panting, for a few moments.

"Where do we go now?" Brownwing asked.

"Above," Cookiehead answered. He pushed on the square above him and it opened, letting light flow in. Smelling the fresh breeze of the outdoors, Cookiehead clamped his paws on the edge and heaved himself up to the Mernards roof. After Brownwing had done the same, Cookiehead shut the door closed and looked at the surroundings of him. The two were now up on the Mernards roof, where no cat could ever go. Cookiehead sighed in relief.

"How will we get down?" Brownwing asked.

"Good question," Cookiehead replied. He pointed with his tail towards a nearby oak tree. "We jump from tree to tree until we reach the ground. Do you want to follow me?"

"Actually," Brownwing said, shuffling his paws on the ground, "I live somewhere else."

"It's fine," Cookiehead replied. He bowed his head to Brownwing. "We're going in opposite directions now. Thank you for alerting me of that Twoleg, and for saving me when I was about to die."

"Thank you for not killing me," Brownwing meowed. "But I'm sure I've done more for you then you've done for me."

"May StarClan light your path." Cookiehead dipped his head to Brownwing, and Brownwing did the same. Then Cookiehead turned his head around, leaped onto the oak tree, and from there to the next, all the way until he reached the river. From there, Cookiehead took the bridge across it and ran all the way back to the camp. Nicepaw must have returned by now, Cookiehead realized. And he was correct. He could see Nicepaw's black pelt at the other side of the camp.

"Nicepaw!" Cookiehead yelled, rushing towards her.

"What, Cookiehead?" Nicepaw asked sweetly.

"How are you going?" Cookiehead asked.

"Fine, thanks for asking," Nicepaw responded. "I caught a thrush and two voles on the patrol. Are you proud of me?"

"Very proud," Cookiehead replied. "Serpentpaw's going to become a warrior soon. Looks like you're not too far behind."

Cookiehead turned his head to Mr. Therapist's den. Hoping to see Mr. Therapist alone, he instead saw Mr. Therapist with Laughingmouth. Cookiehead ran closer. What was Mr. Therapist trying to do with Laughingmouth? As the two went into the medicine cat den, Cookiehead pressed against the den rock and stretched his ears.

"-sit down in this chair, it'll only take a few moments." That sounded like Mr. Therapist. There was a bit of scuffling around, and then the sound of metal. "There it is!" Mr. Therapist's voice sounded muffled, and he padded over to Laughingmouth. "Now sit here, and follow this with your eyes."

Cookiehead stretched his ears louder. Was Mr. Therapist hypnotising Laughingmouth?

"You are getting calm, very, very, calm," Mr. Therapist meowed. "From now on, instead of laughing hysterically, you will remain calm and try to keep your Clanmates at peace. When I saw 'hahaha', you will follow Mr. Therapist's instructions until another person says 'hahaha', and so forth. HAHAHA!"

There was no sound for a while. Then Laughingmouth padded out of the den, nodding at Cookiehead. "Hello," he meowed. Cookiehead pricked his ears in surprise. It was still strange to not see Laughingmouth bursting into laughs at anything. Is that what he did to Nicepaw? Did he hypnotise her to be nice?

Cookiehead looked at Mr. Therapist skeptically. Hypnotism is a good skill. But there is no use to hypnotise Laughingmouth at all! But Cookiehead did not do anything, instead wondering something. What is Nicepaw's hypnotising word? What if someone says it?

Cookiehead gave a large gulp. It's probably for the better. Mr. Therapist wouldn't just hypnotise Laughingmouth for fun. With that, Cookiehead shrugged his shoulders and padded over to the fresh-kill pile.

Meanwhile, in the nursery, Frightenedmouth was lying out stretched, moving uncomfortably. Blueface, the other queen, tried to scrunch up against the wall to make Frightenedmouth have more room. But she will still squirming. Blueface moved even closer to the wall, and Frightenedmouth was still squirming. "For StarClan's sake, what is wrong?" Blueface screamed.

Frightenedmouth didn't answer.

"Can you talk? Or do you just stay like that forever?" Blueface asked.

Frightenedmouth nodded. She grabbed a piece of paper out of nowhere and began writing on it with a pencil. She held it up to Blueface's face. I can't talk. My mouth permanently became open in shock after an incident.

"What incident?" Blueface asked.

Frightenedmouth wrote down some more words. Back when I was a kit and Laughingmouth was an apprentice, his laugh was much more frightening. Once, I peeked outside the nursery and saw Laughingpaw laughing so hard, and so loud, and so hillariously, that my mouth became open in shock. Forever.

"That's...harsh," Blueface answered, not knowing what else to say.

Frightenedmouth nodded. "Why are you squirming anyway?" Blueface asked.

Nervousness, Frightenedmouth wrote. I'm at last having Laughingmouth's kits, and I don't really know what to name them. I'm thinking one might be named Discokit. And the pressure of having kits is on me. Oh, and by the way, who's your mate?

"Well...you see..." Blueface dropped her voice to a whisper and moved closer to Frightenedmouth. "I don't have a mate. I pretended I was having kits, because I had just bought a Nintendo DSi from Mernards, and I know Bananastar doesn't allow them. The nursery is the perfect place to hide. So I hid in here, and nobody has ever noticed it. Want to play?" Blueface handed out a white Nintendo DSi.

Frightenedmouth nodded. She opened up the Nintendo DSi and suddenly, words and pictures flashed onto the screen. A wild Chimchar appeared!

"Oh, oh, sorry, I was playing this game," Blueface stammered. She grabbed the DSi and slid out the game cartridge, placing My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic in there instead. "This might be more plausible."

Frightenedmouth shook her head. No. No. It's okay. I like Pokemon.

Blueface smiled. "Oh. All right. Frightenedmouth, I look forward to seeing your kits when they're born."

Frightenedmouth smiled too. Blueface couldn't guess what she was thinking, but it must have been something happy.