OptimusPrime2017: You'll find out!
Chapter 8:
The sounds of the night echoed through camp, crickets playing their partly annoying songs, the hoot of an owl almost masked by the insects, the dying chirps of birds, and the croaks of frogs.
Ravenpaw slinked silently out of the apprentices den, making sure to tread quietly on the pebble strewn ground.
He glanced for a moment at the sky, still being as silent as possible. The stars twinkled far above him, shimmering like tiny suns. Clouds passed every now and then over the glittering things, yet never damping the light that surrounded the land.
Winds blew across Torrentclans camp, occasionally making pebbles roll. Ravenpaw stalked out of the thorn barrier, trying to shake off the chilled breeze crawling on his back.
He looked around as he exited camp. The scene around him looked different in the murky night, the scarce dark barked trees appeared black, the stones seeming larger.
He smiled, the night calmed him more than the day, the sounds around him where quieter and no blinding light from the sun.
Winds swept across him again, ruffling his fur.
"Ugh," he groaned, pausing to lick his fur flat again. The tom continued on.
Another round of wind ruffled his pelt, making Ravenpaw let out another groan. Quickly licking it again, he padded on. He felt small droplets hit his fur, some of them coming down so fast they stung.
"Rain?" he muttered, looking back up at the sky. The stars were almost entirely covered by looming clouds.
"Fox dung," he snapped to himself, quickening his pace. He tried to duck under any trees he saw, the stinging rain drops still falling hard onto his coat.
"The cliff faces have to be somewhere around here," he meowed. A worried feeling made his stomach churn. The drumming of the rain didn't help him focus.
The formerly familiar territory seemed like a whole new world now, the water droplets coming down faster and faster till they made a sheet of silver, the darkness confusing.
Panic began to set in. His paws started to feel numb, his head whipping around frantically. He couldn't tell which way was which.
The frigid water made the rest of his body go numb. He ran blindly in the storm, hoping that he wouldn't bound off a cliff. The rushing sound of wind filled his ears and the slick ground wet his paws.
"Mouse brain!" he yowled to himself, his voice barely audible in the monstrous rain. He felt his paws suddenly slip, smooth pebbles flying around him as he fell to the earth.
Pebble Path! he thought, an odd feeling of joy spreading through him, like warmth hitting his pelt in Leaf Bare. He got back to his paws, wincing as he put pressure on them. He felt tiny cuts on his pads as they made contact with the muddy floor.
Forcing himself to ignore the pain, he sprinted off in the direction of the Great Torrent. His ears flicked back, any sound drowned out by the pounding rain.
"I should be able to get home once I reach it," he whispered to himself, gritting his teeth.
He tried to sniff the air, searching for the scent of reeds or marsh plants. Nothing but the smell rain greeted him.
"Fox dung," he said again, his chest heaving from so much running, his heart thumping hard. Water suddenly splashed around him, rapids pulling him under the Great Torrents surface.
Ravenpaws claws scraped at the bank, trying to gain a hold on the earth, desperately attempting to keep his head afloat. The river had swelled in the storm, white foamy rapids rushing through the mass of water.
"Help!" he screeched "Help! Help!" His screams were stopped abruptly as he was pulled below the splashing waves. His claws held the river bank tightly, digging into the dirt and gritty stone.
"A-Applepaw!" he cried out as his head bobbed above the surface "Nightpaw, Jasperstep, Hollyberry, help!"
"Ravenpaw?" the voice of Applepaw cried from nearby. Ravenpaw just spotted a glimpse of a ginger paw through the thick sheet of silver rain.
"Oh Starclan Ravenpaw!" his brother yowled, dashing up to the bank "Hold on! I'll get help i-i'll get Snowyglade or something. Just hang on!"
The tabby apprentice looked around in panic. After a few moment's Applepaw bent down, grasping feebly at his brothers scruff. The ginger toms jaws had just made contact with Ravenpaws neck when the brown and black apprentice let out a screech of pain.
At once he was pushed away from the river's edge, blood flowing from one of his paws. The Great Torrents current washed him quickly downstream, his head bouncing up and down, being pulled under the surface before reemerging.
As the form of Applepaw faded into the distance he was pulled firmly under the water. A memory rose from his muddled brain, the dream he'd had. The image of the creamy white she cat drifted into his mind.
"Gust," he meowed, yet the words only came out as bubbles.
Spots of darkness blotted the young toms vision as the torrent pulled him farther, any cries for help turned into bubbles. Blackness consumed him, as inky as the night sky.
…
A tom sat alone in the rain, his pelt plastered to his side. The storm was lightening, the thick, silver coats of water becoming pale, falling stones.
His paws were being splashed with water from the rising river before him, not that it made a difference, his whole body was waterlogged. The sound of rustling from nearby didn't phase him.
A group of four cats slipped out from the close bushes, a snow white, rain sodden she cat leading them. A scarred ginger tom followed close behind. Another tom slinked out of the brushed behind both of them, his dark pelt barely visible in the night. Lastly came a grey, white muzzled she cat, her fur short and prickly, not even affected by the storm.
"Applepaw!" gaped the leading she cat, rushing up to the tom.
"What are you doing out here in this weather?" the third, shadowy cat questioned suspiciously. The tabby didn't answer, his mouth was as dry as a waterless lake.
He opened his muzzle to speak but no words came out.
"Applepaw?" the other, scarred, ginger tom padded up to him, wrapping his own bushy tail around the younger cat. The last cat in the group trotted up to the very edge of the bank, her ears and nose twitching.
"Somethings wrong here," the grey and white she cat snapped, her tone as prickly as her fur "There's blood in the water." At once the group of cats rushed up to where the she cat was standing.
A thin streak of scarlet was flowing from a place in the rivers wall. The black tom fished at the inner bank for a few moments. After the tense seconds the cat's paw came back up from the water.
"A claw," the white she cat gasped. The dark pelted cat shook the claw from out between his paw pads, sniffing at it. Shocked, horrified, recognition registered on the toms face.
"Ravenpaw," the cat breathed, his tail fluffing up and his ears flattening. The ginger tom that stood besides him whipped his head around to face the other feline. At once the older cat leaped for the rapid filled river. The grey she cat yanked his tail, forcing him back onto the bank.
"Don't be foolish Jasperstep!" she snapped "It can't be Ravenpaw's claw!"
"It is," the much younger ginger tom finally spoke, his voice barely a croak of its former self, dry as sand "He got lost in the storm…"
"He's my son!" the furious older cat spat, the toms lips curling back "I must go after him!" The white, senior, she cat placed her tail comfortingly over the other cats shoulders.
"He'll be hunting with Starclan soon if he's not already," the pale female cat meowed "Be thankful that you could be proud of him while he lived."
"What am I going to tell Hollyberry," the grief stricken cat whispered.
"The truth," the other she cat sighed "Tell her that he was washed down the Great Torrent…" After a long, mournful, silence the scarred tom nodded, walking over to the other ginger tabby.
"Come Applepaw," the tom mewed, pressing his forehead against the younger cats own "You did your best, Ravenpaw will know that."