I AM ALIVE GUYS! SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED SINCE, LIKE, FEBRUARY! I HAD MAJOR WRITER'S BLOCK BUT I AM BACK IN THE SWING OF THINGS AGAIN. HOPEFULLY FOR A WHILE, TOO...
dovewingforever22: Congrats about your account! Now you can post stories too :D Okay, I will check out The Rise of Hollystar. Sounds interesting :o
Robinfeather of Stormclan: Check! This chapter is only three pages long in MS Word. This way I can type 'em faster and get 'em rolling out for you guys. Sound good? Hope so ;3
lillystar: Check!
Guest (Briarwing): Checkity- check- check- check! :D
TheCrazyMarshmallowCat: Oh wow, you read my story in April even though it was inactive. Thanks for still being interested in it even though the last update was in the Stone Ages. Here is your "more"!
Three full days remained until Harescar could return to his Clan. His stay at ShadowClan seemed interminable and tedious nevertheless, and the ginger tom shuffled around the marshy camp, homesickness making his paws drag.
This is truly ridiculous, Harescar thought bitterly as he started towards the elders' den again. After all, what else was there to do? After kind of being betrayed by Lionnose and on iffy terms with Larkear (let's just say it involved an irritated Harescar's claw and Pouncekit's tail), Harescar could only seem to get along with Sparrowfoot.
The lonely tabby always had a stock of juicy stories to tell the ginger deputy, and there was nothing impassionate about the way he told them. He expressed each character's voice in a different way- at the moment Harescar's favorite was the one featuring Tigerstar. Since the evil leader's reign had been so long ago (and so short-lived) the details were a bit fuzzy, but somehow Sparrowfoot managed to enrich them with a few thrilling bits and exaggerations here and there. Unless that throne of bones is true, Harescar added to himself with a shudder.
He felt like a kit, being so intrigued by Sparrowfoot's tales of triumphant heroes and furious defeated baddies. It was the same stuff force fed to every little one whenever the play-fighting got old. But, again, there was no other activity Harescar could think of that could pass the time not involving him risking his life.
"Hey, Sparrowfoot," Harescar meowed in a friendly tone as he ducked into the bush. The sweet smell of honeysuckle drifted into his relaxed nostrils as the long branches cushioned him into the dimness.
"'Hey' what?" Sparrowfoot grumbled, rolling over in his nest so he was facing Harescar. His milky green eyes- one faded, which was blind- were narrowed defiantly. "Whatever happened to the classic old 'hello'? Is even that too difficult to say anymore?"
Harescar eyed the tom's pelt, which was ragged and torn with crusty pink scars. One in particular, a crisscross pattern, was etched in Sparrowfoot's skin by his chest and still poked through his fur. How fierce is this cat? "Um… hi?" he squeaked.
"You whippersnapper, don't you even know what a good greeting is?" Sparrowfoot grilled, outraged.
"I'm sorry, I'll stop bothering you now-" Harescar started, but froze in his tracks when he heard a raspy laugh emitting from Sparrowfoot's dried lips.
"Phew, Harescar, you thought I was serious? I was just messin' with you, don't worry your pretty little head."
A dab of irritation tapped the tips of Harescar's fur, making it bristle, but he swiftly lowered it again before Sparrowfoot's good eye could take notice. Cut him some slack. He must be so lonely in here- it's good for him to laugh every once in a while. At least it adds a few more days onto his life I hope.
"So what story will it be today?" Sparrowfoot asked, still half-wheezing, half-chuckling.
"Oh, must I choose?" Harescar sighed, then thought of a good one: a love story about Brokenstar's grandparents, Lionblaze and Cinderheart. Cinderheart had unexpectedly given birth to a second litter just when the pair was thinking of retiring. The result of that batch was Willowberry, Brokenstar's mother, and Spottedpebble, Leopardtooth and Sandpebble's father. Though, of course, Lionblaze and Cinderheart had a long history together before that. "How about Lionblaze and Cinderheart's story? The two mates from ThunderClan?"
Sparrowfoot snorted, startling Harescar as he curled up before the graying male. "If I know any lovey-dovey stories about ThunderClan cats, then you must be a mouse," he croaked, nipping that idea in the bud.
"Fine, then how about one centered around-" Harescar began.
"Oh, I know! I can tell you about dogs. More than once those mangy animals attacked our camp. They're not a threat to us anymore, so don't get any ideas about a weakness for ShadowClan, but heavens, do I have innumerable tales about dogs."
Harescar's stomach twisted. He swallowed back the urge to say, I happen to know a particularly nice dog, so please don't insult the species. But it was true- dogs were not usually friendly towards cats. Brownkit was, most likely, one in a million dogs who liked cats.
"Alright, so the first attack happened when I was a young apprentice," Sparrowfoot rumbled. "Volepaw and I were sharing tongues in the heart of the clearing, when BAM!- two different patrols came crashing in at once, saying they scented dog. Knowing there was a battle ahead, Volepaw and I did our usual defensive preparations- he scurried into the medicine den to gather herbs with his mentor, Mistcloud, while I stood right in front of the camp entrance, hackles raised and teeth bared. Of course, though, I was nudged aside, and everyone was all, 'Oh, Sparrowpaw, you're too young to be right in the front. One day you will be, we promise.' So I ended up being in the back forty, and managed to inflict a grass-blade-sized scratch on the cheek of one dog. I felt like I barely helped, and was pretty down. The next attack happened…"
Harescar grew bored listening, and though he usually was intrigued by Sparrowfoot's stories, this one didn't capture his interest, mostly due to the insult to dogs.
"Hey, Harescar."
"Hm?" The ginger deputy snapped back to attention like a branch cracking from a tree. "Sorry, what did you say?"
Sparrowfoot tilted his head suspiciously. "I said, have you ever dealt with dogs?"
"Uh, no, never," Harescar lied.
The elder stared at him, clearly sensing the ThunderClan cat's fib. But Sparrowfoot said nothing more, and neither did Harescar. Eventually Harescar exited the den, and spent the remainder of his stay with ShadowClan in silence. He could only think about Brokenstar, and Brownkit, and his future.
On the way to the boundary between ThunderClan and ShadowClan three sunrises later, Harescar felt joy fizzing in his paws. Finally he could go back home, after this flea-brained arrangement! He walked, however, as nonchalantly as he could next to Coldstar, who had heat radiating from his dark pelt.
"You should've still had a half-moon to go," the odd leader grumbled, and Harescar only replied in his head: The longer I stay, the longer Dullnight stays in ThunderClan. You really want that?
Finally they arrived at the border just as Brokenstar and Dullnight padded up. Dullnight immediately hopped across without another thought. Harescar stood rigidly, much in contrast to the black-furred deputy.
Coldstar scowled at him. "Go on, Ginger. You were so eager to get back home."
Eventually Harescar stepped back onto ThunderClan's side, immediately relishing the feel of his own territory beneath his paws again.
He and Brokenstar bid their ShadowClan counterparts farewell, and then the pairs started back to their camps.
Harescar didn't speak. Neither did Brokenstar, but he could feel her rising agitation as her prickling coat touched his. When they were about halfway back, she stopped their movement by flicking her plumy tail in front of him. "Okay, what's going on?"
"Nothing," Harescar replied, in the I-said-nothing-but-something-is-wrong tone.
Brokenstar administered The Look to him.
"Okay, fine," he sighed exaggeratedly. "It's just…" Harescar paused for effect. "Why did you let me go there?"
He leaped, bowling over Brokenstar so she was pinned beneath his forepaws on the forest floor. Her yellow eyes were wild as she believed his every word, every spark of fake anger bouncing off his pelt like atoms in a contained space.
"I- I'm sorry!" Brokenstar cried, surprised. "I- I just- you said- you offered to go, and I tried to stop you, but-"
Before she could go on any further, Harescar bent down and touched his nose to hers, then licked her cheek. He stepped aside, allowing her to stand. "I was just messing with you. It wasn't that bad."
Brokenstar recovered right away and growled playfully, nuzzling his ear. "Oh really?"
"Yeah, I bonded with the lone elder, Sparrowfoot."
The brown she-cat snorted. "Isn't he as old as the earth itself?"
"Maybe," Harescar slyly answered. He wrapped his tail over his shoulders and they made their way back to the stone hollow.
As soon as Harescar got back, he was tripped by all the kits. Brownkit sat off to the side, eyes gleaming with happiness but also a hint of curiosity; Frostkit (despite his size), Sparklekit, Orangekit, Furrykit, and Marigoldkit, meanwhile, climbed all over Harescar, squealing and giving him play-nips.
"Hey, those little teeth of yours are getting sharp!" Harescar winced. Furrykit stopped tugging at his ears and giggled.
"It's great to have you back, Harescar," Cherryfur purred, trotting up to him. "Finally a deputy we can trust is back."
Harescar blinked. "Didn't Brokenstar appoint a temporary deputy while I was gone?" His amber gaze trailed to his mate, who had settled down on the sunning rocks to stay out of the fray.
Flashnight shook his head. "Actually, no. She refused. Kind of just sat in her den the whole time. She seemed pretty upset without you."
The ginger tom resisted flexing his claws in front of his Clanmates. Why would she publicly display her longing for me? Others must have picked up on how much she missed my presence, more than she would if I were just her deputy.
Sure enough, he noticed Firetail and Hopepuddle exchanging knowing glances over by the nursery after Flashnight spoke. Great. I wonder who else knows?
Harescar felt a nudge in his flank, and spun to see Beechflight. "Hey, old pal!" he greeted his friend, licking the tabby's shoulder. He lowered his voice and asked solemnly, "How's Birdspring?"
"Recovering. Much better now, actually, if you want to see her," Beechflight informed him. "She's still pretty much bedridden, but she can stand now. And she… she…"
Harescar pricked his ears. "What?"
"She says she might want to try again for kits."
Like I said above, this was just three pages. I found I was able to easily fit all I wanted to in just three pages. I didn't have to take ten! Yay! Now updates will be much more frequent for this story along with WTSGD and CS!