Hiya peoples! It's been another week, which means its time for the next chapter! :D
OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH! When I posted least week's chapter and got not one, but FOUR WHOLE REVIEWS only a few hours after it went up, I was SOOOOOO HAPPYY! SQUEEEEEEEEEEE! It's been so long since I've had that many reviews! And now that the entire week is passed, I've got even more! SQUEEEE! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!
Dewmist: Only time will tell...
Sunlight: Yahhh... Their lives suckkkkk! XD
Nninja XD Well, if I were to tell you that then I'd spoil a huge backstory that I may or may not include... And do not worry, she will show some more awesome when her time to shine comes!
Airstream: Thanks! And yeah, I feel bad for Sparrowpaw, too. I was tearing up a bit as I wrote that chapter...
Ye'oldmuffins: Thanks! I tried my best to be original! How'd you read it all in one day? XDD
Flamingsnowangel: Yay! I'm glad you found it, too! It's always great to see more readers and reviewers!
Storm of Golden Fire: XD Calm yo self, Stormie! You'll survive!
And NOWWWWW for the next chapter! (It's kinda a filler, but what the heck! XP)
Chapter 36: Goldenfur
Goldenfur couldn't sleep that night. Seeing Sparrowpaw like that… it was just so… jarring. No matter how hard he tried to shake it off and think about something else, the experience haunted the back of his mind like a particularly large tick. Worrying wouldn't help Sparrow; action was what needed to be taken. What action, he didn't know. But his paws were aching to be on the move despite this.
Quietly, the golden tom rose from his position laying away from the other toms in the Fighter's den and tiptoed out the exit. As he passed Death's slumbering head, he was tempted to plant his back paw firmly into the traitor's eye, but he restrained himself halfway through the motion. He didn't need that fox-hearted pile of crow-food to follow him and get him in trouble.
Emerging into the twilight dimness of the cave, Goldenfur took four long strides away from the Fighters' den before breathing in a deep breath.
The trailing mists of the waterfall daintily touched his whiskers, illuminated by the full moon hanging above, its torrents brightening and darkening in a pulsating picture of serenity. Closing his eyes, listening to its steady rhythm, Goldenfur felt almost at ease. This place did hold some beauty to it, after all. Maybe, just maybe, he could purge it of the heinous blotches of blackness that tainted its borderline grace.
"Well, well, well. Now who do we have here?"
Goldenfur flattened his ears and clenched his teeth at the sound of the other tom's voice, thinking: or maybe not.
He offered no response, didn't delight them with the pleasure of seeing him grovel and beg, and instead mutely turned around with a fire in his eyes.
"That's who I thought," the prowler crooned, his dark amber eyes glinting.
"Death. Balsam," Goldenfur simply stated, flicking his ear at the black tabby who had first spoken. He kept his composure smooth and unruffled, as if there was no contest of hierarchy or superiority present.
The third-in-command glared at him with his freezing green eyes and spat, his back arching. "You know the rules, Gilt." He hissed the name as an insult, as if he was dirt. "No one is allowed out of the dens at night." Then, he smiled wickedly, lifting a paw and unsheathing its claws. "You know the punishment for breaking the law."
Goldenfur lifted his head proudly, daring the larger tom to go at him. "Then you would be breaking the rules, too, eagle-scat." He countered the Fighter's enraged glare with a smug grin. "I wouldn't be so quick to pull those out."
Death, at Balsam's side, laughed scornfully. "Mouse-brained fool! We came out here to apprehend you! We will be rewarded, while you will be…" He paused ominously, boring those murderous eyes into him before baring his canines in a fake smile. "Extremely castigated."
Goldenfur, now knowing what this hypocrite had let happen to Sparrow, just laughed harshly, throwing his head back. Big words like that didn't scare him, especially since he didn't care to take the time to know what they meant.
"What!" Balsam yowled, flinching backwards at his startling reaction. "What's so funny?!"
"Ha!" the golden tom spat, throwing his head back down to normal level. "You and your half-brained schemes is what! You walk around like you're better than everyone else, like you own this place." He knew he should stop, that this would only end in bloodshed, that he was being irrational, but his fury was undeniable now. With a splitting yowl, he raised his voice and took a menacing step towards them. "You think that you could best me? You think that you run this joint? You think that you run my life? You think that you can make up whatever rules you want whenever you feel like it? Well guess what, snake-heart!? YOU DON'T OWN THIS PLACE!"
With a battle cry, Goldenfur flung himself at Balsam and buried his teeth in the other cat's neck, catching the black tabby off guard and slamming him into the stone below. The instant after his mouth filled with blood, he was kicked off with powerful hind legs. Landing on his paws several tail-lengths away, he growled and began circling the other tom. Balsam got to his paws and did the same, their stalking circles growing tighter and tighter as they hissed and spat at one another.
A chorus of resounding yowls and calls joined their cacophony, and Goldenfur cast a quick glance to his side to see the rest of Bloodclan—awakened by the sound of their ear-splitting rancor—beginning to form a death circle around them. He'd accidentally started a match. Great.
Well, the brown-striped tom thought, partially coming to his senses, there's no turning back now. And then he lunged at the spot just behind Balsam's forelegs with an upward twisting motion, using an under-pawed move that he'd learned in the Fighter's training.
Too late, the arrogant opponent realized that his enemy had enacted one of the hardest battling moves, and he was caught in a flying backflip, the wind knocked out of him. Goldenfur watched as he fell, prone and weakly coughing up blood. His heart had just been momentarily stopped, and the black tabby's eyes were wide with the recognition of it.
Goldenfur slowly walked over to him, placing his clawed paws with resounding clicks as the cave went silent, and set a single paw on his shoulder in triumph. With the eyes of everyone on him, he leaned down and whispered into Balsam's ear. "You'll get worse if you ever mess with me again."
Then, kicking him sharply away, the former warrior raised his head and stared challengingly at the other Bloodclan rats, daring them to do anything.
A deliberate, deep rhythm of two stomping paws brought Goldenfur's attention to his right, his lip curling and back arching defensively.
"Well done, Gilt," Blood—of all the cats in this Starclan-forsaken clowder, it just had to be him!—appraised slyly, a fanged grin plastered on his features. "It appears that you have finally proved yourself." He cast a glance towards Death, and the brother nodded, also smirking. "Outsmarting my third-in-command is no trivial matter." Then, with a pause, he snarled down at the black tom. "Get up you fool!"
Goldenfur almost flinched—almost. He also nearly defended the other tom because of his already-weakened state, but some instinct kept Goldenfur quiet. Blood had begun to show some, although menial, trust in him; he couldn't spoil this now.
Blood waited for Balsam to drag himself to his feet and slink away in shame before turning back to him. "As I said, you have shown us your worth by defending my rule and putting down a Fighter much higher in rank than you. I believe that you are ready to receive a token of your membership as a Bloodclan Fighter."
Goldenfur raised a brow, but kept his voice even and without sarcasm. "And what would that be?"
Blood sneered, amusement lighting his eyes. "Why, a Promised, of course. Noire!"
Goldenfur froze as he barked out that dreaded she-cat's name. She was no Fernfoot, but he detested her condescending attitude and treatment of Greyleaf almost as much.
The tortoiseshell came forward, her dark green eyes indifferent. She said nothing.
"In light of this event," Blood continued, "You will be given to Gilt as his Promised, and he will succeed Zindo, Vladimir, and Wolf in rank."
The Hunter nodded, turning a sour gaze to him and accepting her fate, though she clearly felt this to be beneath her.
"Where do you wish for me to be tomorrow, Promised?" she asked him, her voice monotone.
Goldenfur hesitated, not knowing what to do. He'd seen what the other Fighters did with their Promised, and he was in no way planning to do any of that. Of those grotesque beatings and actions, he dreaded most The Tunnel, but based on Noire's stance, he wouldn't have to worry much about that. "Meet me by the waterfall after you have finished your tasks," he eventually said, thinking this to make sense.
She just nodded and waited for his signal for her to leave, which he gave. Eventually. Blood, Death, and the other cats departed soon after.
Standing alone, Goldenfur prayed to the stars: Dear Starclan! What have I just gotten myself into?
So, I'm gonna go ahead and let yall know that Goldenfur and Noire's interactions don't make a debut in the future... so my Question Of The Chapter is this! I want to know what YOU think would happen when the two have to interact with each other alone! I REALLY REALLY REALLY am looking forward to yall's responses on this one!
Bible Passage
"For though I am free from all men, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win the more;
and to the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might win Jews; to those who are under the law, as under the law, that I might win those who are under the law;
to those who are without law, as without law (not being without law toward God, but under law toward Christ), that I might win those who are without law;
to the weak I became as weak, that I might win the weak.
I have become all things to all men, that I might by all means save some."
1 Corinthians 9:19-23