Ah, happy Mother's Day people. Though I highly doubt any mothers are reading this, remember to do something nice for your own mother today! I faced the melons to make Fruit Salad for my mother. I massacred those poor melons...
REVIEWS
"Silverflame888"- I know... all along I knew she was going to die!
"Shadowhawk540-2"- It would be great, wouldn't it? If Scorch got to battle the bad guys with her awesome mother?
"Maplebreeze of MoutainClan"- She was a great character, wasn't she? And I say Pinefur is half-beaten since they didn't take back the WindClan camp, they evacuated it. And that's a good idea, I need to update the allegiances now, I'll do it after I get a few things settled.
"Willowdream of ForestClan"- We can hope!
Guest- Thank you very much! He really is just there for plot convenience...
Jordan- Haha, you know me all too well ^^ Yeah, that's why I didn't feel too bad about killing her. What was most important to her was already dead while other cats have really big goals to complete first.
"Trason"- Yeah, it gave it a bittersweet feeling. I honestly don't know how much longer it'll be, I hammered it all out late last night but I mostly forgot but we're drawing to the close of this story. But there's still one more in the trilogy!
Cat1234- I wish I could have delved into them more and really found what they wanted. Well, even a writer can't always end it on a cliffhanger! You have a good feeling for when it's time to return to mini plots, I like that ^^
Reader- Thanks! And I'll finish this book and continue on to the third book of the trilogy (so, a sequel) We're not near done with Legacy yet!
Eaglefeather- Haha! Only you would think of it that way ;) Oh, come now! I'm not quite that evil, am I?
Chapter 49: Abience
Scorch awoke, her nose twitching as she noticed the sweet smell wafting just in front of her closed eye-lids. Giving a little grumble, she stretched her ebony green eyes open and blinked against the dauntingly bright sunlight. For a moment, she didn't move. It felt so good, the warmth slowly soaking into her water-clogged fur as she lay upon the fresh grass- the dew just disappearing from the green stalks and leaving them with a sweet scent.
But the source of the delicious scent- a mouse- compelled her to roll from her curled position to her paws and tuck into the meal. As she munched the mouse meat, she looked around, discombobulated by the strange surroundings.
Green pine trees loomed around the glade, spiking up darkly against a clear blue sky. The sun was hazy and hung upon the top throws of the pine trees with no clouds were in sight. A tall, sweet-smelling juniper bush stood protectively behind her and a small spring bubbled peaceful and blue by a mound of damp and freshly churned dirt.
At the sight of it, Scorch could feel the chilly breeze and the shadows that crept from the pines were upon her vision as she stared at the grave. Scorch pushed the half-eaten mouse away from her, it didn't smell so sweet anymore. The mouse blood and bones sickened her.
"Oh! You're awake," a voice called cheerfully. Scorch turned her head slowly as Boulderpaw padded up the sparkling green slope, holding a starling by the wing an he waved his tail happily. She dipped her head slowly in response to his greeting, words sticking in her throat.
Boulderpaw's blue eyes glanced at her half-eaten meal anxiously, "Are you sure you're not hungrier?"
Scorch nodded again, turning to look at the grave. She stared, despondent, while Boulderpaw ate the starling in silence. Her thoughts ran over and over all her memories with Painted.
The meeting when Painted pulled her from the ocean, the travels as she bounced along the sandy shore while Painted snapped at her to quit wasting energy. The sadness in Painted's gaze when they stopped at her family's' graves, the arguments over helping the Clans; emotions of anger, frustration, happiness, silent tensions, and then relief that had sparked between them so often. But Painted had always been there, had always come back for her. Scorch felt little and tremulously vulnerable without Painted's watchful green gaze on her.
"Come on," Boulderpaw shook her from her thoughts, "We need to get back to camp," he mewed, "This place isn't doing you any good."
Scorch felt a flash of anger, "I don't need it to do me any good! I don't want to leave Painted," she hissed, swiping at Boulderpaw with unsheathed claws. He ducked out of range but his blue eyes were no longer gentle, they were sharp as flint.
"You can't sit here and mourn until you're half dead. Pull yourself together. Every cat has to go through sadness at one time or another. Death is a part of life, that's just how it is. Learn to deal with it and move on," Boulderpaw growled, looming over her.
Scorch ignored him and looked away. In her heart, she knew he was right. She had things to do and cats to help. But her fervor was lost in her grief, the reasons why she had fought for so long against the wishes of her friends were lost in her misery, she couldn't even recall the reasons she'd given Painted for helping the Clans. All she wanted was to sit here in peace and be lost in her thoughts.
Tears welled up again as she was pulled between what she wanted and what she knew she had to complete. Blinking, she felt herself whirled away into a torrent of water. Silvery light glimmered above her and rushed besides her as she choked on the water that filled her lungs. The panic and shock paralyzed her.
Splashing above the surface, she saw herself lost in sea of stormy water with nothing but grayness around her. The salty taste was familiar and so were the choppy waves that swept her up and below in a heartbeat. This was the ocean; the ocean she had once lived beside, the one that had stolen her away from her family and led her into the mess she was now in. But what was she doing in it?
Scorch tumbled down again under the waves, twirling and spinning in the savage current that tore her in every direction. Thrust above the surface, she saw the sky, blue and clear. Yet, not so blue. The color was drained, the sun looked like it was veiled in shadow and the sky as well. Is this a mirage? But there were no cats, were there? Blackness enveloped her for a moment and when it faded she was staring at her trembling paws, standing on sold green ground.
But the salty taste remained. Scorch licked her muzzle and tasted tears. Had the salt of her tears invoked such an intense mirage? It was as when she'd been transported to the underground tunnels with no cats there as well, except the ocean was much further away.
Fresh fear danced on her tongue, sweeping away grief for a moment. Scorch jerked her head up at Boulderpaw, he was still staring at her angrily. I need to see Time. The old black tom had warned her before of her powers increasing quickly and becoming unstable, was it already happening?
She turned away from the grave and swept past the gray apprentice, trotting down the glade. "Time to go," she mewed. Her heart longed to stay in this quietly mournful place, but she kept her green gaze firmly fixed on the trail of pine needles leading deeper into the forest. She was doing neither what she wanted nor required to do, but what needed to be done.
Boulderpaw didn't question her sudden change of mind, but followed a tail-length behind her in perplexed silence. Birds chirped in the distance, gleeful at the end of the cold season. The snow had melted, only a few clumps of dirty snow laid at the base of trees in the deepest shadows. The breeze rustled the canopy of pine branches against each other but no light made it to the pine floor.
The camp sat soundly in its hollow, an intrigued murmur coming from it. Scorch pricked her ears, was something going on? She padded past a rotten black log with brown ivy clinging to it and padded trough the thorn tunnel. The cats in the clearing were standing proudly in a circle around Flashpaw. The black she-cat was looking up happily at Sunstar who stood in front of her.
"Flashpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior-code and to protect and defend your Clan even at the cost of your life?"
Flashpaw stared at Sunstar with shining gray eyes that matched the pale cobwebs covering her black pelt. "I do."
Sunstar looked up at the sky, the sunlight pouring down to illuminate the two, "Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Flashpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Flashstrike. StarClan honors your optimism and courage, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan."
"Flashstrike! Flashstrike! Flashstrike!" The cats cheered, shouting the new name at the top of their lungs to the sky- the pines seemed to shake from the force of the heralded warrior. Flashstrike looked around the shadowy camp with eyes full of pride. Boulderpaw purred at Scorch's side and pushed past her, heading to congratulate his friend. Scorch watched him, angry at herself for not being able to be happy for her friend, only misty sadness wreathed around her.
All she could see was Mira and Jump standing by the nursery. At this point, they must know Painted was dead, or at least that she was unaccounted for. Scorch felt sick, so sick she almost gagged and had to stare up at the sky to keep herself from doing so.
"It's okay," a warm breath stirred her ear fur. "They already know," Raven's soft voice was achingly reminiscent of Painted's.
"Did you know?" Scorch asked hoarsely.
"Yes, I saw her, she was alive when Pinefur's forces forced us to the camp and left her in the battlefield. But I knew there was nothing to be done for her. And when I saw you in the den, that terribly dead look in your eyes, I knew that she was dead," Raven sighed softly, pressing her side against hers.
Scorch felt tears well up in her eyes again as heat constrained her. Would she cry every day of her life? "Tears aren't like you, I don't think I've ever seen you cry before," Raven hushed her mumbling sobs as the black and red she-cat pressed her face into the sleek black fur.
"I only cry," she blubbered, "When it's over."
"Hush now, it is over. So dry your eyes and start again," Mira's voice now sounded above her, gentle and sympathetic but with a strain of loss that pricked at Scorch's heart guiltily. She couldn't remain there, she was about to crumple up beneath herself from the grief.
The black and red kit tore away from them and headed blindly out of the camp. She couldn't go back. She didn't want comfort and consolation. Couldn't she grieve in peace? Was it wrong to be sad? Was it all so terribly awful? Scorch stopped and looked at the mottled brown ground, it was awful to be alone in grief. She just needed to be around cats that would be able to understand her silence and at the same time not indulge her in it.
"Scorch!" she quickly glanced over her shoulder and saw Boulderpaw racing toward her. She kept walking.
He slowed down at her side and panted heavily, his paws thumping tiredly against the pine covered floor. "What do you want?" Scorch asked after a few moments of silence. Her voice was steady, but she felt as shaky as a leaf.
"Where are you going, Scorch?" Boulderpaw asked, lifting up his head. She avoided his gaze, walking faster in front of him.
"None of your business," she snapped as he hurried after her. Scorch could feel her heart desperately clawing at her chest to be let out but she wouldn't collapse in front of him again.
"It is!" Boulderpaw snapped back, "There are things that need to be settled back at the ThunderClan camp. While Pinefur is still in WindClan's territory, we need to drive him out before he can retaliate."
Scorch felt her fur prickle, it was still so dirty from yesterday. "Why do I have to take care of that? The Clans are full of cats much more experienced than me!" She stopped and turned to face Boulderpaw. "Can't I just be given peace for a moon?" she pleaded.
Boulderpaw stared at her with hard eyes, "Why should you?" he snarled, "No Clan cat got a moon to mope around when our friends and families were killed. The best thing is to keep yourself busy and allow the cats that want to help, help you!"
Scorch turned away, "I would if I could, but I can't," she mewed, her voice scratched in her throat. "I have something else to do now or there will be no help for me," she mewed, moving forward toward the rogue border.
Boulderpaw stopped following her. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going away, don't look for me," she shouted.
Scorch hurried, lest Boulderpaw would quit hesitating and chase after her. She ducked through a mushroom patch and climbed carefully over a rotting log. Boulderpaw had been hidden from sight behind her when she heard his call, "I'll be waiting for you in ThunderClan!"
…...
Dusk was approaching when Scorch paused at the top of a high knoll. She was far beyond the ShadowClan border, not in a place she had ever been to before. She'd felt the need for something entirely new and had found a tall, lonesome hill, barren of anything but crumbling dirt and sparse old grass being penetrated by a few bright new shoots.
The pines encircled the land but the hill rose above the tallest peaks- it was the tallest point of land in the surrounding area with the exception of the hill where the Moonpool dwelled. At the top she could sit, the sun's dying rays on her back, and look out at the forest of shadows. The lake a sparkling silver-blue pool among the cluster of trees.
The tops of the pines were turned crimson in the dusk light. The sky a deep red and mystic purple. But the red reminded her of Painted covered in blood. And that was not all, she was swept from one moment in time to another so suddenly that she couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening. All she was certain of was the terrible taste of blood and the misty red that glazed over her eyes as she sat immobile on the crest of the hill. The shrieks were haunting as well.
"Steady yourself, little one," a rough voice cut through her delusions and when she blinked the only red she saw was the rust in the dirt that she stood upon and her one scarlet paw. Oh, how much loathing Scorch suddenly found for that one red paw- red was suck an ugly color and she now detested it.
"Time?" Scorch was aware of the speaker of the voice, distracting her from her disgust. The black tom stood beside her, his body a cloud of black smoke and shadow.
The tom nodded, his red eyes glowed and Scorch couldn't meet his gaze. "I see you finally came," Time mewed after a moment, circling around her.
"Yes."
"Are you ready for us to train?" He stood behind her, she could feel him staring at her neck but she couldn't turn to meet his gaze.
"I am."
"You're lying," he hissed angrily, opening his black mouth in distaste.
Cold shock bristled through her, "I'm not lying!" she hissed, hotly. After all, he was the one who had asked her to meet him!
"Yes, you are. I asked you to come when you could give me your full attention," Time mewed steadily. "You only came now because you needed a distraction, not because you were willing to focus on this task."
"What's the difference?" Scorch scowled, staring at the ground that she scraped at like dust with her paw.
"The difference is the focus. You are focused on distracting yourself. Thus, you will work quickly and vigorously. But this is not a menial task I'm going to put you to, this is something you are going to need to envelope into your very soul if you don't want to waste what short time you have," Time's growl sent shivers down her spine.
"Am I going to die soon?" her voice was a tiny squeak, isn't that what was meant by 'short-time?' or did she not have much longer before she went insane? The way her mirages popped up had gotten worse exponentially.
"No," a laughing purr eliminated her worries and for the first time in days she experienced something besides grief. Scorch turned to see Sonya standing beside Time, her white and ginger fur glowing like the moon and sun. "But to Time, every cat's life is short, there's no room for hesitating in life," the she-cat purred.
Her friend's bright green eyes calmed her, they promised safety and warmth. "Sonya..." Scorch felt tears well up again, in the face of such comfort she couldn't silence the emotions surging under her pelt. "Sonya!"
The white and ginger she-cat curled around her comfortingly, Scorch's face safely hidden in the pelt as her shoulders heaved and sobs erupted. Collapsing to the ground, Sonya gently stroked her spine with her paw like a mother would for a troubled kit.
"It's not fair!" Scorch sobbed, "I didn't want Painted to die, I needed her! She did so much for me- a stranger- I wanted to do something for her but all I did- all I did was lead her to her death!" She screamed into Sonya's fur. It was so frustrating and horrible; she'd never even had the chance to thank Painted.
"Calm down now," Time's mew rumbled gently. "You know Painted didn't blame you at all."
"I know," Scorch flattened her ears, "I know that! But I still feel it like a heavy shadow over me. Had I never met her, she wouldn't have died this way."
"But then she wouldn't have been able to live this way, Scorch," Sonya murmured in her ear. "Because she met you she got to go on an adventure, she was able to reconcile herself to the Clans' injustice, and make peace with Raven. And now she will live on in your heart as long as you remember her, she will live on in the hearts of all those that met her. Is that not a better fate then just disappearing one day on a soundless shore?"
Scorch sniffed, blinking the tears from her eyes and resting her chin on Sonya's flank as she stared off into the pine tops. "Maybe, but is it the fate she wanted?" She didn't know, for all her time that she'd spent with Painted, she had never been able to penetrate deep into the spotted she-cat's wants and desires.
"Did she say otherwise?" Sonya asked. Scorch shook her head. "Then honor her by showing her that you can live like she wished you to. Show her that you can remain compassionate and gentle in the face of death- show her that you can do what she could not."
What she could not. Scorch knew one thing, Painted had changed after the death of her family and the spotted cat had always silently hated herself for being unable to defeat the grief in her heart. Scorch could not allow herself to tread upon that road of misery.
"Besides, Painted was not a young cat," Time mewed, "Her time in this world was completed, there was nothing more she could gain- I can tell you that much, so don't be too sad for her sake." The black tom stretched. As Scorch had cried and Sonya had comforted her, dusk had come to an end, the last edge of the sun sinking beyond the horizon.
Scorch watched it silently, "Everything has an end, I guess."
"Yes," Time nodded his head, "That is true, everything has an end. But when one cat's life and dreams end, another one begins. Whose to say that this sunset is every cats sunset? It could very well be the dawn to someone else. Just be careful that you don't get lost in the twilight."
…
Scorch stumbled over a root of a tree, hissing as it twisted her paw. Black, unbroken shadows blanketed everything and she couldn't make out a single thing in the darkness. The moon's light was sliced by countless tree branches and never quite made it to the forest floor, remaining twisted and bent up above her head.
"We'll meet you back here tomorrow at sun-high. Right now, you need to get some sleep and calm your mind." That was what Time had told her when she'd left the knoll. Scorch just wished she had remembered to ask if they could meet closer to Clan territory, it had taken her half the night to get this far.
And there was a certain Clan she needed to live in for the time being. The scent of damp wood permeated the air and mingled with the pale tinge of new growth. The ground was cold beneath her paws and moist enough to mold her pawprints in the ground. It was soothing to her.
In fact, the whole world seemed soothing; from the silly shadows to the clamorous breeze. Scorch had cried her last tears in the mourning of Painted and now that she was empty, the night comforts found refuge in her hollow heart. She cradled close to her heart the hoot of an owl and the faint flowery scent that wafted around her along the path.
ThunderClan's forest was lovely after the rain and storm. The blackness cloaked her and carried her safely- if not clumsily- toward the camp. With a shock of surprise, Scorch realized that this would be her first time approaching the camp from the main trail. Pleasure glimmered in her chest that she had helped with this change, sorrowed only a little by Painted's sacrifice for that change.
Scorch walked confidently along the leaf-track, the barrier rising up dark before her with a small opening glowing silver from the moonlight beyond. A flash of black overhead caught her attention and she stiffened, her heart bouncing. Was it Amelia? The villainous she-cat had not been abandoned in Scorch's thoughts during the misery of Painted's demise.
But it was only a bat, its waxy wings flapping itself higher and higher, spinning between the tangle of tree branches until it reached the sky beyond. Scorch sighed and let her shoulders slump as the tension dissipated.
Looking back to the track in front of her, she felt a strong pulse run through her and what little color there was in the black night drained as she entered the world of her mirages.
The trail was the same, or maybe a little more overgrown. It was dark, blacker shadows drowning her vision. A trail of glowing white sticks littered the ground in front of her. They smelled vile and Scorch curled her lips, noticing a faint red staining the strange sticks. Leaning closer in the darkness to get a better look, she gagged as the shape and smell registered that these were not white sticks, they were blood-stained bones. Cat bones.
Did this happen a long time ago? Scorch could not pry her gaze away from the bones, morbid fascination gripping her tightly. A low growl rumbled around her, like a rumble of thunder- thunder filled with malice. A quick glance upward revealed a large black and white creature. A wide snout striped with white swung around in the darkness. Twin berry black eyes glowered at nothing.
Fear ripped a shriek from her and she stumbled backwards, heart beating faster than her paws. She stumbled into a bramble bush and felt the thorns catch on her dirty fur. The badger moved closer, its paws crunching the bones beneath it. Could it see her? Horror spun through her, she only knew cats couldn't see her, could other animals in the mirage world see her?
"Scorch!" a call sliced her panic and in an instant the mirage shattered. There was no badger, no trail of bones, no vile stench. But she was caught in a bramble bush, her flank and back right leg deep in the troublesome bush. She turned her muzzle to try to free herself but only scratched it, unable to reach close enough without tearing her face to shreds.
The cat who had called out to her, Boulderpaw it seemed, was in front of her, two warriors stood behind him. "How did you manage to do that?" one of the warriors, a silver tabby she-cat, asked.
"I, err," Scorch felt embarrassment burn her ears and was glad it was so dark. "I don't really know," she mewed. It was true, in her alarm she hadn't noticed a thing at all.
"Well, you're caught pretty well. Can you pull yourself out?" Boulderpaw asked. Scorch clenched her teeth and pulled as hard as she could, her front claws gouging deep into the soft ground. She could feel her fur tearing and managed to free her flank, though even now she could see tufts of red and black on the brown thorns.
"There, now one last pull," the silver tabby mewed, ducking down to bite at the tendril that held her leg. Scorch pulled and hopped out of the bramble bush, free as a bird.
"Thanks," she sighed, feeling embarrassed that her entrance to ThunderClan was marked by something as silly as getting caught in a bramble bush.
"No problem," the last warrior- Scorch thought it was Icewhisker- mewed, turning back to the entrance to the camp.
"Um, Boulderpaw, I can go in, right?" Scorch asked, nervously turning to her friend.
"Of course!" the silver tabby mewed, nudging her along. "We've all heard what you've done for us and we aren't the type to turn a little kit out in the forest on her own so late at night." Scorch was prodded into the camp. As expected of such a late hour, it was deserted. But the sky was magnificently silver and black, pale white light glowing on the dirt-hollowed camp and reflecting off the glimmering gray stone that made a wall to protect the camp, minerals in the stone shining like tiny dewdrops. After so many nights in the pine forest, she had almost forgotten what the night sky looked like.
"Come on, you can sleep in the apprentice's den with me," Boulderpaw mewed as the silver tabby and Icewhisker returned to guard duty, which they evidently had been doing before she arrived.
"Thanks," Scorch dipped her head awkwardly. The last time she'd seen Boulderpaw she hadn't been terribly civil, in that haze of grief and fear she couldn't recall what she had been thinking. And still, she grieved at the thought of Painted, but it was no longer blinding her.
"Did I wake you up?" she wondered as he led her to a bramble screen in front of the cliff, taking her behind it into a cave.
"No," he whispered, "I was still awake. Though your screech probably could have woken the dead,"
he teased.
Scorch huffed, "Did I wake any other cat?" she whispered, aware that there were other cats sleeping in the den.
"Surprisingly, I don't think so. Maybe you did and they just thought it was a mouse or something," Boulderpaw mewed, guiding her to the very back of the moss-floored den. A nest that smelled of him lay there and there was room enough beside it to build another one later.
Scorch curled down by it, grateful for the nice moss floor. "Don't you want to get those thorns out of your fur first?" Boulderpaw asked as she closed her eyes.
"Not really, I want to sleep for now," she mumbled, tucking her nose under her tail.
"Honestly, can you not take care of yourself at all?" Boulderpaw grumbled, but he didn't sound annoyed, instead she got a sweet feeling of relief from him. He was clearly glad that she was taking Painted's death better.
Scorch felt him lapping at her pelt, pulling out the uncomfortably lodged thorns and smoothing out the bunches of matted fur. She purred and felt herself sliding into sleep, grateful that it was with such a soothing and peaceful feeling blanketing her.
…
Silence woke her. It rang in her ears, louder than the deafening waves and stiffer than the moon. Not a breath stirred and as she stretched her eyes open she wasn't where she expected to be. There was no soft moss floor, no Boulderpaw beside her.
She stood on dead grass, warmth filled her but she couldn't feel the golden rays of the sun she knew were on her back. The ground trembled vigorously beneath her and she crouched against it, trying to steady herself. But it was no longer there, it was sliding away and she slid down with it, a silent cry erupting as her mouth was filled with tasteless dirt. Scorch reached upwards desperately toward the round hollow sun that shone in the hole above her head as dirt fell down all around her. She reached up and saw a black and brown paw grasp for it desperately and then darkness caved in, snuffing out the light and the warmth.
Scorch bolted upright in a dim-lit den, her flanks heaving and her tongue lapping at her muzzle. It was just a dream, just a dream. But it had seemed so real! Almost like a mirage, but while she was sleeping? Scorch shook her head, she needed to work with Time so that this would stop. She didn't know how many days she could take this, constantly being thrown into another cat's terror.
Lifting up a paw and licking it, she drew it over her ear comfortingly. Scorch glanced at her fur, although ruffled by her thrashing sleep, it was cleaner than it had been for days. A small pile of thorns and mud scraps were tucked in the corner by Boulderpaw's nest. She purred, had he groomed her fur so well for her?
Better not let his work go to waste, with a few quick licks she smoothed her unruly pelt and flicked the pieces of moss from her pelt. Looking around the den, hazy morning light lit the den in a few rays of the deepest golden light- but all the nests were empty.
Her paws pricked, should she have gotten up earlier? Painted would yell at her if- grief turned the thought cold. Never again would Painted reproach her kit-like tendencies. Or maybe she still does lecture me in the stars and I just can't hear it, Scorch forced a purr, determined not to let sadness swallow her whole again.
Her ears pricked as throaty and guttural sounds emanated from outside the den. Standing up, she sensed intense turmoil and barely tapped anger. Scorch frowned, hurrying across the moss floor and out of the den, what was there to be angry about so early in the morning?
Shadows still clung to the edges of the clearing and the sun had yet to clear the tree tops, but the clearing was full of bristling cats. Scorch looked around, wondering if she should get involved. This wasn't the ShadowClan camp, she didn't have the reputation here to be of any authority.
She spotted Boulderpaw standing nearby with Moonpaw, the littermates had equally grim expressions in their eyes as they watched the source of the conflict. Is that Wing? Scorch stood on her hind legs to get a better look at the fighting cats.
Sure enough, the small black she-cat was hissing in the face of a familiar looking delicately gray she-cat with lighter features. Wispheart, Scorch recognized the mind behind the genius attack that had led to failure. But what were they arguing about? Scorch couldn't understand anything from the wild insults they hurled at each other, both backed by their friends that gathered around them in support.
Scorch started to creep over toward Boulderpaw. "Scorch!" she flinched at Wing's angry yowl. Cats turned to look at her and she flicked her ears, uneasy under their gazes that were fired up by the fight.
A gap parted so that she had a clear path to Wing and Wispheart; she walked towards them hesitantly. She didn't know what was going on or what to do. And she was still mentally exhausted from the past few days- there was no way she could come up with a magic solution to a horrible problem right now.
"Go on," Wing nodded at her as she paused in front of the two bickering she-cats. "Tell that idiot what you told me," Wing mewed, jerking her head at the ThunderClan warrior.
Wispheart growled, "Watch your tongue, rogue."
"Oh yeah? How about this?" Wing taunted, cuffing Wispheart's ears. The gray she-cat growled again, her eyes flashing and she stepped out of Wing's reach. Between the two, Scorch estimated that Wispheart was showing the most restraint.
"What is this about?" Scorch asked, unable to keep a sigh out of her voice. It seemed to her completely ridiculous that she was sorting out a fight between two grown cats when they considered her to be the kit. Had they no sense of shame?
"They want us to leave," Wing growled, brown eyes flashing angrily.
"You are welcome to remain for a little while, but you cannot join the Clans!" Wispheart argued.
Scorch flicked her tail and sat down, "I thought you said, Wing, that you would leave when the weather is warmer?"
Wing nodded, "I will."
Wispheart's blue eyes flashed with shock, "Then what are you fighting about?! That's exactly what I offered you!" the she-cat screeched, incredulous.
Wing met the warrior's astounded expression, "I will leave, but some of my friends want to stay and join the Clans."
Scorch nodded, "Which ones?" she asked, already guessing.
"Rita, Soot, Jack, and of course, Shade," Wing snorted. The ones who wanted to join ShadowClan.
Scorch stood up, flicking her black and red tail and looked at Wispheart. "There are only four cats, can you not take them in?"
Wispheart stepped back, "I don't have the authority," the gray cat murmured, dropping her gaze.
"Well, I say no!" a cat yowled, stomping forward. It was a young ginger tom with glaring green eyes, "They were part of Nightwing's Clan once, and he was just as bad as Pinefur! I don't want murderers in ThunderClan!"
"Flamepaw!" Wispheart snapped, "This is a matter for warriors."
Flamepaw? Scorch stiffened, the cat that had killed Leafpaw. She glanced at Boulderpaw quickly, he had defended his friend firmly against her distrustful feelings, what would he do now? Boulderpaw didn't move, his gaze fixed firmly on the ginger tom.
"That cat isn't a warrior!" Flamepaw argued, flicking his tail at her contemptuously.
Scorch puffed her chest angrily. "Scorch had a intimate part in this, so it is natural for her to be involved," Wispheart argued back and Wing nodded. Flamepaw scowled and slipped back into the crowd, replaced by a larger ginger tom with green eyes.
"Sunstorm," Wispheart dipped her head respectively. Scorch dipped her head quickly, he was the oldest cat in ThunderClan at the moment and thus, most powerful.
The ginger tom surveyed the four black cats, "I think, just this once, because of our low numbers, we can make an exception and allow these cats into the Clans. They have already proven they can be loyal by fighting with us. But it will not be easy," he warned the black cats who were starting to look excited. "You will have to work long and hard to gain the trust and respect of your Clan-mates."
Soot nodded, "We are willing to put everything we have into this." Scorch purred as pelts smoothed around her, that had settled the problem quickly.
Sunstorm nodded, "Then, while we're all here, we may as well have another discussion."
Scorch tensed, weren't they done? The sun was still hanging amidst the trees, the air only beginning to warm. What else could possibly be a problem now?
"We need to decide when WindClan will leave our camp," Sunstorm growled, his green eyes flashing suspiciously at the WindClan cats huddled together by the entrance. They looked nervous and out of place, glancing up at every creak and rustle.
Scorch flicked her ears, "I imagine they will leave as soon as they can. So, when Pinefur is driven for good from their territory."
"Then I think they ought to get to it," Icewhisker growled, the light gray tom twitched his whiskers disdainfully.
Scorch looked at him, alarmed. "They can't do it by themselves!"
"It's their territory, their problem," Icewhisker shrugged.
Were they all mouse-brained? Scorch lashed her tail, "You have to work together!" she spat.
"Why should we?" Wispheart asked, her blue eyes looking over the WindClan cats indifferently. "Are they simply incapable of doing it themselves?"
Cavepath stepped forward from the WindClan cats, his fur bristling, "We never asked for your help," the tom growled.
What were they bickering about? Scorch couldn't understand it, ShadowClan and RiverClan had worked together much better than this! Was she missing something? She looked around the sea of feline faces, but she couldn't sense anything but common distrust. There was no specific emotion working here expect dislike.
Scorch lashed her tail, "You have to work together, you may even need ShadowClan and RiverClan's help," she snapped.
"No, we can take care of this on our own," Cavepath growled stubbornly.
"Then go ahead!" Sunstorm answered with a lash of his tail.
"If you two mouse-brains can think logically for a moment," Scorch growled through clenched teeth, "Pinefur had enough cats to occupy both of your camps and you didn't kill a single one of his cats in the last fight. So he has the same number as he had when he conquered you. Only with outside help and all your forces were you able to win. Why would that suddenly change?"
Her words silenced every cat and she had that satisfaction. A few moments later, though, she realized it wasn't a thoughtful silence but a brooding silence. They weren't taking her advice very well. Scorch took a shaky step back, feeling their annoyance directed at her like a large rock looming over her, waiting to fall.
"Thanks," Sunstorm growled curtly, "But we can take care of this matter without your help."
Scorch just dipped her head and slipped shakily back into the crowd, wishing they didn't move away from her. Did I get too involved? Did I let my tone get accusing or sarcastic? She agonized over what she did wrong as she approached Boulderpaw. The gray apprentice nudged her encouragingly, but his blue eyes were apathetic- he didn't sense the vexing feelings like she did. He didn't sense the suspicion like she did.
...
Uh oh. Scorch isn't giving off a great impression! But, since she's grieving and going crazy, she's not quite at the top of her game... I don't have a good feel for this chapter since I've had a crazy week. My thoughts and emotions were all over the place with life so this may not be my best work... And I still have two more weeks of school left! Not looking forward to all those tests.
Oh well, Please Review anyways!
