Betcha thought I died, huh? My inspiration's been rather down for the past couple of weeks, but right now it is raining, and I write best when it rains. This chapter isn't the funniest, but I must say I'm rather proud of how Sandstorm came out! Enjoy or eat chocolate cake!
Chapter 4: "That Guy"
Mudpelt paused, his amber eyes building suspense as the three kits looked at him blankly.
"What happens?" Turtlepaw asked in a quavering voice. "What happened at Sunningrocks, Mudpelt?"
"Tell us!" Wolfkit agreed. "Oh, tell us, Mudpelt before our brains burst in anticipation!"
"Well," Saberkit said from his lonely dusty corner, "Tigerclaw, Redstar and Oakheart were all fighting over in RiverClan when this rock-fall started and Oakheart went splat and then Redtail was like, 'I rock and you know it' and Tigerclaw was all like, 'Oh no you didn't!' and then Ravenpaw sat around in the bushes and was going to ask Tigerclaw what he thought of his chance of filling a position as Macbeth when he realized Tigerclaw was busy killing Redtail so he shut up till he accidentally told everyone at a Gathering and then changed it several times so that Firestar could use it to convince Scourge Tigerclaw was sort of bad, and then he did, and then there were three days, big battle, Firestar lost a life, then Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw and Tawnypelt and Stormfur and Crowpaw who became Crowfeather and Feathertail who became dead decided to go off and find a new home for the Clans when suddenly they found Midnight, who was a badger and then returned and went back and Graystripe went missing and Sasha said goodbye."
Saberkit took a really, really, really long breath. "Should I go on?"
They gave him the death glare. "Pfft, your brains could've exploded if it weren't for me," Saberkit said dejectedly. "Last time I ever save you guys."
"Well, that was kind of completely spoiling," Mudpelt mewed. "Anyway, want me to continue?"
"Despite the fact we now know every part of the story, I'm trying to delay Wolfkit's apprentice ceremony, so sure," Rosefoot mewed politely. Wolfkit looked almost like he was going to give back a rather nasty retort when Mudpelt resumed talking.
"Very well then… Because it was not all of the Clan who would hear Ravenpaw's story…"
The Clan waited expectantly for Ravenpaw to begin his story.
"My dearest Bluestar of thy finest line of cats ThunderClan hast ever had thou grace of knowing," he groaned. "My wounds are many and stifling… may thy bringeth me to thou medicine cat, thy benign Spottedleaf?"
Bluestar shrugged. "First tell us what happened!" she snapped impatiently.
"Very well, but only for thy ears, my greatest superior Bluestar," Ravenpaw responded with another pained acting groan as he brought up a black paw and began to whisper in her ear.
"What do you think he saying to her, Graypaw? Uh, Graypaw?" Firepaw mewed as he leaned towards his friend. Empty air met his shoulder as he fell to a thirty degree angle. There was a vacant spot where Graypaw normally sat. Firepaw gulped and realized the kit was pawing Ravenpaw's shiny tail, which was causing Ravenpaw to constantly wince and groan as he recalled what had happened that day to his leader.
Spottedleaf walked over and gave a dainty sniff of Ravenpaw. "Ew…" she said to Firepaw. "Ya know what, dawg? I can't stand these actors. They smell like--''
All of a sudden, Tigerclaw gave a yowl and came into camp, his brown tabby fur soaked in blood. Bluestar squinted her eyes. "Clan, get your tails over to the Highrock!" Firepaw shrugged and obeyed as Graypaw stayed muttering, "Precious shiny… You shall soon be mine."
Bluestar collapsed on the rock and looked at everyone before mewing, "Tigerclaw, Ravenpaw has told me many things."
Tigerclaw spat out Redtail and quickly scratched some tortoiseshell fur out of his claws. "Ravenpaw says lots of stuff."
"Tigerclaw, you are hereby charged of twenty-seven crimes, in the court of ThunderClan!" Bluestar roared. "And you are legally responsible for Redtail's death! What is your defense against that, Tigey?"
"My defense is a short one, Bluestar." Tigerclaw looked at every gasping cat evenly before holding out a paw and mewing, "I blame it all on Oakheart."
Bluestar shrugged. "That works. Who wants a party?"
"Shouldn't you guys be mourning Redtail's death?" Firepaw asked.
"'Should' is different from 'what we actually do'," Bluestar responded.
"I don't get."
"Good."
Spottedleaf produced her accordion from thin air before proceeding to use it to create a wailing sound that may vaguely and inaccurately be described as music.
Yo, sing me a tale of the deputy,
'Cuz he's dead now, ya really,
In the StarGang with all our dead parents,
He's livin' it up, no need for rent,
Dustpaw should be sad,
My rhymes are really bad…
At the same time, the she-cat gingerly slapped on wads of white cobwebs onto Ravenpaw as Graypaw mewed through a mouthful of tail, "Shiny is mine! MINE MINE MINE!" Firepaw rolled his eyes, with obvious difficulty. If you were a cat, you would probably have trouble too.
Meanwhile, Tigerclaw, looking quite defiant for so easily squeezing out of his accused twenty-seven crimes, sidled up next to Spottedleaf, his amber eyes filled with all sorts of mischief that would obviously point out that he would end up as a ShadowClan leader. "How is Ravenpaw?" he asked with clenched teeth and unsheathed claws. Certain insanity flew through his eyes so quick that it made a tiny sonic boom. Of course, Firepaw was the only one who could hear the boom, since Spottedleaf was playing her accordion so cruelly that most cats of ThunderClan had either gone deaf or died.
"Welllllll," Spottedleaf continued as the accordion finally hit such a high note that it exploded. "Like OMSTARCLAN!" she shrieked as she held the tattered thing not dared called an instrument by any cat who had heard the sounds from it. She immediately began using the cobwebs meant for Ravenpaw to slap on her instrument of doom and death. The usually calm medicine-cat now rushed back to her den and back. "Let's see," she could be heard murmuring. "Poppy seeds for the pain, marigold for infection… Oh, my dear accordion! Do not cry so loudly! Mummy is coming!" The she-cat paced back and forth as she continued to "heal" her "child."
"Anyway," Tigerclaw growled loudly as Firepaw winced at the sight of his huge claws, which were dangerously close to Ravenpaw's neck. "How is my apprentice anyway? Will he live?"
"Yes, yes," Spottedleaf murmured as she wiped away the tears from her amber eyes as she quickly brought her entire accordion to her den. "Ravenpaw isn't dead yet."
"Mouse-dung!" Tigerclaw growled, shooting a nasty look at the night-shaded apprentice. "Er— I mean, how fortunate." With a small second of thinking he added in a dull voice, "Hurray." He then swiveled his vile head towards Firepaw. "Hm… who're you?"
"He's Firepaw!" Graypaw suddenly mewed as he stalked over with a bunch of black fur in his teeth.
"He smells like he's been with Twolegs," Tigerclaw spat with disdain. Looking at Graypaw, he added, "And you smell like you've been being stupid again. Am I right?"
Graypaw and Firepaw exchanged a quick glance before turning and mumbling, "Yeah" and "Pretty much."
"I do remember Bluestar talking about bringing in some kittypet… Well, Firepaw, good luck. Since you're going to be my mortal enemy and all." The ginger cat shrugged. Since he was obviously the protagonist, he knew not to worry.
Tigerclaw shot him another menacing glare that would have made a crocodile cry actual tears before padding away in his evilness. Suddenly, Ravenpaw broke out of his act. "Is Tigerstar away from ye sights?" he mewed in a quiet voice.
"Well, we can see him," Firepaw said pointedly. "But he's gone. Does that count?"
"MOVE!" All too soon, Spottedleaf was skidding across the clearing. "I have work here to do! You know, they say tennis rackets are made of catgut, so I was thinking, why not accordions?" She shot a malicious glance at Ravenpaw as she spoke, making him fall into an actual faint.
"Er, let's get going if we care about our innards," Graypaw suddenly said uneasily as he side-stepped around the camp.
"Anyway," he continued blandly as he looked about. "Over there's the Highrock; which you already know unless you have short-term memory loss. Bluestar likes to sit up there and complain to us. She sleeps underneath of it in hopes that the rock will crush her flat in her sleep so she doesn't have to put up with us anymore. The den was created when I rammed myself head-on into it as a kit while I was covered in lichen. Thus, I now have a minor brain injury which deludes my common sense." Graypaw cast the stone an affectionate look before moving towards a bush.
"This is where the warriors sleep," Graypaw added. "One day some leader told us to sleep in the uncomfortable bushes rather than a nice nest filled with heather. Since the Clan cats back then were not placed in the 'intelligent life' bracket, no one said anything. Thus it is a common custom to not say anything when you go to rest. The leader also told the senior warriors to go eat in the nettles. Younger warriors keep their distance because they tend to be smarter. However, sometimes the senior warriors sometimes call the younger so that the youngsters can die from the nettle stings. It is a quite effective way of controlling our population."
"What about everyone else?" Firepaw asked, feeling amazed that the senior warriors actually sat in nettle all day.
"Queens go to the nursery if they have kits," Graypaw yawned. "If they aren't, they stick around with the warriors. The elders have their own place too. It has a pool table. Let's go see it." Before Firepaw could mention that he dreaded seeing Strangefoot again, he padded after his gray friend to the fallen tree that carried the stench of old.
And so, the young cats made it to the elderly cats, Dappletail, Smallear, Halftail, and One-eye. Almost immediately, Halftail mewed, "You're that new apprentice right?"
"You really are old if you can't remember the meeting that happened only like five minutes ago," Graypaw retorted. He was hit on the head with a flying dark-brown paw.
"I'm not old, I'm just age-challenged!" Halftail spat as he wagged his half of a tail around vigorously.
"I'm really Firepaw, the new apprentice," he finally spoke with a polite nod.
"I'm Halftail, and I don't like you." The brown tom narrowed his eyes.
"Are you two hungry?" Smallear asked in a soft, whispering mew. They both nodded eagerly. "WELL YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY! BWAHAHAHA!" Smallear grabbed his enormous amount of fresh-kill and moved to the other side of camp.
One-eye leaned over in a grandma-like fashion. "Don't mind him," she meowed firmly. "But if Dappletail doesn't mind…" The tortoiseshell she-cat shook her head.
"I am fat enough, One-eye," she croaked indignantly.
One-eye rolled her clouded eye before chucking them a mouse with her frail elderly gray paw.
"Mmmm… Mouse," Graypaw yawned. "Mouse, like the kind I have every single stupid day of my life. Here, Firepaw, you take plenty." Firepaw sniffed the dead rodent. He took a careful bite…
"Tastes like beef-flavored chicken that looks like salmon," he concluded, thinking of petty kittypet food. "Not bad, actually."
Graypaw, feeling insanely jealous, suddenly scooted himself in and began eating.
"A new deputy," Smallear mewed. "I didn't think Redtail was that old."
"Hey, he didn't die from old age!" Dappletail pointed out. "A monster got him."
"No, it was a Twoleg with a weird book with a ginger on the cover!" Halftail argued. After a quick squabble, they finally returned on topic.
"She better choose a new deputy soon," Dappletail mewed calmly. "After moonhigh, uh… What does happen to deputies appointed after moonhigh anyway?" The elderly cats just shrugged.
"Maybe they lose their kits," piped up Halftail. "Bluestar lost hers before becoming deputy."
Once again, Firepaw listened to them squabble.
"Well, at least we all know who Bluey's going to choose," Smallear finished. Tigerclaw had his ears towards the log. Firepaw shot him a look that could've had made Strangefoot deputy.
And speaking of Strangefoot, the old tom was just about to pad over when Bluestar yowled, "Everyone, get over here! I'm bored and I want a deputy to complain to."
Firepaw padded over with Graypaw and the elders obediently. Bluestar looked over her cats proudly before meowing, "I'm going to sit around with Redtail for a while so I can think back on all the times I whined to him. We're burying him at dawn so we don't have to see his ugly face anymore."
There was a cheer. "And before StarClan," Bluestar added, "I want Redtail to hear what I think as a last requesting complaint..." Tigerclaw was now staring intently at the Highrock. Firepaw was wondering what was up with Tigerclaw's attraction to the rock when Bluestar mewed, "Lionheart is the new deputy of this clan."
There was a shout of joy as Lionheart stalked forward to take his deputyship. "I-I," he stammered, "I would like to thank my mom and my dad for their unfailing support in what has led me to tonight," he managed through his sobs. "I will be the best and most important deputy ThunderClan has ever seen! Although I cannot guarantee that you'll be freed from your regular duties every two days, or that…"
The golden tabby talked and talked and talked. After three hours straight of talking, every cat had left, and it had become quite apparent that Lionheart was speaking just to hear his own voice, occasionally referring to "the cats who made it possible for this night."
Firepaw yawned after listening to Lionheart. Indeed, it seemed that certain words induced sleepiness—and it happened that Lionheart used these words with every single sentence. Inadvertently, he followed Graypaw to some bushy ferns behind a tree stump. "Who's with us, anyway?" Firepaw murmured.
"Me, you, Ravenpaw, Dustpaw, and Sandpaw," Graypaw answered in a way similar to a robot. He sat by the stump, muttering something about shiny things, as a pale red she-cat with light strips of tabby fur strode by them. Her green eyes glittered with mischief.
"Now what do we have here?" she meowed, not letting her sarcasm go unnoticed. "Could it be a kittypet? A pretty little kittypet? Why Graypaw, did you find this pretty little kitty all by yourself? Did the pretty kitty follow you home? And is Auntie Bluestar letting you keep the pretty kitty?" Every word was a sharp double-bladed sneer. Firepaw blinked defiantly, secretly thinking that she was pretty cute with that attitude…
"Hey, just because he's pretty doesn't mean you have to be a hater," Graypaw responded loudly enough to attract the ever-observant ears of Whitestorm.
Sandpaw rolled her eyes. "What's his name then? Fluffy, perhaps?"
Whitestorm was immediately by them, putting his glasses farther up his near-vertical nose. "Now, now, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all." He pulled out a book on the number phi, not to be confused with pi, as he added, "You have to go to sleep anyway, Sandpaw. Just be glad his name isn't Gangsterpaw." Sandpaw snorted as she padded off to find her bed, with Firepaw and Graypaw hurrying after.
"And in case you're wondering, Fluffy," Sandpaw growled as she circled well over seventeen times around her nest, "This half of the quarters is mine!" As if to prove it, she added more moss to cover half of the sleeping space. Graypaw and Firepaw both shrugged. And Firepaw gave only a miniscule kind of shrug.
He quickly slapped together some moss and lichen before circling into his new bed. As he rested his head, he felt oddly surprised to think that his being in the wild wasn't so bad. He was a ThunderClanner now. And as he drifted to sleep, dreams of Spottedleaf's accordion and mice with scythes raced through his mind, like clouds on a rainy day…
I'll keep updating... But Chapter 5 is dauntingly long. WAH!
