song: The Fugitive Kind — The Trigger Code
When Darkpaw first started her apprenticeship, she didn't expect for this to happen — this being befriending a cat with powers that she can't even comprehend that refused to listen to any requests she made. Life, though, had a way of circumventing expectations, so it happened anyways.
She first met the she-cat that would become said friend on her first day of training. She'd still been riding the high given to her from when Dawnstar had changed her name from Darkkit to Darkpaw and meeting her mentor, who was a nice pale ginger-furred tom named Goldentree. Goldentree had ordered her to sit in the middle of a clearing and observe the territory, so she'd curled her tail neatly around her paws and sat with her back straight, not wanting to disappoint her mentor. She watched the clouds drift across the sky and listened to birdsong and felt wind comb its way through her fur and breathed in stale prey scent, and she quickly grew bored with all of that but didn't complain; it was her first day and she wasn't going to disappoint.
What she hadn't noticed was how the world changed from one moment to the next. It was like everything went dull, all the vivacity it'd had before sucked from it and leaving it cold and still.
"Aren't you a pretty one," a voice above her had mewed. Startled, Darkpaw snapped her head up to look at the intruder. "Or, at least, you will be," they corrected.
They turned out to be a pure white she-cat whose fur appeared to glow in the suddenly bleak world. Pale green eyes stood in contrast to her pelt, and her pelt looked feather-soft, even from the distance she was from the apprentice. She was perched on a thick tree branch, her tail and one of her hindlegs hanging off of it as she looked down at the younger cat.
"Who're you?" Darkpaw asked, instantly defensive with narrow blue eyes. "Goldentree'll chase you off, you know! Especially if you're a Deserter!"
"Oh, was that his name?" the she-cat asked. "Strange one. But I don't think he'll be much of a problem."
"What?" She snapped her head around to look for her mentor, but she found now trace of him — he'd been right by her side a moment ago, and now he was gone. There was no imprint in the grass where he'd been standing, no rustling of the underbrush at the edges of the clearing. When she sniffed at the air, there wasn't even a hint of his scent.
"Do you have a name as strange as Goldentree?" the white cat asked. When she looked back up at her, Darkpaw saw that a foreleg had joined the other appendages hanging off of the branch and she'd rested her head on the forepaw still on the tree.
"...Darkpaw," she answered absently (though she didn't think her name was that strange). Then, a new thought entered her mind, making her black fur rise to stand on end and her eyes go round. "What did you to do Goldentree?!" she screeched up at the intruder — this cat had to be a Deserter, especially if she hurt her mentor.
"I didn't do anything to the tom," she meowed casually. "Only a few cats can come here; here being the spirit world. You, Darkpaw—" she sounded like she was testing the name, "— are one of a lucky few."
Darkpaw didn't feel very lucky. "The what world?"
The she-cat lifted her head just slightly, and her green eyes sharpened as she looked down at her. "What do you believe in, again?"
"StarClan, obviously," Darkpaw told her, ignoring the again. "Where else would I go when I die?"
"Here," the stranger mewed with a swish of her tail. "Most cats do. The spirit world is a large place, after all."
Darkpaw's fur fluffed with hot anger. Was she saying that StarClan wasn't real? "I'm going to join StarClan!" she hissed.
"Oh, I don't doubt that it's a possibility," she commented. "There's plenty of powerful and mysterious forces in the world, after all — I should know, I'm one of them."
The apprentice blinked up at her, confusion and irritation swirling in her chest. "What?"
"You know, I'm going to call you dark?" the white cat decided, glossing over her question. "I think Darkpaw is a bit of a mouthful."
"It's my name."
"And now Dark is your nickname!" Darkpaw narrowed her eyes at the she-cat's purred statement. "You know, Dark, I like you."
"O...kay?"
The other cat stared at her for a while, head tilted. "I think you'll do just fine," she finally meowed. One of the apprentice's ears folded backwards in confusion, and she could tell that she was a heartbeat away from snapping at her, but she didn't get the chance to before the she-cat spoke again. "I have powers, you know."
Darkpaw's ears perked, but when she spoke again it was through nigh-gritted teeth. "What kind of powers?"
"All kinds."
Darkpaw turned her eyes to the gray, cloudy sky above her head. "Could you make it sunny?"
"I could," she meowed. "But I won't."
The apprentice narrowed her eyes at her — what was the point of having powers if you weren't going to use them? Then she shook herself; she was messing with her, obviously. She shouldn't let a Deserter get to her like she was.
"My name is Rose, by the way," the she-cat told her. She let herself slide all the way off of the branch, but before she hit the ground the world filled with life and brightness again and Rose was gone.
It rained for the next quarter-moon, and no cat caught even a fleeting glimpse of the sun.
The next time she encountered Rose, it was in the middle of camp. She'd been having trouble sleeping — both her nest and the apprentices' den felt too small, too confining, so she slipped outside in hopes of fresh air. When she emerged from her den, life around her faded, and sitting in the center of camp without a care in the world was a pure white she-cat.
"Rose?!" Darkpaw exclaimed.
"Hey, Dark!" Rose greeted cheerfully, curling her tail around her paws.
"What are you doing here?" the younger asked in a hiss, but shook her head as soon as the words left her mouth. "Don't answer that, just leave! If someone else sees you—"
"We're fine," Rose mewed, rolling her eyes. "Your cats can't come to the spirit world."
"My cats?"
"Well, you're one of them, so that makes them yours as far as I'm concerned," Rose meowed. "Stay for a while! You just missed High Moon."
"What's so special about moonhigh?" Darkpaw asked. The other she-cat shrugged.
"Nothing, really," she answered. "It gets interesting in a few hours. But you can meet the rest of my cats!"
"Your cats?" Darkpaw was getting tired of asking so many questions. "Are you their leader, or just part of the group?"
"Both, neither, does it matter?"
She bit back a groan and told Rose, "Yes!"
"Come on, Dark, it's not important! I'm sure everyone else would love to meet you."
Darkpaw turned her head to look at the entrance of camp over her shoulder. She wasn't supposed to leave camp this late — StarClan, she wasn't even supposed to be out of her den right now, and if she was caught, then she'd be a Deserter. "I'll pass," she mewed.
"Awww," Rose complained. "I'll tell them you said hi, though."
"Yeah, sure," Darkpaw drawled slowly, looking back and Rose and tilting her head. "You do that."
"Well, I gotta go!" Rose declared, hopping to her paws in one graceful movement. "It was nice seeing you, Dark!" With that, she she turned and padded slowly out of camp, her bright tail flicking once behind her before it disappeared.
Darkpaw didn't see Rose for a moon after that, but it wasn't good timing when she did come back. One of her Clanmates had just died — not that she was particularly close to the cat, but still — and she was supposed to be mourning, properly grieving and showing her true spirit of Clan community. The dimming around her fit the mood, but the brightness of Rose's fur and her personality wasn't what Darkpaw wanted or needed then.
"What are you doing here?" she growled when she spotted her.
"I came to see you!" Rose purred, sitting down so close that their fur brushed. "That cat that died didn't end up in the spirit world, so I guess that StarClan is real." There was a sour expression on her face as she said it, like she'd just had to eat crowfood.
"Is that a bad thing?" Darkpaw asked, annoyance leaking into her voice.
"For me it is."
Darkpaw's fur fluffed with anger at the she-cat's concern — one of her Clanmates had just died, and she was complaining that he didn't end up where she wanted him to? "What are you doing in the spirit world, then?" she almost snarled, hackles raising.
"I was born here."
"Then why don't you die and find out where you'll go!" This time, Darkpaw really did snarl.
Rose only laughed. She dropped into a hunter's crouch and stalked across the ground, belly fur brushing the smooth ground of her Clan's camp. "Oh, Reapers won't come near me," she told her. "They're too scared of what I can do."
She didn't ask what Reapers were, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know. Either way, she was too angry for any more conversation, so she rose to her paws and stomped away from the other she-cat, ignoring the See you soon, Dark! that came from behind her.
Rose came to her once when she was hunting, sitting patiently where her prey would have been, being toppled over and pinned as a result. She didn't growl or snarl or even try to throw her off — just smiled up at her and offered her a friendly greeting.
Darkpaw sighed. "Hello, Rose," she mewed. "Why are you interrupting my hunt?"
"A cat that I knew died," Rose told her, still smiling. "He didn't come to the spirit world, either."
Darkpaw's eyes narrowed, not getting off of the she-cat. "Shouldn't you be sad, or something? Crying, maybe?"
"I don't cry!" An annoying warmth entered her eyes, but her vision stayed clear and it didn't sting like tears and didn't linger for long. With another sigh, she got off of the white cat and sat back. Rose watched as she went, and didn't get up. "You know, I've been wondering if you'll come here or not."
"I won't," she assured. "I'm a Clan cat. I'll go to StarClan, like all other Clan cats."
Rose pawed at the air above her, eyes drifting to the sky. "Guess I'll be having a custody battle, then." She went silent for a moment, then two. "You know, Dark, it turns out I was right when I said you'd grow up to be pretty.
Darkpaw felt her eyes go a bit round, and her face flush beneath her fur. She still wasn't full grown yet, but when she'd met Rose she'd been much smaller. The areas around her ears and tail and paws had still been covered in kit fluff, and her eyes had been a bit darker, and her black pelt hadn't been as smooth and sleek as it was now. "Shut up," she grumbled, looking away from the other she-cat.
"Take a compliment!" Rose purred, then rolled over and back onto her paws in one easy motion. "Looks like I should be going, now. Enjoy not crying anymore!"
Darkpaw's head snapped up. "What?" she asked, but she didn't get a response before Rose disappeared from view.
Goldentree made for a good mentor. He wasn't harsh or strict, but he made sure that Darkpaw had learned everything she could as best as she could, and he was always kind to her and made sure that he knew he cared.
And now he was dead.
Dying in battle wasn't something that she could have ever imagined happening to him — he'd always seemed like the type of cat that could have made it to being an elder, with his easy and calm nature that soothed everyone he met, yet here she was at his vigil, his long fur carefully arranged to cover claw scratches and bite wounds that would never be healed.
Darkpaw hadn't cried, even though she'd wanted to.
When all the vivacity of the world faded — and she felt it this time, she didn't see it — she lifted her head to see Rose sitting across from her, looking down at her mentor's body. She was hit with an overwhelming sadness that hit her like the sharpest set of claws digging into her heart, could feel a sob crawling up her throat, but it stopped halfway and she swallowed it down because it was easier to do that than just wait for it to come.
"This is Goldentree?" Rose asked. Darkpaw nodded.
"He was mentor." Her voice came out rough. "He taught me everything I know about being a warrior."
Rose let out a hum. "He's not here, so he must be in StarClan. Want me to fight for him to be here?"
Darkpaw shook her head; Goldentree died a warriors' death, and deserved his place among their ancestors. Instead, she asked, "Why do things like this happen, Rose?"
She gave her a sad look and told her, "I don't know."
Her new mentor was a calm and rational she-cat named Bluewater.
An outbreak of whitecough started the day after Goldentree was buried that half of the Clan died from, no matter how many herbs were used to treat it.
She hadn't noticed the thrum of life leaving the world this time, but when she did she spotted Rose and a throng other cats, larger than Darkpaw had ever seen before, and she'd grown up in a Clan. When Rose caught sight of her, she leapt to her paws and rushed toward her. "This is her!" she cheered. "This is Dark!"
"Darkpaw," she corrected.
"Sorry," A brown tom with hazel eyes spoke, "but if Rose is calling you Dark, then you're Dark."
Darkpaw turned her head to glare at Rose, who ignored it. "These are the cats I wanted to meet!" she chirped. "We've got Moon, Crate, Fire, Iron, Candle, Sweet, Moss, Chip, Ace..." the list went on and on and made Darkpaw's head spin. She forgot one name as soon as Rose said a new one, and eventually Rose finished with, "— Well, you'll meet all of them soon enough," and she felt horrified at the thought that there were even more cats and names to match than just these.
She pushed the thought out of her mind and looked at the crowd. "So is Rose your leader, or what?"
A large gray tom shrugged broad shoulders. "I guess, when we're all together," he meowed. "I'm Crate, by the way."
"Go on, Dark, socialize!" Rose urged, shoving her forward with a shoulder. "You're one of us, after all!"
"I'm what?" Darkpaw asked, turning her head to look at the white she-cat with wide eyes.
"One of us!" Rose mewed cheerily.
"So you're just going to rip me away from StarClan, is that it?" she growled.
A small cough came from in front of Darkpaw, and she whipped her head around to glare at the source. The tortoiseshell in front of her wasn't affected, though.
"Um, I'm Color," she introduced, "but I was Colorpaw."
Darkpaw blinked at her, tense muscles relaxing. "You're a Clan cat?"
"I was a Clan cat," she meowed, her voice soft but firm. "Now I'm here." Nervously, she looked past Darkpaw and towards Rose. "Can I talk to Dark for a bit?"
"Feel free!" Rose mewed happily — Darkpaw could picture her swishing her tail as she said it, and it made her own flick with annoyance. Colorpaw turned and beckoned for Darkpaw to follow her with a swish of her tail, and with a bound she easily caught up to the other apprentice. The two weaved through the throng of cats, leaving the group behind.
"I was part of a Clan called SnowClan," Colorpaw meowed, once they were out of earshot from any other cat. "We lived up North, where prey was scarce and hard to catch. The elders used to tell us that it snowed nine moons of the year, and hailed the other three. I froze to death after I fell in the river while I was hunting, but I died catching the squirrel, because every piece of prey was important to us. Cats, usually apprentices, were punished for not catching anything. When StarClan came to bring me to join them, Rose intervened — but I'm guessing she didn't know that it was StarClan, did she?"
"No," Darkpaw mewed. "Could you come here when you were alive, too?"
Colorpaw nodded her head. "Rose told me that I shouldn't go and join some boring group of cats, not when she had so much fun here. My mother, Coldberry, she told me that I'd died for my Clan and that I should find my place of honor waiting for me in StarClan, and Rose attacked her."
Darkpaw couldn't imagine attacking a StarClan cat, no matter the circumstances. "...And that convinced you to join her?" she asked haltingly.
"No," Colorpaw mewed, "I joined her because she was fighting for me, and because I wanted to get away from cats who punished their Clanmates just because they couldn't find prey. I know that it was always snowy, and it was scarce, but... that's no reason to be punished for it."
Darkpaw noticed, just then, how small Colorpaw was compared to her. She'd put it down to her dying at a young age, but maybe it was something else, like a lack of prey.
Colorpaw looked up at her. "Is there anything you'd leave StarClan behind for?"
She thought, long and careful, her tail swaying behind her. "I don't know," she told her.
Colorpaw — Color, she corrected herself, only purred. "That's fine," she meowed. "But if you find out, you'll have a place to come to here."
Three kits were dragged into camp by the dawn patrol the next day. "Where's Dawnstar?" one warrior yowled, making the kits in his companions' grip struggle even more, frightened tears streaming down their cheeks as their paws scrabbled at the air.
"We weren't Deserting, I swear!" one she-kit cried.
"We just wanted to see what the territory looked like!" her brother pleaded.
"Oh, shut up, will you," an apprentice on the patrol growled.
"Quiet, Hushpaw," a warrior instructed sternly. "An apprentice never gives orders, even to Deserter kits."
Hushpaw dipped her head respectfully to the warrior, but anger still caused her ears to twitch erratically atop her head — Darkpaw had done the same motion with her own often enough to know.
Dawnstar, a cream-colored tom with dark eyes, approached the patrol. "What's this I hear about Deserters?" he asked, a cold expression on his face, but he seemed to falter just slightly when he looked at the squirming kits.
The first warrior dipped his head to the leader. "We found them wandering the territory, close to the border."
With a soft sigh, Dawnstar shook his head. "Deserters must be punished, no matter their age," he stated — something that everyone present already knew all too well. "Set them down," he ordered. The cats carrying the kits did so, not at all gently. He lifted a paw and unsheathed long, sharp claws, making them tremble, and they cried out when he cut off the tip of one of their ears; the sign of the Deserts, and something more than half the Clan carried now that the other half had died from illness. Darkpaw was thankful she wasn't one of them.
With a start, Darkpaw realized that this punishment wasn't normal. Kits shouldn't be given scars that would mark them as lower-tier cats for the rest of their lives, and cats shouldn't be judged by when they were awake or asleep or where they were in the territory or how they acted with the rest of the Clan have to second-guess every action they made just to fit in. On patrols, cats were told to watch equally for invaders and Deserters, and anything from breaking the Warrior Code to acting a little suspicious could qualify you as one.
Color had asked her what she'd leave StarClan behind for.
Maybe, Darkpaw thought, this is it.
When Darkpaw died, she drowned.
She'd traveled outside of Clan boundaries in the spirit world, but hadn't noticed until the vivacity and brightness of the living world had returned. She'd been spotted by a patrol, and being on the unclaimed side of the border was enough to deem her a Deserter, so she ran as fast as her legs would carry her so that she could avoid punishment at Dawnstar's claws.
She hadn't thought trying to leap over the gorge would be a bad idea until she'd done it.
When Goldentree came to escort her to StarClan, she kindly refused. Instead, her and her first mentor spoke about everything from how the prey was running to how she'd wandered into the spirit world on her friend day of training and met a future friend until Rose came to spirit her away.
rewritten on february 16th, 2020.
it's kinda weird to go back and revisit the thing that inspired Dance With Shadows, especially since i didn't know it'd create the joy that have been Oakpaw and Creekpaw, but it was pretty fun :D