"And sorry I could not travel both"
AMBER
"You missed! How could you miss it? It was right there!"
She let out a huff of frustration as the trout darted away through the rocks. She withdrew her empty forepaw from the river, yielding nothing. "Maybe if you weren't such a loud furball, it would have stuck around long enough for me to catch it," she fired back.
"What, did you think it was going to swim right into your paws?" her denmate sneered from the bank, eyes dancing with mischief.
She opened her mouth to retort when her mentor stepped forward. "Amberpaw," he said calmly. "This isn't your first time fishing. Don't be so impatient."
Amberpaw scowled at the brown-and-ginger tom. "Stormpaw was harassing me!"
The stocky gray apprentice nearby let out an indignant cry.
But her mentor wasn't amused. "Why are you even letting him get to you? You should be holding yourself accountable for your own actions."
Amberpaw shot Stormpaw a sharp look, though her eyes betrayed her amusement. The stocky tabby smirked and the two began to box playfully.
"Are you two kits or warrior apprentices?" her mentor sighed in exasperayion. "I thought we were trying to get in a bit of training before the Gathering?"
The two apprentices sat up quickly, smoothing their fur, their heads bowed apologetically.
"Sorry, Sedgecreek…" they muttered in unison.
The mottled tom snorted, turning to pad away. "Honestly, sometimes I feel more like a queen in the nursery when I'm with you two."
Stormpaw's eyes glittered impishly at Amberpaw. "He'd make a pretty ugly queen," he whispered.
They promptly followed the older warrior, trying in vain to swallow their mirth. At multiple intervals, the stocky gray apprentice stuck out a paw to trip his denmate, only to have his balance thrown off in retaliation by a hip-check by the younger she-cat.
It was obvious to any cat that the two were inseparable friends. Partners in crime, they had been described. Their mentors were patient, but the two frequently needed to be reeled in. In this dark age of war and division, they needed to equip their apprentices with the skills they needed to survive.
Sedgecreek maintained his pace, though he could not help but roll his eyes good-naturedly at their antics. The two were brimming with youth and he couldn't help but appreciate their blissful ignorance. His heart longed for more innocent times.
Up ahead, the gentle crashing of waves indicated they had reached the shore. The full moon blazed like a beacon in the sky through the clouds. Countless figures of cats shifted on the Island ahead.
"Are you nervous?" Stormpaw whispered.
Amberpaw shook her head at the tom two moons her senior. "Excited," she said, breathlessly.
Despite being three moons into her warrior training, this would be her very first Gathering. Her first moon had been deemed too dangerous at the time between Clan relations for the newly appointed apprentice to attend. The following moon she had been bed-ridden with an infected thorn wound in her paw. Amberpaw was wild with impatience to meet the other Clans for the first time.
"Now, remember," Sedgecreek warned as they stood on the banks adjacent from the Gathering place. "Full moon aside, these cats are still your enemies. Despite what our ancestors decreed, it's important to remember where your loyalties lie."
Amberpaw shivered.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sedgecreek."
Satisfied, the light mottled tom turned and slipped into the water, paddling with large paws across the lake toward the Island. The two apprentices followed, shuddering at the sudden onset of the cool waters. The surface was black as night, the night sky mirroring the seemingly impenetrable clouds above. Amberpaw glided forward like a vehicle of grace, a creature of the lake. She never felt more comfortable, more beautiful than she did when she was in the water. Yet tonight, as she propelled toward the meeting spot of the Clans, Amberpaw felt her chest tighten with anticipation.
Sedgecreek led them onto the banks and through the undergrowth, until they emerged into the clearing. Amberpaw's senses were suddenly arrested by a whirlwind of various scents.
"It's still important to understand who your enemy is," Sedgecreek told them. "As long as you stay together and remain impartial, you should still make an effort to get to know the others, even from WindClan."
Amberpaw tried to swallow her rising nervousness as her mentor padded away. Dozens of warriors from various Clans were scattered throughout the area. They stood in close clusters, chatting and sharing tongues. Stories of the full moon truce that instilled fantasies of camaraderie came flooding back to her.
Stormpaw's fur bristled beside her, breaking her thoughts. Amberpaw glanced at him curiously. "What's wrong?"
She followed his gaze, which was fixated across the clearing. Electric blue eyes leered back. Deep resentment burned in the depths of the gray warrior's eyes. Amberpaw felt something stir deep within her. A thrill of fear in the pit of her stomach. The intensity of his anger felt almost personal.
"Give it a rest, WindClan," Stormpaw muttered under his breath. "What a creep."
Amberpaw studied the dark gray warrior from afar, watching as his lanky figure melted into the crowd. "Maybe he just thought we were someone else."
But Stormpaw didn't look convinced. "Do you know anyone yet?" she asked him, trying to lighten the mood. "Outside RiverClan, I mean."
"Oh sure. I know a bunch of warriors," Stormpaw boasted.
Amberpaw rolled her eyes skeptically. "Oh really. Who of your many friends should we talk to first, then?"
Stormpaw frowned thoughtfully and scanned the clearing.
"Let's go join Rowanheart," Stormpaw suggested, his tail flicking toward an ancient-looking brown tom.
"You mean the elder from our very own Clan? Wow – you really are popular with the other Clans!" Amberpaw sneered.
Stormpaw flattened his ears. "More than you!"
They padded over to where Rowanheart sat with four unfamiliar cats. Judging from their appearances, they all appeared to be elders as well.
"Ah, Stormpaw, Amberpaw. Welcome," the RiverClan senior rasped. "Sit, sit."
The two apprentices timidly eyed the group of elders. However, the golden queen closest to them offered them a warm smile.
"You two must be freezing," she croaked in a terribly rasping voice, hoarse with age. Her words were barely distinguishable. "Come, sit. Get warm and dry."
The two apprentices exchanged a glance and bought into the older queen's friendly tone. Amberpaw nervously faced the queen.
"Which Clan are you from?" she asked nervously.
"WindClan, dear," she rasped. "For now at least."
Amberpaw tilted her head curiously. "What do you mean?"
The elders flashed a range of bemused expressions, as though sharing an inside joke.
"Whispersong's already got one paw across the border with StarClan." Rowanheart teased.
The WindClan queen rolled her eyes at him. "Not yet. You'll have to put up with me just a little bit longer."
"Don't worry," a dark speckled tom winked at the two apprentices. "Whenever she starts to nag, it's pretty easy to tune out that inaudible rasp of hers."
Whispersong narrowed her eyes playfully. "You'll miss me someday, you know."
"Who says I won't go first?"
"When we all get to StarClan, will Whispersong get her original voice back? Or keep this one?"
"In other words, will we still be friends with you?"
Amberpaw felt herself relax a little, at ease around the elders' teasing. This was how she had always imagined cross-Clan interactions would be. Her chest swelled with hope.
"Do you really think about that?" Amberpaw asked timidly. "Being in StarClan? Together, staying friends?"
One silver queen's eyes glittered excitedly. "Time has forged networks deeper than you can imagine. We're connected in ways that span beyond the boundaries that divide our Clans."
Amberpaw's heart gave a thrill of excitement. "That's beautiful."
"How can you say that, Seedwhisker? When our days are so plagued by all of this war and suffering?"
A black tom with an unsightly broken tail sniffed disdainfully. The light mood lessened considerably.
Rowanheart tried to smile at the two apprentices. "Don't mind that crank. Crookedtail has little faith in Clan alliances."
"What alliances?" Crookedtail narrowed his eyes. "When push comes to shove, friendships outside your Clan simply aren't meant to last."
"Don't you think you're being a little bit cynical, Crookedtail?" one tom meowed.
"We're still bickering about battles won and lost from countless moons ago." Crookedtail muttered. "And we all lost friends, family. We still carry those scars."
The other tom shrugged. "At this point in my life, I don't see the value in still getting hung up on the past. Leave that to the younger, stronger warriors to worry about."
Disheartened, Amberpaw glanced around the group. It was clear by his scent and lean frame that Crookedtail was from WindClan. "Were our Clans always like this?" she dared ask. "Fighting, I mean?"
Some of their gazes softened remorsefully. "Well..." Rowanheart began, but Crookedtail cut him off. "Once pride and survival come into play, it's difficult to forgive and forget."
"Unfortunately, your generation has been condemned by faults that originated with us," Rowanheart murmured.
Amberpaw heart sank. As a kit, she spent her days in the elder's den, listening to the tales and legends of the four Clans, united as they were divided, and the pivotal moments when they would converge to lend a helping hand. When hard times fell and Clan boundaries dissolved. In the end, they were all the same. Clan affiliations meant little in the grand scheme of survival. The Clans had always existed on a bedrock of symbiosis.
But that time had passed.
"Thank you for your stories," Amberpaw mumbled, rising to her paws. "They were… very enlightening."
Stormpaw glanced at her curiously, then nodded. "Yes, thank you. It was nice seeing you all again."
The elders nodded and muttered their goodbyes as the two slipped away.
"You just had to ask," Stormpaw teased half-heartedly.
Amberpaw sighed ruefully. "Well, that was depressing."
"They're just a bunch of daft, old fools," he assured her with a nudge. "If I was sitting in my den all day, I'd be cynical too."
Amberpaw's heart twisted with regret. Why couldn't WindClan and RiverClan bury their differences? She yearned to learn what knowledge others had harnessed, to share her own experiences. She dreamed of laughter and healthy competition. Was she so naïve to conceptualize such a fantasy?
Yet throughout the entire Gathering, she could feel eyes burning into her fur. And when she scanned the clearing, she always found they belonged to the same long-bodied gray tom. But he always glanced away, never once making eye contact again.
What is his deal? she thought.
By the end of the evening, Amberpaw felt emotionally drained. The Gathering, brief as it was, had been filled with tension and verbal abuse between the two Clans. The air was thick, like a storm about to break. Threats were made, vengeance declared, grim outlooks forecasted ahead.
Yet as she settled into her nest, what disturbed Amberpaw the most were the hostile, dark blue eyes from the other side of the clearing.