It's a long story... You might call it twisted, just like my leg.
Still, you're brave to ask me. I'm afraid I've developed quite the temper alongside my old age.
I won't refuse, but you have to promise me not to go around meowing about it- I'm an elder, not the center of all you young uns' latest gossip.
You promise? Good. I don't know if I can really trust the word of you, but I'm sure you know the consequences if you go around doing what you just said you wouldn't. I might be old, but I certainly haven't lost any of my reputation, eh?
Now, now, settle down. I'm not going to continue this tomorrow, or the day after that or so on, so you'd best prepare for a long night.
It all started one midnight, the day before the full moon, with my parents, Fernstar- Fernflight, then- and Stoneheart.
A dark, stormy swathe of clouds covered the night sky, hiding the stars from the world below. It was a fierce, persevering storm that lit up the sky with bright flashes of lightning that illuminated the forest below and filled the air with loud, deafening booms of thunder.
Three cats huddled in the poor shelter of a holly bush, the air around them tense and rigid. One cat, a pale tortoiseshell she-cat, was curled on the ground, her fur stiff and eyes wide with pain. In the nook of her belly lay a tiny tortoiseshell shape, stubby tail sticking straight out. The flanks of the newborn kit barely stirred, and the second cat, a gray tom with white paws, paced next to the duo with a frantic look on his face.
The third cat, a black tom, gently rolled the kit over with one paw and pressed the other softly on the kit's chest, as if trying to increase the breathing. The technique, clearly well-practiced and well-learned, still couldn't the help the tiny tortoiseshell, though, and the breaths soon became even fainter.
A yowl erupted from the birthing queen as another shape slid onto the ground. The black tom turned swiftly and nipped open the thin sac, revealing a small gray she-kit with one white forepaw.
When the tom glanced at the tortoiseshell, the breathing had stopped completely. The first kit had been lost, but there was still a chance to save the second kit.
The gray she-kit was already breathing strongly, though; it didn't need the tom's help. He placed it gently beside its mother and stepped back to place both the gray tom with the white paws and the tortoiseshell queen in his line of sight. "Fernflight, Stoneheart, you are now the parents of two she-kits. I'm sorry, but the first died. It was too weak to survive. Still, your second kit is strong and perfectly healthy. She'll be just as good a hunter as his mother and just as fast and strong as his father."
"Stoneheart, you'll have to bury the first kit. Still, we need to give them both names first. You can name the tortoiseshell, and I'll name the gray she-kit," Fernflight responded, her voice strained with grief for her firstborn yet still hardened with determination to make it through the tragedy.
"Right," Stoneheart responded, his voice echoing the same emotions as hers. "Why not Fernkit, after her mother?"
The black tom dipped his head. "A beautiful name," he intervened.
Fernflight glanced at the tom, her tail tip flicking dismissively. "You can go now, Blackfur."
Dipping his head a second time, Blackfur turned and stepped gracefully out of the shelter of the holly bush, pausing to pick up a leaf bundle.
"Now, the gray she-kit," Fernflight continued, her loving gaze fixing on the tiny she-kit. "Maybe Hollykit, since she was born in a holly bush?"
"Perfect," Stoneheart declared, before leaning forwards to carefully grasp the newly named Hollykit's scruff. "We have to get them back to camp, now. They were going to be born in the nursery, if you hadn't gone out on that walk." He lifted the kit into the air, swinging her slowly towards where Blackfur had disappeared from inside the holly bush.
Gasping, Fernflight reeled backwards, eyes widening in astonishment. "Stoneheart! Look at it!"
Stoneheart, confused, set the kit down to speak. "What do you mean? Hollykit? Is there something wrong?"
"Is there something wrong?" Fernflight repeated. "Of course there's something wrong! Look at her foreleg!"
The gray tom prodded the kit gently with one white paw, letting out a startle mew as he saw what Fernflight had noticed- a severely twisted foreleg. Still, it took only a heartbeat for him to nuzzle the kit. "So? Who cares? She's still our lovely, perfect daughter."
"No!" Fernflight snarled, rising to her feet. "As long as its leg is twisted, that will be no daughter of mine!"
Hollykit blinked sorrowfully, twisting to one side and letting out a yelp of pain as claws still connected with her shoulder and raked down her disfigured leg. A second blow sent her skidding across the clearing until she tumbled to a halt at her father's paws.
Stoneheart jumped to his feet, letting out a fierce hiss directed at the tortoiseshell she-cat who had hit Hollykit and gray fur bristling. "Look, that's your kit, for StarClan's sake! She's not some sort of evil abomination!"
Hollykit dragged herself into the shadows, ears flat against her head. The gray she-kit walked with a heavy limp, her naturally twisted foreleg providing her with a staggering gait. As she paused to catch her breath, she caught her mother's angry words of retaliation slicing through the air. "I've told you time and time again, Stoneheart, and I'll tell you again- that is not my kit, not as along as it has that ugly twisted leg!"
Lowering her head, the gray she-kit soon found herself struggling into the medicine cat den, where jaws swiftly snagged her scruff and set her gently in a mossy nest. Blackfur blinked warmly at her, his solid black coat gleaming faintly in the sunlight. "Fernflight?" he guessed, voice soft with sympathy as he leaned forwards and sniffed her shoulder wound.
"Don't worry about her," he continued. "She'll get used to it eventually. Until then, you've just got to remember the whole clan loves you and cares for you despite what she thinks."
Hollykit let out a frustrated sigh, tearing at the ground with her claws. "But when will that be? Besides, Fernflight's the best hunter in the clan and Stoneheart's the fastest and strongest cat in the clan! How am I supposed to live up to their reputation and the clan's expectations with this twisted leg of mine?" Her voice rose at the end into a wail and Hollykit lowered her gaze in shame.
Blackfur rested his tail on her shoulder briefly. "No worries. The clans knows you'll try your best at whatever you do, and that's all they ask of you. Your determination and your loyalty."
"Really?" Hollykit sniffled, glancing up at him. She barely paused to ponder why he had said 'whatever you do.'
"Really," Blackfur responded, voice full of certainty and calm determination.
"Blackfur, the dawn patrol's back!" Hollykit called, limping swiftly into the medicine den to find the black-furred tom sifting through his herbs. "They ran into a fox and they're wounded!"
The medicine cat jumped to his feet. "Right, do you know what the worst injuries are?"
Hollykit hesitated, racking her mind for memories of the cats. "Fernflight has a bad bite on her shoulder, Brambletail has a bad limp- I think he got thrown into a tree- and Appleflight's foreleg got twisted, though nothing like my leg, of course," she listed.
Blackfur nodded approvingly, and a rush of pride flashed across Hollykit before she straightened and sniffed the air. "Don't you need marigold for the wounds?" she pressed. "And dock?"
"Marigold, yes, though goldenrod is best for healing wounds. I might use some dock, but only for scratches and sore pads," Blackfur responded. His eyes glimmered with amusement as she, once visibly proud and confident, dulled and blinked quickly in shame. "Still, that was really good. Especially because you're not even a medicine cat apprentice, nor even a warrior apprentice who's had their battle wounds tended to."
"Yeah, well-" Hollykit responded, her mind suddenly throw off topic and instead into the future. What was she going to do? She couldn't be a warrior like any normal kit, so what was she going to do? Retire to live with the elders? But she was just a kit, with so much going for her despite her twisted leg...
A sharp nudge jolted her back to the present. "Come on, Hollykit!" Blackfur barked. "Help me carry these herbs back into the clearing, and then send Fernflight, Brambletail, and Appleflight straight to me, okay?"
Hollykit nodded quickly and picked up a bundle of herbs before darting into the clearing, tail streaming behind her. Then, she skidded to a halt and dropped the herbs in a shady patch of the clearing before rushing as fast as she could limp to the three listed cats, motioning for them to join Blackfur. They nodded and headed over to the medicine cat, and Hollykit was relieved to see them receive treatment even though Fernflight shot her a scorching look.
A sudden thought came to the grey she-kit. Maybe there was a future for her after all... Just not the future she had always thought she would never get to be. She didn't have to be a warrior to serve her clan- there was another role, a very valuable one, and she had a great chance of being able to serve it despite her twisted leg.
The path of a medicine cat.
"Cats of ThunderClan, you all know I will not be around forever. So it's time I took an apprentice. I have chosen a cat who shows intelligence and compassion to both me and her clan mates. Your next medicine cat will be Hollypaw," Blackfur mewed.
Lilystar took a step forwards, her light brown tabby pelt shining in the sun light. "Hollypaw, do you accept the position of apprentice to Blackfur?"
"I do," Hollypaw breathed, eyes wide in excitement.
"Then at the half-moon you must travel to the moonpool to be accepted by StarClan before the other medicine cats," Blackfur continued.
Hollypaw raised her head higher, purring softly as Lilystar finished the ceremony with a quick mew, saying, "The good wishes of all ThunderClan go with you."
The new medicine cat apprentice turned towards her clan mates, lifting her tail and head as high as she could as she listened to their cheers. Her new name rang through the air, filling her with more pride then ever before. Blackfur stood next to her, eyes warm with approval and pride, and as the voices died down he led her towards the medicine cat den.
"Now, let's go through the battle herbs and their uses and then go collect some herbs, okay?" Blackfur announced.
Hollypaw nodded vigorously, mewing, "Yes, Blackfur!"
Of course, later that night everything became terrible again. Blackfur and I were out collecting herbs when a fox- maybe even the same one that had attacked the dawn patrol a few moons before that- pounced on us and Blackfur couldn't get it away from me before tossed me into the air, breaking one of my hind legs. I was to step one, helpless and desperate for a miracle.
After that, Stoneheart became fiercely protective of me. He tried to go with me wherever I went once my leg healed, which was hard because he had his duties and I had mine, but he tried his best. In the end he learned to let go, only two moons before I received my full medicine cat name, Hollyfrost.
Yet, my mother had become deputy during that time, being as our old one had passed away from a disease. Everything was fine for a season and a half until Lilystar lost her ninth life and Fernflight became leader, taking on the name Fernstar. She took every opportunity she had to torture me, and in the end, I had to flee ThunderClan and live off of the mercy of ShadowClan's leader, Tawnystar.
Eventually I managed to prove my loyalty and become one of them; I originally attempted to be a warrior, as they already had two medicine cats, but when a fierce bout of greencough brought the two into StarClan, along with a few others, I took their place as ShadowClan's sole medicine cat.
Still, Fernstar insisted on punishing me for my twisted leg. Countless raids and ambushes were made on ShadowClan, long enough for me to train ShadowClan's current medicine cat, Thornflight, and my new clan had to send me away so as to protect themselves. I found my way to RiverClan, where they were sympathetic enough to promise to teach me how to hunt and fight like a warrior so I could live in peace as a rogue until my mother finally came to accept me.
It took a few moons, but, I eventually did despite my twisted leg. I set off into the wild, determined to live a peaceful life away from Fernstar's wrath. When I eventually returned to the lake seasons later, I was old and frail and both Fernstar and Stoneheart were dead. ThunderClan let me back into their ranks as an elder, which brings me back to the present.
Now, go on. That's the end of my story. Remember your promise, too, young one. If you catch me in a good mood in a few moons, I might go into more detail if you're interested, but for now? Good bye and good night. I'm ready to sleep.