Author's Note: When you first read this, I expect your reaction to be: "Good Lord! A fifth chapter to "Ravenpaw's Secret"?! But there was only supposed to be four! OMG! Spazz! Yes, I understand that I would write only four chapters, but I got the most curious private message. It said: "I expect more." I stopped to ponder this for maybe forty minutes of my young life. And I thought: "There is more to Ravenpaw's story! And there is more that needs to be written about! By God, I must write!" So here is the very unexpected fifth chapter to my story. I am sorry for the small heart attack I may have caused you.
Chapter Five: Ratter
Ravenpaw was prodded awake that morning. 'Great StarClan! Who is that?' he grumbled inwardly, rolling over to avoid the persistent poking. 'Is that Firepaw or Graypaw? What do they want?' He blinked open his eyes, expecting to see the friendly smile of the gray-pelted tom known as Graypaw or the familiar red pelt of his other friend Firepaw.
The cat that loomed above him was black-and-white. Barley. And then he remembered.
The memories washed over him with such a shock, he nearly cried out. He was at Barley's Farm; his new home. He was far away from ThunderClan territory and most likely never to see his mother or friends ever again. He blinked frantically, hoping no tears were welling up in his eyes. He didn't want Barley to think he was unhappy here. He was grateful for the loner to have opened up his home for him, but Ravenpaw missed ThunderClan with such ferocity, it was almost like an ache under his heart. Every time his heart beat, he felt the pain anew, and his whiskers quivered with the force of it. No more running through the forest with his two best friends, no more days of hunting, no more sharing tongues and sharing meals, no more apprentices' den, no more Training Hollow, no more Owl Tree…and most of all, he would never become a warrior.
When he was still a little kit, he had often wondered what his warrior name would be. He toyed around with Ravenclaw and Ravenfeather, finding that they didn't fit him at all. He considered Raventalon, Ravenscreech, and Ravencaw. But now he knew that he would never call any of these names his own; in the eyes of StarClan, he would forever be Ravenpaw. And he would miss the warrior ceremonies of his friends! Firepaw and Graypaw. He had predicted their names to be Graystripe and Firefur, but now he would never find out.
"Hello there, young Ravenpaw. Overslept, have we?" The cheerful greeting from Barley broke Ravenpaw out of his thoughts.
"Oh. Yes," Ravenpaw babbled, getting to his paws and shaking out his pelt. There were a few short moments of awkward silence. If he were back in the Clan, Ravenpaw thought, he would have reported to the Training Hollow with Firepaw and Graypaw for some training. After that, he would hunt for the elders and the queens, and then share tongues with his friends. What was he to do in this strange new territory? There was no prey that needed to be caught for the elders. He had no training to do. He shuffled his paws and trained his gaze on the floor.
"Would you like to eat?" Barley meowed, flicking his tail out at the haystacks, "there are always mice hiding there. We get an occasional rat, too, which is where the real fun comes in." Ravenpaw nodded politely, inwardly wondering how catching rats could be considered as 'fun'. This loner certainly had too much time on his paws. Was this how the kittypets felt, trapped at home in their nests? Was this how Firepaw had felt before he came to the Clans?
In short succession, Ravenpaw had caught three mice. In the forest, the territory was wide, and there were many holes and fronds for the prey to hide in. But here, in a barn with four walls, mice were almost always in clear view of the hunters. It was easy, and even though Ravenpaw complained when his belly was empty, he felt oddly disappointed at this easy catch. After all, what was the satisfaction in catching prey that just wandered up to you curiously?
Halfway through their meal, Barley meowed: "I was thinking of teaching you how to Rat later on. There are always rats in this barn." He shook his head irritably and flicked his ears, "annoying little buggers, but easy to catch. We'll go when you're ready."
'Teach me how to rat?' Ravenpaw wondered inwardly, 'is that how Barley refers to catching rats?'
"I'm ready," he meowed confidently, getting to his paws. He had never caught something just for the fun of it before; he just caught prey for his Clan. Barley looked exceptionably pleased.
"So you're a curious one," he meowed in a friendly manner. "All right then. Come along!" He led the black-pelted apprentice out of the barn and behind it, where there was a long, deep ditch. Ravenpaw remembered it as a place where Bluestar had been attacked by the rats and had lost a life.
Suddenly, a black shape scampered across the ditch, making Ravenpaw jumped. Barley's eyes gleamed. "Watch and learn," he meowed. In a flash, Barley raced over, cornering the rat against the wall of the barn and making a final bound with outstretched claws. But the rat was much quicker than any mouse or rabbit or other forest prey. Barley whirled around suddenly and blocked the rat's escape route. Whippet quick, he bit into the rat, snapping its neck.
"Wow!" Ravenpaw exclaimed. He realized that when hunting rats, stealth did not matter. Precision and speed were of the essence; precision that could only be achieved after many moons of practice. He told this to Barley, who purred.
"Good thinking, Ravenpaw."
Pleased by Barley's praise, Ravenpaw meowed: "Do you think I'm ready to try it for myself?" Barley was clearly hesitant. "Maybe..." he meowed cautiously, but Ravenpaw cut him off.
'He expects me to fail,' the black-pelted tom thought. 'Like Tigerclaw always did!' But this knowledge didn't fill him with bitterness and anger; it fueled him with a fierce fire to prove himself. A fire, he realized, the same fire that filled his friend Firepaw. Now Ravenpaw knew firsthand what it felt like to be the outsider, the one that had to prove himself worthy. Firepaw had to prove what the Clan already took for granted.
The tom's amber eyes scanned the clearing for a rat. He was not disappointed. Soon enough, a long, black shape shot out of the shadows, and Barley meowed: "After it!"
Ravenpaw needed no further encouragement; he was off in a flash. The rat was charging towards the barn walls, and Ravenpaw put on an extra burst of speed. This rat was not going to escape from him; he would catch it and show Barley that he was worthy of the status "Ratter". Suddenly, the rat veered away sharply to the left. Surprised with the sudden maneuver, Ravenpaw cannoned into the barn wall, where he lay, dazed, his head pounding. He heard pawsteps approach and Barley crouched over him, concerned.
"Ravenpaw?" he meowed, whiskers twitching. Ravenpaw realized that he looked concerned, but deeply amused. Barley had known this would happen!
"I told you that you weren't ready yet," Barley meowed disapprovingly.
"You never said that," Ravenpaw groaned, getting to his paws, "you just said 'maybe.'"
Barley purred with laughter. "But now you know. Ratting is different from catching your forest prey. Like you said, you have to be swift, but you have to control your paws instead of crashing recklessly through the barn." He twitched his ears once more in an effort to contain his amusement and meowed: "Enough of ratting for today. I'll show you around the territory."
Ravenpaw shook his head once more, hard, to clear it, and padded after Barley, slightly annoyed and slightly pleased at the same time. He would catch the rat next time. By StarClan, he swore it.
xxx
"And here is the edge of my territory."
The voice of Barley broke Ravenpaw from his thoughts. They had been traveling through Barley's farm for quite some while--the tom insisted on giving Ravenpaw ample time to get used to the new space.
Already, the tom missed the trees and the shelter that it gave. In ThunderClan territory, there were always some trees to hide behind, or a clearing to nestle in. He missed the warmth of Sunningrocks, and the closeness in the apprentices' den. He missed standing before Highrock, gazing up at the moon. Barley's territory was at the edge of the WindClan moors.
Ravenpaw shivered as the wind buffeted through his fur and disheveled it. He stopped to give his shoulder a quick grooming, but it was no use--the wind quickly blew it out of place again.
Barley turned around and laughed, not cruelly like Tigerclaw, but with an amused tone. It seemed that Barley was often and easily amused.
"You can't get you're pelt to stick down like that in the moors," he meowed, his voice kind and understanding, "and you're long fur will make all this wind uncomfortable. A long coat isn't necessary since we have the barn. But don't worry," he added, when Ravenpaw was starting to feel disheartened, "after Leafbare, it'll grow back shorter."
Ravenpaw purred. "Thank you, Barley," he meowed, "I really appreciate this."
Barley smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's no problem, Ravenpaw," he meowed, "I think it'll be nice having company around this old barn. And you'll turn into a fine ratter. You have the makings of the best. Fleet paws. Keen eyes."
The black-furred tom felt warmth seep through him for the first time he had been in Barley's Farm. First foreign and afraid of its vastness, Ravenpaw had felt homesick for the comfort of his friends and his mighty leader, Bluestar. But living in the forest was no longer a possibility for the apprentice; he knew in a part of him that Tigerclaw would be looking for him.
Barley had turned back to lead the apprentice back to his barn, but Ravenpaw stood still for a minute, lifting his head high to the wind. He unsheathed his claws and stretched out his aching muscles, and he bared his teeth, eyes bright. "When you come for me, Tigerclaw," he meowed quietly, his voice quivering with emotion, "I'll be ready. You hear that? I'll be ready!"
xxx
"I see that Ravenpaw had adjusted to life with Barley. That's pleasing," meowed a dark red tortoiseshell with a distinctive red pelt.
A dark black tom with amber eyes responded with a snarl. "My son, a ThunderClan apprentice, has grown up to be a loner?" he unsheathed his claws and he shook his head with anger. "Goldenflower has raised him all wrong!"
A golden tom stepped out from the stars, his eyes glimmering. "Darkheart, you know that is not true. Goldenflower has been an excellent mother to Ravenpaw. He was unable to stay in ThunderClan because Tigerclaw would have killed him!"
The red tortoiseshell meowed next. "Lionheart is right, Darkheart. Goldenflower was a fine mother. But if Ravenpaw had stayed, your son would have been killed."
The dark tom flicked his ears. "I would rather my son die a noble death rather than he run away. If he had learned anything about fighting and the warrior code, he would be able to fight off Tigerclaw. He is a coward and a weakling!"
The red tortoiseshell flicked his ears angrily. "Darkheart, Lionheart and I were also killed at Tigerclaw's greedy claws. Ravenpaw surely cannot fight him off. This was what StarClan had in store for Ravenpaw, and he did good in accepting his fate."
Darkheart looked away angrily, disappointment showing in his eyes.
Lionheart flicked his tail at his friend. Darkheart and Tigerclaw had been close friends; they had been the trio back in their time; Darkstripe, Tigerclaw, and himself, Darkheart.
The three toms stood shoulder-to-shoulder, gazing down at Barley's farm from the ranks of StarClan.
"Ravenpaw will have to face Tigerclaw eventually. I know him better than any cat; he's vicious and bitter, and he can't let go. He won't forget Ravenpaw, either. And when the time comes for the two of them to face it off, Ravenpaw will be torn to pieces. Ravenpaw will die at Tigerclaw's paws, just like you, Redtail, and you, Lionheart. Ravenpaw will not stand a chance against Tigerclaw."
Author's Note: This chapter is sort of a transitional chapter, to let you know more about Ravenpaw's new life. Yes, it was a little boring, I promise it won't be next time. More to come!