Well, hello! I haven't updated this in a while!
Flintclaw padded into camp after his dusk patrol, and found the other cats already asleep. Of course, he thought, They have no energy to do anything else as they starve to death! Oh, great and mighty leader, how will you save us? He thought bitterly. His sister nudged his shoulder.
"What makes you look like you just ate a sour vole?" The brown she-cat asked, the red-ish tint to her pelt invisible in the darkening camp. Flintclaw sighed.
"Nothing, Rosefur. Just thinking." He waved her away with his tail.
"Oh, you're always thinking." She mewed bitterly, "About your mate, about your duties, about your kits, do you ever think about me? Talk to me? Oh, no…" She muttered.
"Well, as deputy, I-" Flintclaw replied irritably, and Rosefur rolled her golden eyes.
"As deputy! I'm deputy! Hush up, Rosefur, I can't talk, I'm busy because I'm deputy! Is that all you ever say?" She asked.
"Of course not!" Flintclaw argued, affronted.
"Really?" His sister growled.
"Try me." He huffed.
"Alright, why are you so grumpy?" Rosefur inquired, blocking his path to the warrior's den. There's no escape now…He thought.
"I'm thinking, I told you. I don't want my kits to die! I mean, look at this!" He ranted, gesturing to the freshkill pile.
"Look at what?" His littermate asked.
"Exactly! There's nothing! Nothing at all! There's no food, the stream's drying up, I haven't seen rain in moons. Rosefur, do you want to live like this?" He growled.
"Well, what else can we do? It's not like there's any place to go. This is our home." The brown she-cat mewed uncertainly. Flintclaw opened his mouth to reply, and thought better of it. Weeds.
"Well, I'll be thinking. And trust me, I'll find something better," He hinted, "My kits will not die. I'll be sure of that." The black and orange tabby shot his sister a look, which her took with a healthy dose of confusion. Leaving her to ponder his words, Flintclaw padded toward the nursery. Poor Hopetail must get lonely. I'm always so busy. I miss her. I wish she stayed in the warrior's den longer. But we should put the kits first. I'll always put them first. I hope they look like her. His dark amber eyes adjusted to the pitch-black light of the nursery as her poked his head in, and his mate's golden pelt shone in the faint beams of moonlight that peeked through gaps in the dry walls. He crept in quietly, careful not to wake her. Her scent met his nose and he sighed, thinking back to blissful nights pent by the stream, alone together, the light of the moon and the cool feeling of rain…he remembered it well. Settling down by her side in the nest of crumbling, dry moss, he swore to himself he would make it more comfortable tomorrow. For tonight, he would stay by her side. Curling around Hopetail, listening to her slow breaths as she inclined her head and twined her tail unconsciously with his, Flintclaw decided the night couldn't be any more perfect. And it will stay like this. Always. He thought sleepily, resting his head on her shoulder and drifting to sleep.
"What are you thinking about?" Leopardmask mused, licking Snowstar's ears gently as the tom stared at the wall intently; as if something were inscribed invisibly on the stone and he were straining to find it.
"Hmm?" He murmured, looking up at her, losing himself in her gaze. The golden flecks gleamed like stars in the dark ochre.
"I said: what are you thinking about?" She mewed teasingly. Snowstar smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry. I guess I'm just…that dream was really strange. I tried to talk to Goldendawn about it but she was so busy. It's nearly time for Wolfpaw's ceremony, and three cats have come down with Sun fever just today. They're low on mallow root. The stream is drying up, too. And prey is getting in even shorter supply. Flintclaw is restless, I can tell, as are the others. And with new kits coming…and the dream, too…or did I already say that?" Snowstar asked, frazzled. Leopardmask laughed lightly.
"You certainly do have a lot on your mind then." She sighed, nuzzling him, "Anything I can do?"
"Well…you could ease one of my worries." Snowstar grinned, pulling his mate down into his nest. The spotted she-cat laughed and curled up against his, resting her head on his chest as he lay on his back, staring into his ice-blue eyes.
"Anything." She purred.
"Well…have you changed your mind? About kits?" He asked hopefully. Leopardmask sighed immediately and rolled away, back to him, to the other side of the nest.
"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. I'm just-I'm not the mother type. I can't give our kits what they need." She groaned.
"You'd be a wonderful mother! I can see it. You'd be the best, Leopardmask. You'd know just how to make them feel special, I know it." Snowstar countered softly.
"And are you crazy? Kits when you're complaining about sickness and lack of food and water?" Leopardmask went on, rolling over and looking her mate in the eyes.
"Please?" Snowstar sighed.
"I don't know. I'll think about it." The speckled she-cat murmured, curling into him.
"Okay." He purred sweetly, "Now get some sleep. Wouldn't want you to be asleep on your paws tomorrow, hm? I love you."
"No, we wouldn't. Goodnight." She whispered, closing her eyes. As her breaths slowed, and her heartbeat grew steady against his chest, Snowstar lay awake.
She never said she loved me, too. He thought.
"Good morning, lovely! Rise and shine!" Flintclaw cooed happily in Hopetail's ear. She batted him away with a playful paw.
"Oh, stop it, you old codger! Let me get some sleep!" She chuckled, voice raspy as she was prodded awake.
"You've slept all night, wake up!" Flintclaw laughed, nuzzling her belly, "It's good to go for a walk, y'know."
"Oh, is it now?" Hopetail murmured, eyes closed, covering her face with a golden paw.
"Yes, sleeping beauty. Goldendawn says it helps if the queen is in shape during kitbirth."
"Since when were you so knowledgeable?" The queen mused, opening her eyes, and gazing lovingly at her mate.
"Since a few moments ago! Come on, we'll get out before the others wake up, and I'll make it back in time for patrols." Flintclaw urged.
"It's dawn?!" Hopetail shrieked.
"Shh! Technically, you'd call it pre-dawn." Flintclaw grinned.
"Great Starclan…" Hopetail muttered.
"Up, up, up!" He laughed. The golden queen groaned and pulled herself to her paws.
"I can't believe I'm doing this." She muttered.
"I can't believe you are either! I thought you were going to sleep forever!" Flintclaw exclaimed.
"Well, maybe it's because of you, but I had sweet dreams last night," She purred, pressing against him, "Slept like a kitten."
"I hope they sleep like they're supposed to!" Flintclaw mewed, glancing at his mate's round belly, "They might cause you many sleepless nights."
"Oh, they don't wriggle much. I'm sure they'll be fine." Hopetail laughed, amused at her mate's concern. The two purred and left camp, the sun just barely peeking up through the purple-blue light seeping along the inky sky.
Snowstar woke, once again, before his mate. Leopardmask looked so peaceful, so gentle curled up in his nest. He couldn't bear to wake such an angel. He stretched and left his den, only to find a few of his warriors roaming camp impatiently. Where's Flintclaw?
"Alright, Tangledbriar, you take Ravenwing and Cloudpatch to see what you can find along the stream. Sunflame, take the apprentices out for a group session with Skyheart. Nightstripe, wake Rosefur and Turtleshine for dawn patrol." Snowstar instructed. It felt strange to give orders like this, and demand things get done by his clanmates. He held himself as he remembered his grandfather had, and the way Darkpool had taught him to. As if he were all knowing. All-powerful. Flintclaw was so good at this…where is he? He wondered. The deputy was nowhere to be seen. Alright, whatever. I can do this. You weren't made leader for nothing, Snowstar. He chided himself. As he continued assigning cats to patrols, he felt far more comfortable.
See? This isn't so bad…He thought cheerfully as he began to ease into the flow of the early morning. A silky tail brushed his, throwing off his concentration.
"Good morning," Leopardmask purred softly in his ear, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Snowstar turned momentarily toward her, licked her forehead, and murmured:
"Not now, love, I'm a little busy. Maybe later? We could go hunting, go the two of us?" He offered. Leopardmask pouted.
"But-"
"Leopardmask," Snowstar meowed sternly. She sighed.
"Oh, fine. Hunting sounds fine." She huffed.
"What's the matter?" Snowstar asked, concerned.
"Nothing! Oh, everything's fine! Dandy!" She exclaimed angrily, stomping away.
"If you don't talk to me about it, then how can I help you?" Snowstar called after her irritably.
"Leave me alone!" She shouted, back turned, as she stalked toward the camp exit. Her pounding footsteps caused clouds of grit and dust to plume upward, the elders coughing.
"Fine!" He growled.
"Fine!" She snarled, whipping around, golden flecked-dark amber eyes glowing. As Leopardmask vanished from camp and the last patrol left, Snowstar was left alone with the elders. Slumping into the dirt, he groaned.
"Trouble, Snowstar?" Flowertail asked gently, her ancient voice raspy.
"I don't even know what to think about her anymore!" He sighed, burying his face in his snow-colored paws. Then, lifting his head, his ice blue eyes met the elder's lemon yellow ones.
"One moment, she's so sweet and kind and loving, the next it's like I'm sharing a den with a temperamental badger!" He growled, pounding a paw down on the dirt and sending it into the air, ferocious force causing it to scatter everywhere. Flowertail coughed again.
"It isn't easy, trust me, I know that," The large tan she-cat meowed, "I remember when Pikefoot was alive, oh, we'd argue like there was no tomorrow! But in the end, everything turned out beautifully, dear. We had three lovely kits. I only wish they were here with me now."
"That's the point! She has no desire for kits! All she wants is- I don't even know what she wants!" Snowstar growled.
"True love has no boundaries, no unknowns, and is all but futile. When the moment comes, you'll know where your heart belongs." Longstripes advised.
"But I know what I want! I want to spend the rest of my life with her, I want to have kits, I want to be able to lie under the moonlight and know that she'll be there when I wake up! Is that so much to ask?" He wondered.
"Remember, young'un, she has her wants too." Longstripes said softly before padding away to the elder's den with Flowertail to escape the blazing sun. Snowstar grumbled in annoyance. I know I love her. Isn't that all that matters? What else is there?
It had been two moons since Flintclaw had thought of his plan to save the Clan, and since his kits had been born. The large orange and black tom purred whenever any cat mentioned his two little ones, Swiftkit and Cloverkit. They were the lights of his life, other than Hopetail. Though they were still too small to leave the nursery and play outside, he always visited. Swiftkit was a feisty little white tom with dark blue, almost black eyes. His sister, Cloverkit, was ginger and white, and sweet as honey. Flintclaw adored them both.
Today, Flintclaw had to take over assigning patrols, again, because Snowstar was arguing with Leopardmask. He swore they were always at each other's throats now. Even more proof that Snowstar is an incompetent leader; he lets his personal problems get in the way of leading his clan. Flintclaw had noticed that the two fought before, but it became even more pronounced after Hopetail had kitted. His mate had told him that Snowstar desperately wanted kits, but Leopardmask refused, saying she didn't need the constant complaints and extra work that comes with being a mother. Flintclaw couldn't help but admire the spunk that the dappled she-cat had, though it made him feel guilty whenever he thought of her instead of Hopetail. Hopetail is my love. Our kits are the brightest sparks in my life, and she is my fire.
Shaking his head, he kept sorting patrols. He had begun to have to send out twice the amount of hunting patrols because it was now Leafbare and there was so little prey to be found. That, added to the poor skills of some of the kittypet warriors, meant that the Clan was growing hungrier and hungrier everyday. Even Hailstorm, whose thick, glossy, fluffy white fur made him look plump all season, looked emaciated, his ribs clearly defined through his snowy pelt. Flintclaw himself was weaker, for all his prey he gave to Hopetail and the elders.
"Hey!" Flintclaw heard a tiny squeak from the corner of camp by the nursery. Pausing his activity, he rushed over the thick, bramble covered den. A little orange and white shape sat mewling outside the entrance.
"Cloverkit! Sweetheart, what in Starclan's name are you doing out her? You'll freeze! You're not even supposed to be out of the nursery yet, you-you're not even a moon old" He fussed over the tiny she-cat, covering her in swift licks. Her kit-soft pelt stuck up where his tongue touched it, and his daughter mewled pitifully.
"Daddy! Swiftkit pushed me! I was only looking outside, and he pushed me!" Cloverkit mewed unhappily. "And it hurt, too!" She held up a dainty white paw. "I landed on it funny and now it hurts real bad!" Flintclaw touched his nose to it gently and she flinched. Worried, he lifted his little daughter up in his jaws, hurrying her to the medicine cat's den.
"Goldendawn! Goldendawn!" He called through Cloverkit's scruff. Wolfpaw was by his side in an instant, pale brown pelt ruffled, green leaf specks clinging to his one white paw.
"What happened? Is she coughing?" He asked nervously, dark eyes wide.
"Swiftkit's a meanie! He pushed me out of the den and I hurt my paw!" Cloverkit pouted. Wolfpaw purred, his shoulders relaxing as the tension was released. He looked relieved.
"I'm glad that's all it is." He chuckled.
"It's not funny!" Cloverkit squeaked indignantly. She shifted on the ground unhappily, little white paw held high in the air, ginger and white tail swishing about the den floor.
"Of course it's not." Flintclaw soothed her, shooting Wolfpaw a hard stare. The young brown tom looked away, ashamed.
"Here," Wolfpaw said, getting over his embarrassment and snatching a small black seed from a shallow dip in the ground. He gently nipped it in half and passed one of the halves to Flintclaw. "Have her eat this. She's too small for a whole poppy seed, so have her eat this. It will take away the pain, but make her pretty sleepy. Come back if it still hurts later." Wolfpaw said to Cloverkit. She obediently ate the fragment of seed and yawned almost immediately. Flintclaw gently picked up his daughter by the scruff of her neck and brought her back to the nursery.
"So that's where she went! What did you do? Why's she-" Hopetail asked worriedly as Flintclaw set their kit down gently in the nest. She was already dozing.
"You, my little warrior, have got some explaining to do!" Flintclaw exclaimed, looking down at Swiftkit sternly.
"What'd I do?" He squeaked innocently.
"Don't push your sister out of the nest again, okay? Save that for the real enemies!" Flintclaw chuckled, cuffing the little white tom over the head gently. Hopetail laughed.
"As long as that's all it is! You had me worried, Flintclaw, bringing her in like that!" The golden tabby glanced down at her daughter; now snuggle up in the curve of her belly. Cloverkit was fast asleep. Flintclaw smiled, and returned to his job of sorting patrols after giving his mate a quick lick.
"I'll visit again later." He murmured.
As he finished with his duties, the young warrior Nightstripe padded past the deputy.
"Morning, Flintclaw. Not out on patrol? That's unlike you." The brown tom mewed, muscles rippling under his pelt streaked through with flashes of black as he turned. Flintclaw admired his former apprentice's strength. I trained you well. But he frowned when he noticed that the tom's ribs peeked through his streaked pelt, and his face was far more drawn.
He's starving. Flintclaw realized. Of course, the rest of Moonclan was starving too. Flintclaw himself hadn't had a bite to eat in three days. Every cat was bitter and angry, with tempers short and patience low. Now, Flintclaw! He thought. It has been long enough. You can no longer be torn apart by your clan's suffering. You must begin the stalk with stealth. You are the hunter! The weeds will be left behind soon enough.
"Oh, I probably should...you know the hunting patrols haven't been bringing back much prey these past moons." He leaned in, as if to speak confidentially with the other warrior. "I've noticed that patrols led by Hailstorm and Skyheart particularly have been coming up short. I wonder why that could be?" Flintclaw mused quietly. The deputy stood and watched the wheels turning in Nightstripe's head.
Come on, I didn't train you to be dull, boy! He thought impatiently. Flintclaw, easy, wait in the weeds. He reminded himself.
"Do you think it could be because...because they are-kittypets?" The dark tom asked, whispering the last word. Finally. I knew you'd get there eventually.
"Or at least have kittypet heritage. They are certainly not pure Clan blood, like us." Flintclaw mews. "In fact, that reason was what I had suspected. What do you think?"
"It's quite possible...They don't have the natural skills of warriors pure of blood." Nightstripe meowed, his eyes widening as he realized what this meant.
"We would be stronger without them wouldn't we? Less mouths to feed, eliminate the untalented...it would all work out." Flintclaw purred. Nightstripe, who had at first seemed doubtful, nodded.
"It would be perfect. Only the best for Moonclan!" The young tom declared. As he walked away to greet the returning border patrol, he called back to the deputy "I'll help you Flintclaw! Only the strongest are meant to survive. We can help these cats along no more." Flintclaw nodded and felt a purr of satisfaction well up in his throat. He pushed it down. Two warriors will not solve this issue alone. My work is not done yet.
This is the third official rewrite! Wow! Rewriting is lot harder than writing normally, I'll tell you that.
Lots of love, see you next time!
-Bright