I realized something while I was writing this chapter. Well, while I was researching more on ShadowClan, really... there was already another Yellowstar! Grrr... I was researching leaders and naming ceremonies, and, lo and behold in the roster of leaders, was the name Yellowstar under the ShadowClan leaders. Quite the coincidence, eh? Found it in a wikia entry.
Replying to reviewers!
To Cinderstar377: Thank you! I think a part of my died a little when I killed her off. I try my best to make sure each chapter is interesting.
To Blazzer12: Thankies. I update as often as possible. Right now, this story is fun to write, so I'm ahead on chapters (that's right, I actually have more chapters sitting unposted in my computer,)
We get to see even more good ol' Yellowstar personality, and Ravenscorch personality! Joy of joys. And, I get to set Spits after him again ;)
-O-
"It should seem you've befriended Spitkit. Not that I'm surprised, he always is trying to make friends," Yellowstar said, thumping her tail lightly on the floor of her den, "He's so annoying though, it's hard for him to keep them,"
Ravenscorch stared at the ground, his mind still in turmoil. He looked up when one of the guards behind him growled, "This cat hardly thinks you called him to speak of kits, ma'am," he couldn't help but lapse into the formal speech. He had been raised to do so in the presence of a leader.
Yellowstar frowned at his strange way of talking, and shrugged, "No, I don't suppose I did bring you here for that. After all, I wanted answers,"
"Then this cat would like it if you hurried up with questioning, so he may go back to slowly dieing,"
She bared her teeth in annoyance, "Alright, then I'll start. Why did you kill the kits?"
He slipped from the formal language, "My... squad was told to,"
"Who told you to?"
"A WindClan patrol," he lied smoothly. There was no way he was going to betray AssassinClan.
"Who in the patrol?"
He thought back to his memories of stalking the Clans in his younger, wilder days, before he joined AssassinClan. It would have to be someone he saw when they were apprentices...
"I didn't know his name. He was black, missing an ear, a few red markings, a kinked tail,"
"Snapjaw... I should have known he'd be up to this. He's been too ambitious since he was made WindClan deputy..."
Ravenscorch quietly let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. It had worked.
"And now, back to you. Where do you hail from, surely not any Clan in the area?" Yellowstar laid down, looking confident with herself.
"I was a kittypet," this wasn't really a lie, "I turned rogue, and I've been scouting around for a few seasons. I picked up my crew along the way,"
"You have a warriors' name. As did your mate, how did you get those?"
Ravenscorch cursed himself for not thinking of that, and pieced together an explanation, "My mother lived near the lake a long while ago, near the horseplace... only stayed long enough to take shelter in a storm, and left. While she was there, she met a few... what are they called, barn cats? They worshiped the Clans, and my mother liked Clan names, so she named me and my brother Clan names. Dawnshadow," he let his stump tail fall, and sighed, "Her name was Floof when I met her. She hated her name, so she changed it when I told her mine. She liked the Clan naming system," phew, what a complicated mouthful.
Yellowstar narrowed her eyes, and crossed her paws, "I see... what was you're brother's name?"
What? Why was that important? "Mother called him Bark-kit, ma'am,"
"Hmm," she grunted, "You and your cats smelled of pine and conifers. You must live near us,"
"No, we traveled a lot, going from place to place, finding shelter in exchange for assassin work... we were hirefangs, if you must," Ravenscorch dipped his head, feeling annoyed with the questions, "Now, are we done here? I would like to die without any more prodding,"
Yellowstar sighed and nodded, "Go if you must, then. Take him back to his nest," the two guards ushered him out.
-O-
"Ravenscorch! What did she want?" Spits squeaked, bouncing all around the tom as he laid back down in his nest.
"Nothing that involves you," he retorted.
Spitkit stopped bouncing for a moment, a serious expression on his tiny kit face, "Everything involves me," he said, struggling to keep his face strait.
"I'm going to be an apprentice soon," Spits said suddenly, flumping down on his tail, "I wonder who my mentor will be... did you ever have an apprentice?"
"Once,"
"Cool... um, is that all you're gonna say?"
"Yes. Go away,"
"No,"
"There's a lovely hole somewhere just calling your name, kid,"
"And there's a pair of fangs calling yours," Spitkit shot back.
Ravenscorch glanced at the fluffy kit, a spark of amusement running through him, "Touche. You've won this duel,"
"Does that mean I can stay?"
"No,"
-O-
Ravenscorch padded along the beaten path, running swiftly. A messenger had just come, telling him it was urgent to get back to his hollow. A sinking feeling awoke in his gut when the path suddenly changed, turning to a whole new direction. He broke off of the path, and scrabbled up a tree, swinging himself onto a bridge.
He picked up the pace, hearing a loud wail pierce the air. Dawnshadow. He ran, paws thumping like pistons, desperate to reach his nest. Something glinted in the trees, a pair of amber shine spots here and there. He looked over his shoulder. They were eyes.
His tree loomed just ahead, the nest he had claimed for himself resting at the highest point possible on the trunk.
Ravenscorch dashed inside, a dark wall slamming against the outside of the hollow. Had it been following him?
"Dawnshadow? Where are you?" he called, wandering deeper into the large hollow.
"Right here," he whirled at the melodious sound of her purr.
"What did you need?" he asked, bumping noses with her.
"I had my kits... I thought you'd like to see them,"
Ravenscorch opened his eyes wide in surprise, "I missed the birth?" he asked, feeling guilty.
She gave him a strange look, "No... you were here, but you had to go after the first was born, love,"
"I did?" he didn't remember it.
She laughed softly, and pulled her fluffy tail away from her side, reveling four squirming bundles, "I think you've been on night hunt for a little too long. You took poor Doeleap's position after that squirrel she brought in,"
Ravenscorch mumbled something, and pushed his nose down next to his kits. His. Kits. They mewled softly, kneading at their mother's belly. They were all a uniform grayish color, which would darken into the common AssassinClan black with age. One of them, the smallest, however, was different. Her fur, though gray, had a funny blue tint to it, a long orange stripe running from tailtip to nosetip.
"I wanted to call her Lightkit... maybe suggest to Novastar to call her Lightflower when she earns her rank... I don't know about the toms though..." she fretted.
"We'll figure it out, together... why don't they turn their faces to us, love?" Ravenscorch had noticed that none of them turned their muzzles up to squeak.
"Because, they want to hid them. They don't need to breathe, so they don't need to put their noses up, silly," obviously Dawnshadow thought this was normal.
"Hide their faces? Not breathe? Love, they need to breathe, or they'll die," Ravenscorch could feel cold terror building. Where was it coming from?
She sneezed a laugh, "You don't need to breathe when you're dead, sweetheart... here, let's see if I can get Lightkit to look at you..." Dawnshadow pulled a paw from underneath one of the squirming toms, and put it gently under her daughter's chin. She lifted up, and Ravenscorch blanched.
His daughter's face was a skull. A bloody, oozing, dripping skull. Ragged lumps of gray fur dotted the face, hanging on by small chunks of skin... and her eyes... white with red pupils... like Novastar's...
The kit mewled, the stench of death and dieing wafting from her muzzle.
"Wh-what happened to her?!" Ravenscorch stuttered, backing away quickly.
Suddenly, they were in the clearing the ShadowClan cats had caught them.
"Don't you remember? They killed us both when we were finishing the mission,"
Ravenscorch looked panicked, "What? I- I... you're not dead... you're right here in front of me!"
"Sweetheart, I was dead at the beginning of that mission... this is a dream," Dawnshadow said softly.
"One you need to wake up from,"
Ravenscorch looked down. The four kits were looking at him. They had spoken, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Ancestors, help me!"
"Wake up, dear. It's time to wake,"
"Nonononononono..."
"Wake up!"
A paw prodded him in the side, and Ravenscorch opened his eyes, pupils huge and wide. He looked up. It was Budshell, come with another rat.
"Wake up you crazy moron. I brought you food," Budshell hissed, tossing the rat down at his paws. It had been two days since he had last eaten. Two days since Dawnshadow had been killed.
"I don't want it," Ravenscorch said gruffly, standing up to stretch. He doubled back down when his stomach growled and twisted painfully, "Don't need it,"
"Too bad. Yellowstar decided to put you on a trial today at the gathering... StarClan knows why she wants the other Clans to know about this, considering we still have yet to attack WindClan... I don't think she'd be too happy if you died before we got there," the she-cat said with a low sigh, "I think I'd be so happy I myself would die if you drowned in the lake,"
Ravenscorch flattened his ears, and hissed at her, "Well, you may just die tonight,"
She bared her fangs at him, then shook her head, "Why am I arguing with you? You're going to be crow-food soon enough anyways," she hmmfed at him, and turned tail, leaving Ravenscorch to stare at the rat.
He flicked it away with a claw, knowing if it was too close he'd eat it.
It was morning, early morning. He must have fallen asleep sometime after Spitkit had left him be. Speaking of the little brat... where had he gone off to?
"You really should eat, you know,"
Ah, speak of the devil.
Ravenscorch licked at his paws, deciding to clean the blood from them. He would leave the matting on his chest alone, it was the last physical piece of Dawnshadow he had left.
"Don't want it," he argued instantly. For once, he actually, just a little, enjoyed making the kit huff at him.
Spits looked dismayed, and sighed, "Please? Come on, it's your last meal before you're put on trial at the Gathering! Do you really want to die on an empty stomach? I hear if that happens to you'll have super bad tummy cramps when you go to StarClan,"
Ravenscorch perked his ears, "You think I'm going to StarClan?" if that was their version of the Ancestors' territory...
"Yep! You didn't kill those kits, it was WindClan. You did it because you didn't want to die, because Novastar was going to kill you and your mate if you failed," he said nonchalantly, licking at his paw.
His eyes went wide, and he snapped at the kit, fangs bared, "Who told you about Novastar?!" he snarled.
Spits stumbled back, his fur pricking, "Y-you did! In your sleep! You were mumbling about her killing you if you messed up,"
Ravenscorch let his lips fall over his teeth, noticing the stares he was getting from the nearby cats. Some were of hatred, others of fear... and surprisingly, some were of curiosity, "Kid, don't you breathe a word of this to your leader, ever!If she finds out that I have my own Clan... things will get very messy, very fast. I'd hate to see you end up as one of Novastar's cloak patches," he said, leaning in a little to hiss at the kit.
Spits nodded enthusiastically, "Don't worry, I wont tell," then his face lit up in a grin, "Sooo, you do care about me! Ha! I told Snifflekit that you and me were friends! That'll show her!"
"Whatever," Ravenscorch said, finally deciding the rat looked edible. He gulped it down faster than he thought possible.
"I gotta go, Ravenscorch, I have stuff to do... I hope you do well at your trial!" the kit mewed at him cheerily before bounding away in search of fun.
That's when it hit Ravenscorch. He was going on a trial... Yellowstar would most defiantly accuse WindClan of sending him, and then WindClan would protest! He would be killed outright just for lying and almost causing a battle. This. Was. Bad.
His thoughts and emotions swirled inside his head, conflicting and screaming at him. He wanted to run... no, he wanted to stay, maybe if they killed him, he would see his mate again before death! But, she wouldn't want him to just die. Would she?
"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the High Branch for a Clan meeting!"
Cats all around the Camp looked up at the sudden yowl from their leader. Yellowstar was standing up on a large branch overhanging the Camp. Ravenscorch watched with dulled interest, his mind still wandering. Cats gathered, mumbling amongst themselves.
Yellowstar settled herself comfortably on her haunches, and spoke in a loud and proud voice, "Spitkit, Adderkit, Gravelkit, step forward," there was an assorted mumbling again- "What, she's actually going to do this?" "An apprentice? Really? I never thought I'd get rid of him!" Ravenscorch quickly surmised that what the young one had said was true. Most cats did dislike him.
"This is a proud day for ShadowClan! When we name apprentices, we show that ShadowClan will remain strong and survive through the hardest of times," Yellowstar leaped down from the branch, and looked around to all the surrounding cats, "Gravelkit, from this day forth, until you earn your warrior name, you shall be known as Gravelpaw. Feathersong, I think it's about time for you to have another apprentice, you will be Gravelpaw's mentor. I know you will pass on your wisdom and strength to him, and teach him the skills he needs to be a brave warrior to ShadowClan,"
Feathersong, a small, lithe looking she-cat with odd calico splotches, padded forward, a twinkle in her eye. She touched noses with Gravelpaw, and the brown apprentice shivered with delight.
"Adderkit, from this day forth, until your warrior name is earned by hard work and loyalty, you will be known as Adderpaw. Smolderpelt, you've been looking rather bored of late, you will be his mentor. I know you'll definitely pass on your quick wit and fierceness to him, and teach him loyalty and respect," Ravenscorch noticed how much the leader stressed 'loyalty'. The young one looked like a pawful.
After the two touched noses, Yellowstar sighed, not looking too excited for the next naming, "Spitkit, I now, with a heavy heart, call you Spitpaw until you- maybe- earn your warrior name. Singewhisker, you will be the young one's apprentice. I have a feeling you'll put some sense into him, and rid him of his naivety," Ravenscorch grimaced. This cat was ruthless, not even Novastar was this mean in namings.
Spitpaw, looking less than happy, padded up to his new mentor, a cruel looking orange tabby tom, and tried to reach up to touch noses with him. Singewhisker made a disgusted look, and pulled away, "Do I really have to touch noses with this one?" he asked his leader snottily.
She gave him a firm scowl, "Yes, or StarClan will have our guts for fox bait,"
Spitpaw, now looking more down, reached up to touch noses again. Singewhisker held his nose a little lower, but Spitpaw had to stretch to bump his nose. The second they touched, Singewhisker pulled away, and rubbed his muzzle in the ground, wiping his nose with a paw.
"Gross," he muttered.
Ravenscorch could feel the very beginnings of anger stirring in his stomach. This was a special day for the apprentice, not a punishment! He watched Spits' siblings as they bounced around their mentors, asking what to do first. Spitpaw looked up at Singewhisker.
"So, what're we gonna do first?" he asked.
"We? Kid, I took you as my apprentice, don't push your luck," Singewhisker smirked, pushing him away with a paw.
Ravenscorch stood up, and stepped outside of his nest, "You don't need to be such a badger to the little snot," he defended, whiskers trembling.
"Ravenscorch, don't-" Spitpaw protested.
"Oh? Says the kit murderer? If he had been in the nursery when you and your little buddies came, you would have killed him all the same," the snarly tom growled.
"True. But, that is 'if'. That 'if' didn't happen, cat. Let's not talk about what could have happened, and what's happening now. What did the poor fluff ball do to you to make him so hated?" his voice was even, not a note too high or low.
"Well... um... have you looked at him? He's stupid, no brains at all in him. And annoying!" a few cats laughed and purred at the exclamation, "No one likes him just because he gets on nerves,"
"Like you're being right now? He's an apprentice, barely older than a kit, and it makes you feel high and mighty to bad mouth him? That's some real cunning there, outwording and shaming a six mooner,"
Singewhisker, obviously knowing he was losing, growled low at the Assassin, "I don't have to prove myself to you," he said, his claws flashing from his paws.
"True. But what about your Ancestors? I'm sure they won't be too pleased to have you when you come, after ridiculing this one and depressing him. Then again, Dark Forest always has more room,"
The cat snarled and lurched towards him, claws unsheathed, teeth bared, "I'll teach you to disrespect a warrior!" he roared, bringing his paw down. Yet again, Ravenscorch was left with another bleeding mark. Blood dripped into his eye from the long cut over his brow, and some dripped off his chin from the bridge of his nose.
"Ravenscorch!" Spitpaw gasped.
"That's enough, Singewhisker!"
There was a grumble from the ShadowClan cats when Yellowstar stepped in.
"But Yellowstar!" he whined, "He deserved it!"
Yellowstar flattened her ears angrily and showed her fangs. Singewhisker cowered low on the ground, tail tucked, "So? I need him intact for the Gathering! Now he has leverage against us for defending the apprentice, and you striking him for it! He can use it to soften up the other Clans' hearts!" she yowled at him, "I oughta rip your pelt from your bones for your foolishness!"
And all the time she raged, Spitpaw was pushed up against Ravenscorch in terror, the older cat's blood dripping onto his head. If Ravenscorch had a tail, he'd wrap it around the shivering apprentice.
After a moment, the leader's fur lay flat, and she shook her pelt, still looking peeved, "I still need to choose who will go to the Gathering this night. New apprentices- including Spitpaw- will go with their mentors. I want Hollydance, Twoclaw, Stumpgrowl, Snakerash, Grintooth, and Lightpool as well as Ashstream to accompany me to the Gathering tonight. Ravenscorch, I suggest you make your amends with whatever ancestors you pray to,"
Ravenscorch pawed Spitpaw away, the youngling looking both thankful and hurt, and his muzzle twitched with the ghost of a grin, "No problem,"
-O-
W00t! Go Ravenscorch, standing up for poor Spitpaw! I love Spits, he's gonna be an awesome plushie! (Not that I can make plushies...v.v) Maybe a pillow design? So, Yellowstar flips out a little, and I assume we're all going to hate Singewhisker soon? Good... hate and plot... hate and plot... R&R, with a cookie on the side? (what's with me and bribing you people with interweb cookies...)