So here we are, once again. Oh, what's this, you say? It's not Sunday? Huh. Funny how that works.
Well. Don't let me delay you any further.
The RiverClan border reeks of fish and the river and salt. Everything has the appearance of dampness; green leaves glimmer faintly with morning dew, and my paws are soaked by the time Tallstar and I reach the border. We're at WindClan's end of the old wooden bridge, since we can't swim across the river, but any patrol going by will be sure to see us.
Far below, the river churns and hisses at us. The musty scent of long-dead foliage reaches my nose, and I resist the urge to sneeze. This will take a long time getting used to.
Tallstar agreed to take me to the border and wait for a RiverClan patrol to pass. No one else came with us. Tallstar said it was because he didn't allow anyone else—he didn't want RiverClan to think we were some kind of threat—but I know better. The Clan didn't want to wish off someone who was betraying them. Even Redclaw had looked at me with that disappointed pain in his eyes before turning away this morning. He had barely managed to say goodbye and wish me luck, both in my apprenticeship and in meeting my family. I guess it must've been especially hard on him. I was his first apprentice.
Mudpaw walked most of the way with Tallstar and me at first, but then our leader flicked him over the ears with his long tail and fondly told him to go back to camp. My friend muttered something about wanting to check the RiverClan border—just in case—and after a little more prodding, finally left.
"It's still not too late if you want to go back," Tallstar says. "No one will blame you for wanting to meet your mother."
But they would blame me for wanting to leave the Clan, I reply silently. As they should. Strangely, though, I don't have any desire to go back.
Thankfully, it looks like most of RiverClan's territory is open fields. Maybe I'll get to run after all. I'm not sure how much hunting RiverClan does out in the open—I've always heard that they eat nothing but what they can fish for. I'll just have to hope for the best, I suppose. Maybe they'll be nice enough to let me skip fishing and allow me to chase rabbits for them instead.
Yeah. Right.
"I don't want to go back," I say, replying somewhat belatedly to Tallstar's previous comment. "I already decided that this is what I want to do, so I'll do it."
"What you want to do can change, you know," Tallstar says. "You don't have to bind yourself to past desires and decisions."
I don't answer, but secretly, I know that if I fully devoted myself to something like this, I would never go back on it. What good is a promise if you can't even keep one to yourself?
It isn't much longer before a RiverClan patrol comes. From the smell of it, there are four of them, and a few moments later, they come into view. One is a small gray-and-white tom, obviously an apprentice even from this distance, closely following a large white tom with brown paws. They're followed by a ginger she-cat and preceded by the only one of them I do recognize: Timberfur, RiverClan's brown-furred deputy.
The white tom notices us first and says something to Timberfur before inclining his head in our direction. Timberfur nods without taking his sharp eyes off Tallstar and me, then slowly pads across to his end of the bridge. "Tallstar," he says, nodding respectfully to WindClan's leader. Despite the politeness of his tone, it's easy to hear the silent threat, and yet, also an undeniable curiosity. Timberfur glances at me, then back to Tallstar. "How is the prey running in WindClan these days?"
"Well enough," Tallstar answers, equally as courteous. From just that, it's almost impossible to tell that prey is only just returning after the long leafbare. "And in RiverClan?"
"The same," Timberfur says. Now that the formalities are out of the way, he asks, "What are you doing here, Tallstar? I should hope you don't plan to start a border fight with just yourself and an apprentice."
"No, I'm afraid the thought hadn't crossed my mind," Tallstar says, his mouth quirking up at the corner. "Is Briarclaw here?"
Timberfur's eyes flash and he looks to me again. Obviously he's in the know. Just one more cat that knew when I didn't. "Why did you bring her kit here?"
"I want to join RiverClan," I say before Tallstar can speak for me. If anyone's going to voice my thoughts, it'll be me.
"You?" The apprentice demands, shifting my attention to where he and the rest of Timberfur's patrol are hanging back. The white tom says something in his ear and the apprentice looks to him incredulously. "But I bet he can't even swim!"
My ears burn, but not because he's right—every cat in WindClan is taught to swim in the river, just in case. We don't like it, but we can do it. After all, we have to defend our territory from RiverClan; what kind of warriors would we be if we couldn't even hold our own in the enemy's strongest element? No, not enemy, I have to remind myself. Not anymore.
If I were to say something along those lines right now, it probably wouldn't help my impression on who I hope will be my future Clanmates. Timberfur is still watching me, so I say, "I want to join my mother's Clan. I didn't know who she was until yesterday, or that I even had a sister, and I want to meet them."
"You would abandon your Clan for such selfish reasons?" Timberfur asks. From the spark in his eye, I can tell he's testing me.
"I'm half-Clan," I say, lifting my chin as the despicable word leaves my mouth, challenging anyone to contradict me. They don't. "RiverClan is my Clan as much as WindClan is, and I think I should have the right to choose between them. I didn't know I had a choice until yesterday, and once I found out, I made my decision."
"And if it's just a passing fancy?" Timberfur asks. "What if you decide that you don't like it in RiverClan? Will you return with the excuse that you belong to both equally?"
"Maybe it's a whim," I say. "Maybe it isn't. But I'll never know if I don't try, and I will always wonder. If RiverClan still rejects me after a moon has passed, then you can send me away, but please just give me a chance."
Timberfur stares down at me, his dark brown eyes boring into mine with a force that I'm afraid will drill a hole through my skull. Finally he gives a short, abrupt nod. "I will take you to Crookedstar. He can decide."
I let out a breath I hadn't even known I was holding, relieved and suddenly terrified at the same time. I'm going to RiverClan.
Tallstar dips his head to the deputy, saying, "My thanks, Timberfur."
"I don't know why you're thanking me," Timberfur says gruffly, turning his head. "It will be up to Crookedstar to decide. I'm just taking him there. Besides, I shouldn't think you'd be thanking me for taking away one of your Clanmates. I know how you get attached."
"All the same," Tallstar says, rising to his paws. His long, graceful tail sways from side to side slowly, ponderingly. "Good luck, Owlpaw. I hope you find what you're looking for."
"Thank you for your help," I say, suddenly hesitant. He's going to walk away, and then he won't be my leader anymore. He'll be a cat from another Clan, an enemy and rival. We'll never be able to talk like this, or like how we used to, again. "For everything."
Tallstar nods briefly and turns away, leaving me alone on WindClan's side of the border across the bridge. I let the scent of the Clan I grew up in wash over me one last time—the fresh grass and brambles, the cleansing wind that blows through my fur, rabbits and mice, the lingering traces of my former Clanmates. I pass over the bridge into RiverClan territory.
As soon as I step paw on the other side, I'm surprised to feel that the ground is full of the same springy grass as in WindClan. I guess I had expected cold hard ground, even though all I did was cross the river, but it's almost exactly the same. The air feels damp, but as we make our way at a brisk run through the fields, it fades for the most part.
The patrol hems me in—Timberfur leading, the large white tom behind me, and the apprentice and she-cat on either side. The fur on the back of the former's shoulders are bristling, and when he catches me glancing at him, he snaps, "Don't think you're in just because Timberfur was nice to you. We don't take mangy Clan-deserters."
"Splashpaw," the white tom loping behind me says sharply. I guess he must be Splashpaw's mentor; I can hear his long legs swishing through the grass behind me in long intervals.
"But Whitefang—"
"No excuses, or you'll be cleaning out the elders' den with Nightpaw."
Splashpaw mutters darkly to himself, too low for me to catch it, but apparently Whitefang hears him because he pulls up by Splashpaw's side and bats his ears. The she-cat on my left rolls her eyes with a small shake of her head. "Don't mind them. Owlpaw, was it?"
"Yeah," I answer. "I mean, yes, ma'am."
She lets out a low chuckle. "If you start calling me ma'am you'll make me feel old. I'm Mallowtail."
"Nice to meet you, Mallowtail," I say, carefully enunciating each word politely.
"So you said you didn't know your mother was RiverClan until yesterday, right?" she asks, not unkindly. "What happened for you to find out?"
"Rockfur died," I say quietly. Instantly, Splashpaw stops bickering with Whitefang and looks at me with a curious expression. His mentor falls back into place at the rear of our group while Timberfur gives no indication of having heard.
"I'm really sorry for your loss," Mallowtail says with a flick of one ear. Her blue eyes fill with shadows, as if she had personally known him. Maybe she had. "Briarclaw will take the news hard."
"Does she still love him?" I can't help but asking. "My father, I mean. Rockfur."
"Oh, Owlpaw," Mallowtail sighs. "She never stopped."
"Even once they stopped seeing each other?"
"Let me ask you something," Mallowtail says. "Did Rockfur ever stop loving her?"
"No," I say instantly. I think of all the stories he would tell me about her, always omitting the fact that she was in RiverClan, of course, but never losing their admiration and emotion. Time didn't matter, I once thought. It didn't change a cat's feelings for someone, even if it's been moons since they last saw one another. "No."
"Then there's your answer," Mallowtail teases, nudging me in the shoulder with her own. I lower my head so that I don't have to meet her eyes as I realize I might've just made my first friend in RiverClan.
Stubbly trees are dotted across the fields periodically. A pervading sense of wetness fills the air, mingled with the scent of freshly turned dirt and grass that reminds me of WindClan. RiverClan's strong, crisp scent has somewhat faded in my nose, more bearable now that I've been running straight through it for a little while. We stay within sight of the river for the most part, the slow murmuring of the water gently guiding us.
Gradually, the river begins to curve inwards until we reach a small split that runs straight across our path. Reeds surround what looks like an island in the very center of the small stream, blocking most of it from view but not enough to be able to mistake it for anything but RiverClan's camp. That, and the overwhelming scents of a multitude of cats is washing over me.
"Can you swim?" Timberfur asks, barely looking over his shoulder at me.
"Well enough," I answer, nervously eyeing the water we'll have to cross. It doesn't look fast-moving, but you can never tell until you're actually in it. Even without that, I hate the feeling of my fur being soaked and hanging heavily on me until it finally dries.
"Let's hope so," Splashpaw jeers, and before Whitefang can reprimand him, he dives into the water as easily as if he were a WindClan cat running into a breeze.
"I'll swim behind you, just in case you need help," Whitefang offers kindly. I instantly like him. Despite his size and obvious power in the coiling of his muscles easily visible beneath his sleek coat, he moves with a quiet grace and regards me and his Clanmates with a sort of protectiveness.
Timberfur and Mallowtail have already gone ahead as well, so I take a deep breath and plunge myself into the stream to get it over with. At first, panic fills me as the water closes over top of my head and presses down on me. Then my paws hit the riverbed and I propel myself up, breaking through the water and taking in a deep gasping breath before my paws start paddling me clumsily forward.
Splashpaw is watching me from the cover of the reeds, his eyes gleaming with amusement, but he doesn't comment when I finally pull myself onto the shore. The wind bites at my freezing pelt, and it takes all my willpower not to shiver. I don't want to look weak in front of these cats, even if my swimming is appallingly terrible.
"Good try," Mallowtail tells me gently, noticing my and Splashpaw's shared look. "Don't worry. If you stay here, you'll get used to it."
"Yeah," I mumble through chattering teeth. I give myself a good shake to dispel the drops of water clinging to my fur before following the patrol into their camp.
It takes a moment for me to distinguish the different features of the camp. The reeds that surround the camp also make up the various dens; a well-trodden grass path leads from various places, and in one corner sits a small pile of fresh-kill. A large willow stands at the head of the camp, and on the opposite side, a sedge wall.
I barely have time to take any of it in before a swarm of cats tumble out of the dens as word spreads of the patrol's return. Unintelligible chatter fills my ears as the cats press forward. Only the patrol itself keeps them back, though Splashpaw slips off to join a white tortoiseshell apprentice with wide amber eyes.
"Quiet!" a low, commanding voice orders. Immediately, the Clan falls silent, backing away to make a small space as a huge light-colored tabby steps forward. I recognize him instantly as Crookedstar from previous Gatherings, but even without that, the crooked set of his jaw would easily identify him. "Timberfur, what is going on here?"
"Tallstar and Owlpaw were waiting at the border," Timberfur says, glancing back at me. "Apparently this apprentice just discovered who his mother is. He said he wanted to join RiverClan to be with her."
Crookedstar is still staring at me, and I manage to hold his firm gaze for about five seconds before looking down at my paws. My tail sweeps low over the ground behind me, brushing against the soft grass. "Is this true?"
"It is," I answer, looking up again to answer his question. A low murmur spreads through the gathered cats, some angry, some cautious, and a few curious. Either way, it doesn't sound like a welcome.
"And why should we take you in?"
"I'll do my best for the Clan," I say immediately, trying hard to look taller and more impressive than I am. "I'll learn to fish, and swim better—or clean out the elders' den or fix dens. I can do whatever you want me to, as long as you say I can stay."
"Why?" Crookedstar asks. "For your mother? Your sister? You must be loyal to your entire Clan, not just your family. If you don't care about the rest of us, then you have no place here. Go home, Owlpaw."
He turns, and this discussion seems to be done. My teeth grind together. I didn't come all this way just to be turned away at the last moment. I'm so close—just a little more effort. "I'm willing to do anything for RiverClan!" I shout after him, feeling the fur rise along my back defensively. "I will die for it, and for any cat in it. I will protect my Clanmates, and I will defend our territory from any enemy—WindClan or otherwise. I want to make this my home, if you will only let me." Crookedstar stops, so I add, "Just give me one moon here. If you still don't think that I belong, then I'll leave the Clans for good. I won't bother anyone ever again."
"You would leave even WindClan if I turned you away?" Crookedstar asks without turning back.
"I have already left it," I answer. "I can't return there anymore. It is not where my loyalties lie, and they know it as well as I do."
Crookedstar remains silent for so long that I'm afraid he'll just start walking away again and leave it at that. But to my surprise, he says, "One moon, and then we will see. For now, Rainstep will be your mentor. She will show you around RiverClan and assign your responsibilities." He looks into the crowd and locks onto a gray-and-black she-cat watching them with sharp, dark gray eyes. "I hope you have no objections this time?"
It takes a moment to realize that he's talking to the she-cat and not me. The warrior looks at me, tilting her head to the side as she sizes me up. "He looks interesting enough. I suppose if it's only a moon, I can stand him for that long."
Hopefully it'll be more than a moon, I think, but I don't say anything out loud. There's something strange with this warrior Rainstep. Something about the look in her eyes that suggests immense intelligence, but at the same time, a sort of air of madness emanates from her. Even the way she walks, when she turns to leave, has a strange kind of lilt to it, lyrical and lithe, but somehow off-balance and disturbing.
"Owlpaw." I turn to see that another patrol has returned after the border patrol that I came with. At the very front, a brown-flecked white she-cat stares at me with incredulity, her jaw slowly working up and down, but no words come out. And then I know.
"Briarclaw."
You know, every time I write a chapter, I think to myself: This will be the one. The chapter that is substantially more than 2,000 words. And you know what? It never is. Therefore, I am very elated this time around. ^^
Also! Lately, I have been very much into Sherlock Holmes. Have you guys seen BBC's Sherlock? It's amazingly amazing. Amazingly so. I have the complete collection of Sherlock Holmes sitting on my shelf, too, so once 1984 and Wuthering Heights are finished, I shall be reading from it in copious amounts. X3
I hope you enjoyed, dear readers! I shall see you on Sunday. :)
Oh, right, and please review! …Pwetty pwease?