Shadow and I collaborated in part on this one. Our two fics intersect slightly here, so you get to meet her wonderously angsty character Cranepaw! =3
On an unrelated note, nasty uncooked pizza is nasty. I tried to pick up my slice at school and it sagged between my fingers, and dough stretched out from it when I took a bite. -shudders- No more ordering pizza at school...or for awhile...
"On your paws, Owlpaw!" Rainstep calls. I just have time to slide into the stream to avoid what would have been a jarring blow to the head. Splashpaw shoots past, lands lightly on his paws, and twists back around to face me in one smooth, graceful movement. The cold water soaks through my fur, sending goosebumps over my skin. Even though newleaf has well set in, it's still this cold.
My paws clamber for a pawhold in the loose pebbles as Splashpaw bounds into the river just ahead of me. He moves much more easily in the water than I do, even after a moon spent entirely in the water to become adjusted to it. His rakes his paw down the front of my face, just barely missing as I pull back. I swerve to the side and slash my paw across his side. If we were in a real battle, with unsheathed claws, I like to think I would've given him a shallow injury.
He spins around instantly, knocking into me and sending me half-hurling into the water. In the time it takes me to regain my breath, his paws are on my shoulders, holding me down. He yowls triumphantly, but before he can gain a solid victory, I use the shifting pebbles and slippery flow of water beneath me to slither out of his grasp.
I come up behind him, but before I can try to counterattack, Crookedstar says calmly from his seat on the bank, "That's enough."
Splashpaw and I are both out of breath and panting. This was our fifth bout, and of them, I only won once. I don't know what the outcome of this one would've been since we're both so tired, but Crookedstar must've seen how it would end. My hopes fall in my chest as I look at his unreadable face. He stands and, without another word, pads off back to camp.
"Too bad," Splashpaw sneers, catching whatever expression is on my face. "Looks like you just aren't good enough to be in RiverClan. Not that it was any surprise, of course. No WindClan-raised rat was about to blend in, no matter whose blood you have."
"Splashpaw," Whitefang calls sharply. He and Rainstep are seated side-by-side on the bank, and even though he's standing, Rainstep still has not. She stares stoically ahead of her at something I can't see. Whitefang turns to me apologetically. "You did very well today, Owlpaw. Crookedstar didn't give his answer, so don't take silence as one. He has much to consider."
The white tom nods in farewell before disappearing after Crookedstar. Splashpaw rolls his eyes like his mentor is just prolonging the inevitable disappointment—and maybe he is—before bounding after him.
Today was my assessment. This morning went decently, I thought. I managed to catch a rabbit and fish, which, in my defense, I've only just learned how to do. I'm sure the rabbit didn't please Crookedstar and the others watching; it only proved that I was WindClan through and through. But any prey is food for the Clan, and even they could accept that fact.
Border patrol was after that, where Crookedstar asked me questions about the territory that I was haltingly able to answer. That went better, because the funny way Rainstep explains things sticks in my head. Battle training in water was last, which I just finished with Splashstep. I think the apprentice rather relished the chance to prove that I wasn't RiverClan worthy.
Well, he succeeded.
"Thank you for teaching me for this past moon, Rainstep," I say, only just remembering to walk out of the stream. I've spent so much time in it lately that it's become second nature to always be wet and not even think about it. "I'm sorry for wasting your time."
"Wasting my time?" Rainstep asks, her tone one of amusement. "Now did I say that? I think not, and I am the only one who decides whether or not my time has been wasted. Pay heed to Whitefang's words, Owlpaw; he is experienced and speaks true. Regardless, Crookedstar is not the type to turn out any cat, much less one he has grown fond of."
"You think he approves of me?" I ask, nearly beside myself with incredulity. How on earth could that ever happen?
"Crookedstar takes notice of those who work hard," Rainstep says, finally standing with a languorous stretch. Her muscles coil visibly underneath her sleek fur, reminding me once more that her mind isn't the only thing she keeps sharpened. "And you have been working very hard, if I do say so myself."
"Maybe it's just because you've been such a slave driver," I retort lightly.
Her ear flicks, and though her mouth quirks at the corners, she only says, "I do try my best. Now, get along back to camp. Crookedstar should have your verdict soon, as well as announcing who's going to the Gathering tomorrow. And I'm sure you would not like to miss either of those."
"Thank you, Rainstep," I say. "For everything."
"Oh, get on with you," Rainstep says, swatting me upside the head with her tail. Still, the gesture is affectionate, and her tone is not unkind.
Nightpaw is waiting for me when I return. She paces in front of the apprentices' den impatiently, her tail lashing from side to side. No one comes near her, so quite a few cats must have already gotten a lashing from her fiery tongue already.
"Hey, Nightpaw," I greet, padding over to her. Her head snaps up, and once she's sees it's me, her brooding eyes soften.
"Owlpaw," she purrs, touching noses with me in greeting. For a moment, we stand in complacent silence, simply taking pleasure in each other's company before words ruin the feeling.
Over the past moon, Nightpaw and I have grown close. Close enough that I would nearly compare my friendship with her to that of mine with Mudpaw's, and certainly above any other I had within WindClan. We were awkward at first, definitely, but with time spent perpetually together and gradually discovered similarities, it finally feels like we became true siblings.
I wish I could say the same for Briarclaw. She dotes on me, sometimes, but most times she is just melancholy, still lingering over Rockfur's death even now. She tries to talk with me, but her eyes are always so tired that I can't help but feel that I'm the one wearing her out.
"How did it go?" Nightpaw asks, drawing back. "Splashpaw came back bragging that we'd have an extra nest in the apprentices' den tonight."
"Did he now?" I ask, somewhat absent.
"Yeah," Nightpaw answers, nodding. "So I shoved him into the stream as soon as he wasn't looking. Nearly drowned, he was so surprised. A pity he didn't."
I laugh, and Nightpaw's eyes brighten. "Thanks for that. I owe you one."
"Nonsense," Nightpaw says, licking her paw dismissively. "I can only stand that cat for so long. I would've done it even if he hadn't been pestering you so much."
"Well, thank you regardless," I tease, nudging her in the shoulder with my own.
We share tongues until night is on us, before Crookedstar comes out of his den. We talk about senseless, unimportant things that fade out of existence as soon as our leader appears. I spring to my paws, Nightpaw right behind me, and race to the center of camp. A few others nearby notice and come join us more slowly.
"Getting ready for the news, Owlpaw?" Birdsong, RiverClan's one and only queen, asks, coming to sit by me. "I bet you must be excited."
"I am," I answer honestly, to which she purrs, "The best of luck. If it were up to me, I'd let you stay."
"Birdsong, you'd let a sheep join RiverClan if it had a mind to," Rainstep says, appearing behind us.
"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult," Birdsong says amiably.
"Take it in whatever way you please," Rainstep says with a shrug of her shoulders. "It's merely a statement."
"RiverClan!" Crookedstar calls, and all of us fall silent. The whole Clan has gathered now, excepting the cats out on patrol. I can barely glimpse Splashpaw a few cats away, his chin raised. A long silence stands until Crookedstar finally speaks again, apparently after much deliberation. "Today, we welcome a new cat into our ranks. Owlpaw, you have striven to accomplish any task given to you this past moon, even when it seemed tedious or inconsequential. Your serious nature work ethic more than qualify you to be among our number. I formally welcome you as a permanent member of RiverClan."
The blood is roaring so loudly in my ears that I can barely hear him. Then Nightpaw starts calling, "Owlpaw! Owlpaw!" and the rest of the cats join in, one by one, until the whole Clan is chanting my name as though I'd just been named an apprentice. Warmth grows inside my chest to the point that I'm afraid it'll expand too much and start leaking out of my fur. This is my Clan, welcoming me like kin I only just discovered. And I am RiverClan.
XXX
Fourtrees is oddly silent when our group, headed by Crookedstar, enters. ShadowClan is the only other Clan present, and they stiffen oddly when they see us. I wonder if something happened recently that gives them reason to be mad at us, but if so, I can't think what. We don't even share a border with them.
"Owlpaw, be cautious around WindClan when they arrive," Rainstep says quietly. "Don't act over friendly, or else you might turn more than a few RiverClan cats against you. Crookedstar allowing you to come tonight is also a test, so don't blow it."
"Okay," I reply, just as softly. "Thanks for the warning." She nods and pads off to join a dark tabby she-cat from ShadowClan. I wait on the edge of the groups, not really feeling sociable, and not knowing many cats of ShadowClan regardless. I'll be content to wait until Mudpaw appears.
"Are you waiting for WindClan?" a voice behind me asks. I turn to see a small gray tom with white paws staring at me with luminous eyes. From the damp, piney scent that comes off him, he's obviously ShadowClan, but I don't think I've ever seen him before.
"How did you know?" I ask. I try to keep the nervous edge out of my voice, and I'm not sure how well I succeed. Not very, I would take it, from the confirmation that seems to gleam in his eyes. He seems relieved to have guessed right, but I don't know why it should matter so much.
He shrugs. "You just looked like it, I guess. Do you have friends there?" His tone is easy enough—conversational, really—and he doesn't look like he intends any harm, so I answer honestly.
"Yeah, I do. Up until one moon ago, I lived in WindClan. This is my first time at a Gathering since then, so I haven't seen my Clanm—my former Clanmates in awhile."
His fur bristles, and at first I mistake it for anger at the fact that I'm half-Clan. But he surprises me. "Tallstar let you leave that easily? He didn't even try to stop you?"
"Well, I...I wouldn't say that," I answer hesitantly. My tail flicks low over the ground, and uneasiness weighs in the bottom of my stomach, but I can't stop myself from talking. For some reason, it feels like I have something to prove to this cat. "The real problem came with trying to get Crookedstar to accept me. I finally just finished my trial period yesterday."
"That's a shame," he says, truly sounding sympathetic. He nods, as though just remembering somethingobvious, and says, "I'm Cranepaw by the way. ShadowClan."
"Owlpaw," I return, relieved to not linger over the subject of my being half-Clan. "RiverClan. Barely."
He gives a sort of half-laugh. "How have things been in RiverClan? Anything out of the ordinary? Besides your joining, of course," Cranepaw says. His tone is light enough, but there's an undertone of strain that causes me to look for any hidden meaning in the question.
"Well enough," I answer cautiously. "Nothing strange. Why, is there something in particular you wanted to know about?"
Cranepaw pauses for a moment, looking uncertain. Finally, his eyes harden and he asks with a certain kind of resolve, "Do you know about Silversong?"
I hope my expression isn't as blank as my voice when I say, "Who? Is she in RiverClan? I haven't met her before."
Cranepaw's tail falls along with his ears, and I have the horrible feeling I just caused something painful for him. "Oh. No, she's not in RiverClan. That's fine." He shakes himself, as though to shake clear his thoughts. "No, I was just wondering. It had something to do with patrols. Does Crookedstar send warriors into Fourtrees for patrols?"
"All the way here?" I ask in surprise. "Absolutely not. Why would he bother when Fourtrees is a neutral place? There's no one to defend from over here." To question why he wants to know doesn't strike me until I've already answered his question, and by then, some strange emotion has flashed through his eyes and I have the feeling that the moment to inquire is gone. So I ask something else. "Do you have some kind of connection with RiverClan? Since you're asking about them and all, I mean."
A look of surprise brings Cranepaw out of his meditations, and it's so strong that I wonder if I should already know who he is. "I'm…half-Clan, too. My father is from RiverClan."
"Really?" I ask, sounding more eager than I had meant to. It's my first time meeting another half-Clan cat, and somehow, with the knowledge that I'm not the only one, it's easier to bear. In an almost apologetic tone, I add, "Who is he? I could give a message to him if he isn't here tonight, if you like."
Cranepaw turns his head away, and I have the feeling I've offended him again. I'm really bad at this whole socializing thing. "Not anyone I know or anyone I care about. My mother never told me who he was. Thanks anyway, though."
"Oh," I say. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" I look up as the familiar, overpowering scent of open skies and freshly cut grass and mud and rabbits suddenly becomes distinct on my tongue. A moment later, I can hear the rustling of bushes around the left side of the clearing as WindClan enters Fourtrees. My eyes search hungrily for Mudpaw, and I've almost forgotten that Cranepaw is even there until he speaks again.
"Go ahead. Go see your friends. Maybe I'll see you at another Gathering."
I give a guilty start, but he doesn't seem to have any malicious intent with the words, and he looks like he wants to get away just as badly as I do. "It was nice meeting you," I say, nodding my head. "I hope we can meet again soon."
He nods distractedly and we part ways. I find Mudpaw fast enough, and his eyes light with happiness as soon as he sees me. I wonder if I look just as happy. I hope I do, no matter what my new Clanmates might think of me. Because no matter where I live, or what I call myself, Mudpaw will always be my best friend.
I quickly tell him the good news of my placement in RiverClan, unable to hide the pride of my accomplishment. He looks sad for a moment, and it suddenly occurs to me that he probably doesn't want to hear me boasting about my new life without him. But then he grins and nudges me in the side. "Sounds like you're doing well, Owlpaw. I was worried about you for awhile there."
"Worried?" I repeat, nudging him playfully. "About me? Please. I can handle myself."
He laughs, and I take comfort in the easy way we can talk. Even conversation with Nightpaw isn't the easy, nor as enjoyable. It's one thing to talk to a sibling you've known for one moon, but another entirely to be with the cat you grew up with.
And all too soon, ThunderClan arrives. As I watch them enter, one by one, a large tabby catches my eye and I can't help but stare. He's an impressive-looking warrior—a strong build, broad shoulders. I'd certainly hate to meet him in battle. I watch as Timberfur discreetly excuses himself from a conversation with a ShadowClan tom and pads over to talk with the warrior.
"I'll be right back," I say to Mudpaw, feeling excited. "I want to see if Timberfur will introduce me to that warrior over there."
Mudpaw glances over my shoulder to the cat in question. "The dark one?"
"Yeah! Doesn't he look really cool?"
"I guess," Mudpaw replies, but he doesn't sound as certain as I feel.
"I'll be back before the leaders start the Gathering," I promise, already weaving my way through the crowd of cats to reach the two formidable warriors. I've nearly reached them when something tells me not to rush headlong into their conversation. Their heads are bent low, and their tones are barely above terse whispers.
They must be talking about something really important. I quietly approach, not wishing to disturb them, and suddenly I can hear what they're talking about.
"Tigerclaw, it is time for you to make good on your deal," Timberfur hisses. "You said you would have Crookedstar taken care of by the end of the season, and yet, he is still very much alive. How do you expect me to take over the Clan like this?"
"Patience, Timberfur," the warrior called Tigerclaw purrs softly. "There was a slight…setback, that's all. It shall be done."
"It better be," Timberfur growls. "I won't have you making a mess of things. It took me a long time to finally earn this position, and I'm not about to have it taken away by—" He cuts off as his eyes meet mine, and they widen infinitesimally. I quickly backtrack, unsure what my face is showing, and not knowing how to hide what I just heard from my expression.
I rejoin Mudpaw quietly, and when he asks about Tigerclaw, I simply shrug half-heartedly. My friend knows me too well to know when something is wrong, though, and since there seems no point in hiding the truth, I tell him.
"That's crazy!" Mudpaw declares, his tail lashing angrily behind him.
"Mudpaw, hush!" I whisper, glancing around us frantically. Luckily, the leaders have taken their places on the Great Rock and aren't paying a couple of apprentices much mind. "Do you want the whole forest to hear?"
"Are you sure you heard right?" I nod. "Then we have to tell the leaders! At least Crookedstar and Sunstar."
"They wouldn't believe me," I say uneasily. "I'm just a half-Clan who only recently changed Clans. Why in StarClan would they think I'm not a traitor? I already betrayed my Clan once, so who's to say I wouldn't do it again?"
Mudpaw shakes his head. "This is too important to just let lie, Owlpaw. It's your responsibility as a member of RiverClan to tell your leader."
"I don't have any proof," I say, looking hesitantly around. It feels like every cat in the clearing is watching me, even though not a single one is. "Once I have that, then I'll go to Crookedstar. And maybe you're right. I might've just misheard, or misunderstood."
Mudpaw doesn't look nearly so certain, but he doesn't pester me about it. For the rest of the Gathering, I can't even concentrate on what the leaders are saying. All I can think about is how to prove that Timberfur is a traitor.
Heehee~! My longest chapter yet, guys! It makes me so proud. My little ficlet is growing up so fast. –grabs a tissue–
So, um, please please please review? They make me infinitely happy, and Shadow being the only constant reviewer is not greatly heartening. (I still less than three you, Shadow.)