A/N: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU NINE REVIEWS THAT'S THE MOST I'VE EVER GOTTEN IN ONE STORY!
Chapter Three
Just when as the rain had suddenly come, it stopped. The Clans continued on with their normal duties, with less than ten days left until Mosskit would die as a sacrifice. This obviously lead to some nostalgia; no one wants to dwell on their fate when there are happy memories to recall. The sun rose and set as the moon waned and turned into a sliver that would soon become nothing.
As for Blossom, her anger at the voice increased with every passing heartbeat, and she was continuing to flicker between her true heart and her tainted one. Even I did not have that much control over the voice; my fury stood in the way as I tried to break free of the curse, and eventually I succumbed to passing it on.
Yes, I am Silver. And yes, I am no more than one of the bloodthirsty creatures controlled by that voice. And I regret everything.
Mosskit glared up at the bright sun wrathfully. It had taken away her rain, burned up the remaining puddles with its scorching heat.
Oh, how she hated the sun and the light it gave. She didn't want the sun, she wanted rain! She needed rain! Why must it keep shining on at her, smiling down cheekily as if nothing had happened?
As if her life hadn't crumbled to bits in the past days? Why must it be so happy?
"Mosskit?" Her brother again. He was always pestering her, wishing to spend time with his sibling to her very last breath.
Spending time together wasn't a natural instinct of the kits. It was driven by fear and hope and everything in between.
"I'm thinking, Shadekit."
"You think a lot," commented the kit. He sat down beside her, always there to be Mosskit's shadow. Half of her brother's presence was comforting, and yet another part of her wanted Shadekit to run away and never come back.
And then the memories. They came to her in bits and pieces, as it someone had torn apart her life and tossed the remains in front of the kit:
Mosskit blinked open her eyes, spinning dizzily until she got nudged in the right direction by a large, wet object. She batted at her mother's nose. Honeyfall chuckled and stared into Mosskit's big, kit-blue eyes. Once, she had thought here was love in that gaze. Now that her eyes were green and grown up, she realized that there was no love in this new world.
Mosskit took her first steps outside, sniffing and pawing everything in sight.
Mosskit visited the elders, meeting Tangledclaw and learning of this thing called the old world.
Mosskit grew taller and larger, getting from the size of a squirrel to a rabbit.
Mosskit ate her first piece of fresh-kill.
Mosskit played with her brother, Shadekit.
Mosskit's claws and teeth grew sharper.
Mosskit, Mosskit, Mosskit . . .
The pale kit shook as so many scenes flashed before her eyes, scenes where she had reached a milestone and was truly elated.
"Mosskit?" A claw poked her in the side. That name again. Mosskit. Her name.
"Mosskit, there's a ThunderClan warrior!" Shadekit mewed, looking at something in the instance. Mosskit turned to see a bulky russet tom approach WindClan's leader's den.
"Rainstar, ThunderClan has a request." His deep voice reverberated through the hollow that WindClan called home. "We have no kits to serve as sacrifices this moon, and we would like to know if you have any to spare."
Out of the corner of her eye, Mosskit saw Shadekit bristle and shrink back. The she-kit was barely comprehending this piece of news.
They needed a kit. WindClan had one that was not a sacrifice.
Shadekit.
Mosskit felt like shouting things at the tom. She choked on air as Rainstar gracefully met the tom.
"Foxfoot. We have one extra kit."
"Thank you." The tom, Foxfoot, dipped his head. "ThunderClan will be grateful."
"I should hope they are."
This happened more often than one would expect. If a Clan had no queens or kits for a moon, they would ask a different one for a sacrifice. Why ThunderClan happened to choose WindClan, I do not know.
Shadekit trembled as Foxfoot walked over to the two littermates. Mosskit was still frozen, not knowing what to do to save her brother.
The tom snarled at Mosskit and shoved her out of the way. He grabbed Shadekit by the scruff and exited the camp. Mosskit let out a cry.
"No!"
She tried to run after the two, feeling her heart thump painfully in her chest. Two WindClan warriors held Mosskit back under heavy restraint. She recognized them as Whitewater and Thrushwing.
"Listen, kit," the tabby growled. "I don't know what this 'love' thing is that our goddess told me about, but you better stop listening to it."
It's impossible to stop listening to love. Love may die, but it will come back, learning from its past mistakes and stronger than ever before. Love is everything. And under the influence of the voice, Blossom destroyed love. But all was not lost. Mosskit's actions prove that not even the power of the voice can completely vanquish love.
Mosskit stared at Thrushwing. Was it possible that the she-cat didn't know what love is? That just proved her point; the old world was better than the new world.
The kit wiggled and spun wildly. Her mind was working fast telling her again and again that there was a chance her brother was still there, that she could catch up to him.
"Let me go!" Mosskit shrieked, clawing at Whitewater. Her kit-sharp claws were unsheathed and drew a single drop of blood that fell with a splat on the ground. It disappeared quickly, swallowed by the earth, and realization hit Mosskit like a bolt of lightning.
This was what their leader Blossom wanted. To swallow up the blood of her and other kits.
"It's not fair!" Whitewater growled and shoved Mosskit against a rock.
"Goddess Blossom makes sure life is fair. Do not utter those words again, kit."
It's not hard to see that Blossom's "perfect life" had the ability to drive cats crazy with loyalty.
Rainstar padded over to the group of three, her pelt unruffled.
"Get a cat to guard Mosskit. She will not be left unattended, even at night."
Mosskit stared at Rainstar in anger. How could such a cruel cat be named after something she loved, the rain?
Thrushwing placed a heavy paw on Mosskit's stomach and kept it there, her eyes glinting. The gray kit continued to struggle without hesitation, but the older and stronger cat didn't move a whisker.
"She'll get tired soon enough," the tabby meowed without a trace of worry to Whitewater. "You heard what Rainstar said. Get another cat."
Mosskit looked fiercely at Thrushwing in the eye.
I know she wasn't planning on tiring. Right there and then, Mosskit vowed to continue fighting Thurshwing, Blossom, and all cats like them for the rest of her life, no matter how short it was.
Shadekit whimpered as the intimidating tom roughly pushed his sister to the side and unceremoniously took him away in his teeth. He faintly saw Mosskit run towards him and get bowled over by two cats, but then Foxfoot took a sharp turn and he saw no more of WindClan.
The two went down a trail, out of the vast expanses of the moor and into the crowded forests of ThunderClan. Shadekit wondered how any cat could live with all this undergrowth.
Soon, Foxfoot reached an area that the smoky kit supposed was camp. He dropped Shadekit at his paws.
"I assume the mission was a success?" asked a calico she-cat that gave off an aura of authority.
"Yes, Turtlestar," Foxfoot said with a dip of his head.
ThunderClan was no longer the glorious group it had once been. All the cats hailed Mouseclaw —now an elder— for making the right decision about converting to the new world. They lazed around and basked in the sun's warmth. This Clan was truly a group of kittypets.
"Good. Bring the kit to Specklewing."
Shadekit was picked up once again and walked towards a den that smelled strongly of honey and catmint.
Since there was no illness or injury in the perfect world, medicine cats usually collected catmint, honey, and sweet edible berries used to give behaving kits a treat.
"Can you check over her?" Foxfoot asked the silver-spotted cat that was Specklewing. Shadekit narrowed his eyes distrustfully at ThunderClan's medicine cat. Specklewing seemed unaffected by this, sniffing Shadekit all over and inspecting his paws, ears, and chest.
"He's healthy. A perfect sacrifice for Goddess Blossom."
"What confuses me is why WindClan chose the scrawny she-kit rather than this one. The Goddess likes plump kits."
Shadekit bristled. Were they criticizing his sister for her brave actions?
"The kit seems upset," Specklewing commented. "But oh well. He'll die in eight or so days, anyway."
The dark gray kit glared at Specklewing. Shadekit was right there; there was no need to talk as if he weren't listening to their every words, calculating whether he could run away fast enough to get back to WindClan. No, not WindClan; he didn't care about what happened to that bunch of useless cats. But Mosskit. His loyal sister who had taken Shadekit's place as sacrifice, who had stood up for him, who was probably devastated by this turn of events.
The distant between his spot to the exit of the ThunderClan camp was several foxlengths. He could get there in about twenty rabbit-leaps if Shadekit tried hard enough. The adult cats could get there in six long strides. It would be impossible to run away, and then they would watch over him and he would not get another chance.
Despite his kit-innocence and status as younger brother, Shadekit had the cunning, clever mind of a fox. This would make him a dangerous enemy if he had been in the old world.
"Take him to the prey pile," Specklewing meowed. "Fatten him up a bit more. We want ThunderClan to get the best reputation with Goddess Blossom."
Foxfoot did exactly that, but Shadekit shut his jaws tightly and refused to eat. He did not mew a single word as the russet tom held a juicy-looking mouse in front of the kit.
"Come on," Foxfoot growled, sounding more and more frustrated by the moment. "Why won't you hurry up and eat?"
Shadekit gave the impatient cat a small mental smirk.
"Eat!" roared the russet tom, gaining the attention of several nosy, young onlookers. They chuckled and muttered quietly amongst themselves, increasing Foxfoot's uncontrollable rage.
"Eat, you mangy rat!" he snarled viciously.
"Foxfoot." A slow, commanding voice quieted the tom. "This kit is our guest. He does not have to eat if he does not want to." Turtlestar, perched on a rock, loomed over the tom despite being two-thirds of his size.
"I want to talk to you in my den."
Foxfoot groaned, gave Shadekit one last hateful glance, and followed his leader. His tail drooped noticeably.
When he was out of earshot, the onlookers that were apprentices crowded around Shadekit admiringly.
"Wow!"
"Foxfoot's an irritable furball, isn't he?"
"You're so brave!"
"I can't believe a three-moon-old kit did that to ol' Foxfoot!"
"I need some personal space!" Shadekit squeaked, painfully aware of how high his voice was compared to the deep rumbles of the other toms. He would never get a chance to be like them. There were a few giggles, then a flood of questions and comments.
"Where did you come from?"
"You smell like rabbits."
"Are you fast? I've heard WindClanners are fast."
"Are you scared?"
"What's it like, being a sacrifice?"
Poor kit. Shadekit's head was probably spinning by these questions, not to mention the tiring and eventful day.
"Um . . ." The kit didn't know how to answer. Thankfully, he was saved by a warrior that ushered the apprentices away.
"You're acting like kits! You 'oughta be ashamed of yourselves! I . . ."
The reprimanding voice faded away as the group left Shadekit. He sighed and laid his head on his paws the way his sister always did.
There was one thought running through his mind at that time. Shadekit knew he would see his sister again in eight days.
For the last time.
A/N: Anyone impressed with the speedy updating? School's out and I love this story, so you should get used to it. About the same amount of words as last time.