Author's Note: And here's chapter two (sorry it's late)! ^^; Like the prologue, this is in Hawkfeather's perspective, and with that we shall see what becomes of poor Ospreytail…
Chapter Two
"Gorsepaw!"
The sharp meow fortunately came from the young cat's mentor, Flamefur, and Hawkfeather felt his dissatisfaction ebb some. At least one cat had decency coursing through his veins.
The dawn patrol had been going smoothly, just fine until he, ShadowClan's deputy, veered them through the pine trees and towards a WindClan scent. It was inexplicable, but also one Hawkfeather knew well. All the same, it was the last scent he had ever expected to find on or near ShadowClan territory.
Distant memories and the anxiety they produced had urged the large tabby tom to move as fast as possible. Unfortunately, before he could even call out to the WindClan cat, one apprentice, drowned in his own idiocy, had decided to spring.
Attacking without inquiry? Or, better yet, attacking without orders? It sickened Hawkfeather to know that ShadowClan might appear so undisciplined in the eyes of a foreign cat, and it hurt him to think that of all cats Ospreytail was the one pounced on.
Not that he could show that, of course.
The brown and ginger apprentice slid off the slender WindClan deputy, ears flat on his head. "I-I'm sorry, Flamefur." He rushed back over to the ShadowClan patrol, but most importantly, his brown, white, and ginger furred mentor. "I didn't… I just thought…"
Hawkfeather flicked the long plume of his tail over Gorsepaw's mouth, silencing the stuttering young tom himself as his amber eyes fixed on Ospreytail, on the small red dots that stood out on the white of the other's pelt.
His words came quietly, "You can receive your lecture later, Gorsepaw. Ospreytail—" He flicked his tail high into the air. "—what do you think you're doing on ShadowClan land?"
The bobtailed WindClan cat stood with dignity, and to Hawkfeather's pleasure, his dawn patrol quickly fanned out to block off any escape routes. Out of eager curiosity as much as discontent, he wanted to hear what had driven Ospreytail to travel so far. What if in some way, for some reason, it had something to do with him? Beneath his regal posture, Hawkfeather's heartbeat quickened. It'd been so long, and so much had changed, but…
"I saw a loner and came to investigate. Smell for yourself; traces of his scent are still in the air," Ospreytail explained simply before pointing out, "And I'm not trespassing, if that's what you think."
True to Ospreytail's word, Hawkfeather could vaguely distinguish the unknown scent of a loner, and he immediately made a mental note. The dawn patrol would have to investigate as soon as possible. At the same time, it was also true that Ospreytail was within two foxlengths of the lakeshore.
Good.
Hawkfeather narrowed his eyes and flicked an ear, the one with a deep chip earned long ago. "As I'm sure you can see, that loner is also no longer here, and trespassing or not, you no longer have a reason for being." He held Ospreytail's bright blue gaze and was struck with a pang of longing, one forcibly brief. "So take your leave before force is required."
Ospreytail gave a solemn nod, and Hawkfeather turned to face a gray she-cat with black paws. "Stand aside, Crowfoot."
The young ShadowClan warrior, blocking along the rocky shore, moved closer to one of her Clanmates, a white and black spotted she-cat, to allow passage.
Hawkfeather expected the bobtailed deputy to flee without another word. However, Ospreytail took a small step forward, towards him. "I hope to meet you again soon, and under more pleasant circumstances, Hawkfeather."
Hawkfeather's fur bristled. How obvious could Ospreytail be? Was the black and white tom trying to mock him? Trying to wave in the face of his fellow warriors their past secret? How monstrous! How evil! How—!
The Gathering. The thought hit Hawkfeather before he could admit he shared Ospreytail's wish, and with it his inner shock faded. With the ShadowClan leader dangerously ill, he would certainly be at the upcoming Gathering to take Stonestar's place. And if Ospreytail were present as well…
Hawkfeather dipped his head, acknowledging Ospreytail's statement. Was he wrong to hope? After all, he had long since settled into normal Clan life, even taken a mate.
Without stirring anything more, the WindClan deputy padded away, and immediately, ShadowClan's own deputy felt his long tabby fur fall flat. His rigid stance relaxed.
"Hawkfeather, what did he mean by that?"
Hawkfeather shifted his attention to Crowfoot, still young enough to speak her thoughts, and easily lied, "StarClan knows." The curious stares of the rest of his dawn patrol disappeared. Throughout the encounter, he must have worn his mask well. The tabby tom turned to leave. "Now, far more importantly, we should see to that lon—"
"Hawkfeather!"
Hawkfeather and the rest of the dawn patrol turned their heads to see a dark tortoiseshell and white she-cat darting towards them.
"What is it, Sweetcloud?"
Almost as soon as Hawkfeather had asked the question, the she-cat stopped in front of them, sides heaving as she managed between pants, "Spottedfrost… the kits… they're coming!"
Hawkfeather's whiskers went stiff as a jolt of excitement coursed throughout his muscled form.
The kits! At last, moons' worth of anticipation was coming to a head and his kits were being born, although a bit sooner than he ever expected. Pride swelled in Hawkfeather's chest and brightened his whole demeanor as he turned to face the white and black spotted she-cat in his patrol. "Frostfern, I trust you to take care of our unwanted visitor."
"Of course, Hawkfeather," Frostfern purred. "Now hurry or Spottedfrost will miss you."
"Right!" Hawkfeather nodded once, then turned and bounded off with Sweetcloud at his heels. Leaving, he could hear Gorsepaw remark to Flamefur, "Do you think me and Tigerpaw will get to play with the new kits soon?"
What an exciting thought! Hawkfeather's long body easily weaved through the trees, and his large paws did well to cross a forest floor blanketed by brown pine needles. Bliss carried him along, and he could already envision miniature tabby cats out in the sunshine, tumbling with one another and being taught a few basics by the apprentices. But of course he would be out there tumbling and teaching as well. It was exactly what he'd promised he'd do... and Ospreytail had borne witness.
For a moment, Hawkfeather was pulled back and Ospreytail's parting words echoed in his ears, but he quickly shook his head to shoo the accompanying thoughts. He regretted nothing, and he didn't doubt himself in hoping to repair what he'd broken. After all, the Warrior Code permitted friendship between cats from different Clans, and about to be a father, he was certainly mature enough to handle that now. Their chance encounter had to be a sign that StarClan approved. Still, he'd have to dwell on that matter later.
Hawkfeather made a long, graceful leap over a fallen tree and landed with a thud, tufted ears perked as he stood at the edge of the ShadowClan camp. Sweetcloud landed at his side with a quieter, daintier sound.
"Follow me," she mewed gently and began padding towards the nursery, a den hidden by brambles and low hanging pine branches.
Hawkfeather followed eagerly, oblivious to the stares of the cats loitering about their camp. His head lowered and he laid his ears flat as he peered into the darkness. The mixed scents of milk and earth hit him instantly, and his amber eyes darted from the shadowed forms within over to Sweetcloud and back.
Aside from Spottedfrost, two others queens were inside with their own kits, and gradually, as his pupils expanded, Hawkfeather could make out how the youngsters curiously hung near Spottedfrost, a white, black, and orange she-cat, as well as ShadowClan's medicine cat.
Hawkfeather inched forward, cautious as he asked, "Brindlestripe, is everything okay?"
The dark brown tom, striped like a tiger, looked up from Spottedfrost. There was a glint in his yellow eyes that suggested humor, like Hawkfeather's anxious tone was unfounded.
Brindlestripe meowed, "All is well." He stepped back and glanced down at the two furry bundles cuddled up to Spottedfrost's then smaller stomach. "You're a little late, Hawkfeather, but I suppose that's understandable."
There was no response to Brindlestripe. Hawkfeather was transfixed by the kits, his kits, and he came ever closer, his mew leaving him without any forethought, "What are their names?"
Spottedfrost purred, and with her black and orange tail, gestured to the larger of the two, the tom with fur like a storm cloud, "This is Stormkit—" She gestured to the white she-kit with brown tabby patches. "—and this is Lark-kit."
As if on cue, Lark-kit began mewling and her brother soon followed, prompting Spottedfrost to soothe them with a tender nuzzle. In his own mind, Hawkfeather had expected a larger litter, and they looked more like himself, but somehow, these two were even better.
"They're beautiful," Sweetcloud whispered Hawkfeather's thought, albeit her voice was strained with what seemed longing.
Quietly, Brindlestripe nudged her out of the nursery, himself following with the parting words, "Let me know if I'm needed further."
"Of course!" Spottedfrost called after him with a surprising amount of energy and cheer for a she-cat that had just given birth.
Hawkfeather let out a rumbling purr. "They're almost as magnificent as their mother."
"Indeed," a ginger tabby queen, the oldest in the nursery, agreed. "Spottedfrost did an excellent job for her first time, let me tell you."
"Oh, Sorrelpelt. Don't flatter me now," Spottedfrost buried her face against Stormkit and wrapped her tail about both the newborns.
Spottedfrost was a good cat, Hawkfeather had decided on that long ago. She was a good warrior, and as he was sure, she would make an excellent mother for his kits as well.
The ShadowClan deputy came to lie beside her and nosed their kits himself, happily listening to the other kits speculate over when they'd be allowed to play with the new arrivals.
He was at peace, but his moment was cut short as he felt a tongue rasp over his ear. Surprised, Hawkfeather lifted his head from his kits to see Spottedfrost looking at him, her eyes full of an emotion he couldn't quite place. She meowed quietly, "I love you."
Hawkfeather felt the black tip of his tail twitch. "I love you, too." He shook his head and stood up, suddenly feeling the desire to leave. "I'll be back later today, all right?"
Spottedfrost blinked at him, and Hawkfeather saw frustration prickle the she-cat's multicolored fur. "Fine." She turned stiffly back to Stormkit and Lark-kit.
"Don't worry, I'll be back soon," Hawkfeather purred, somehow managing to be that much more cheerful as he gave his two kits a few loving licks goodbye.
With that, the ShadowClan deputy backed out of the nursery and shook his long dark pelt, once more free to bask in the sun and glory of fatherhood.
He knew that Spottedfrost wanted more from him, and that she wished they could behave more like actual mates, but Hawkfeather couldn't say he felt particularly romantic towards the she-cat… or any cat, for that matter.
He just knew he wanted kits, like he knew he'd wanted to become deputy. The simple fact that he was now a father was exciting enough to make it easy to overlook the drawbacks of Spottedfrost's dissatisfaction and anything else that could possibly bother him. What was more, he was certain that he would get the chance to be reunited with Ospreytail, the best friend he'd ever had. It was the sweet, sweet success of life!
But even that glorious feeling was relinquished as Hawkfeather scanned the camp and met a look of grave disapproval. The light in Hawkfeather's eyes dimmed.
Just outside the medicine cat den, one also hidden by brambles, a gray longhaired tom sat with Brindlestripe. Although the medicine cat was carrying on intently about something, the gray tom didn't seem to be listening. No, Owlfur was busy giving Hawkfeather a hard stare, and the brown tabby felt it to his core. His delight drained to make room for his worries.
That look meant he'd done something wrong. Was it the kits? Did Owlfur not approve of his kits? What if it was his inability to love Spottedfrost? But those things had been a fact for a while, so why would Owlfur care now of all times?
Slowly, Hawkfeather padded towards the fresh-kill pile.
No, it had to be something else. Something recent. But what was recent? Hawkfeather held Owlfur's glare. What if his brother knew that he'd encountered Ospreytail? What if… what if his brother already knew that he still wanted to see the WindClan cat, that he was pompous enough to plan on it?
Hawkfeather looked down to a full pile of fresh-kill and his shuffling paws. He silently hoped Ospreytail had managed to get home all right.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! 8D And a review to let me know what you think so far would be AWESOME and GREATLY APPRECIATED!
