"Are you coming tonight, Squirrelspots?"
A low rumbling purr sounded. "I wouldn't miss it for all of the fish in the river, Troutpool."
"I would hope not," the first cat responded, "It might be my last."
Squirrelspots batted at Troutpool's ear. "Don't talk like that," he purred.
The two elders rose from their decorated nests and headed to the center of the RiverClan camp. Others, too, were coming together in the clearing and the two gray-muzzled toms watched curiously as the deputy spoke to Nighthawk, the newest warrior, only 13 moons old.
"She's been skittish lately, ever since, you know..." Troutpool noted. Squirrelspots only nodded, his ears pricked as he picked up parts of the conversation.
"Lead...join me...borders...cats...tension...you can...faith." Nighthawk nodded and turned away from the deputy.
"Do you think Nighthawk is leading us to the Gathering?" Troutpool mused.
The other elder shrugged. "Could be. She has great tracking skills."
"Hmph. The leader always guides us," Troutpool persisted, stubborn to change as always. "And Wetmoss doesn't have the power to change that."
Squirrelspots stood and stretched his weary bones, yawning. "Doesn't matter to me who leads us as long as we get going soon. I'll be asleep before the salmon rise at this rate."
Nighthawk padded beside the deputy, their heads together and low as they headed towards the island. They whispered so quietly even the closest warrior wouldn't have been able to hear what they said.
"Lizardstar has been letting his cats fish in our lake for far too long. They have all of their territory to hunt and they choose to take our food!" Wetmoss hissed.
Nighthawk nodded. "And Patchstar drove that badger through our borders earlier this moon with no warning. Rockpaw could have died."
"We have some fights to pick." The deputy raised his head. "Hey, where'd Cranestar go? I'm gonna go find him. Keep leading, alright?"
Nighthawk nodded and padded forward, glancing back once to make sure her clanmates were still following.
They arrived at the island just as Cranestar returned with Wetmoss and the two nodded at Nighthawk, dismissing her. The she-cat turned to walk back to the group of RiverClan warriors, and she noticed dirty looks as she passed.
"They treat her like she's a senior warrior," she heard one cat hiss. "But she's only a moon out of training."
Another warrior snickered. "It's probably because she missed the last Gathering. They're just trying to butter her up before she realizes-"
Nighthawk shook her head and kept walking, her ears flat so she wouldn't have to listen to the things her clanmates were saying about her.
They're just mad because I wasn't able to save Owlfeather, she thought. Owlfeather had been Nighthawk's first mentor who had been killed by a ShadowClan patrol. Owlfeather was in line to be deputy following Wetmoss and was a favorite of all cats in the clan. With no one to blame but ShadowClan and the one other RiverClan cat who had been with Owlfeather, Nighthawk recieved a lot of banter for Owlfeather's death. She realized how easily things could be taken away.
She wanted revenge.
Nighthawk's clanmates yowled around her, the ones that had attended the Gathering and the ones that hadn't melting together.
"Lizardstar will let his warriors fish in our lake no longer, and Patchstar has given us a full restock on all of our needed herbs! RiverClan has won the quarrels it put itself into, and we are stronger than ever!"
The she-cat gulped and glanced around. Every eye was on Cranestar as the leader yowled. Letting her fur fall flat, the she-cat dipped her head and scooted to the back of the clearing. The warrior's den was right behind her. All she had to do was slip in, grab what she wanted, and reappear right back where she'd started. It's not like anyone would notice anyway.
The clearing erupted in meows of admiration and Nighthawk took to her feet, squeezing through the reeds into the musty sleeping place.
The nicest shell, she mused, letting her eyes drift around the nests looking for which shell sparkled the most, her ears pricked for the sound of any cats entering the den. There!
In a small nest near the back of the den, was a paw-sized shell that sparkled in the darkness and glowed a dazzling white color. Nighthawk lifted her head and sniffed. Elkheart, one of the she-cats who had been picking on Nighthawk before, slept in that nest.
With one final glance to the entrance of the den, the warrior put a paw forward, crouched and picked the shell up in her mouth, swiftly depositing it on the rim of her sleeping place, right next to her favorite feather, instead. It's mine now, she thought, smiling at her prize. That was so easy!
Nighthawk peeked out of the den and saw that Cranestar was just finishing up the meeting. Elders, apprentices, queens, and warriors alike would soon be heading to their dens, worn out from the late-night call. Nighthawk sat herself down and tried to keep herself occupied by licking her paws, in an attempt to not be the first to enter the den. A senior warrior padded by Nighthawk and into the den with a nod and a smile and, impatiently, the she-cat rose to her feet and followed him in. Her head swimming with pictures of all the other things she could have if she wanted, the warrior curled into a ball and fell asleep.
"What do you mean we are half-siblings?" Rainwing yowled, her call echoing loudly across the forest, bouncing off trees and bushes into the distance.
Blazefur padded closer to the she-cat, his eyes narrowing, as he backed his mate onto a tree. "Birchheart told me she had two litters. I was her first. You, Waterbreeze, and Coldfang where her second."
Rainwing gulped and continued to pad backwards. She nodded suspiciously. "Why would she tell you that?"
"I have my ways," Blazefur purred, halting as Rainwing pressed herself against the bark. "Listen, sis, we are still mates, okay? Or else I'll murder Talonkit and Snakekit right in front of your eyes."
"No!" Rainwing hissed. "I won't be mates with you! You're evil and you don't care about me!"
Blazefur unsheathed his claws. "Don't say those vile things," he hissed back. His ginger pelt ruffled and made him look much bigger than he usually did, his muscles rippling under his pelt.
Rainwing closed her eyes and pictured her two kits, hopping around her feet, playing games together, now two moons old, huddling in the nursery unaware that their father is towering over their mother, his claws sharpened. "You wouldn't," she meowed, trying to come up with something to play with his emotions. "They c-carry your blood."
Blazefur smiled. "But they also carry yours," he purred. "Now, you have a decision. Be my wonderful, submissive mate, or die."
"I refuse!" Rainwing hissed, kicking her back legs out in front of her, propelling herself off the tree. She knocked back the tabby, but he had expected her rebellion and was back on his feet within seconds. Blazefur sprinted to the she-cat, and jumped on her back, clawing her forehead severely as she fell.
"One last chance," he murmured, his claws dangerously close to her eyes.
Between pants, Rainwing prayed to StarClan the words she was about to say wouldn't be her last. "P-please...just let m-me go...I'll leave the c-clan and you won't ever hear fr-from me again."
Blazefur sighed and hopped off her. "Get out of here before I change my mind. I don't want ever to hear from you again," he hissed.
Rainwing dipped her head. "Let them grow up like normal kits," was all she said as she swiftly vanished into the forest.
"I do what I want," Blazefur yowled, turning to head back toward camp. 'Let them grow up like normal kits.' What does that even mean? he thought. You caused their abnormality. You're gone from their lives now. You didn't tell them who their father was. You didn't submit. You were the issue! I get whatever I want. Talonkit and Snakekit are mine to mold and craft. They are my heirs. They, too will see that she-cats are to submit to males, always. Talonkit and Snakekit will run ThunderClan!