TWELVE.
City lights…gentle rain…the sound of the monsters…
Firepaw was dreaming again. It was exhausting at this point, walking through the same vision over and over again. If he was to have tortured sleep, couldn't his brain come up with something new? Something perhaps more related to the scenarios revolving around what was presently wracking his mind? He really thought his brain was more creative, but here he was again standing in the same city sidewalk, rain dripping down his ginger fur.
To be fair, he probably would be more inspired to think of something different if this continuous vision didn't scare him like it was fresh every single time.
Dim yellow lights…the ominous neon red…Firepaw could recite everything that the cat emerging from the shadows was going to say back to them at this point. But all nightmares got boring once they follow the same script enough…it was the subtle changes that kept him dreading sleep. In the nights following his near-death scrape on the ShadowClan border, it was Yellowfang who emerged from those shadows. Now, the eyes were that same yellow, but the voice was deeper, younger, more wrathful .
"You must have a deathwish if you're out here lookin' to kill me, kitty," snarled the tom. It was a tabby tom - Firepaw couldn't really tell in the light if the voice belonged to Tigerclaw or Brokenstar. Maybe some combination of both? Yet unlike other dreams, the city drawl was broken and fake, almost like his brain was holding together the traumatic details with tape and prayers as the apprentice wiped his rough accent from his tongue.
The lights flickered, thunder rumbled…right on cue. Firepaw, afraid, took one step back, then two as the tom growled. The fur glowed menacingly in the rotting yellow light, the attacker's form encroached enough in shadow to bring out the deadliness in those eyes through the dark. It was just like he was a kit again when he had stood on this very street, encountering death and feeling afraid.
There was a time when Firepaw could remember every single detail of that night. The night where he exchanged a victory with a pelt soaked in blood and the desecration of his family. Yet now the details were fuzzy, almost like his brain was blocking him from accessing those memories. Now there was space left for his nightmares to take the pieces left and revise the performance night after night.
"Come on, then…" snarled Firepaw's attacker, "Don't worry…Ah'll go easy on ya…for the start, hehehe…"
Firepaw was the first to launch himself into the fray, claws out and giving as mighty of a yowl as a six-moon-old kit could. The small victory of ducking under the tom's first swipe and sinking his teeth into the tom's shoulder was short-lived as a mere shake of his pelt flung him off. The taste of blood, still pungent and unfamiliar as it was that fateful night, flooded his mouth as the ginger tom felt claws scrape against his flank.
There was always a sense of dread one felt when attacking someone twice their size, but the dread certainly was different when Firepaw was forced to fight that someone night after night. Not enough to make him lose motivation to fight, but enough to make Firepaw have to fight the knowledge of his doom at the same time. Blow after blow he landed felt more and more futile with every vicious whack that slashed at his flanks and made his head fly back. The pain he felt was a vague ache, disconnected from the actual cuts yet vivid enough to make every hit feel real.
Yet the ending of these dreams were always the opposite of what had happened. With blood spilling across his ginger fur from the cuts on his flank, his attacker laughed and spat in his face. Then, picking him up like a Clan cat held a dead rabbit, he tossed Firepaw into the Thunderpath. Hopeless to get up and out of danger, the ginger tom watched hopelessly as his attacker smiled, relishing in his imminent death.
There had been no instance of this dream where he had won this fight. Sometimes he wondered if he had even won the fight at all, even though him being both alive and out of the city spoke for itself. Yet every single dream, no matter what amalgamation took the form of the attacker he had faced, sang the same sonatina.
"Better luck next time." There sang the recapitulation, restating the theme of his nightmares. And then the blinding white lights shrouded over Firepaw's vision completely - a blinding, deadly climax…
And then he was awake.
Firepaw looked around as he got to his senses. The sky was a dim gray, the morning barely graced through the light of the clouds overhead. Though the dream made the skin under his pelt feel blazing hot, the apprentice could feel the morning chill wiggle in through his ginger fur and see the dewdrops make the grass shimmer like crystal in the low light of the morning. Graypaw, as expected, laid beside him snoring. Yet while his friend's pelt felt warm and inviting, the hammering in his chest told him he would not be able to return to sleep.
The ginger tom slowly got up and yawned, glancing around at the den. Sandpaw was curled up neatly into a tight-wound circle, tail resting delicately over her nose while Dustpaw looked like he had just passed out on his flank. The wounds on the brown tabby tom seemed to be healing, reminding Firepaw of his desire to ask Graypaw what had happened the day of the Gathering before he put it away.
He had made a promise to himself the previous night - there was to be no trying to solve any mysteries today. Spottedleaf was right, making connections with some of the other warriors would be good for him. But as he stepped out into the quiet camp, Firepaw caught the fresh scent of Ravenpaw that trailed towards the entrance and out of camp.
Firepaw was curious, so curious about what was going on with him. Primarily because he was worried about what Tigerclaw had done to threaten him into silence, but also how his unexpected and secretive friendship with Spottedleaf tied into everything. It didn't seem normal for a warrior apprentice to receive as much medicine cat training as he was getting, especially when it was off the record and kept quiet from his actual mentor. Firepaw supposed that was a good thing - after all, the tabby had ripped into him for nearly getting killed by an adder.
He was going to keep to his promise today and just get to know some of the other warriors, but it was still painfully difficult when the mysteries that had wracked his brain were rubbing themselves in his face, inviting him to bite and dive deeper.
No one was awake yet - not even Lionheart to organize the morning patrol. For a few moments, Firepaw simply sat by himself in the camp, eyes idly drifting across the slowly brightening sky. Though it wasn't warm now , the newleaf season was beginning to bud into the sweltering climate of greenleaf - the ginger tom could see spots of moss beginning to grow on the walls of the camp and the leaves on the trees inheriting a matured green. Time was strange to the young tom here - the last few days had felt like a torturous eternity yet the heat and the fresh hues reminded him that he was not a stranger here anymore. He'd actually grown a little, though his Clanmates were unfortunately growing much faster than he was.
Firepaw had walked this earth for…what, ten or eleven moons? It was hard to recall since tracking moons as passage of time was only something the Clans did. Yet he could feel himself age every day since Yellowfang first attacked him. The youth that he had was not slowly shedding away into maturity but being ripped and peeled off of him, leaving him feeling raw and exposed. Like he was never meant to grow up like everyone else did.
A rustle to his side caught Firepaw's attention, and he looked over to see a tom-kit and a she-kit emerging from the nursery. They were older than Ashkit and Fernkit, yet still looked like they were learning how to be light on their paws as they tried to sneak towards the entrance of camp.
" This is a bad idea, Brackenkit! " whispered the she-kit, her voice tight with worry even over her breathy voice, " What if we get caught? "
" Don't be such a scaredy-mouse, Cinderkit!" retorted the tom-kit in a less-quiet whisper, " We're only going to look around, that's all! " Firepaw, eyes narrowed, got up and approached the two kits quietly.
"What are you two doing up so early?" said the ginger tom quietly, careful not to be loud enough to disturb anyone else in camp. Despite that, both kits jumped at his voice with a yelp shooting out of Brackenkit - they had been caught in the act. "Don't you know you're not allowed out of camp?"
" Oh, please don't tell our mother! Please! " whimpered Cinderkit, a smoky-gray kit with brilliant blue eyes, " We're sorry! I was trying to tell my brother not to when- "
"Did not! " retorted Brackenkit to his sister, "You agreed to come with me!"
"You promised that we wouldn't get caught!"
"I didn't think that anyone would be awake this early!" Brackenkit turned back to Firepaw, an adorable plea in his eyes, " We won't go out…just pleeeeeease don't tell our mom. "
Firepaw was more confused than anything else. "Why did you want to leave camp in the first place? Don't you know it's dangerous for kits like you?"
" But it's booooooring being in camp all day, " whined Brackenkit, " Besides…I'm five moons old now! I'm basically an apprentice! "
" No, you're not! You still have 'kit' in your name! "
" I won't for long! I don't see why I have to wait to leave camp…I wanna go explore! See the forest! Not be trapped here playing…dumb kit games. " The excitement in Brackenkit's voice made a small smile rise up in Firepaw, but the unenthusiastic look of concern by Cinderkit made it fall back off. Surely they knew about the dangers outside, right?
Firepaw didn't know how to talk to kits. Sometimes he heard cats use a high-pitched, saccharine voice, but he couldn't pull that off. To him, kits were just small cats yet to learn consequences for their actions, so talking about the risks of going outside was said in the same way he would have told Smudge about this camp. "Well, there are a lot of dangerous things out there…like foxes and other Clan cats. You don't want them to come along and hurt you, right?"
" We won't! We were just looking around! Promise! " said Brackenkit, who seemed unbothered by the threat. Cinderkit, however, looked more and more scared and remorseful for accompanying her brother with every word he spoke.
"Well, uh…don't do that. Not until you're an apprentice," said Firepaw, trying to sound assertive and like an older relative but instead sounding immensely awkward, "Because…you might die."
Cinderkit looked mortified at the mention of death, while Brackenkit didn't even seem bothered by it. " I won't die! I'm too strong to die! "
"Really? Even if you get eaten by a fox?"
" Yeah! " said Brackenkit before pausing, " Wait…what's a fox again? " Firepaw smiled at that, starting to find the brashness in his innocent confidence charming. He reminded him of a certain someone who was ambitious as a kit himself…
"You can ask your mother what a fox is…since you're going back to the nursery," said the ginger tom. Honestly, he would have been willing to let them look around past the gorse, but he was in enough gossip talk between the queens and he didn't want to make it worse by putting their kits in danger. " Awwwwww! " moaned Brackenkit, " I don't wanna! "
Cinderkit did look scared enough of going outside that she slowly began to walk back to the nursery. " Where are you going!? " hissed her brother in a panic before she was dipping out of sight into the nursery. Firepaw used the opportunity to step between Brackenkit and the entrance, slowly shepherding the complaining brown kit back into the nursery so he could begrudgingly stomp back towards his mother and fall asleep near her on a nearby nest.
The ginger tom heard movement from others in the den and stayed out of view, peeking in to see the two other nursery residents awake and about. In the back was Speckletail, a molly with a pale gold pelt that looked slightly darker than Sandpaw's fur and was adorned with darker marking. She was glaring at Brackenkit as he slunk back towards his nest, perhaps foreshadowing a lecture that was to come once his sleeping mother learned of his escapade. Near the front and across from Frostfur was Goldenflower, whose fur was closer to a burnt ginger than gold itself. The darker stripes around her fur was the only detail about her look that he could see beyond her swollen belly, which she was grooming with her tongue.
Firepaw didn't really want to be seen by the queens ever since Frostfur's scathing remarks about him to Ashkit and Fernkit. Besides, seeing how strict and cold she had been to the kits ruffled something deep inside of him that he didn't like, giving him an unexplainable kick of distaste. The ginger tom took more than a little pride in how opinionated he could be - the perks of being apprenticed to the leader of ThunderClan who seemed to enjoy his candid retorts - but he knew that speaking badly about the queens was pretty much unforgivable, especially when it came to how they parented their kits.
As he stood outside the nursery, Goldenflower noticed the tom lurking and looked up. Firepaw tensed, preparing for a scathing glare, but relaxed as the queen gave a warm smile at him. At least she seemed nice…maybe her kits wouldn't be raised to be intolerant of the kittypet from birth.
Firepaw recalled what Spottedleaf had told him the previous day. "Not everyone in this Clan associates you with your first day anymore. They've seen glimpses of your genuine talent and seen how much you care." Being raised by his family, Firepaw never really had room to realize he cared about what people thought of him because the only cats that he was around were his siblings and cats that wanted him dead. But even as early as living in Twolegplace did he notice that little prick of anxiety that he wasn't being seen the way he wanted to be seen. He didn't want to be an outcast, he wanted to be a unifying leader that everyone respected.
How could he get the respect he wanted from everyone that couldn't see him as anything more than a kittypet?
"Up early, I see," said a familiar voice nearby. Firepaw looked at Lionheart, who still looked unkempt as he shook out his fur.
"Yeah, couldn't sleep…" said the ginger tom quietly, "Also managed to catch some of the kits before they snuck out." Lionheart didn't seem too concerned, peeking in and smiling at Brackenkit who looked overjoyed to see him.
"Ahh, the little adventurer," said the deputy with a fatherly lightness in his voice, "He'll be a pawful, that one…I don't envy the cat who gets chosen to mentor him."
Firepaw nodded, a smile following as the stubbornness of the tom replayed in his head. "He's got a lot of guts if he's trying to sneak out of camp early…well, if someone like you mentored him, I think he'd be a great warrior."
Lionheart gave a sad nod. "I wish I could mentor him, but…well, it's not exactly common for parents to mentor their own kits. Besides, Frostfur wouldn't let me anyway."
That was unexpected. "I thought you were still fathering the kits? Why wouldn't she?" asked Firepaw, raising an eyebrow. The deputy looked uncomfortable and regretful as he thought about his answer - the most mortal the apprentice had seen the massive warrior before.
"Well, to put it simply…I was not a cat in a good place for a long time. I made a lot of bad decisions that hurt a lot of cats, including one that…well, hurt her as well. She has every right to not forgive me, and I'm just grateful that she's allowing me and Whitestorm to parent them." A chill ran through Firepaw's spine at that. Lionheart, someone who seemed crafted in the very fires of honor and nobility, had done things that had alienated his former mate to be nothing but an acquaintance.
"I like to think I'm better now…we all have Whitestorm to thank for that," said the deputy with a glimmer in his eye, "But…every cat is complicated. The important thing I've noticed is that no two cats are complicated in the exact same way."
Firepaw gave a quiet nod, letting Lionheart continue to fawn over his beloved kits in silence. Then he backed up and cleared his throat, heading back for the center of the clearing with the apprentice in tow.
"I've been meaning to thank you, Firepaw," he said, "I know that we haven't had a chance to speak…candidly to each other like this, but I want to say that the kindness you've shown my apprentice has not gone unnoticed. He has been…well, he's become a lot more vocal and confident since you've befriended him, and he's mentioned many times how grateful he is that you're around."
Firepaw glanced back to the apprentice den as he spoke. "I thought Graypaw was always vocal and confident."
Lionheart chuckled. "Oh yes, he has always been vocal . But before you came along, he was very much in his own head. I know I can be a bit strict with him sometimes…" Firepaw almost rolled his eyes as he remembered the deputy screaming at the gray tom after he had leaped at Dustpaw, "...but for a long time I was worried that I would never be able to build a relationship with him. And I think you being around has enabled him to…be better."
There was this talk of Graypaw again, that being of such high praise that Firepaw didn't think it could be truth at first. They were friends , yes, but his friend was talking about him as if he had changed his life. Firepaw didn't believe he had changed Graypaw's life - if anything, he was actively withholding information that would change his friend's life for the worse right now. But now he had Spottedleaf and Lionheart relaying messages of him being such a beacon of light in his world that he was beginning to grow nervous that he had missed something.
"You seem surprised," Lionheart noted.
"Yeah, just…it can't have been all me to make him confident and stuff, right? I mean…Bluestar told me about Yellowfang being a kit-killer right after you found out and I kept it from him," said Firepaw quietly, "We've just been friends for a while now, so how have I changed his life for the better?"
The deputy's eyes twinkled a little bit. "Take it from me, Firepaw. Sometimes the little things that you will never notice will make you extraordinary to others. Sometimes, you get reasons and sometimes the connection just…happens."
Firepaw had a feeling the deputy was trying to say something, but he couldn't pick up on it. He thought back to the Gathering, how out of sorts he was when he was talking to Onewhisker. The ginger tom respected Bluestar immediately because of her position as both leader and mentor, and Lionheart got the same courtesy through being deputy. Yet there he was, unable to cobble a sentence or even take his eyes off of the tom from the very second he had looked at him. That wasn't respect he was feeling. It was something more raw, something that made his heart race and insides prickle, that polluted his brain with thoughts he was unable to rationalize. Some kind of vivacious hunger.
Was that how Graypaw felt about him? Surely not…they were just close friends. And yet here he was, getting two testimonies from two different cats seemingly trying to tell him something was different between them.
Firepaw never had friends outside of his own family (if he was to even call them friends) until he met Graypaw so he wasn't exactly an expert , but surely this was what strong friendship was. Right?
"Is there…something you're trying to tell me?" said Firepaw, looking up at the regal tom. Lionheart just shrugged at that, though the apprentice caught the smallest flash of exasperation in his gaze.
"I don't believe there's anything more that I can say," he said lightly, "I'm just telling you what Graypaw told me."
Great. Another mystery to solve on the day when he swore off of them. At least this one wasn't foretelling of danger, but Firepaw was certainly frustrated with how there was some solution that was right in front of him and he couldn't see it. Desperately not wanting to let his day get ruined by his discomfort of the queens and the deputy's lack of clarity, he immediately volunteered for the first morning patrol when Lionheart began putting it together.
"Firepaw, since Bluestar won't be up for this patrol…" said the deputy, "I'll send you out with Runningwind and Mousefur. Start out by the ShadowClan border, make sure that there wasn't any activity last night…if there's no happening, then head on through RiverClan and make sure they're staying across the water."
Firepaw had hoped that he would be grouped with someone he knew instead of two of the warriors he didn't, but he wanted to get to know other warriors, so he supposed he got what he asked for. How many times until he learned to make his wishes more specific? The ginger tom met up with his two companions with a courteous nod and they set off, heading east towards the Thunderpath as the sun began to fully illuminate the sky above them.
Firepaw didn't like how on edge he felt through the first part of the walk - they were his Clanmates. He had no reason to be nervous. Yet the ginger tom awkwardly trailed behind the two others as they followed the path along Twolegplace, the acrid scent of the Thunderpath beginning to break through the peaceful atmosphere of the forest.
Runningwind, the lean light-brown tabby tom, was the first to break the silence. "So is everything alright? From yesterday?"
"Huh?"
"Oh, you just…ran out of camp in a panic looking for Spottedleaf. I was worried that someone was dying." Ah. Firepaw's full recollection of the previous day was a clouded haze, but he certainly remembered the panic. And though he never got the catharsis he wanted, he was at least… less on edge than what was usual over the past week.
"Yeah, yeah…just…" said the ginger tom quietly, "Just got…a little nervous, that's all."
"From what I heard, you were more than just a little nervous," said Mousefur - the short and dusk-brown she-cat - with a raised eyebrow, "Not often that an apprentice races out of camp like that."
"Well, let's be considerate for a second," said Runningwind, "We are facing imminent threats to our camp which the two of us have never experienced, and he can't finish his warrior training cause we're throwing out border patrols. I would also be stressed."
"You're stressed right now , mousebrain."
"Yeah, but like…I would be more stressed than I am right now."
"That's not possible. You would be dead."
"Well, thankfully this isn't about me," retorted Runningwind with that bite of snark that was saved for sibling bickering, "But Spottedleaf is really good at helping cats calm down. She definitely got me through some rough times…there were days where she was the only way I could fall asleep when things got real bad-"
"Pretty sure those were the drugs, Runningwind," interjected Mousefur with a side glance.
" Poppy seeds are medicinal seeds that helped me fall asleep at night," snapped the tom in frustration, " Catmint is a drug. Poppy seeds are not."
"They're both drugs. They both drug you. That's why they're called drugs- "
"Look, I'm fine, " snapped Firepaw indignantly, "Yes, I am nervous. And I do wish that I could finish my training so Bluestar would make me a warrior, but as long as the Clan is safe, I'm…"
They had stopped. Firepaw looked up curiously and saw that Mousefur was now staring at him intently, her blue eyes now focused so hard on his green that he was quickly beginning to grow uncomfortable.
"Say that again."
Firepaw blinked. "Uh, what?"
"'Warrior.' Say that word again."
"Oh StarClan," murmured Runningwind in exasperation, "Can you not do this right now? We have to make sure ShadowClan didn't-"
"They didn't invade us, Runningwind; if they were going to, they would have a week ago. This is more important," said Mousefur, "Now say the word, Firepaw. Please."
While her brother groaned, Firepaw uncomfortably glanced at the she-cat's sudden transfixion and awkwardly spoke out the word. "Warrior."
"No, no…like…Say it in a sentence," instructed Mousefur, "Say…'I really want to be a warrior.' That sentence. Back to me."
"Wait, what? What's going on-"
"Just roll with it, Firepaw," said Runningwind, more irritated than anything, "There's no stopping her once she gets going…"
"Gets going with what- "
"Just say the sentence," Mousefur almost growled. And Firepaw was so bewildered that he basically had to oblige.
"I really want to be a warrior," he said slowly, trying to focus on where her eyes were - it looked like they were staring right into his mouth?
"Okay, let me think…" said the she-cat, narrowing her eyes for a moment. "I'm gonna ask a series of questions and I want you to answer them for me as fast as you can, okay?"
"Wha-...okay?"
"Great," said Mousefur, continuing to look right at Firepaw's lips, "What is the color of blood?"
"I-...Red?"
"What do you call food that's gone bad?"
"Trash? No, wait-... crowfood. "
"And what is Twolegplace made of?"
"Houses?"
Firepaw didn't know if this was a quiz or something, but now Mousefur was mouthing things out, changing the way her tongue moved with every word. Apparently this was a regular thing for Runningwind, who looked impatient and annoyed rather than confused or creeped out. At this point, the apprentice was too baffled by what had just happened without warning that he didn't think to ask what the point of this was until she was done.
"So…why did…wha-"
Then Mousefur spoke. " Nice weather we got today. Isn't that right, Firepaw?"
Except it wasn't in her normal voice. It was a perfect city accent.
The voice was so perfect that she could have said that sentence in the city and not be considered a foreigner. Firepaw's eyes went wide and jaw dropped as Mousefur gave a cheeky grin. "Nailed it."
" Wha-...How…how did you do that? "
"Oh, I've been wanting to try and figure out how to do that since you got here…and also, like, not be creepy about it, but that's a work in progress," said the she-cat, "Turns out all you gotta do is give a little extra roll to the 'r' and slack your jaw a bit…"
"Okay, so…" Runningwind jumped in when Firepaw turned his panicked look to him, "Mousefur…since she went to her very first Gathering, she's had a bit of an obsession with accents."
"It's not just the accent, Runningwind. It's the dialect . It's how things change between Clans and regions." The blue in Mousefur's eyes was suddenly blazing bright, perhaps brighter than a pair of eyes should have been, "Even though we live in such a small patch of land, there's so much diversity to be found between both Clans and how they speak. You know how you say mousebrain when someone is acting stupid, Firepaw? Well, ShadowClan says ' pigeon-brain' because pigeons are the only birds that land on their territory frequently - and they consider them dumb because they always land at or near the Thunderpath so they're the piece of prey native to their territory that get killed by monsters the most. Look, I get that the overprotectiveness of our borders and the hostility between interbreeding between Clans is inherently problematic, but we have four unique dialects living next to each other as neighbors! "
This was a lot for Firepaw to process already and he had a feeling they were simply clawing at the surface. "Wait…so you can imitate any accent? In the forest?" the apprentice asked as the patrol continued making their way along the border.
"Not even the forest," said Runningwind, looking back at the apprentice with an amused glow in his eyes, "She can even pick up on accents outside the forest. One time when we were apprentices, we had a frequent visitor from Twolegplace roaming around the outskirts of the territory. Instead of chasing him out or killing him, Mousefur faked being the ghost of a kittypet and told him that we were ' ruthless wildcats ' who 'ate rabbits whole and sharpened their claws on… ' Wait, what was it you said?"
"Old cat bones," Mousefur said, "I almost said dog bones, but changed my mind because that was a little too ridiculous."
"Anyways, he bought it," said Runningwind with a grin, "Ran all the way back to Twolegplace mewling for his mama. Never saw him again after that…"
Firepaw was shaking his head slowly at first. He didn't believe it, it sounded all too ridiculous. But then he remembered something…something very distinct about one of the residents of Twolegplace. What had Smudge said before he went out into the forest, again?
"Wait…" said the ginger tom slowly, "Light plump tabby? Pretty fat?"
Mousefur's eyes widened. "As a matter of fact, yes. Why?"
Firepaw's jaw fell so wide it could have been mistaken for a yawn. " It was YOU!? Henry got that rumor from YOU?! I thought he was lying this whole time!"
Neither sibling could believe it, Mousefur's face frozen in shock as Runningwind laughed in disbelief. "Cats are actually spreading that!? Great StarClan, I can't believe it!" The three of them jeered in incredulous shock at the revelation, only realizing that they were near the ShadowClan border when the roar of a passing monster made them come back to their senses.
"That's absolutely crazy…" said Firepaw, "All this time…I mean, he went to the Cutter before I arrived there and he hasn't left his garden. I thought he had always been lazy and was just making it up."
"Wow…how many kittypets do you think you scared from straying into ThunderClan, then?" said Runningwind to his sister, "Because that had to be seasons ago."
"Yeah, it was…" said Mousefur, chuckling to herself, "If only my Clan impressions had that level of impact. Cause I've been studying them for over half my life and I haven't even gotten the chance to do a prank yet."
Firepaw was now fully bought into Mousefur's imitation proficiency. "So you can do impressions of all of the Clans?"
"Oh, they're not impressions. At this point, Firepaw, I can become whatever Clan I wish. See, watch…" The she-cat slightly hunched her shoulders down and opened her mouth just enough so her fangs were visible even at rest. " ThunderClan scum! Trespassing on our rightful territory!" she snarled in an accent that was so uncannily close to a ShadowClan cat that the apprentice got chills. If Mousefur was somewhere he couldn't see, he was sure that he would have fallen for it.
"This is incredible…" raved Firepaw, "Does the rest of the Clan know? I mean, you could probably sneak into any Clan territory you like!"
"Well, the first problem is that no one really cares, " said Runningwind bluntly, "Y'know how some cats can get about the 'fundamentals' of hunting and fighting…they just see what she's got as a waste of time. Plus, the list of productive ways to talk like other Clans is quite low when espionage isn't needed."
"But what if we do?" said Firepaw, "I mean, ShadowClan might attack us any day now! Mousefur, you could go in as a spy and listen in on Brokenstar!"
Mousefur laughed incredulously. "StarClan, Firepaw, do you think I have a death wish? My scent would immediately give me away no matter how well I masked myself. Plus, I'm definitely not a fighter…" she gestured to a nasty scar on her shoulder that still showed scarring between lines of fur, "That's Runningwind's job. Yes, he actually has a purpose."
"Unnecessary!" retorted the tom, "I'll have you know that I can beat any WindClan cat in a race. I think. I haven't actually tried, but I could. "
Firepaw blinked. "Wait…' Running wind?' So that means that you were named Runningkit ?"
The tom in question drooped his head, definitely having heard that question before while Mousefur grinned mischievously. "It's because I was supposed to be an only kit, but StarClan realized that I would be too powerful so they snatched a kit due in WindClan and gave it to our parents just so he could annoy me."
"That is not what happened," the tom rolled his eyes, "We actually don't know why…our parents died of greencough before we realized that the name was questionable at all. Incredibly rude of them, I will say."
"I don't know what StarClan was thinking when they made us, honestly," said Mousefur with a nod, "We could have been two normal cats who took mates and had kits and stuff, but instead we got stuck with a stupid name and a useless quirk. Guess that's just how life goes, sometimes. You learn to live with it."
Firepaw nodded. They had finished walking the strip of the ShadowClan border and turned towards WindClan when Mousefur spoke up again. "How about you? What's the city like? Seems pretty hectic if you're willing to try and kill Longtail on the first day."
So they hadn't completely moved on from the first day. The ginger tom noted, though, that the question was out of genuine curiosity. He didn't think that a pretty experienced warrior would be so interested in something so insignificant as the way he talked, so Firepaw felt comfortable talking about it a little.
"I grew up with…seven siblings? Two litters, born on the street. I never got to meet my dad, so it was just my mom. And she was the first cat to tell me things like…'The world is dangerous, the only way to survive is to learn how to fight back.' And there were a bunch of cats in the city that would kill us on sight if we saw them, so we had to learn how to hunt and be sneaky…and fighting wasn't even that much training anyway. Just a few moves to defend yourself and then...well, go for the kill. I learned all that the moment I could walk."
"StarClan…" breathed Runningwind, "You must have been…four or five moons?"
"Something like that," shrugged Firepaw, "And I never really got to know my sibs cause they were always out hunting and providing. We'd never be allowed to go anywhere that we could be seen…Now that I think about it, I don't know how we survived the cold season there." It was a daunting thought. Nine mouths all kept fed enough to make it through the ruthless leafbare…he could have as much animosity towards his mother and her Draconian parenting as he pleased, but he couldn't deny it got them through the harshest season with no deaths.
"So…what changed?" said Mousefur, "I've never heard of this 'city' until you came around…how'd you end up here?"
"Well, uh…"
Any interest in talking about himself was suddenly gone. It was like a pool of words had dried up in his mouth, preventing him from vocalizing what had happened that night. He knew what had happened and the result, but the details were muddled. Almost warped through revision after revision of the nightmare that played in his head. The feelings he felt were preserved, always that of dread, horror, grief and a satisfied craving…but it was like there was a hole in his brain patched up with a hastily constructed bridge. Again and again, he opened his mouth to start telling the story, but every time he stopped himself. That's not how it went. I can't tell the story wrong.
But what was the right version of the story? Surely he remembered. Surely.
"I…I don't remember…" he said quietly, staring into space. It was a harrowing revelation, that the very thing that he once wished he could forget day after day was now gone, precisely extracted from his mind. Runningwind and Mousefur exchanged a look, one that only siblings could read, before nodding and returning to the walk.
"The important thing is that you ended up in Twolegplace where ThunderClan saw you," said Mousefur, "And they brought you in…for no other reason beyond so you could witness my amazing awesomeness." Firepaw laughed at that, but the chill didn't leave his body. How could he have forgotten? It wasn't right how suddenly, how quietly it had been removed. He felt unsettled…like something in the air now felt wrong with the loss of memory.
Except the air actually did feel wrong, as confirmed when Runningwind scented it, too. They were well into the border between ThunderClan and WindClan, but the ShadowClan scent was lingering. Even though they were facing away from their territory, the wind in their faces brought the scent of ShadowClan as if they were close by.
"That's strange…" said Mousefur quietly.
"Brokenstar did say they had hunting rights on the territory…" said Firepaw, though his voice was taut with nerves, "Could this…be them using it?"
"Tallstar's a coward for allowing him to walk all over WindClan, but…" started Runningwind, "This is really far in. I don't think they're too far from WindClan's…"
Runningwind stopped. Then Mousefur got it. And lastly, Firepaw.
"Surely not…" murmured the she-cat, "He wouldn't…"
"If there was any cat ambitious enough to try, it would be Brokenstar…" Runningwind turned to Firepaw, "Get up on that tree over there, as high as you can. Look across WindClan territory and see if you can see if ShadowClan is there."
The ginger tom didn't waste a second. He ran to the closest tree he could find and began to climb up to the tallest branch. Firepaw's heart was racing…Everything since the Gathering had felt like a standoff. Performative action to flaunt their defenses in anticipation of the ShadowClan leader making the first move.
But this could be just like the Gathering. What if, once again, Brokenstar did make the first move? What if it was a move no one could have possibly suspected he would do?
He got up onto the tallest branch and looked out across the plains of WindClan. The sun was fully up now, showing a gorgeously unobstructed blue sky that made the grass look especially green and healthy. Yet in the very distance could Firepaw see a dip in the moors, with tiny figures of cats milling about. But off further north and to the west could he also see a second group slowly backing further and further into the distance.
And Firepaw was too far away to see the intricate details of the feline standing between the congregation and the camp, but he could see that the cat had a broken tail.
The sensation of dread was back. This time it truly was warranted, the source of a truly devastating realization. "What is it, Firepaw?" called up Runningwind, and the apprentice could only look down at his new friends with terrified eyes. The words could barely be heard over the change in winds, a change that told of defeat and terror.
"ShadowClan has taken their camp! WindClan is gone! "