FIVE.
cw: minor transphobia (no hate speech, just old people not understanding)
There was no rain the next morning, but the ground was still damp from the downpour. Firepaw was glad that he was off the hook from training that day - he didn't exactly have a successful history with battling on wet soil thanks to Yellowfang. In an additional twist of fortune, Bluestar and Lionheart were off discussing what to do with said ShadowClan warrior, meaning Firepaw missed out on a training session that was run by Tigerclaw.
"Well, if I knew that this would have happened, I would have run into ShadowClan territory much sooner!" Graypaw had whined before he left for training that day.
By sunhigh, Spottedleaf declared that he had healed from his wounds and was free to go about the camp without any bandaging. Firepaw was at least glad to be up and walking again, but there wasn't much to do since he wasn't allowed outside of camp by himself. Bluestar was busy with Lionheart, Spottedleaf said that he couldn't leave camp to get herbs (interesting that Ravenpaw was the exception to that rule, but he didn't think too long on it) and the other apprentices were out there getting worked to death. The only presence that he could feel impeding on him was, unfortunately, the one that was most dangerous.
Almost overnight, Firepaw's perception of the former ShadowClan medicine cat transformed from abject terror to avid fascination. The more he learned about her from the rumors Graypaw had picked up on, as well as the tidbits from other warriors sharing tongues, the more he really wanted to understand. Born as a warrior and mate to the deputy of ShadowClan until she was forced to become a medicine cat…it was clear that she was one of the most revered names in the Clan. But she was also a kit-killer. Allegedly. And she wanted to kill Firepaw. Not allegedly.
It just didn't make sense in his head. She had gone from one of the most respected cats in the entire forest to a vicious, kit-murdering psychopath. Firepaw had tried to recall what she had been like in the moments before she fell into a furious bloodlust, but of course all he could see were the seconds he had been closest to death. The fact that he had a chance to talk to StarClan gave him hope, but what if they just…didn't respond to him? Firepaw had not been religious before coming to ThunderClan, so what if despite the fact that he believed in them they didn't talk to him? What if they didn't talk to him because he had been a kittypet? Well, that would at least explain the rampant xenophobia he faced.
He needed answers. And he wanted answers now. But he couldn't get answers now. So he was stuck just pacing around the camp restlessly, peeking into the dark nursery to see if he could get a glimpse of the ShadowClan molly.
"You alright, Firepaw?" asked Whitestorm on his third lap around the camp. The older warrior was standing guard outside the nursery with Longtail, who was electing to pretend that Firepaw did not exist. "You seem restless."
Whitestorm didn't know about Brokenstar's allegations, so Firepaw had to be careful. "Yeah, I'm just…glad I'm back on my paws again," he said awkwardly, "Just sucks that there's nothing for me to do since I'm cooped up here."
The white-furred warrior chuckled and Firepaw immediately knew that he had made a mistake. "Oh Firepaw…there's always something to do around here. Longtail, our guest is asleep…why don't you stand guard by yourself for a minute?"
"Yeah, sure," said the tabby cat gruffly. As he moved into position, Firepaw got a good look at him for the first time since their near-deadly scrap. Not only did he seem incredibly tense, even more than Ravenpaw was, but around his throat were tiny little scars making up two curves on both sides. That had been where his teeth had gone. According to Graypaw, Longtail had been so scared to swallow whole food that Spottedleaf had to scoop up pieces of cut up prey and feed him herself. Firepaw had the feeling that wasn't true because surely Spottedleaf would not be talking to him if that were the case.
He didn't think about it much, that rush he felt when he nearly killed Longtail. He did have other things on his mind that occupied him, but every time he recalled the prickling sensation of nearly killing someone that had mocked him, gauded him into a fight that he was more than ready to draw blood for…
City lights…gentle rain…the roar of the monster…
Nope. He wasn't going to think about that. Hastily, Firepaw turned away before Longtail actually had to acknowledge his existence by telling him to stop staring at his neck and joined Whitestorm just outside the elder's den. "Now then…Lionheart told me that you have a…task you have to complete, so since you're up and walking again, you might as well get a headstart!"
Firepaw's eyes lit up as he saw the queens and kits, but Whitestorm quickly broke his heart. "Ah ah…your task involves our lovely elders."
Whatever Firepaw was expecting the task to be, changing the nests was so much worse. Since the elders rarely left the den, they couldn't go to the designated spot in camp to…relieve themselves. Usually Whiteheart was the one to do this task since he genuinely enjoyed being around the elders, but he was happy to allow the apprentices to take the load off of his hands. By the time they had discarded the last nest and replaced the new one, Firepaw felt like he was about to pass out.
"Well?" said Whitestorm with a sympathetic, witty smile, "You still feel bored, young one?"
"I feel like I'll never scent anything again," complained the ginger tom, whose face was scrunched up as he tried to shake the smell away.
"Oh, don't worry…it gets better the more you do it," said the warrior nonchalantly. He perked up as a hunting patrol returned with a sizable haul. "Ah, perfect! Let's go grab some food to bring to the den."
Firepaw at first thought that since they barely went outside, they didn't need to eat much, but he watched in shock as the elder named Smallear ate the largest piece of prey that was on the pile in only a couple of bites. "Mmehhhhh…the prey's gettin' skinny…" he complained, and Whitestorm had to suppress a chuckle at Firepaw's stunned face.
"They ain't gettin' skinny…ya just gettin' fat!" retorted the she-cat Dappletail as she daintily took small bites out of her food.
"Be nice, you two…" said the white-furred warrior, turning to the apprentice. "They bicker a lot, but trust me…they have some great stories. Here, lemme show ya…hey Halftail! Firepaw here wants to listen to a story." He raised his voice and nudged the big dark brown tabby tom with a distinctively stumpy tail, who brightened up in delight.
"A story? From little ol' me?" said the old tom - Firepaw noticed that he looked quite a bit younger from some of the older cats in the den, "Ooh, it's been a while…hmmm, I gotta think about this…"
"It really hasn't been a while, but he always gets excited when someone asks him…like the mousebrain he is," whispered Dappletail teasingly into Firepaw's ear before Halftail's eyes were clear once more. "Ah, I got it…well, here's a story about a little ol' troublemaker named Whitekit."
"Ohh…" said Whitestorm, wilting visibly where he stood. "We don't…we don't need to hear that one again."
"Nooo no no, you said tell a story, young one, and I'm gonna tell it," said Halftail with a grin, "And y'know why it's good? He's never let his mate tell it." The elders chuckled mischievously as Firepaw looked up disbelievingly at the senior warrior, who sighed.
"You'll…you'll know why when you hear it."
So Halftail told the story of young Whitestorm, born to Bluestar's sister and eventually raised by Bluestar when she passed away. To Firepaw's shock, Whitestorm had actually been very, very close friends with Tigerclaw when they were apprentices, so much so that their "friendship" began to catch the suspicions of Whitestorm's father, Thistleclaw. Firepaw knew that Thistleclaw was not someone he was supposed to like when the other elders hissed and jeered every time Halftail brought up his name (Whitestorm seemed to be okay with it).
"So around the time Blue started takin' care of him, Thistleclaw…" Halftail paused for hissing, "was all like, 'You can't talk to him no more, he doesn't want to be strong as ya.' And he was listenin' and avoidin' him…really sad, honestly. But then when shebecame deputy…ooh, Thistle was mad cause he wanted that spot. So he started spreadin' rumors about how…'oh, Whitestorm likes cuddlin' with toms instead o' she-cats ever since Blue's been raisin' him' And ya know Blue was pissed when she heard about it, but ya know what little ol' Whitestorm did?"
Firepaw was completely invested. "What? What did he do?" he asked, tail swaying eagerly.
Halftail had a cheeky grin on his face. "Well, Thistle's all rantin' in the center of camp, tryin' to get Bluestar all riled up. But then Whitestorm hears this…and he goes right up to Tigerclaw who's watchin' nearby…" With both front paws sheathed, Halftail suddenly grabbed at the sides of the apprentice's face. "...he grabs him right like that and puts his lips on Tiger's! Right in the middle o' camp!"
Firepaw lost it, roaring with laughter alongside the elders. There was no way that was true, it couldn't be. The ginger tom just could imagine Whitestorm doing that to…well, Tigerclaw. But as he looked up to Whitestorm, the warrior gave a small, embarrassed nod. Soon enough, the apprentice was laughing like he had known these elders all their lives, his sides almost throbbing in pain as he got a hold of himself.
"Woah…I mean…I can't believe it!" said Firepaw, eyes gone wet with laughter as he wiped them with his tail.
"Yes…Lionheart did not like that very much," said Whitestorm, who looked flushed, "Mainly because, well, he was going through some questions of his own. But it all worked out in the end."
"Yes, wise ol' Whitestorm…ohh, that was a hoot to tell at the Gatherin'" said Patchpelt with sparkling eyes, "Y'know, Redtail always got a kick outta that story…"
Halftail's eyes grew misty at the mention of the late deputy. "Yeah…yeah…I know he's in StarClan tellin' that one."
Firepaw grew curious at the suddenly somber tone. He knew that Redtail had died recently as deputy, but everyone seemed to grow sad about his passing, especially Halftail. "Redtail was Halftail's apprentice," said Whitestorm quietly, "And one of the brightest cats I've ever known."
"Wait wait, Redtail was a 'she,' right?" called out Patchpelt, the statement making the warrior wince, "Cause I knew that she was a 'she…'"
"No, Patchpelt. Redtail's a 'he…' He was a she, but then she became a 'he.'"
"StarClan, it's always confusin'!" retorted Patchpelt, "He and she and the changing and all of that…why can't we just get rid of all those and just say names? Redtail was a fine warrior and Redtail was a fine deputy. There! Now I ain't gotta get corrected."
Whitestorm seemingly expected Firepaw's confusion and immediately answered. "Okay, so…you know the Cutter? I think the kittypet term is…uh, 'vet.'"
Firepaw nodded.
"And you know what the Cutter does, right?"
Another nod, slower this time. Firepaw's hind legs began to inch together just thinking about the place.
"Well, when the Cutter…did what the Cutter does, your friends probably, uh…didn't change. But if you were ask someone who's been to the Cutter if they were a tom or a molly…erm, how would you check?"
The ginger tom thought a minute. "You…wait, you can't."
"Exactly. So there's no point in saying that they're wrong. What that cat says is what they are. It's not about what's down there, it's just about…do you feel like a tom or a molly? And that's their choice to make. And that is what Redtail believed - he said "I know I don't have all the parts of a tom, but I feel like a tom."
It took a bit of critical thinking, but it began to click for Firepaw. "Ohhhhhhhh…" Whitestorm looked very proud as he patted the apprentice on the back with his tail. "See? Not that hard to understand."
"Unless yer as old as rat droppin's!" retorted Patchpelt.
The escapism was lovely and Firepaw left the elder's den in very high spirits. He wouldn't say he was looking forward to the "changing the nests" part, but he understood why Whitestorm loved being around them. Hearing stories like that and how cats were revered back in those stories, from Bluestar's predecessor Sunstar taking on leadership of ThunderClan after the previous leader abandoned them to even some escapades of other warriors…he wondered one day if he could do something that would make elders tell stories about him. Obviously something like Whitestorm's hijinks was not what he had in mind, but he was back once again on the fantasy of glory. Firepaw still believed that he could - no, he would be great here. But the fresh and imminent threat of death still hampered him down.
The kits were out playing with the queens supervising and chatting. As he and Whitestorm left the elder's den, Firepaw slowed and watched them play for a bit. Their adorable mews and the way that they looked like they barely knew how to walk on their own four paws, the way their voices were pitched and eyes shined with the wonder of the small world of the ThunderClan camp around them…a symbol of innocence, of life, of hope.
How could anyone possibly kill them?
The more he thought about Yellowfang, the less and less his gut bought into the "kit-killer" accusations. He had been surrounded by violence his whole life - the city where he grew up was a place where kits would often starve to death. Some of his siblings nearly died in kithood because of the lack of food. But this forest, these Clans felt like one of the safest places to raise a kit. They had protection from intruders, they had milk, they had healthcare and they were obviously of high concern to the rest of the Clan as Firepaw thought back to how Whitestorm was immediately sent back to warn the camp of a stray fox that turned out to be a non-issue.
He understood the weight of being a kit-killer, undoubtedly. But the fact that Firepaw couldn't even imagine Tigerclaw killing a kit? If he couldn't do it in any scenario, no one could.
"Hey Whitestorm?" asked Firepaw suddenly, "Do you, uh…do you and Lionheart have any kits?"
Whitestorm blinked in surprise before slowly, carefully answering. "No…but Lionheart does." The warrior gestured to the queen with sleek white fur not unlike his own, "Back when he first became a warrior, he was mates with Frostfur over there, and they had their second litter…ah, it had to have been a couple seasons ago. But what happened was Lionheart cared for Frostfur but wasn't really…happy? He still loves the kits, obviously, but…when we became mates, we agreed to help Frostfur take care of them. I'd tell you the story, but it's…really long and doesn't really paint either of us in a competent light," said Whitestorm with a chuckle at the end. "Any reason why you ask?"
Firepaw looked back at the kits, the kits Whitestorm had agreed to raise. They weren't much smaller than he was, now that he thought about it, but he still just couldn't understand. "I just…don't get how…" he was about to gesture to Yellowfang's nursery before he remembered Whitestorm wasn't supposed to know and cut himself off.
Yet the warrior seemed to figure it out anyway. "Ah. This is about Yellowfang, yeah?"
Terror gripped Firepaw in that moment. He was in so much trouble if word got out that he gave information away. "Ghh…please don't tell anyone-"
"Relax," said Whitestorm with that same easygoing chuckle, "I'm mates with the deputy, Firepaw. Every secret he has is also mine to share - that's the beauty of being mates with power."
"So…you don't believe it, right?" said Firepaw quietly, "I just…I can't."
Whitestorm's eyes darkened and he sighed. "Listen…there are a lot of bad cats out there, Firepaw. Bad cats who are willing to do unthinkable things. My father was one of those cats…that story Halftail told was true, but there were so many worse things he did…to my mother and to Bluestar. I don't want to believe that it's true because I believe that StarClan helps cats choose good over evil like that, but…trust me. The world becomes a lot more dangerous when you have kits to protect."
Whitestorm's eyes turned back to the two litters, the cats he had taken on the burden to help Lionheart protect. Six kits, not with a drop of his blood but every ounce of his love. The warrior had always been peaceful and easygoing with as sharp a wit as one could have. Yet Firepaw didn't want to imagine how much blood he would spill if it were his kits that were killed in place of ShadowClan's.
Eyes cold with viciousness, Firepaw turned back towards the nursery where he could see Yellowfang awake and moving about. If anyone was capable of that unspeakable evil, he saw no scenario where they should be allowed to live.
Graypaw was very quick to tell Firepaw about how horrible training was that day when he finally returned near sunset.
"He was just all…'you're doing this wrong' and 'you're a terrible fighter' and ' a kittypet could kill you if you wanted to get into a fight!' I mean, you could probably kill me if we got into a fight, but you're not even a kittypet anymore. Anyways, the most annoying part is when Dustpaw goes up to spar and the mousebrain doesn't look like he's been out at fighting practice! I don't think he landed on his pads even once! And of course Tigerclaw doesn't go after his throat like he did with ours cause Darkstripe is there and he's all like 'nyehhh heh heh, there's potential in you…'" Graypaw put so much emphasis on the word "potential" that some spittle accidentally got on Firepaw's whiskers, "It's just ridiculous, cause I definitely think the three of us are the best and yet we get absolutely nothing from those…dim-witted foxbrains. Ravenpaw, back me up here!"
Yes, Ravenpaw was also present, having taken up Firepaw's offer to share a rabbit with the pair. He was still his quiet self, not talking much and chewing slowly, but he seemed to be enjoying himself not undoubtedly because Tigerclaw had been sent out on evening patrol and couldn't pester him. "I mean…it wasn't that bad. I just did poorly, that's all."
"What are you talking about!?" said Graypaw incredulously, voice raised so much he got some glances from other warriors sharing tongues in the clearing, "You were amazing! You would've had Sandpaw beaten if Tigerclaw hadn't broken up the fight!" Firepaw furtively glanced back at the apprentice den, where he noticed Sandpaw kicking around and looking particularly sour - at least, more sour than usual. Obviously the ginger tom wished it were Dustpaw who had been that thoroughly embarrassed, but Sandpaw was rude to Graypaw quite often so he didn't feel bad.
"Look, it's just…not my strength," said Ravenpaw, clearly uncomfortable, "Y'know that I don't have much muscle, there's not much I can do about it."
"What kinda mousedung are you on?" said Graypaw, giving him a good-natured shove before running his paw over his foreleg, "I mean, look at this. If some cat looks at this and goes 'no muscle,' they have bats in their brain!" As the gray-furred tom gestured for Firepaw to take a closer look, he noticed how wide Ravenpaw's eyes were at that. By the time he pulled back, the black-furred apprentice was taking a few extra bites out of his rabbit.
"Well, I'm guessing your day was at least more fun than ours was, then?" said Graypaw, "I heard Whitestorm say something about you having to change the elder's nest, though. That's gross."
Firepaw wished he didn't remember that happening, but beyond hearing embarrassing stories about the beloved warrior and learning about how being transgender worked everything in his day revolved around Yellowfang. Sitting in front of his two closest friends, he really didn't like the fact that he was sitting on information that could damn the entire Clan's reputation. Really, he wished that he had someone to talk to about all of this. Well, Whitestorm was nice enough to give him some relief, but Lionheart and Bluestar seemed keen on keeping secrets from him, he hadn't even formally met two of the others and the fifth was Tigerclaw.
Ugh. The fact that Tigerclaw knew about Yellowfang left a bad taste in his mouth. There was no basis for it, but he had a gut feeling that it wouldn't take much for the tabby to use that information against him or someone else in the Clan for bad intentions.
That was another thing that was bothering him. Tigerclaw wasn't evil enough. Right from the beginning did his gut warn him that the tom was bad news, but what had he actually done that actually made him more than just a narcissistic prick? He was harsh on the apprentices, - fine, but Ravenpaw was keeping his lips shut about complaining about it - his friends were as approachable as nettles, - not really a sin, more just a sign of poor taste - and he just acted suspicious all the time. Firepaw always trusted his gut, but there really was nothing to support the animosity he felt towards Tigerclaw. A missing piece that was sitting in front of him all along that would put it all into place, confirm his suspicion that the tabby tom was more sinister than he thought.
At least he could talk about Tigerclaw. "Tigerclaw just…he sucks."
Graypaw looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Wow, did you not realize that until now?"
"No, I mean…he just feels off and it's really annoying," said Firepaw, voice hushed a bit now, "Because I feel like I should have reason to hate his guts, but it's all just 'he's mean and his friends are sewagebrains.' Like…there are cats in this forest who have done worse things before and I feel like he should be among them but I just don't have a reason why."
Graypaw contemplated that and looked equally frustrated when he came to that conclusion. "Aww, you're right! Wait, Ravenpaw, you're his apprentice. Surely you've come across something that is really bad about him…? Ravenpaw?"
The apprentice was frozen, eyes wide and mouth slack in terror and body shivering. He looked like he'd just seen a ghost.
Something was up. "Ravenpaw, are you alright?" said Firepaw cautiously.
Slowly, his horrified green eyes drifted towards the entrance before he shot up to standing. "I-I gotta go-" he murmured quickly before making a beeline right to the apprentice den. "Wait, Ravenpaw-" said Graypaw, going up to go after him before Firepaw stopped him with his tail, seeing what could have started his fretting. Tigerclaw had just returned from patrol and his eyes immediately landed upon the two of them. As Firepaw did the best glare he could to match, the tabby strolled on past the apprentice den and took a long look inside.
Dread pooled in the ginger tom's belly. He stared into the darkness of the den for five seconds…ten…twenty…until he slowly walked away and circled back to the prey pile. Momentary relief, but a look at Graypaw told them both that neither of them were satisfied.
"You're thinking what I'm thinking?" said the gray tom.
"Yeah," said Firepaw with a grave nod, "Ravenpaw knows something we don't. About Tigerclaw."
Graypaw looked especially distraught, which made sense considering how Ravenpaw had probably been his only friend before Firepaw arrived. "Ohh, I'm worried. I really want to ask him what's wrong, but he won't tell me…" Without a moment of hesitation, Firepaw stepped forward and laid his tail onto his shoulders, hoping to soothe him.
"We'll figure it out. He trusts you…he'll tell you eventually."
"But what if he doesn't? What if he just…keeps nodding and saying everything's fine when it's not!?" wailed Graypaw at a volume where Tigerclaw could not hear him. Firepaw didn't have an answer to that question. Ravenpaw had been a closed book since the moment they met and even though they were at least being friendly to each other, it was clear that the apprentice was hiding something. Perhaps because he knew the consequences of other cats finding out would possibly put him in danger.
Threatening your own apprentice - now that would be a justifiable reason to hate Tigerclaw. But what kind of devastating information could he possibly have?
"Go talk to him and make sure he's alright," said Firepaw, moving the half-eaten rabbit so that his friend could pick it up and take it to him, "I'll be there soon if he doesn't calm down." Graypaw nodded, brushing his tail along his spine in thanks as he grabbed the prey and walked to the den. The ginger tom had planned to watch Tigerclaw from afar, try to catch him in the act, when something much more concerning caught his eye.
Bluestar emerged from her den, Lionheart in tow. Head straight and eyes narrow, she made a beeline right for the prey pile and grabbed a mouse from the top before pivoting and heading right for the nursery. The two warriors on guard, Runningwind and Mousefur, stepped aside and allowed the ThunderClan leader to enter with the prey.
Oh boy. Firepaw had a feeling that he wanted to hear this, but with two warriors and now Lionheart standing guard between him and Yellowfang he had no chance of going in the front. He needed to be subtle somehow. Be able to listen in somewhere and not have the other warriors know that he was eavesdropping on this private conversation that probably involved him.
An idea popped into him. Finishing off the last of his prey, he slowly made his way over to the nursery, trying to look sleek and normal as he approached the cleft between the nursery and the elder's den…
"Where do you think you're going, Firepaw?" said Lionheart sternly.
"Just to make dirt."
The deputy narrowed his eyes and Firepaw scrunched up his face and tried to look embarrassed. "Please? It's an emergency."
Lionheart decided to not test his luck on whether he was lying and sighed, gesturing with his tail to go. That would at least get him a few minutes - he just needed enough to not be caught back behind the nursery taking a suspiciously long amount of time. Taking a deep breath and making his pawsteps light, he slowly inched up as close as he could to the wall of the nursery and listened in.
The first thing he heard was chewing. Not even the kind of chewing Graypaw - the sloppiest eater he knew - did, but the ravenous ripping apart of prey. Yellowfang was probably starving - Firepaw hadn't seen her eating anything since she got here, and this was how Bluestar was going to exchange information.
Eventually the chewing died down and Yellowfang's craggly voice came in softly through the wall. "You call that a meal? The kits in ShadowClan eat those for breakfast."
"You request a meal, you get a meal on our terms," said Bluestar, voice cold and authoritative, "Now…talk."
A contemplative pause. "What do you want to know?"
"Anything, really." Bluestar already seemed frustrated, as if this weren't her first attempt at bargaining information from the ShadowClan molly, "Brokenstar said you're exiled for killing kits, yet you were found hunting on ShadowClan territory and you nearly beat one of our apprentices to death. On our territory. I think there's plenty of places to start."
Another pause. "Well, the accusations are foxdung."
"Are they now?"
"Seriously?" said Yellowfang with a scoff, "Come on, Bluestar, I've known you the entire time you've been deputy. I know you've never trusted Brokenstar for a second. Besides…you of all cats should know about how emotional we mollies get over kits-"
Bluestar hissed, a venomous noise that made Firepaw's blood run cold. "Careful." she snarled dangerously, and the apprentice could almost see his leader with her claws out, ready to kill her then and there.
"Sorry, sorry," said Yellowfang, not sounding concerned for her life at all, "I'm just saying…if I really killed those kits, you think I'd be…I don't know, as normal as I am right now?" Firepaw would have retorted that absolutely nothing about Yellowfang was normal, but he kept his mouth shut.
"Well, we're going to talk to those who do know," threatened Bluestar, "By tomorrow night, we'll know your fate. And if you're willing to cooperate, an innocent verdict will perhaps not lead to your death."
Yellowfang was not scared, just incredibly unimpressed. "You're going to talk to StarClan. Am I supposed to be threatened by this?"
"If neither you nor ShadowClan will tell the truth, they certainly will."
"And when's the last time they gave you a straight answer, huh?" tested Yellowfang, "You think you're worth anything different? They've always been cryptic, Bluestar, with everything they say. Even when you ask for the simplest of wishes, like 'guidance through our Clan's darkest time,' they don't give you an answer. No…they give you a prophecy-"
"Enough!" shouted Bluestar, making Firepaw jump. His fur brushed against the back of the den, the apprentice tensed as he waited to see if his cover was blown.
The ginger tom's heart was racing now. All this vague talk about StarClan and being special…this was the first time he heard about a prophecy.
"Don't be such a kit, Bluestar," said Yellowfang, aggression leaking more and more into her voice, "You know what you've done. You know that you've latched onto something that will save you but you have no idea what the cost will be."
"You wouldn't know either, then," snarled Bluestar, "We both got the same prophecy, you know the same as I do."
Yellowfang laughed. A cold, grating, terrifying sound that felt like it went against nature. Like someone like her was never supposed to make a sound like that. "And what makes you so sure, O great leader of ThunderClan?"
There was a pause. Bluestar was definitely caught off guard. "You're bluffing. I know what you're doing - you're trying to get in my head. You'll always be ShadowClan, I suppose."
"But do you know what you're doing, Bluestar? Because I don't think you do…"
Firepaw wanted to pull away. He couldn't now. His breath was short and quick and his heart was hammering.
Yellowfang's voice was quiet yet seemed to scrape along the very edge of the apprentice's skin.
"Do you know what happens to you if you let him live?"
He had enough.
Gasping as if he were coming up for air, Firepaw stumbled back out from behind the den and into the clearing. The world was swirling around him, faster than he could possibly comprehend. The only noise he could hear was his heartbeat and his desperate heaves for breath. His claws dug into the ground as Yellowfang's words burrowed right into his psyche.
There was a prophecy. He didn't know what it was or what it said, but it involved him. And there was a section of the prophecy that…told of bad things that would happen unless he died.
Surely, Yellowfang was talking about him as the one who died, right? He was the special one, the one that Bluestar had called in from Twolegplace to join ThunderClan.
She couldn't possibly know. Yellowfang had to be lying - how else would Bluestar not get the same prophecy? It was a ploy just to get into Bluestar's head and that was all. Forget the fact that it justified why Yellowfang attacked him…except it didn't! Because why would the cussing ShadowClan medicine cat try to kill for a prophecy involving ThunderClan? It was for ThunderClan, right? Surely it had to be…
How could Yellowfang know so much and Bluestar know so little?
And then…
It hit him.
Suddenly the world stopped. It was like Firepaw had been sucked into a vacuum, somewhere without air. Every limb was weightless, endlessly drifting through a world that felt slow but was moving at an incomprehensible speed. There, the nursery, the center of the universe. Bluestar, Yellowfang, Lionheart, every single warrior that he could see was around. Like pieces in a puzzle.
But off to the side…
There, in her own den, peacefully sorting herbs without a care in the world…
"There is something…that you will come to know in the coming moons about you being in ThunderClan."
Of course.
Bluestar was hiding something. Lionheart was hiding something. Tigerclaw was hiding something. Ravenpaw was hiding something.
And now?
Spottedleaf could no longer be trusted.
a/n: we stan blue hair and pronouns whitestorm in this house !
ALSO sorry if the explanation about being trans is, like, weird. considering how much of the clans are based on ancient shit, i think that whitestorm and redtail even being the most progressive members of the clan haven't considered, like, a gender spectrum. i'm non-binary and even i went "eugh yeah they got work to do." just wanted to do justice for trans redtail since he is definitely canon.
chapter six will be released on july 31st.
any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.
with love,
cj
