Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors!

Title: Red Pearls

Summary: Brightfur just wanted to be a medicine cat. Her mentor, Ravenwind, has very different ideas on what that means- for her and for ShadowClan. With Ravenwind controlling her every move and more than willing to kill to keep it that way, Brightfur will need more than just luck to live to tell the tale.

Chapter Title: New Beginnings?

…

Ravenwind crumpled like dead leaves under Brightfur's paws. It was almost surprising how willingly the black molly fell, landing on her back with a solid thud. Needle-sharp claws slashed across her muzzle, startling Brightfur, but her grip didn't loosen as she pressed a paw to her throat, a few scarlet drops landing on Ravenwind's face.

Brightfur bared her teeth. "What did you say?" she asked, voice strained.

Ravenwind thrashed under her, tail flicking back and forth. "You heard me," she snapped. "I gave the raven to Slatestar. She has plenty of lives to spare."

She cursed under her breath. "That was supposed to be for you."

"Of course it was! You keep underestimating me, Brightfur. You think I wouldn't know the smell of deathberries? It's like we've never spoken before." Ravenwind's smile was a bit crooked as she regarded her apprentice. "Good try, kiddo. Now let me up."

Brightfur didn't budge. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins as he regarded the old medicine cat under her. What's stopping me from killing her right now? She pondered. I could end this with a single swipe.

Ravenwind seemed to recognize what she was thinking, and snorted. "You don't have the guts, Brightfur."

Her claws slid out, digging into her fur. Seasons of horrors welled up in Brightfur's mind- Flowerpaw's drowning; Leafleg's dilapidating body, rotten and empty; Burnstar's open throat, leaking blood onto the snow; and now Slatestar, rolling and gasping for breath in her den, her stomach full of poisons unknown to her. Even Nightclaw, murdered by Leopardpoppy's paw. Ravenwind had brought nothing but a lifetime of death and agony to ShadowClan.

And yet...

Brightfur couldn't kill her.

Not yet.

For all the pain, Brightfur still recalled good times, too. Ravenwind sitting with her at Darkkit's vigil, tail wrapping around her tiny body. How understanding she'd been those moons she'd longed to be with Hawkflower. The quiet warmth in her gaze when she announced her name to the Clan. Deep down, buried under layers of grief, was the wish to make Ravenwind proud of her. It made Brightfur angry at herself just thinking about it.

"You're a horrible person," she said, her grip already softening.

"Maybe," Ravenwind agreed steadily. "But you're no sign from StarClan yourself."

Brightfur hopped off her. She didn't stop, marching out of the medicine den without another word. Badgerthroat rushed to cut her off, noticing the blood on her lip, but she pushed past and out into the cold night.

The medicine cat had no real destination in mind. All she knew was that staying in that camp wasn't an option tonight. Brightfur soon found herself at the Thunderpath- and, almost on instinct, turned towards Highstones. It was too cloudy to consider communing with StarClan (if they'd even listen), but being that close to such an important relic would be far safer than sleeping in some random tree hollow.

Each pawstep was dragging behind her, tail low to the ground. Brightfur has been too angry to consider her actions before, but now she had nothing but her thoughts. I tried to kill someone. Twice. Brightfur snuck a peek at the sky. Flat, dismal clouds wrapped around the stars like pelts. Ravenwind got what she wanted. She made herself a successor. Now what?

In the distance, a twig snapped. Brightfur whirled around, claws peeking out from her paws. "If you're here to apologize," she called into the night. "Then you can forget it." The forest fell silent, as if considering the weight to her words. Perhaps Ravenwind had come to kill her instead? Brightfur had just attempted the same. She growled and lowered her head. "I won't make it easy on you, you flea-bitten-"

"Whoa, whoa!" a completely different voice meowed, and out of the inky darkness appeared the ginger-and-white pelt of Clover. "Remind me to not get on your bad side, fluffball."

Brightfur's hackles fell. "Oh. It's you."

"Don't sound all that happy to see me," she observed. "Bad time?"

"It's never a good time." She puffed out a sigh. "Sorry about that. I got into a bit of a spat with someone." Clover hummed acknowledgement as she approached, long tail lingering behind her like a flag. "How'd you get so deep into Clan territory, anyway? We're not exactly friendly to outsiders."

Clover laughed. "Oh, I noticed. I've been sniffing around for a couple of days, trying to find a way in." The molly sobered up, ears falling into a neutral line. "Listen, Brightfur. Is it true you can heal cats?"

Brightfur felt taken aback by the question. "It's my job, yeah. Why?"

The loner hesitated. "I've got this friend, you see. Her name is Mabel-"

"Smithy mentioned her. The new queen?"

Clover squinted at her. "If by that you mean mom, then yes. Anyway, Mabel's house caught on fire a coupla days ago, and the littluns got in the middle of it. Mabel won't give 'em up to her owners- 'fraid they'll give 'em away- and I thought she might be a bit more welcoming to a cat."

"Even a wild cat?"

"Better a wild cat than hurting kits."

"I'd be happy to help. Really." Brightfur hesitated before going on. "I just can't imagine that there's no one you know that couldn't help. Why me?"

Clover wilted at the question. She looked away with a shrug. "If Smithy knew what was going on, he'd snatch those kits up in a second. More cats to shove prey in his maw, the better- and Mabel would let him, so she could still be with them. None of us want that. I saw how you looked at him; you wouldn't tell him anything."

Well, whattaya know? She thought. She's got a Ravenwind of her own. "We should probably cut through ThunderClan, then. We might get spotted by the Carrionplace."

"You have weird names, you know that?" Clover meowed, sounding relieved.

Dawn was just cresting the horizon as the duo came upon the outside fence of the Twolegplace. Clover leapt onto the wood structure with ease. Brightfur swallowed a wave of fear and followed, unnerved; she'd seen the houses before, from a distance, but she'd never been this close before. The stench of monster was almost nauseating, with an undercurrent of Twoleg and animal that was somehow even worse. It tasted muted. Caged.

"Ya'll right?" Clover asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Just... adjusting."

The loner led her to a small, hard walkway, which she explained was a Thunderpath for Twolegs and whatever animals they may have with them. Brightfur's pads stung as they moved on, but it wasn't much different from Highstones- better, even, since Highstones heralded the odd sharp rock between the toes.

Clover seemed to grow more animated as they went, calling out greeting to various cats, most of which watched from behind clear panels she called windows. Brightfur felt a bit like an apprentice again, not knowing any of the names or places, following dutifully behind someone who was practically a stranger. Still better than going back to Ravenwind, she decided as they ducked into a bush. A Twoleg passed by, whistling a tune as his dog pranced around. There was no doubt that it smelled them, but it showed no interest. It must've eaten before they left.

Finally, Clover turned towards a yard covered in bushes and trees and flowers. "This is the place," she explained. "It's Mabel's garden."

"Smells nice," Brightfur answered, trying to come up with something else to say. It felt rude to stand around with her mouth agape.

There was a rustling before a long-furred molly hopped out to greet them, her fur a gorgeous yellow-gold. "Thank kibbles'n bits you came!" the stranger cried as she bumped foreheads with Clover. "Is this the cat you told me about?"

"Eeyup." She pulled back, wagging her tail between them. "Brightfur, this is Parsnip. Parsnip, this is Brightfur."

"I'm Mabel's housemate," Parsnip added, turning her attention to her fully. "You think you can help?"

"I can certainly try. How bad is the damage?"

"Mabel got a burnt ear- she wasn't home when the fire started, y'see, and got hurt getting the babies out. Dewey's coughing up a lung, though, and Huey's not looking so good..." She hesitated. "Louie didn't make it to the morning."

A pained look crossed Clover's face. "I'm so sorry, Parsnip."

"I'll help with the vigil," Brightfur offered immediately, surprised when the two mollies looked at her, baffled. "What? It's my duty. I'll help with the burial, too, since you don't seem to have any elders."

Parsnip boggled at her a long time, then shook herself, eyes fluttering closed. "You make weird friends, Clover."

"That I do," she said. "Just... do whatever you gotta do, Brightfur. I trust you."

Author's Note: I got into a Brightfur mood and typed this AND a commission out in one night lol.

I feel like the interactions between warriors and kittypets/loners aren't explored enough in the main series- I mean, they're from two different worlds, but they're still cats. They can live separate lives and still help each other! It's part of the reason why this sort of thing ends up in my 'fics, I think, along with passionate medicine cats.

-Mandaree1