Prison/Chapter Three

{|style="width:100%; border:3px #0276FD; background:-webkit-radial-gradient(right, #63C1FF,#82CDFF,#96D5FF,#A6DBFF,#BAE3FF,#D1EDFF,#D1EDFF,#E8F6FF,#FFFFFF);border-radius:27px; align:center; -moz-border-radius:6px; -webkit-border-radius:6px; -moz-box-shadow: 2px 2px 8px white; -webkit-box-shadow: 2px 2px 8px white;" "My warriorship was going well. Despite my rocky apprenticeship, my fighting skills were well and I was a fantastic hunter. I wasn't the best of the best but I was acceptable. So long as my best was good enough for my Clan, I was happy. Brightflower, on the other paw, was miserable. Every day I saw her cleaning out moss from nests and helping the older she-cats lay out herbs to dry, and just by taking one look at her face I knew her mind was in the forest, running after prey and slicing at enemies. She had had the chance to prove to the Clan that she could be valuable other than providing kits to the Clan and I had chased those dreams away when I had sent her back to her den during the fight.  IceClan came back for a rematch of the battle a moon or two later. Brightflower didn't attempt to help and instead stowed herself away in a den with a litter of kits for the duration of the fight. She wouldn't meet my eye for days afterwards.  I knew she was angry at me. Even after she had been a queen and I a warrior for nearly five moons, I still could feel her fury-heat coming off of her pelt when I got close to her. I could still catch dark flashes in her eyes, her claws scraping at the ground. She wanted to be a warrior, and I was scared of how far she would go to try to achieve that goal.  I remember the day I discovered exactly that. I was hunting with a patrol, we were working together to try to bring down a fat rabbit that was slippery and continuously averting our attacks. I was in the back, my job to scare the rabbit if it tried to break from the circle of warriors that was steadily closing in. We were close to the clearing where Brightflower and I had done fighting moves as apprentices, and I caught a wiff of a scent. Not enough of it to even determine which cat it belonged to, but I had a hunch, and if I was right, there was going to be trouble.  I broke away from the hunt, stammering some excuse that I don't even remember anymore; all I remember was my fellow warrior's glares as I abandoned them and raced off into the woods.  Unfortunately, my prediction was correct; there was Brightflower, in our old clearing, slashing her claws through the air. She looked fierce, angry, and I wondered if it was my face she was imagining tearing to shreds.  "What are you doing?" I had shrieked at her, surprising her enough that she stumbled, losing her balance, nearly rolling to the ground. She looked up at me with those storm-dark eyes laced with anger and I suddenly wondered if she would be able to beat me in a fight if it came to that. I had mentally cuffed myself and said, obviously, you would never fight her.  "Training myself," she had snarled, the words like a cracking whip. "I can't stand being a maid to the Clan anymore. I'm going to train myself as best as I can, and in the next battle we fight, I will fight. If I'm exiled or thrown in prison, so be it. I'd rather rot, burried alive in the ground, than be a stupid servant for the rest of my life. And if Dewstar actually listens to me it could change the lives of DarkClan forever." She was so determined, so sure of herself. She truly did believe it when she said she would rather die than serve her Clan the way she-cats were supposed to. And she wasn't the klutzy, tiny kit she had been when we were in the nursery together - her hard working days had given her a covering of lean, flat muscle that held an unspoken power, she was long-legged, swift, and nimble, and she had never looked more beautiful to me than she did in that very moment. And I knew right then that I couldn't afford to lose her if she was exiled for her attempts to become a warrior and break the chain. <BR><BR> "It would be very appreciated if I had the help of a warrior," Brightflower whispered suddenly, making me look up into her eyes. She did need the help - she was a good fighter but didn't know any real moves, just ones she found out by herself by experimenting. I was risking my pelt if I decided to help her - if Dewstar decided to exile or arrest her, I would be as well for helping her. <BR><BR> "I'll help." I was surprised the words had even been said, that I had made up my mind subconsciously. But her eyes lit up, her tail curling over her back, and I knew immediately I had made the right choice.<BR><BR> For the next two moons I trained Brightflower in our clearing in secret. She learned the moves quickly, perfecting a new style every night. From nightfall to moonhigh she flipped, ducked, slashed, rolled, until she was exhausted but satisfied. I knew I could be condemning her to death, or worse, by helping her along with this, but it made her so happy I could hardly object. <BR><BR> It was one night that I watched the starlight bleach her ginger spatters to a silvery color, her eyes fierce with concentration as she practiced a leap-and-slash move I had taught her the night before, that I realized something horrible was happening. <BR><BR> I was falling in love with her. <BR><BR> Love was forbidden. It caused divided loyalties and made strong warriors soft. If anyone found out a tom had fallen in love, he was exiled in moments. It was even more of a serious rule than the she-cats' jobs in the Clan. <BR><BR> I never would have voiced this to Brightflower; she would have shied away from me. Though she-cats were allowed to fall in love, Brightflower had never given any signs that she cared for me that way. Everyone had assumed that we would have kits together, but each time she had laughed and shrugged it off. It never had used to bother me before, because whenever someone had mentioned us having kits some day it had made my ears burn, but now it made my heart sink each time.<BR><BR> I was mulling this over to myself one day when I was hunting. A squirrel, sitting in the low branch of a tree, was my target. I was just about to creep under the branch where it was perched and launch myself up to grab it when I heard the barks. <BR><BR> A fox, and close. My squirrel let out a chatter and darted up the tree, too high for me to follow. Cursing, I turned in the direction the barks had come from. I obviously needed to drive it out of the territory, but I was the only cat out of camp right now, there was no one around for it to hurt. I could keep hunting, at least for a little while. <BR><BR> That's when I heard the wails. Cats. She-cats to be precise. My blood ran cold and I was bolting, impossibly dodging trees and bushes just mouse-lengths away from me. <BR><BR> They were cornered in a bramble thicket - two queens and one queen apprentice, shaking and cowering under the beady stare of the fox. Its jaws were dripping with saliva and its lips were pulled back in a teeth-bared snarl. <BR><BR> Brightflower was standing in front of the other queen and the apprentice, her head low between her shoulders and her paws spaced evenly. I knew what she was going to do even before she did it. <BR><BR> "Brightflower!" the queen Flowersong screeched as Brightflower flung herself at the fox, tearing her claws across its eyes before ducking under its belly and wriggling out behind it. She hadn't seen me yet, and she had a concentrated look of battle in her gaze as the fox whirled to face her, barking. She slashed at its paws, and when it reared up onto its back paws, she clawed at its exposed belly. It wailed, dropping to all fours again, and Brightflower was ready, flinging herself onto its back and digging her claws into its shoulders. <BR><BR> I could tell the fox was getting ready to flip over and smash her beneath it; something needed to be done. Flowersong and Meadowpaw were frozen with fear, shock, and not knowing how to fight to help without causing more trouble. <BR><BR> I flung myself at the fox, sweeping its legs out from under it before it could roll. Yowling it surprise, it went down, crashing onto its belly. Brightflower's head snapped up in shock, her eyes locking with mine. She gave me a small smile before twisting her head and caterwauling as she sank her teeth into the fox's neck. <BR><BR> I landed a blow on its haunches, and the two of us attacking from both sides overwhelmed the beast; wailing, it shook Brightflower off of its back and darted, barking, off into the woods. <BR><BR> The four of us were silent for a few moments, Brightflower and I panting, Meadowpaw and Flowersong looking stunned. It was a long minute before Meadowpaw spoke up. <BR><BR> "What just happened?" the small tabby whispered unevenly, her amber eyes stretched wide. Flowersong was staring at Brightflower, looking...appalled. <BR><BR> "You know how to fight?" she had nearly growled. Brightflower didn't even look daunted; she met her fellow queen's gaze evenly and nodded. <BR><BR> Brightflower didn't beg Flowersong and Meadowpaw to stay silent about her fighting; she didn't seem to care. The four of us decided then that it was best we all say it was me who fought off the fox before it could hurt any of them; even tiny Meadowpaw had agreed, still trembling.<BR><BR> We returned home, where I was made out to be a hero for saving the she-cats, and was praised without break for the rest of the night. But I knew Brightflower was the real hero, and many times I glanced over at her when I was being thanked, as if redirecting the gratefulness to her. Her blue eyes were warm and kind from then out whenever she looked at me. <BR><BR> Everything then on went perfectly. Brightflower no longer avoided me; we went back to having the same close friendship we had as kits. I still trained her, and although Flowersong was constantly shooting Brightflower odd looks, she never spoke up. Meadowpaw seemed to have forgotten about the entire ecounter; or at least, she was trying to. <BR><BR> And then Brightflower came to me one day, eyes shining, and announced to me she was pregnant with my kits." <BR> ★ ★  ★

Leafshadow grew quiet as he finished speaking, a purr threatening to explode from his throat at the pleasing memory; Brightflower's scent weaving around him as she pressed her cheek against his, telling him she hoped they were as handsome and skilled as he was. <BR><BR> "Wow," Mossfeather whispered, her eyes wide. "Brightflower was really brave." <BR><BR> "She was," Leafshadow agreed, staring down at his mud-colored paws. <BR><BR> "And you two had kits together? And....you loved her? What were the kits like? Did they look like you, or her?" <BR><BR> Leafshadow smiled faintly at Mossfeather, used to her relentless and automatic questions by now. <BR><BR> "Ah, the kits. The next chapter in this story. The next thing in our intertwined lives that went wrong..."