heads up the myth prompts probably won't be very myth-y because i can't think of any good mythlike stories lmao
OF TIME AND TALES
a collection of oneshots by dog for firey's challenge thingey
i. the fallen rose
Roses were delicate, gentle, and beautiful.
If so, then what was she?
She was a rose—Rosefoot—yet she was anything but. She was vibrant, electric, glaring like sun on ice.
Delicacy? She had fallen out of trees, jammed claws, and twisted paws too many times to count. He knew himself, for he was the one in the medicine den patching her up.
Gentleness? He once joked that she had the recklessness of a badger, and she returned with a tackle so hard that he went flying. Of course, she apologized afterwards, but only with a smirk of satisfaction wrapped across her face.
Beauty? She lacked that, for she was about as eye-catching as any other she-cat. Blue eyes, ginger fur. At first glance, she was nothing. Until you got to know her. Got to know the charm, the optimism, the blistering passion she carried within her. And that was the beauty that he fell for.
And so, that was Rosefoot.
It took him a while to realize he loved her. He didn't really get it until death came cruelly down on her parents. She had walked into the medicine den, this time not with a sprained ankle or a broken limb but with an aching heart. She was shaking, and as soon as she stepped through the mouth of the den she came running towards him. With a small oof, he caught her and held her tightly as she trembled. They're dead, Rosefoot sobbed, pressing her tear-streaked face into his fur. The battle at the border—they're dead—
She could tell only him, for he was the only one who knew her parents were in ShadowClan. ThunderClan did not know and could not mourn their enemies.
He was quiet as she cried. Only rubbed her back with his tail and pulled her closer, resting his head on hers. The constant drum of the rain outside muffled her weeping, only serving to further isolate them from the rest of the camp. Just the two of them.
Rosefoot was up all night crying, and he never left her side. Through the haze of sorrow, she fell asleep in the den. It was in the morning, when he awoke to see her still passed out and sniffling in her sleep, that he realized how much it hurt him to see her in pain. How much he wished he could find a way to stitch her back together—and he would do it without a moment of hesitation, even if it meant trading himself away in the process.
That was when he realized he loved her.
He couldn't say anything about it. She was a warrior and he was a medicine cat. But that didn't matter; what he needed to do now was care for her. Help her get through the pain of losing her parents. This he swore would be his duty for as long as it took.
It took three moons, to be exact, three whole moons before she had fully recovered. Along that time, he had been her shoulder to cry on, something steady for her to rely on in her turbulent world. Afterwards, she hung out in the medicine den even when not injured, and he found his paws finding their way towards her at meal times.
In turn, when he fell apart, she was there for him.
He'd been trying to deliver some kits- trying desperately to save the mother even though there was so much blood. It seemed to be the only thing his eyes landed on—the mother and the blood and the screams of pain and the blood the blood the blood it was red and wet and oh the blood. His heart was racing and his thoughts were scrambled as he rushed to find something, anything, that would stop the bleeding.
Finally, the agonious screeching ceased. But neither the mother nor her kits made it. He stood shell-shocked, staring in horror at the number of bodies. One, two, three, four five. One, two, three, four, five. Five—five—great StarClan, five—
Rosefoot consoled him the days that followed. Between soothing him in her loving voice about how he had done his best as a medicine cat and yelling at him about how she refused to let him feel bad or she swore by StarClan that she'd beat him up, she coaxed out of him both comfort and laughs in the bitterest of moods. This was Rosefoot for sure. This was Rosefoot, the love of his life.
A season cycle later, there was another battle with ShadowClan. Lightpaw came running into the camp, tripping over his paws as he skidded into the medicine den. Come quick! There was a fight—Dewstar's lost a life, might be losing another—
He came sprinting at top speed, herbs clamped soundly in his jaws. Dewstar was on her last life, and he knew it. There was no time to waste.
Except, when he came to the bloody field, Dewstar flew out of his mind. Rosefoot lay, bleeding from a gash on her neck. Stars, no. No no no no no.
He stopped at her side and dropped his herbs. Seeing this, Lightpaw ran at him. Wait, what about Dewstar, she's our leader—
He let out a roar of rage, enough to scare the idiotic young apprentice away. Turning his attention back to Rosefoot, he saw her eyes flutter open. Oh, Rosefoot, you're gonna be okay, I've got the herbs—
Blueclaw, shut up and hold on a second. Her piercing blue eyes met his, and he froze. Even bleeding out on the ground, Rosefoot was as rough as ever. I'm gonna die. I know it. Don't waste your herbs on me.
But—
She interrupted him again. Stop wasting time. Listen to me. Blueclaw, I love you.
He sucked in a sharp breath. Stars, I love you too. I always have.
See you in StarClan, Blue.
Wait for me there.
Her only response was a smile, and then she was gone. A rose wilting and dropping to the ground, never to bloom again.
Blueclaw turned his face towards the darkening sky where stars were beginning to shine. Then he buried his face in her fur, just as she had all those moons ago, and let his love bleed onto the fallen rose.
ii. iridescent
Dusk was a searcher.
A searcher looked for the thing. What the thing really was, no one knew. But everyone grew up with stories of it from their elders who heard it from their elders who heard it from theirs and theirs and theirs. How the great skycats had brought it to Earth and the powers it gave a cat. The tales ranged from immortality to nine lives to infinite happiness to things as simple as guidance in your life. These stories were all wildly different, and without this one word, maybe every cat had been told about something different.
Iridescent.
No matter what you were told the thing did for you, it was always iridescent. The skycats had given that sole clue. Not a single searcher really knew what they were looking for, but they knew it was a benign, iridescent thing.
blah blah dog is tired of writing the whole rest of the story is about how the iridescent thing is actually just a life lesson about finding happiness in her life and dusk finds that her iridescent thing is her granddaughter who makes her life a lot brighter yadda yadda maybe i'll finish this oneshot later hAH
iii. "i will have you without armor, or i will not have you at all"
nonexistent for now
iv. the pretty two-faced fox
Sparkclaw.
The name still sent shivers down her spine. Bringing up memories of golden days, of kisses, of warmth, of love. And memories of heartbreak, betrayal, of pain so iron-hot that reality melted under its touch.
Oh, young love. Naive, idiotic, fatal young love between the deputy of WindClan and the leader of ThunderClan.
Sparkclaw had been the first one to know her. The first one to understand the stresses of her life and the weight of her role as leader, thrust upon a cat so young she'd only just trained her first apprentice. Sparkclaw gave her the kisses she needed when she was hurt, the attention she needed when she was lost, and the shoulder to cry on when she was broken.
Sparkclaw was her world. Their meetings went from every moon to every few weeks to every few days to every day, every night, an unrelenting need to be with the pretty ginger she-cat consuming her.
The night before the battle, Sparkclaw had been so close to Larkstar. Tails twined, muzzles mere hairs away, and eyes so close that Larkstar thought she was drowning in those green pools. When Sparkclaw kissed her, it was everything she'd ever imagined- shooting stars across the sky, passion roaring like flames, love, love, love, love swelling up inside her. She was hungry for Sparkclaw- hungry to satisfy the need for love that had haunted her all her life.
These memories brought Larkstar so much pain now. Hard as she'd tried to bury them, they still resurfaced, wreathed in the still-burning fires of regret and pain.
When Larkstar marched with her deputy and best warriors into the WindClan camp, they'd been ambushed. No. Sparkclaw had told her that the Clan would be out on patrols and hunting- not waiting for them to come-
But she had no time to think. WindClan cats flooded them viciously and Larkstar watched, horrified, as her deputy dropped in a pool of his own blood, as her best friend screamed with pure terror, as her Clanmates fell like trees before her eyes.
In the chaos, Larkstar was tackled hard, and a wave of a deeply familiar scent washing over her. Pinned beneath cruel claws, Larkstar looked up at her attacker and saw the warm green eyes she'd gazed into lovingly for the past four moons.
Sparkclaw-?
A sick smile twisted Sparkclaw's face. Suddenly, her claws swept down and slashed open Larkstar's throat. She jerked violently, struggling in vain to free herself from Sparkclaw's grasp.
I- I thought you loved me, Larkstar choked out as the life drained from her eyes.
Maybe I did. But Sparkclaw's eyes were cold. Maybe I did. But your Clan killed my parents, and I woke up and remembered that you did it. I had my orders- I did what I was told.
I thought...you loved me.
I guess you thought wrong. And with a hard smack, Sparkclaw cracked her neck.
-
Larkstar lost five lives that night. Five lives before she managed to turn tail and flee, without a deputy, without two of her warriors, without five of her lives.
And without Sparkclaw.
The she-cat had called out, leaving her with one thing before Larkstar was out of earshot, tail between her legs. My name isn't even Sparkclaw.
It's Foxflight.
Larkstar had bit her tongue. She'd been so stupid. So ignorant. Falling for the pretty, two-faced fox.
A/N: okay i'll admit this story is decent but ehhhh it could be better, it's unbeliavably short and i don't really like how it turned out all too much, i only had forty minutes to write it just could be better i guess haha.
v. cold
coming soon to a walmart near you