Predatory Hearts/Windclan Arc

Prologue

“Aspenclaw, I give you a life for mentoring,” boomed Ferntail. Aspenclaw braced himself for the jolt, which turned out to be not a jolt, but a feeling of wisdom and care. And then a searing sensation. Was this how Ferntail felt when she received him as her first apprentice?

Ferntail stepped back and a small dark brown shape appeared. “Hi, daddy!” it chirped.

Daddy? “My kit?” he meowed quietly. My kits have just been born! “B-but how?”

“I was born sleeping. Apparently, they’re burying me now. But I arrived just in time to give you a life for… do I get to choose or is there a script?” he whispered to the throng of Starclan cats.

Aspenclaw purred with amusement. His kit so much cooler and smarter than the other Windclan kits.

“You decide,” the white mass chorused.

“I give you a life for having fun, because even though you’re a leader, you shouldn’t weigh yourself down with so much responsibility that you get sad!”

Aspenclaw had to crouch down to meet his kit’s tiny nose. This life came with the feeling of pure ecstasy.

“By the way, Mama named me Hawkkit, and my sister Swankit, because she has the same beautiful long fur as you.”

So wise! And a daughter… my daughter…

“Oh,” Hawkkit continued. “You’re cool. You can turn into an eagle!”

And he knows about Lovacs already; what a sweetheart.

Hawkkit stepped back and vanished into the crowd.

“Aspenclaw. You have received all of your nine lives. We hail you by your new name, Aspenstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of Windclan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity.”

“Wait!” he called out before the starry cats began to vanish. “Give a Lovac to my daughter.”

Ferntail stepped forwards. “We have a fox Lovac available.” “Give it to her. I want her to be the best cat the clans has ever seen. She will save us from the badger Darkfang!” he insisted.

Ferntail studied him. “So be it. But you must promise me this, Aspenstar: you must let her have her own destiny, and let her tread her own path. You will not intervene in her life choices, or steer her paws in the direction you want for her.”

“I accept.” Aspenstar replied hastily.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ferntail brushed past him and vanished.

Starclan faded and Aspenstar woke up alone, as his medicine cat Puddlestep was assisting his wife and his newborn kit.

“I will make you the finest cat the clans have ever seen, Swankit,” he spoke aloud to the empty clearing of the Moonpool. “I will make you into the perfect warrior!”

Chapter 1

Be perfect, now, right now. Because you are. Because you can be.

Swankit could still hear those words her mother had whispered to her on her first day outside the nursery. Now at five moons old, it was routine for those words to be drilled into her before stepping outside. Swankit tentatively studied the entrance of the nursery, preparing herself for a “perfect” entrance.

If she snagged her pelt or let it touch the nursery walls, her mother would scold her for “messing up” her “gorgeous long white fur”.

If she walked in an awkward “imperfect” way, her mother would delicately pull her aside and hiss at her “not to make a scene”.

If her games with the other kits got “too rough” her mother would promptly remove her.

If she complained to her father, his words were always the same:

“Swankit, you are the only child of a leader, so you must set an example for the rest of the Clan. If you are not perfect, which we are raising you to be, your clanmates and parents will shun you, hate you and exile you. You will be nothing, you will not get into Starclan, you will die alone. Your clanmates expect very high standards of behaviour, and they say that putting one toe out of line will make you disgusting in their eyes, nothing more than a piece of crowfood. You don’t want that, do you? So be perfect, now, right now. Because you are. Because you can be.”

All Swankit had to do all day was walk around the camp, avoid the “rough” other kits, “boisterous” apprentices and the “busy warriors who don’t want kits in their way”. All she could do was sit prettily near the elders and listen to their stories. The medicine cat was out of the option because “messing with herbs could stain her perfect fur!” her mother had complained to Leafbreeze the medicine cat.

If she did one thing ‘undesirable’, her father or mother would pounce on her like eagles. Aspenstar watched over every aspect of her life, hissing at intervals to “correct her posture” or “make eye-contact”. Nobody questioned him; after all, the leader’s word is law.

She was out of the nursery now, too concerned over her movements to notice her mother, Beetleshine, and another queen watching her intently.

“Such long, soft, silky fur, just like her father!” gushed Beetleshine to the other queen. Her glossy black fur sparkled in the newleaf sunlight. “And snowy white! The epitome of beauty.”

The other queen sneaked a sideways glance. “I’m not too sure about that pointed muzzle, Beetleshine.”

Beetleshine’s mask slipped. Her face hardened, losing its youthful expression. Her welcoming bright blue eyes turned sharp. “It’s because of Aspenstar’s prophecy: ‘A long muzzle will point in the direction of the stars, and bring the force that will defeat Darkfang.’ Swankit is the one with the pointed muzzle. She has a destiny! She is important!”

The other queen backed down. “S-sorry,” she whimpered. “I know better than to argue with a leader’s mate.” Beetleshine lifted her chin proudly. “It’s just that you don’t get cats with pointed muzzles that often in Windclan, or prophecies.”

Swankit self-consciously touched her odd muzzle with her paw, but firmly placed her paw back down. She was proud of her muzzle. She was the leader of a kit and a cat in a prophecy! She was special, and she had to be perfect!

“Mother,” Swankit asked meekly. “Can you escort me to the elder’s den?”

Beetleshine resumed her façade. “Swankit!” she gasped in delight. “Of course! You didn’t have to ask!”

I did, because if I didn’t you would scream at me for going out of your sight and going off without your permission like you did the first time! She stopped herself. Would ‘imperfect’ thoughts lead me to become more ‘imperfect’? She panicked.

Be perfect, now, right now. Because you are. Because you can be.

She slowly entered the elder’s den, being careful not to touch anything. She quietly settled down near her mother, who was eyeballing her every move. Windclan’s two elders, Hollypool and Snowstorm were dozing away.

“Do I wake them?” she whispered to her mother.

Beetleshine thought for a moment. “No, we can’t have that ruining your reputation if it goes wrong.” Swankit remembered her father’s words and froze briefly.

“Then… can we talk outside?”

Her mother purred, pleased at her. “Of course. You’re showing great initiative, Swankit. Your father would be proud.”

The two cats lay down on the fresh springy grass.

“Tell me about the prophecy,” Swankit piped up, playing with the grass. She felt a sharp jab as Beetleshine’s paw lightly prodded her belly.

“Don’t demand things of me, your senior!” she hissed, out of reach of other cats. “And don’t play with the grass! You’ll damage your fragile claws!”

Swankit recoiled back, hurt at her mother’s sudden outburst. She had never gotten used to them because they happened at such unexpected times.

Beetleshine leaned in closely, her hot honey breath clouding around Swankit’s tufted ears. “Be perfect, now, right now. Because you are. Because you can be.”

Quickly and lightly, Swankit straightened her posture and placed her forepaws between her haunches to “sit properly”.

“Mother, can you tell me about the prophecy?”

Beetleshine shifted her paws to get comfortable. “When your father, Aspenstar, received his nine lives, he received a prophecy: ‘A long muzzle will point in the direction of the stars, and bring the force that will defeat Darkfang.’ You have an unusually long muzzle, so you are the cat who will defeat Darkfang. Darkfang is the name the Clans have given to a badger who has been attacking their patrols. Nobody has managed to fully defeat it, but we have had it attacked by eagles in the past. One swoops down out of nowhere, and distracts Darkfang enough to let our patrols escape with minimal casualties. Other clans aren’t so lucky.”

“I have a destiny!” Swankit declared, feeling a flame of happiness that had been extinguished for months. If her parents were training her to be perfect, then it had to be for a good cause!

My suffering is worth it. I’m going to be the greatest warrior Starclan has ever seen, just like father said!

Chapter 2

“Swankit, you have reached six moons, and it is time for you to become an apprentice. From this day on, until you have received your warrior name, you will be called Swanpaw. I will be your mentor, for it is my duty to oversee your fulfilment of the prophecy.”

As her clanmates chanted her new name, Swanpaw felt anxiety drop into her belly like a cold, heavy stone. It hurt, it chilled her to the bone, it was everything she didn’t want. She would have to spend another few seasons with her father inspecting every minute thing she did and correcting it if so much as a hair got out of line. He’d be watching her day and night.

Aspenstar hurried Swanpaw out of camp. “I have something to show you,” he said smugly. “It will be the weapon you use to defeat Darkfang.” He led her to the lakeshore. The water was reflecting the milky light of the early morning. The couple took a sharp turn and kept walking until they left Windclan territory and onto the marshes. Not once did Aspenstar turn around to see if Swanpaw was acting ‘imperfect’.

It’s odd, he’s usually watching me like an eagle. Swanpaw could feel excitement crackling around her father. Why is he like this?

“Swanpaw, bite your tail.”

Swanpaw held back a demanding answer and swapped it for a “Father, can you explain this to me so I’m sure of what I’m doing?”

Aspenstar thrust his muzzle into Swanpaw’s face so they were eye-to-eye. “You were born with a special power, Swankit. It’s why you have your special muzzle. I have a similar power. Watch me, do the same, and follow me.”

He stretched his dark ginger tail around to his mouth and clamped his teeth hard on the tip. The sound of it cracked through the air, and for a moment there was silence.

Suddenly Swanpaw was almost blown away by the hurricane-like winds, but her paws stuck firmly to the marsh. A bolt of lightning struck down hard and fast on Aspenstar.

“Father!” Swanpaw screamed. Did it hit him? What is happening?

She stood motionless as the winds cleared. A sharp “caw!” pierced the air. Swanpaw could only see a lone eagle on the moor.

Is that Father? Hah, so he really is an eagle! So, I must do the same…

It was painful for her to stretch her tail all the way to her mouth, and after a feeble lunge at the tip, she could only graze the fur. The eagle watched patiently and gave an encouraging “caw!”.

A stronger bite did the trick, and Swanpaw felt a strong vicious feeling burst in her, black and expanding.

She was transforming.

Winds rushed from her paws, swirling up into a tornado. She could feel everything, even her father’s eagle-form wings flapping feebly against the fierce winds.

This is wonderful. I feel… truly powerful!

At last she could see the sky again. She was still on four paws. Swanpaw felt stronger, more agile, older, like she could run around the lakeshore and not get tired, or fight off a clan all on her own.

Slowly, she padded down to the lakeshore. If my father turned into an eagle, what happened to me, and will we ever turn back?

Swanpaw gazed into the water, waiting for the ripples to calm. She saw a ginger and white head, white chest and underbelly, and black paws. I recognise this, it’s a fox! I’ve turned into a fox! That’s why I have a pointed muzzle!

She heard another majestic “caw!” and the eagle flew off, into Windclan territory. Swanpaw loped after him, feeling free as a bird, as powerful as a badger, as fast as a rabbit, she could go on and on and on.

The moor scenery switched into the forest of Thunderclan. Swanpaw felt a jolt of fear, but remembered that she was a fox. They’d never recognise I’m Windclan anyway.

They crossed the outskirts of the territory in silence. Swanpaw stumbled as the felt the sharp drop into the Moonpool. The eagle promptly landed at the pool’s edge and pecked at the water. Is he drinking it? Do I do the same?

She tentatively lapped up the water, and painfully felt her bones shift back into a cat’s skeleton. It was like an invisible force was pushing inwards on her bones, shrinking them and dislocating them in a sick form of torture.

“Swanpaw.” Aspenstar had returned. “You hold a Lovac, the fox Lovac. You have the power to transform into a fox and transform back by drinking the Moonpool’s water. Starclan gave you this power to defeat Darkfang! I hold the eagle one. I use it to fight off Darkfang myself, but now, we can do it together.” He leant in closer. “Nobody knows about this, Swanpaw. Starclan trusts us to keep it a secret. We don’t want you becoming imperfect, do we?”

Swanpaw flinched at the mention of the word ‘imperfect’. I must be perfect, or I’ll never make father proud! I must fulfil my destiny. She remembered all the times she had the vision of perfection drilled into her. I can’t be anything else.

But I can be a fox.

Chapter 3

The next day was exceptionally windy.

The four apprentices stood in a line facing their mentors. The huge Aspenstar towered over the three ordinary warriors, scrutinising Swanpaw with frosty leaf-green eyes.

I must look ridiculous in this wind, Swanpaw thought to herself as the wind thrashed her long fur about as if she was in her own tornado.

“Today is your first hunting assessment,” boomed Aspenstar over the roaring wind, without taking his eyes off Swanpaw’s. “You will be all over the moor, every cat for themselves. Robinthroat, Orangebloom and Mazetail will check up on you every now and then. Good luck.” He waited until the cats had scattered before speaking privately to Swanpaw, who was now quite cold.

“Swanpaw, what can you smell?” he asked.

I’m not an apprentice! Swanpaw retorted. This is a hunting assessment!

“A few rabbits downwind,” she replied generically. “And for a hunting assessment, shouldn’t I be hunting on my own?”

Aspenstar’s eyes glazed over with a venomous chill. “How many times have I told you not to question a superior?” he spat. “We don’t want you to do anything wrong, do we?” he asked with a juxtaposing honey-sweet purr.

Swanpaw stiffened up. “Right.” She regained composure, but was still trembling. “I smell precisely three rabbits downstream. Can I start hunting them?” she asked in a wonky tone. That’s so awkwardly phrased! Ugh!

“Yes.”

Swanpaw felt the liberating command in the bottom of her heart. She started off at a trot with Aspenstar on her heels. The paranoia and fear of screwing up battled relentlessly with focus on the assessment. Swanpaw felt like a battle of two clans was raging inside her head.

Focus!

After a struggle, she deeply inhaled the comforting smell of rabbit. The pressure of her father’s eagle-eyed gaze forced her down into a hunter’s crouch. She spotted the white dot on the horizon, like a light at the end of the tunnel she will never reach.

She sighed. I’m thinking too deeply into this. Just plaster on a smile, right?

She broke out into a run, easily gaining on the rabbit. Aspenstar’s techniques really came in handy.

o0o0o

Day 30. 30 laps.

Swanpaw dragged her paws against the springy moor grass and past Aspenstar’s soaked fur that brushed the ground. The rain stained her vision, blurring the world she knew. It streamed off her long fur like she was a walking, panting island. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth like she was a disgusting dog as she tried to swallow mouthfuls of wet air, but her parched throat choked it back out.

“Lap 29 complete, 24 laps sprinting,” announced Aspenstar in a monotone voice. It was at times like these when he was not kind: he was nothing but a puppeteer engineering a super-cat like he was engineering a toy. He was not a father now, he was a mad scientist, a husk of the cat he used to be. Was he always like this, before she was born? These questions were the only thing keeping her from collapsing.

Day 60. 60 laps.

The sun baked the ground, scorching everything in a holy golden light. Swanpaw skidded around a bend and streamed past the lake, relishing the wind flowing through her like she was part of it herself. She turned to the lake in an effortless joy and didn’t wince as the light from the glittering lake, like a Silverpelt in water, hit her eyes.

“Lap 60 complete, 60 laps sprinting.” Aspenstar’s monotone had a hint of pride in it.

Pride! He’s proud of me!

“You can stop now, Swanpaw!” he called out. “Your endurance is phenomenal now, and you can easily outrun me in eagle form.” He stepped over to a glowing Swanpaw and touched their muzzles together. “You are becoming perfection, Swanpaw. I will raise you to be prefect. Say is with me, Swanpaw…”

“Be perfect, now, right now. Because you are. Because you can be.”

o0o0o

Aspenstar looked down at his Swanpaw’s first catch of the day.

“Satisfactory.”

Swanpaw sank, mentally and physically, at her father’s words. “I can still catch more, right?” She looked up hopefully at her father, but recoiled as he saw the cringe plastered all over his face.

“Forget the assessment,” he huffed. “I have to make your hunting skills perfect. He marched off in a random direction.

“What about the rabbit?” she called after him.

“Leave it,” he replied over his shoulder. “An imperfect kill like that isn’t worth bringing back to the clan in your name. Your reputation will be tarnished. Our reputation will be tarnished!”

Swanpaw watched the sky turn black at his words. The isolation of the world she had unwillingly conjured chilled her to the bone. White outlines, indistinguishable from one another, crowded around her, choking her, blinding her. Her heart pulsated, sounding like the thrum of many pawsteps charging into battle. She was trembling now, as masses of white shapes jeered incoherent words at her and scorned her with venomous hisses.

Her mother’s voice floated through the empty space. It was distorted at first, but then Swanpaw distinguished the words:

“Be perfect, now, right now. Because you are. Because you can be.”

Chapter 4

The night was surprisingly warm, and pretty, too. Swanpaw could vaguely smell the clusters of cats in the distance: a warm, homely, cloying smell which was strange and comforting at the same time. Excitement surged within her, and she almost sped up her pace, but the invisible leash between her and Aspenstar immobilised her. She was one of many Windclan cats travelling to that night’s gathering, and by the looks of things on the island in the distance, they were irritatingly late.

She looked out onto the lake: the sky was absent of clouds, so stars had rained down from the sky, leaving a scattering of sparkling splashes on the black lake. Truly the work of Starclan! And what a night to show it off to the world, too.

As her paws mindlessly pushed forward like slaves, Swanpaw focused on the roaring whispers of the ceaseless tide, as it pushed outwards onto the shore and retreated cunningly, sucking as much as it could back into the lake’s murky, infinite depths. There was so alluring about the way the tide reached out and dragged itself, repeatedly like the incessant rise and fall of the sun and moon. Was it reaching out to her? Swanpaw felt a stirring in her; a phenomenon like how a kit was naturally drawn to its mother’s belly, lifting her paws and carrying her into the deep to be swirled and churned about and dragged down into a watery oblivion, to freedom, to where her father’s eyes could never reach her…

“Swanpaw,” announced Aspenstar, who had halted at the base of a tree trunk. “We’re here.”

Halting suddenly as her mind was jolted out of its tender fantasy, Swanpaw studied the trunk with unfocused eyes: it was as wide as a fox, with rugged, gnarled bark. It loomed over the lake, and touched the shore of the island on the other side. She took a step towards it, a glimmer of freedom twinkling inside her like a lone star in an empty night sky.

“Swanpaw!” snarled Aspenstar. The very tone of his voice morphed Swanpaw’s bones into ice. “I can’t have you damaging your lovely soft paws on that bark! I will carry you across. Climb onto me!” he ordered sharply.

With a bowed head, Swanpaw turned to her clanmates and silently pleaded for help with large blue eyes, but their dead vacant eyes spoke no words. Swanpaw dutifully clambered onto her father’s back, hooked on to his thick brown fur, and stood there paralysed as Aspenstar cautiously tread his way across the trunk, trying not to topple his daughter off his back.

“You can get off now,” he meowed more gently than before.

Swanpaw gracefully stepped off and gratefully meowed a solemn ‘thank-you’.

Aspenstar bent down to meet his daughter’s long white muzzle. “You will stay at the base of the big tree where I will look down from you at all times during the actual Gathering. But before that happens, I will be right behind you as you talk to other apprentices. Got it? It’s for your own good.”

Swanpaw nodded mutely.

“Excellent. Have fun then,” he chirped, and pushed Swanpaw into the sea of strange cats.

A wave of anxiety drowned Swanpaw. Her heart flapped like it was a hummingbird’s wing. All this colour, all this fur… I think I’m choking! She tried to breathe but her throat didn’t work. A storm ripped open in her head, swirling and churning itself. Her eyes unfocused. Everything blurred.

I’m going to mess up I’m going to mess up I’m going to mess up!!!

“Snap out of it!” Aspenstar grunted. “I’ll find someone for you to talk to…. Here!” he frantically whipped his head around and dashed off, dragging a feisty white apprentice back with him. “Riverclan’s Splashpaw,” he curtly announced, and sat back, ready to observe the exchange.

“I was having a serious conversation!” Splashpaw shrieked to Aspenstar, jumping to her paws, pelt bristling. After no response from the stony-faced leader, she huffed and turned to Swanpaw.

The first thing Swanpaw noticed was the eyes: a soft indigo tinged with worry, like an inverse night sky: a dark blue moon in a white sky. They reminded her of the fantasy she had of the lake on the way to the island, but motherly and comforting. Swanpaw wanted to nestle under the new cats’ white belly, as soft as kit fluff. The mere sight of her erased Swanpaw’s anxiety in an instant.

“You poor thing,” Splashpaw cooed. “No need to be so scared! I’ll show you around. I take it this is your first gathering? It’s mine too. I’ve already been here for a while, so I have all the experience you need! I’ve talked to all the other clan leaders (except the Windclan leader, I haven’t seen him yet. Is he with you?) and most of the deputies.” She raised her muzzle boastfully. “Follow me, I’ll show you to my mate-to-be! Except he doesn’t know that,” she muttered bashfully. She flanked Swanpaw, who instantly melted inside at the touch of Splashpaw’s glossy fur softer than moss in new-leaf and duck feathers combined.

The more they walked, the less crowded the island seemed. Splashpaw marched on as confident as the most seasoned warrior, and Swanpaw mimicked her. She no longer cared about Aspenstar’s dictatorial gaze or the life she lived as her father’s puppet. With Splashpaw, she felt like she could do anything. She was no longer afraid.

“Ferretpaw!” Splashpaw sang. “Where are youuuu?”

A pale brown tom with darker stripes padded out. He blinked his yellow eyes and dipped his head courteously. “Hello there, Splashpaw, nice sky tonight. I see Starclan is happy. Who’s this?”

Swanpaw instantly cringed. Ferretpaw didn’t even look eight moons old, and he was talking like an elder!

Splashpaw let out a peal of laughter. “No need to be so formal, Ferretpaw! We’re just kids! Chill!”

Ferretpaw’s yellow eyes filled with hurt. “We do,” he replied, offended. “This is a gathering. We can’t make a fool of ourselves.”

From behind Swanpaw, Aspenstar gave an approving grunt. Swanpaw ignored it.

Splashpaw tilted her head from side to side, pondering it. “I guess you’re right… I’ll just have to teach you how to have fun when we’re mates!” She loped off, turning back to Swanpaw. “I’m waiting!”

“I-I’ll never be y-your mate!” Ferretpaw spluttered. “We’re exact opposites! From an objective point of view, we’re incompatible!” He let out a small ‘oof’ as Swanpaw barged past him.

Splashpaw then arrived at a grey she-cat with unusually wide eyes and a brown and white swirled tabby. “Duskpaw and Curlpaw from Thunderclan!” she announced proudly.

“What’s with her muzzle?” Curlpaw asked, disgusted.

Swanpaw suddenly felt sick, and gingerly touched her abnormal muzzle.

“What’s with your attitude, you got a stick up your arse?” Splashpaw retorted. “Why do you care? Is this cat a threat to your childish illusion of everything being normal inside your bubble of a stone hollow? Grow up. Embrace individuality, you watery sheep turd!”

Swanpaw stood breathless. Curlpaw’s face was distorted in a mix of fury, abhorrence and confusion.

“Sorry about that, I just snap when someone insults a friend and then I go all explicit and ramble-y, and I don’t; really know what I’m saying,” she rabbited on. “Sorry for the ramble, by the way.”

Swanpaw wasn’t listening. A friend! My first friend. “Thanks… friend.”

Splashpaw purred. “You know, we should really go. Keep up with me this time! Oh, and Duskpaw’s great, she knows everything about hunting and prey. It’s her sister that’s the problem. Oh! I see the Shadowclan medicine cat! You’d like him.”

Not as much as I like you, Swanpaw thought elatedly. Splashpaw’s voice gave her wings, whether she was calling someone a ‘watery sheep turd’ or rambling about nothing.

Splashpaw halted at an anxious cream tom. His head was swerving this way and that, his yellow eyes scanning the congregation of cats.

“H-have you seen my brother?” he asked. “He’s a tiny grey tom, it’s hard not to miss him.”

Bouncing up to him, Splashpaw stated, “Sandcreek, right? You’re the Shadowclan medicine cat!”

Sandcreek stepped back in alarm. “How do you know my name?” he quivered.

“I know everyone’s name,” Splashpaw breathed, her dark blue eyes widening creepily. Sandcreek yelped and leapt back.

Swanpaw, watching the unsettling exchange, stepped forwards. “Who’s your brother?” she piped up nervously.

Shouldering Swanpaw away, Sandcreek turned to her with eyes full of relief. “His name is Ashpaw. He’s quick, vicious, and ridiculously tiny. He looks more like a kit than a seasoned apprentice!”

“I’ll find him!” Swanpaw announced, feeling a new surge of confidence.

From behind her, Aspenstar whispered. “That’s my girl!”

“I’ll come too!” Splashpaw stood flank-to-flank with Swanpaw. Sandcreek let out a wail of fear. “Ashpaw?” Splashpaw trilled.

A grey blur skidded under Aspenstar, who let out a growl and jumped. It barrelled into Sandcreek. “Bro!” it yelled.

So, this is Ashpaw, Swanpaw thought.

“Let me show you a new battle move! Mintstar taught me this one exclusively for me!” Ashpaw bounded up to his paws.

Sandcreek winced. “This is a truce, Ashpaw. That’s not allowed here. Maybe tomorrow.”

Ashpaw huffed and flexed his claws in the soft ground. “Mintstar would skin you alive if she found out!”

“Who’s Mintstar?” Swanpaw whispered.

“Leader of Shadowclan. She has this weird fascist agenda with her apprentices: she trains them to be merciless killing machines or something. If you ask any Shadowclan cat about it here they’d ignore you. But… it’s a wonder what you can pick up from eavesdropping!” Splashpaw winked at her cheekily, and Swanpaw’s heart melted.

Ashpaw had already stormed off in a huff, and Sandcreek was apologising to them frantically.

“It’s ok, it’s ok… Ashpaw’s just grumpy today… not all Shadowclan cats are like this I swear! I mean, I’m nice…” he trailed off with nothing left to say, and dipped his head in shame.

For the first time, Splashpaw was awkward. She hustled Swanpaw away. “Uh… I guess that’s everyone.”

A soft paw nudged Swanpaw in the back. “The gathering should be starting now; it’s time you went to the stump of the tree.” He whisked Swanpaw away with his dark ginger, plume-like tail.”

“Hey!” squealed Splashpaw. “I was just about to suggest playing hide and seek! Come back here, you good-for-nothing warrior! I bet your name is Sunglare or something!”

“That’s Aspenstar to you, little missy,” snarled Aspenstar over his back. “And you should be licking my spit off the ground where I walk!”

Swanpaw’s heart sank at Aspenstar’s cruel words to her new friend. She looked at Splashpaw over her shoulder: their eyes met in a matched gaze of pain and sorrow.

As Swanpaw parked herself at the base of the tree, Aspenstar scampered up the trunk. The much larger deputies who looked at the new intruder quizzically, but said nothing. She sighed.

“Attention all cats here tonight: The Gathering is about to begin.”

Chapter 5

“How was the gathering, Swanpaw?” asked Aspenstar the following morning.

Swanpaw swallowed her mouthful of rabbit and looked up at him. “Amazing!” she beamed, her blue eyes twinkling. “I loved meeting the apprentices! They’re all so different, but they’re cats with hopes and dreams, just like us, even though they’re from other clans! Especially Splashpaw,” she sighed dreamily.

“That’s the thing…” Aspenstar began. “I can’t have you mingling with these external influences. How will your loyalty belong solely to your clan if I allow this to continue?”

Sitting up, Swanpaw recited, “You may have friendships with cats from other Clans, but your loyalty must remain to your Clan, as one day you may meet them in battle.”

“The clan leader’s word is law,” Aspenstar growled in response. “And I say that you are not allowed to interact with these cats anymore! Especially Splashpaw… I’m not comfortable with the way you interact with her. “We can’t have you contaminated by the thoughts and opinions of other clans, can we? I don’t want you falling in love with another cat, you have to be perfect, my little Swanpaw.”

“But she’s my friend!” Swanpaw protested. “My first friend!”

Aspenstar snorted. “She’s not your friend. How can a cat from another clan be your friend? You only see her once a moon, that’s ridiculous! Why not make friends with cats from your own clan instead of worrying about cats you’ll never see again if I get my way!”

Swanpaw bowed her head in silence.

“That’s what I expect from my daughter,” Aspenstar huffed. “Go on, scarper!” Bending down, he added, “I demand you to talk to Fennelpaw and Bouncepaw over there; we need a perfect apprentice to have a perfect cohort of friends!”

Sighing, Swanpaw got up and walked over to her fellow apprentices.

Fennelpaw, a grey tabby tom, was parading around the camp carrying a large thrush. His sister, the more animated Bouncepaw was tailing him in awe, the only cat raining questions upon him. Swanpaw looked at the other warriors: they were either watching him in disgust or just plain avoiding him.

Fennelpaw opened his eyes, scanned the camp, and threw down this thrush. “Why are they avoiding me?” he stormed to Bouncepaw, swiping at her muzzle. “You’re not attracting their attention!” he whined. “Do something!”

Bouncepaw quivered, holding a paw to her muzzle. Thin red lines stained it. “Maybe it’s because they know you didn’t catch that thrush and you stole it from the fresh-kill pile.”

“Retard!” he shrieked. “I’m the best hunter in this deadbeat clan! Why would I steal a thrush from a worthless inferior?”

Bouncepaw opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, deciding that another word would earn another swipe.

Swanpaw saw this as her chance to step in.

What did Aspenstar say to me about making friends? That’s right! Feed their egos.

“That’s a huge thrush you’ve got there, Fennelpaw,” she purred silkily, swaggering up to him. “I can’t believe an apprentice like you outperformed the warriors! Did you pluck it straight out of the air?”

Fennelpaw tipped his head to the sky and held his tail erect. “You shouldn’t be surprised: I was outperforming them since the day I was kitted. And yes, I did pluck it out of the air. I Leaped up higher than Thunderclan’s Sky Oak!” he boasted. “The warriors told me to stay back, but sod them! They don’t understand how great I am!”

The sheer absurdity of his claims made Swanpaw want to roll her eyes and spit out a smart remark, but she bit her tongue and kept up with her façade, and faked a swoon. “You’re so awesome, Fennelpaw, and handsome too.”

“I know, right?” he said smugly, admiring his web-like tabby stripes.

Hah! He’s so self-absorbed, he can’t even notice that I’m faking it!

“You know,” he added more quietly, “I’d like to put my tail between your legs, y’know what I mean? ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉)”

“Fennelpaw!” Bouncepaw gasped in outrage. “You can’t say that to a she-cat!”

“Watch me!” he spat. “Plus,” he whispered, shoving his muzzle into Bouncepaw’s ear. “She’s the leader’s baby girl. If I hook up with her, I’ll be leader of the clan faster than you can say ‘mouse’!”

The ginger she-cat quietened, yet confused at his logic. “Aspenstar will never let his precious daughter have a mate like you.”

“Watch me,” he sneered. Clearing his throat, he met eyes with Aspenstar for a jiffy, and turned back to Swanpaw. “Very sorry, Swanpaw. Want to share this thrush with me?”

Bouncepaw jumped up to her paws in outrage. “You two-faced, scheming, filthy rat!” she screeched. She clawed up some dirt and hauled it at her brother, who nimbly pranced out of the way.

And the dirt landed on Swanpaw’s clean…

…white…

…flawless…

…pelt.

From the other side of camp, Aspenstar’s eyes sharpened, drilling into Bouncepaw’s yellow ones. Swanpaw caught this gesture, and suddenly the air. Bouncepaw kept nattering to her about Fennelpaw’s rudeness, but Swanpaw drowned it out. All her senses were focused on Aspenstar creeping towards them, his eyes furiously fixated on Bouncepaw.

With every step he made, Swanpaw felt the ground tremble, rumbling louder with every passing step. His ragged, jagged breathing penetrated her ears, scratching and shredding them from the inside.

Aspenstar stopped, and the world fell still. He tidily tucked his tail around his paws, and began to speak.

“Bouncepaw,” he began calmly. “I need to talk to you about camp regarding your apprenticeship… It’s quite urgent. Follow me, now,” he chirped, and briskly trotted out of camp.

Swanpaw inwardly wailed in horror as Bouncepaw’s eyes lit up. She knew it all too well: Bouncepaw, for ‘ruining’ Swanpaw, was going to be led out the territory and deleted, just like any threat was.

Don’t follow him! She pleaded silently. Bouncepaw, I want to save you but… It’s for my own good! I must stay loyal to my father!

She watched hopelessly as Bouncepaw and Aspenstar vanished.

Oh, Bouncepaw and Starclan, please forgive me!

Chapter 6

“Your warrior assessment,” Aspenstar declared one Greenleaf morning.

Already? Swanpaw gasped to herself. The moons have gone by so quick! Ever since Bouncepaw had been apparently carried off by an eagle while talking with Aspenstar, the clan had gone into a state of fear. As a result, Swanpaw was not allowed to go out of camp without her father and another warrior, and Gatherings were out of the question. Although I’m sure it’s to do with Splashpaw, she sighed. She hadn’t seen the Riverclan apprentice since the night they met.

“You have three trials,” Aspenstar continued. “I decided all of them, and I know they are able to be completed by a cat with your exceptional ability. Firstly, you must swim to the centre of the lake and back. Then, after a short break, catch a bird in mid-air (in your cat form of course!) and then, transform and find Darkfang, the feared badger of the lake territories, and live. You don’t have to kill it, just inflict enough damage to make me satisfied. We have been training your Lovac form for moons now! I’ll be watching you from the treetops, and I’ll subtly signal when you should depart.” He steered Swanpaw towards the lake. “Dive in!”

Swanpaw stared at the pale lake before her. It glittered invitingly. Tentatively, the put a paw towards it.

“Go,” growled Aspenstar stonily. “I don’t have all day. If any dawn patrols see you, you’d end up carried off by an eagle just like Bouncepaw.”

Swanpaw didn’t bother to question her father any longer. She closed her eyes, and bracing herself she plunged into the bone-chilling water.

Yikes! This is reeeally cold!

Spluttering, she thrashed with her paws, pathetically propelling herself forward. She had swum before in training with her father, but she could never make heads of tails of it.

Rhythm! You need rhythm!

After a struggle to calm herself, she pushed her limbs up and down in a steady rhythm, and soon she was gliding through the water like a boulder with fins. She grimaced as she lugged her long fur, clogged with water through the water, feeling like the branches of trees were tangled up in her fur. Yet relentlessly, she kept pushing on in desperation.

“Swanpaw!” Aspenstar’s voice echoed. “You can come back now!”

Swanpaw didn’t hesitate. Frantically she pushed her body around and scrabbled with her paws, splashing water into her face. She started her frantic paddling again, and didn’t stop until she heaved herself onto the shore.

“I don’t think anyone saw us,” Aspenstar muttered, leaping away as Swanpaw shook herself dry.

“And now I must catch a bird in mid-air,” Swanpaw stated. She bent her head backwards to look at the sky. “There are no birds above us.”

“Exactly.” Excitement flashed in Aspnstar’s eyes. “We’ll have to wait.”

Swanpaw fell into a sitting position and huffed. Waiting is so boring. “What happens if we see one?”

“Ah.” Aspenstar started pacing in a circle. “We’re waiting for a hawk or some other bird of prey. Make yourself look small and vulnerable. I’ll be running off and watching from a difference.” He gesticulated theatrically as he spoke. “As it circles lower and lower, leap up, and catch the bastard straight out of the sky!”

“…Okay…”

Aspenstar dashed off. “Be snappy!” he called over his shoulder. “I’m not waiting all day!”

Swanpaw grumbled and bunched herself into a crouch low to the ground. The crisp Greenleaf wind swirled around her in a merry dance, whistling a distorted melody. Swanpaw shivered at its eeriness.

The wind stopped. The moor became silent.

Then from above, an echoing screech.

Swanpaw froze. She desperately wanted to crane her neck up to the sky, but she didn’t dare.

Harsh winds cut her pelt as the bird’s wings rushed by. Fear boiled up in her as it circled lower and lower.

Swanpaw painfully edged her eyes upwards. A black mass blocked out the sun and vanished, leaving behind a whirlwind that almost knocked her off her paws.

Now!

Swanpaw pushed herself into the air with all her poser, stretching out her unsheathed claws. They plunged into the bird’s flesh and Swanpaw hurriedly dragged them down creating deep red ruts staining the tawny feathers.

Its wings flapped frantically, and Swanpaw’s claws scrabbled to bring it down. They both fell in a writhing heap on the moor. After a hard chomp on its neck, the bird spazzed and fell still.

Aspenstar ran up to her. “Impressive.”

Swanpaw’s heart soared in happiness. “Th-thank you,” she purred breathlessly. Does this mean he’ll be nice to me for a while?

“Take it back to the fresh-kill pile and meet me here as soon as possible,” he ordered. “We don’t have any time to waste! It’s a miracle that bird came so quickly.”

Swanpaw hastily picked up the paw, raised her paw in a salute, and dragged it into camp.

The first cat to greet her was Fennelpaw. He eyed the catch. “Pretty impressive. Warrior assessment? I just had mine, and I caught five rabbits on my own in the night!”

Can you ever not talk about yourself? Swanpaw grumbled. “You bet,” she chirped. “Aspenstar trained me well.” She dropped her catch on the pile. “I have to get back to him now: he’s expecting me.” She dashed out of camp, eager to escape the insufferable Fennelpaw.

“Good. You’re here,” said Aspenstar. “Now, I need you to transform and stick to the lake when looking for Darkfang.”

“What if I don’t find Darkfang?” Swanpaw asked, tilting her head to the side.

Aspenstar’s green eyes shimmered like the lake before them. “A little Starclan bird tells me it hangs around in Shadowclan territory these days.”

Swanpaw shook out her fur. “I can do this,” she said quietly to herself.

Bringing her thick-furred tail to her small mouth, she gave one final look at Aspenstar who nodded encouragingly.

She bit down hard.

o0o0o

Things were moving in the forest.

Minstar opened her jaws and hungrily swallowed the air. A string of saliva stretched out of her mouth towards the ground, but that was unimportant.

Something was here. Something… dangerous.

Keeping her jaws wide open, Mintstar crept to the edge of Shadowclan territory.

It’s still there. It’s coming closer.

She ran her jagged yellow teeth through her knotted, burred tail, feeling the many scars that ran through it. It was hard not to find a clean place to bite.

After the transformation was complete and the energy released had died down, she let out a roar that shook the pine trees. She was Darkfang now. Predator of the lake territories.

She took another sniff. A fox.

She lumbered forwards, her nose trained on the scent. And there she spotted it: the fox, frozen as it stared into Mintstar’s beady black eyes.

Minstar lunged forwards, heavily swiping with a wide paw. The fox screeched and dashed away.

Coward!

The world wobbled as something plummeted into Mintstar. She growled and battered at it, but it had vanished out of sight.

That damn vermin!

Whirling around, she saw three red streaks on her flank and roared in frustration. She aimed another heavy blow, but something amber flashed and vanished again. Scarlet droplets of blood seeped onto the ground.

This is abnormal… Foxes don’t fight badgers! It must be… no, it can’t be!

She froze, stunned at the possibility. Sharp gusts of wind struck her pelt as searing pains appeared again, again and again.

From up above, an eagle squawked. Not another one! Mintstar groaned. Father never told me about others!

The fox dashed into the shadow of the pine trees, and Mintstar shook her head, and retreated to the Moonpool. My father will hear about this… this is outrageous.

Chapter 7

“How did it go?” asked Fennelpaw as Swanpaw entered camp after Aspenstar. He twined his grey tail with Swanpaw’s.

Swanpaw cringed. “It was great,” she meowed. “Yours was probably better though.”

“Nah,” he purred. “Rumour has it you had to go up against Darkfang. I mean, I could totally do it and win in a flash, but I don’t even know where it chills nowadays.”

Gingerly pulling her tail away, Swanpaw yawned. “I suppose you’ve done your assessment too, right? I guess that’ll mean we’ll be made warriors together.”

“Isn’t it great?” Fennelpaw’s eyes lit up. “Me being made a warrior along with the leader’s kit! At least you won’t be lonely on your vigil,” he added.

Don’t be so fake, you’re only doing this for your social status, Swanpaw growled. “Yeah,” she chirped. “You’re a great cat too, Fennelpaw, it’d be an honour sitting vigil next to you.” The sucker, too self-absorbed to realise I’m playing him.

A malicious grin flashed across Fennelpaw’s face.

“Two young cats alone in the night… what could be more romantic?” a voice butted in. Swanpaw looked up: it was her mother, Beetleshine. The black she-cat pulled her daughter aside. “Fennelpaw is perfect for you! I already recommended him to your father.”

Recommended? Wha…?

“He’d make a perfect mate! Confident, handsome, well-respected, competent, and he cares about you!” Beetleshine squealed.

Cares about me? Uh, no…

“Of course, it’s Aspenstar’s choice in the end, and you have no say in it, but you know it’s all the best,” rambled Beetleshine.

His choice and not mine? That’s just cruel! Swanpaw gasped, but bit her tongue.

The ceremony wasn’t until that evening.

“Swanpaw, you have received exceptional training and became one of the most exceptional cats this clan has ever seen! Of course, it’s mainly due to genetics,” Aspenstar boasted.

A few cats below tittered but Aspenstar absorbed them.

“Swanpaw, asking you whether you’ll uphold the warrior code is a stupid question because I know you will otherwise you’ll be carried off by an eagle just like that dunderhead Bouncepaw.”

A few nervous chuckles sounded from below. Swanpaw gritted her teeth in anger.

“I now name you Swanflower: a beautiful name for a beautiful specimen.”

“SWANFLOWER! SWANFLOWER! SWANFLOWER! SWANFLOWER! SWANFLOWER!” roared the clan. Aspenstar grunted smugly.

He turned to Fennelpaw. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code, even at the cost of your life?”

“I will, Aspenstar,” nodded Fennelpaw sincerely. “I’ll do anything to be with your daughter.”

Fake! Screeched Swanflower.

The cats below chorused “Aww!”

Swanflower looked away, sickened.

“I now name you Fennelshade,” Aspenstar announced, his eyes twinkling. “I honour your devotion and skill.”

“Fennelshade! Fennelshade! Fennelshade!” cried the cats in unison, significantly quieter than when they chanted Swanflower’s name.

Swanflower and Fennelshade hopped down to the fresh-kill pile. “Ready to sit our vigil?”

Before Swanflower could say anything, Beetleshine burst between them. “This means you can finally have Fennelshade’s kits!” she cried, her blue eyes bright.

“But what if I don’t want kits?” Swanflower asked.

Beetleshine snorted. “Nonsense, all she-cats want kits! You want to be perfect for your father, don’t you?”

Swanflower nodded in shame.

“And if she doesn’t want kits, then I’ll make sure that she does. I’m strong. There’s nothing she’ll be able to do about it,” Fennelshade growled.

Swanpaw stared at him. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped in horror. How COULD he suggest at something so vile as that? I’m sure that’s illegal!

Cats were already beginning to disappear into the various dens under the darkening sky, leaving Swanflower and Fennelshade alone. Swanflower’s face was still frozen in horror at what Fennelshade had said.

“Scared, Swanflower?” he taunted softly, his eyes glinting maliciously.

“J-Just shut up and let us complete our vigil,” Swanflower spluttered, settling down and curling her tail around her nose.

Fennelshade grunted and padded over. “Just so you know, there’s nothing you could do about it if it happened,” he growled.

“I’ll tell Aspenstar!” Swanflower hissed. “He’ll believe me, I’m his ‘perfect daughter’ after all!”

The grey tabby tom clawed the ground. “He can do nothing about it! He’ll think you’re lying to get attention!” he spat. “He’s always wanted kits, he’ll praise me for it, not condemn me!”

“He’s a good enough cat to be above such a vile act!”

“Shut up, there’s nothing you can do,” Fennelshade growled. “You’re easy enough to pin down. I’ll just be following in my father’s footsteps!” He unsheathed his claws and brandished a paw; his claws glinted threateningly in the moonlight.

Swanflower scampered away from him. “Your father was an idiot who threw away his nine lives in a season and passed on that idiocy to you!”

Fennelshade’s green eyes narrowed. “Don’t speak ill of my father, Swanflower.”

“He deserves it,” she sneered pompously.

A black shadow slunk into camp. “Did I hear you talking ill of a leader, Swanflower? Shame!” Aspenstar snarled. “I expected better of you! Fennelshade should plough some sense into you… if you don’t want him to be your mate… then I’ll force him.” With a final narrowed glare, he slipped back into the hollow of his den.

“You heard what he said, Swanflower,” grinned Fennelshade. “One wrong move and you’ll be knocked up.” He gave another malicious grin. “You know… I’m the reason your father is leader! Without me, you’d be nothing!”

Hurtling to the other side of camp, Swanflower curled up again and trained a watchful eye on Fennelshade, who had settled down a few tail-lengths away from her.

Swanflower’s insides had turned to ice, and soon she was shivering from the cold it brought her.

He threatened to… oh great Starclan… nobody would believe me if he did… I’d be in ruins! The ice inside her turned to boulders. Everyone’s been pressuring me to have his kits… if it happened everyone would be happy except me and I’d have to put on a brave, happy face… Aspenstar would never believe me, Beetleshine would never believe me… I’m alone! Oh Splashpaw, she whimpered, remembering the vivacious she-cat from her first Gathering. I wonder if she has her warrior name now… I bet nobody’s pressuring her to have kits with the embodiment of fox dung, she grumbled.

She imagined Splashpaw’s soft, snowy-white fur, her bright, sparkling eyes, the constant beaming smile, the way she talked to Swanflower that night as if they had been friends for endless seasons. Filled with a warm aching sense of happiness and longing, Swanflower fell asleep.