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Oakflight was sitting his vigil. He and his brothers, Volewhisker and Birchclaw, had just been made warriors. It was greenleaf, so the night was quite warm, and Oakflight had been allowed a long nap in the afternoon, so he was ready to spend the whole night awake and silent.
 
Oakflight was sitting his vigil. He and his brothers, Volewhisker and Birchclaw, had just been made warriors. It was greenleaf, so the night was quite warm, and Oakflight had been allowed a long nap in the afternoon, so he was ready to spend the whole night awake and silent.
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The only problem with staying up all night was there was too much time to think. He knew his mind would wander to the mystery that he constantly thought of: Who was his father? 
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Oakflight's mother, Sunpetal, had raised he and his littermates without telling them who their father was. They had constantly pondered about it together, but there was to way to be sure, and Sunpetal was reluctant to tell them. He and his brothers had two guesses about their father, and who he was. Each of them were equally as likely.
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Their first guess was that their father had died, and that Sunpetal was too Griefstriken about it to tell them, either that or he was from a different clan. Oakflight shuddered at the thought that he and his borthers were half clan, it seemed so unlikely to him. He didn't feel any connection to any of the other clans. He was ThunderClan through and through.
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The second guess was that their father was Redfeather, a tom who'd always been very nice and caring towards he, his littermates and their mother. But if that was so, why would it be kept secret? Redfeather had no mate, or admirerers, at least as far as Oakflight and his brothers knew, so there was nothing that conflicted with the knowladge that he might be their father.
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Oakflight turned these thoughts over in his head until dawn. Once he had been relieved of his vigil, he sighed and shook out his pelt. He was tired, and all he wanted to do was curl up in his new nest in the warriors den and sleep for a moon.
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As he padded towards the den, he caught sight of Sunpetal padding out on patrol. He waved his tail in greeting, then curled up next to his brothers in the den. Soon sleep washed over him.
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...
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Oakflight was awoken by yowls of grief. He groggily rose to his paws and shook the clumps of moss from his pelt. It was sunhigh. He padded out into the camp to see what the commotion was.
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"I'll rip that fox to sheads!" Birchclaw's voice rose out of the jumble of voices.
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Oakflight stared at a lump of golden fur at the center of the camp. It was his mother. Sunpetal was dead. And by the sounds of it, she'd been killed by a fox.
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Greif threatened to overwhelm him. How could Sunpetal be dead? Now all hope of finding out who his father is was gone. "No..." He whispers.
   
 
more coming soon
 
more coming soon

Revision as of 01:31, December 24, 2012

This is a story for Red's contest! Hope you enjoy :) -Cinderstar



Oakflight was sitting his vigil. He and his brothers, Volewhisker and Birchclaw, had just been made warriors. It was greenleaf, so the night was quite warm, and Oakflight had been allowed a long nap in the afternoon, so he was ready to spend the whole night awake and silent.

The only problem with staying up all night was there was too much time to think. He knew his mind would wander to the mystery that he constantly thought of: Who was his father? 

Oakflight's mother, Sunpetal, had raised he and his littermates without telling them who their father was. They had constantly pondered about it together, but there was to way to be sure, and Sunpetal was reluctant to tell them. He and his brothers had two guesses about their father, and who he was. Each of them were equally as likely.

Their first guess was that their father had died, and that Sunpetal was too Griefstriken about it to tell them, either that or he was from a different clan. Oakflight shuddered at the thought that he and his borthers were half clan, it seemed so unlikely to him. He didn't feel any connection to any of the other clans. He was ThunderClan through and through.

The second guess was that their father was Redfeather, a tom who'd always been very nice and caring towards he, his littermates and their mother. But if that was so, why would it be kept secret? Redfeather had no mate, or admirerers, at least as far as Oakflight and his brothers knew, so there was nothing that conflicted with the knowladge that he might be their father.

Oakflight turned these thoughts over in his head until dawn. Once he had been relieved of his vigil, he sighed and shook out his pelt. He was tired, and all he wanted to do was curl up in his new nest in the warriors den and sleep for a moon.

As he padded towards the den, he caught sight of Sunpetal padding out on patrol. He waved his tail in greeting, then curled up next to his brothers in the den. Soon sleep washed over him.

...

Oakflight was awoken by yowls of grief. He groggily rose to his paws and shook the clumps of moss from his pelt. It was sunhigh. He padded out into the camp to see what the commotion was.

"I'll rip that fox to sheads!" Birchclaw's voice rose out of the jumble of voices.

Oakflight stared at a lump of golden fur at the center of the camp. It was his mother. Sunpetal was dead. And by the sounds of it, she'd been killed by a fox.

Greif threatened to overwhelm him. How could Sunpetal be dead? Now all hope of finding out who his father is was gone. "No..." He whispers.

more coming soon

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