Drewberry's Last Adventure
by Dayna K. H*****
Chapter One
The day was warm and balmy, the typical spring afternoon. The sun's rays were comfortable, but not stifling, and the breeze had just enough chill to be refreshing as it wafted through the woods and meadows, sending both tree leaves and grass blades dancing their tribute to the end of winter.
The woods were busy with the activity of small creatures. Mice scurried to fulfill their duties, squirrels chatted and leaped from bough to bough searching for nuts or something to gossip about; birds flitting back and forth, in the sky and through the treetops, singing in time to the foliage's downbeat.
There was one creature in particular, however, who wasn't in the mood to celebrate the good weather. In fact, he hardly noticed it as he slowly padded across the large, clear stretch of meadow land, which was dotted all over with stone graves, too caught up in his memories to care. He was a tabby cat, silver gray in color, with black stripes streaking his face, back and tail. His underside and legs were soft and white, and his tail seemed to be tipped with whitewash. The grass was so lush that his paws seemed to sink into them like a carpet as his eyes, blue and full of wisdom and experience, scanned over each engraving. His ear would sometimes twitch as he remembered a disturbing or troubling memory. Or, at other times, the corner of his mouth would lift in a smile, and he would laugh softly to himself when remembering a good memory, one that he had unintentionally forgotten until now.
This was Drewberry Pie, one of the two leaders of the AremClan. You've probably heard of his adventures, beginning from when he first joined AremClan, which had then been known as AremTribe, to his involvement in many battles and skirmishes, which led to his legacy as to being one of the most famed warriors of AremClan. Nowadays, however, he spent most of his time in his daughter's clan, SilverClan. Despite the fact he was second leader, AremClan had been experiencing peace for the last couple of years, and he was more than confident that Togo, his counterpart, would keep things under control while he was gone. The Jack Russel Terrier understood his old friend's desire to spend more time with his family, especially now that he was a grandparent to four grown warriors and an apprentice.
Although he tried not to show it, Drewberry was growing old, and age was beginning to reveal itself in his once youthful frame. His once strong, purposeful stride was now stiff and he would occasionally walk with a limp in his back leg, which was hardly noticeable unless you know it was there and looked for it. A condition of arthritis, unfortunately. It annoyed him to no end, but he refused to let it keep him down for long.
As he began to pass another tombstone, Drewberry halted and studied this one more in depth and thought. It was old and weathered, and the foliage surrounding it was thick and unattended, showing that this particular grave had been dug and erected a while ago.
Carved into the stone in neat, dusty lettering, was an old, familiar name, one that was very dear to him: Gingerflower
Drewberry just stood and stared at it for a long time, without a twitch of the ear or tail. One might have thought he was a statue, if it wasn't for the movement of his fur being buffeted by the breeze. There was no sound except for the wind's whistling condolences and the bird's jovial celebrations, oblivious to all except their own lively songs.
Finally, the old cat heaved a sigh and pictured Ginger in his mind. Strong, beautiful, alive and vibrant, with reddish-golden fur and stripes of the same, yet darker, color. Her eyes had been a sparkling gray, shining with mirth and humor. She had been happy, up to the point of her death. Sure, there had been some rough times, like when their daughter died, or when her back was broken, on their honeymoon of all times. But Drewberry was content with the fact that, all in all, he had been able to make her happy, from the time they first met, to the time they married, to the time she gave birth to their first two biological children, (all the rest had all been adopted). He only wished that he had been with her when she died.
Gingerflower Pie had perished during a gruesome, bloody battle when NednilClan had split up into DragonClan and SilverClan, along with their oldest, adopted son Silverstar. His grave was beside his mother's.
Drewberry felt tears moisten his eyes as he read the inscription on his wife's tombstone. It had been written in the old Nednil script, but Drewberry had learned it long ago, back when he had been striving to win Ginger's heart.
A leader for a time,
A friend forever;
Beloved and revered,
may her memory blossom in all minds.
Drewberry couldn't imagine any bigger flower of memory being in anybody's mind but his. He missed Ginger-oh, how much he missed her!-but, still, he chose to be thankful for having been able to watch his children grow up into the fine warriors they were, along with their own children. That was an especially priceless gift.
Rather reluctantly, the old warrior walked on to the next tombstone, the one to Ginger's right. This one was much older and overgrown. Scuffed, weathered and faded, Drewberry could barely read the script. Which didn't really matter, however, for he had read it many times before.
Goldenstar:
Young in age, strong in heart;
May her legacy and memory from us never depart.
Drewberry didn't even try holding back a bittersweet smile as memories of his spunky, oldest daughter flashed through his mind. Ginger had adopted Goldie before she had even met Drewberry, along with Silverstar, having then been an apprentice, but Goldie had readily agreed to their marriage. She'd even, although reluctantly, performed the duty of the flower girl. She had risen to the ranks of leader when just an apprentice, but had died only a few months after. Drewberry didn't like to think about that time. His daughter's fatal choice not only destroyed two of the most dangerous troublemakers threatening the clans at that time, but her own life as well.
Still, Drewberry found that he couldn't love Goldie any less, and his heart still ached at her memory.
Stepping back, he surveyed the two graves, along with those surrounding it. He was in the section of the graveyard which held dead leaders, so most of the names had 'Star' after them. Even though Ginger herself had been a 'Star' at one point, she had been known more by her warrior name. On her right stood Silverstar's grave and, next to his, Stellastar's, another daughter Drewberry and Ginger had adopted, and then had to fight for in order to keep custody. Only her grave was different from the others', for it contained no corpse. Stellastar had been lost in a storm at sea a long time ago.
Drewberry sighed again, his mind clouded with thoughts, memories, and images. He knew that he should probably get back to the camp, but he lingered a while longer to say his farewells. "Goodbye, all," he said, looking at each tombstone in turn. "I miss every single of of you so much. Hopefully I'll be seeing you all again soon, though."
With that, he turned around and walked back down the hill towards his daughter's camp. Deep down, however, he felt torn. He wanted to remain with his son and daughter and their children, encouraging and helping this next generation, but another part of him was tired. Very tired.
I've lived a good, full life, he thought. With enough adventure and excitement to fill up two lives and an equal share of happiness and sorrow mixed in every single season. But I think I'm ready to go. They don't really need me anymore. I'm more of an elder now than a leader, and should have retired a long time ago. With another sigh, the cat strode past the SilverClan sentry, who, of course, let him pass, and entered the camp.
The camp wasn't all that extravagant, several caves, all with their own purposes, surrounded by thick foliage for cover. It was at the bottom of the hill, so, naturally, Drewberry felt the pains of climbing down it, especially since it was so big, but he wasn't about to let himself get soft just because he found it difficult to approach SilverClan's camp.
As usual, the place was buzzing. SilverClan was a rather large clan, but there was always something for everyone to do. Some stood in one corner, sharing prey and news, while others bustled about, taking care of this and that. SilverClan was still patching up after Drewberry's granddaughter, Tornado, completely wrecked the place a while ago. Long story.
As Drewberry passed them, the clan members either smiled or nodded to him respectfully, as befitted an elder his age. And, of course, because he was the father of their leader.
The tabby stopped in his tracks when he heard a young voice calling his name.
"Grandpa Drewberry! Wait up, sir!"
Drewberry smiled and turned around. Racing towards him was one of the newer apprentices, Pepperpaw, or just Pepper for short. He was the son of Suntail, Drewberry's biological son, and Pepsi, an alley-cat who had joined SilverClan during a battle between them and her brother's gang. Another long story. He was small and golden with dark ginger stripes on his face, back, legs and tail, along with a similar color chest, paws, and tail tip.
As the young cat skidded to a halt, Drewberry grinned at him playfully. "Hey, Pepper," he greeted. "You here to jump on my back or something?"
Pepper smiled and shook his head, sending the thick bang of black fur on the top of his head (inherited from his mother) rippling back and forth between his eyes. "Nah. I wouldn't dream of doing that to a warrior of your-"
"Careful, Pepper," Drewberry warned with a teasing frown.
"-popular, distinguished, social status," the apprentice finished, shaking his tail sheepishly.
Drewberry chuckled. "Nice try. Although," he continued, "I do appreciate your consideration of my age." He heaved a sigh as he thought back to his young days when Goldie, Silverstar and Stellastar were kits and used to love to clamber onto his back and beg him for a story. Those had been good days. Happy days. Where has the time gone?
Pepper's next question broke him out of his reverie. "So…are you doing anything at the moment."
"I was hoping for a little nap. Been out in the cemetery all morning."
"Oh." Pepper sounded disappointed.
Drewberry hesitated and then, stiffly, sat down, preparing himself for a long talk. "But…I can see that you want to chat, so go ahead. Spill it."
Pepper smiled gratefully and shook his head, but he lowered himself to the lush green foliage anyway so that he could look up at his Grandfather. It was a habit of his he had had ever since he was a kit. Which also made Drewberry, personally, feel as if he were still talking to a kit because he had to look down at him. "It's okay," the apprentice assured, although his eagerness to talk radiated off of him like the rays of sun on his coat. "If you're too busy, I can come back later."
"No, no, no," Drewberry reassured, slightly touched at Pepper's loyalty toward him. The apprentice had always admired Drewberry when a kit-growing up among all the stories it was hard not to be-and Pepper had always looked up to his grandsire as one would look up to a mentor. Of course, Drewberry was far too old to be Pepper's mentor, but he had always taken the time to teach his youngest grandchild anything he wished to know about how to be a better warrior. Truthfully, however, Drewberry had always expected Pepper's interest in him to wane as he grew to become an apprentice and, in time, a warrior, but was surprised, and quite pleased, so see that he didn't change, and continued to come to him for advice almost every day. It was as if they weren't just grandfather and grandchild; they were best friends.
"What would you like to know?" Drewberry asked, curling his long, striped tail around his legs, positioning the white tip perfectly over his front paws.
"Well," Pepper said, beaming and crossing his paws in front of him, a sure sign that they were going to be there for a long time. "I want to hear the story."
Drewberry cocked his head and smiled in a puzzled manner. "Which story?"
"You know. The one I keep asking my dad to tell me, but he won't. He always said he'd tell me when I became an apprentice but…I'd really like to hear it from you."
Drewberry sighed and his smiled slightly faded. "I think he would rather enjoy telling the story himself. Don't you like it when he tells you stories?"
"Oh, yeah!" Pepper answered readily. "He's the second-best storyteller I've ever heard."
Drewberry smirked. "'Second-best?'"
"Well, yeah. I mean, you're the first," was the apprentice's honest answer.
Drewberry reached out and batted Pepper's bangs playfully so that they fell into his eyes. "That's only because I've got more experience at it. Give your dad a chance. You know he always wants to spend time with you."
Pepper jerked his head up, flipping his hair back into place, but his expression became slightly troubled. "Yeah, I guess…"
Drewberry lowered his head, trying to get eye to eye. "What? What's bugging you? You don't like your father?"
"No!" Pepper protested quickly. "It's not that at all! It's just…we just can't seem to do anything together. I mean, he's into warrior fighting, reminiscing about the old times before I was born, and hunting. I'm into…well, other things. Like taking strolls through the woods, or fishing, or learning about the forest. I mean, sure I want to become a warrior and all, but not all my interests are based upon it."
"Hmm. Interesting," Drewberry muttered to himself.
Pepper tilted his head again. "What's interesting?"
"Just your tastes, is all. You're a very unique apprentice. You should have seen your cousin Tigergrace when she was an apprentice. You couldn't keep her down even if you tried. I remember when SilverClan was being attacked by those alley cats and how she so wanted to fight. She didn't do as bad as I expected, although that was when her brother Fireblaze got scarred."
"Yeah, I know. I've heard this story before," Pepper answered, although not disrespectfully. "That was also when Dad met Mom, right?"
"Sort of. It was actually a little before that time that they first met. They just got close when we held Pepsi as a prisoner of war."
Pepper wrinkled his nose. "What a weird way start to a relationship."
Drewberry smirked. "It seems to run in our family so, watch out, you're next."
"Yuck." Pepper looked even more disgusted. "I don't think I want to."
Drewberry shrugged. "You're young. Just you wait."
Pepper squirmed and then stood up. "Let's change the subject. Do you think you can teach me that tree-spring move. I'm still rusty at it."
Drewberry sighed in good humor. "You do ask a lot from your elders, don't you? I haven't done that move in months!"
"Well…I do want to learn from the best," the apprentice replied with a coy smile. "But if you don't think you're up for it," he added quickly, remember his grandfather's age, "then that's fine. I can always get Charredbreeze to go over it again with me."
Drewberry chuckled and stood up. "Well, if you're ever gonna get that move down, then I guess you had better learn from 'the best.' Let's go."
As the old warrior padded after the beaming and excited Pepper towards a nearby tree, he couldn't help but feel invigorating by his grandson's compliment. He didn't personally consider himself the best, (he had always thought his daughter was), but it was nice sometimes to hear that someone, especially a youngster, appreciated his experience and contribution to both Arem and SilverClan as something to be learned from.
As they approached the tree, Drewberry began to wish that Pepper had chosen a smaller one. This was a large, old oak, although why it stood so far away from all the other trees, he didn't know. It's trunk was wide, broad, and strong, with it's lowest branches about four tail-lengths above their heads. The thick bark showed signs of many tree-springing lessons, made by apprentices, mentors, and non-mentoring warriors alike.
Drewberry breathed a long, nervous breath, cracking a smile in Pepper's direction as he did so. "The old Spring Tree, huh? You trying to see if I have any remaining youth in me or something?"
"Uh…well, no. I was just thinking-"
"Oh lighten up! I was kidding! Get ready to witness the 'best' tree-spring in all the Clans."
Less confident than he sounded, Drewberry backed up several steps and crouched down, ignoring the stiff protestation that came from his left back leg. He took a few seconds to go through the steps in his head, and then took off as fast as is old limbs could carry him towards the Spring Tree.
Just before he rammed into the base, the warrior stopped short, crouched as low as he could, and then launched himself straight up, so that he was almost parallel to the tree's trunk, front and back legs stretching out. When he felt as if his momentum had carried him as high up as he would go, he extended his front claws and buried them deep into the bark, while bringing his back legs up and placing them directly behind his front. Then, preparing himself for the next part, the warrior suddenly sheathed his front claws and unsheathed his back ones, digging them deep into the bark as he twisted the upper part of his body around to face the ground again.
With all the remaining strength in his limbs, Drewberry launched himself from his precarious 'perch,' purposefully rocketing his body without any warning down towards his grandson.
Pepper's bright green eyes widening in surprise, not having expected this move, but made the mistake of waiting too long before scrambling to get out of the way.
Drewberry, although every inch of his body groaned in annoyance to his antics, couldn't help but suppress a laugh as his front paws plowed into Pepper's chest, driving him to the soft turf. The apprentice was wiry, so Drewberry wasn't worried about hurting him. Besides, he should be used to this.
Pepper fell full out onto his back, the wind blown out of him. He gave a couple of wheezing coughs as his lungs tried to fix themselves back into working order. Finally, the air whooshed into them and, taking several grateful breathes, he opened his eyes and found himself looking into his grandfather's, clear, sky-blue and glittering with renewed vigor and youthful mischievousness.
Laughing again, Drewberry clambered off of Pepper, trying to ignore the protests of both his muscles and bones while, at the same time, trying not make his discomfort obvious. "Didn't hurt you I hope?" he asked, playfully, the adrenaline pulsing through their old, neglected, channels as it had used to when he was younger.
Pepper rolled back onto his feet and lifted himself up. "No," he gasped, unconvincingly. "Not really."
Drewberry smirked and tapped his paw critically on Pepper's chest. "You need to toughen up some," he remarked. "A warrior should be hard muscle, not soft fluff."
"Well, I have to work up to it don't I?" Pepper whined, although he smiled as he said it. "That was awesome, by the way."
Before Drewberry could answer, they both heard the sound of clapping behind them.
Turning, they both saw the white, long-furred form of Contagious sitting just a few feet away. He had an amused, as well as impressed, smirk on his face and he was clapping his paws together in a condescending way. "Bravo!" he said as he stopped his applause and padded forward. "Congratulations, Drewberry. I think you're the only elder here in SilverClan still able to perform a tree-spring."
Drewberry returned the smirk, but wasn't too annoyed. Contagious was his son-in-law, after all, having married his daughter Moonstar. Contagious was definitely a hard-muscled warrior, but also had some soft fluff mixed in. His coat was snow white, the long, silky locks untainted by any other color, not even dust or dirt. As one could imagine, to keep his glossy coat this spotless took excessive diligence in grooming. His tail was especially fluffy and, at the base of it, he had placed a large, metal, silver tail-ring. An old family heirloom was the traditional way of describing it, although it held more meaning behind it than that. A smaller, thin band of silver metal was tied around a seemingly random piece of thick fur, hanging right beside his right eye. It upped his number on the Cool Factor quite a bit, which was probably what he'd been aiming for when he'd stuck it there. His eyes were wonders in themselves-two orbs of blazing gold-yellow, of which the pupils never dilated out of slits. It would have been unnerving if you didn't know the cat's background.
Contagious had originally come from the same alley gang and Pepsi, but had joined up with SilverClan during their run from MeteorClan, a powerful new clan whose leader was power-hungry. He was secretive, powerful, and commanding. He was what was known as a Gifted, meaning that he had special powers given to him from above, hence his somewhat unnatural characteristics. Nobody really knew exactly what his gifts were but, one thing was for sure that, if he couldn't control them, the result was complete annihilation of anything in his path. Thankfully, however, over a period of several years, he had managed to control his gifts so as to not really need the tail-band, which had helped keep them in check. Now he was a valuable addition to the clan, along with a few other Gifted who had simply appeared recently.
Drewberry had to wonder what all these Gifted, a bunch of unique individuals whom they had never heard about before, showing up had to mean, but, at the moment, he was more concerned about what Contagious wanted. "Why don't you try tree-springing?" he asked, in a friendly, daring sort of way.
Contagious's tail twitched and he immediately became serious. "No thank you. I mainly came here because Moonstar is calling out patrols. She wants you, me, Tigergrace and Suntail to scout out the woods."
Drewberry shrugged. Patrols weren't uncommon in SilverClan, although he usually volunteered for them. "Sure thing. Although I don't see the point. We haven't had trouble from any other clan for a long time."
"Yeah, well don't get too comfortable," the white warrior replied. "One of our warriors found the remains of a freshly killed prey on our territory, and our patrols have been reporting a strange scent along the boarders and trees. Somebody, non-clan related, is out there, and we mean to find out who."
"Couldn't it just be Opal, Jake or Tu?" Pepper asked, referring to the rouge family who lived deep in the forest.
"Our patrols know their scents," Contagious stated. "And they made it very clear that this is someone we don't know."
"How about you?" Drewberry asked, knowing that Contagious, having traveled more, most likely knew more scents. "Do you know who it could be?"
"I've only heard the reports. But I intend to try and identify the scent personally in a few minutes." Turning, Contagious spoke over his shoulder as he padded away. "Prepare yourself, Drewberry, and meet us by the east end of the forest. We'll start there."
"Can't I come?" Pepper asked, wanting to get in on the action.
"No," Contagious, replied, answering before Drewberry could. Turning, the Gifted faced them again. "Moonstar wanted you to join Sparrowfeather, Fireblaze and Pepsi by the west end of the forest. I'd hurry over there now, if I were you."
Pepper sighed and looked up at Drewberry. "I'd much rather go with you," he said, although he said it as one making a statement and not begging.
"Aw, c'mon," Drewberry encouraged. "You'll do great. Run along now and be a good apprentice, and keep Sparrowfeather, your two cousins, your mother and your aunt in place and in focus for me, alright?"
Pepper, although reluctant, stood up from his typical conversation position and began trotting away. "Okay…" he said, breaking out into a run towards his assigned position.
Drewberry watched him go fondly and then, becoming serious, stood up and followed Contagious towards the woods. It was time to go to work.
The woods were busy with the activity of small creatures. Mice scurried to fulfill their duties, squirrels chatted and leaped from bough to bough searching for nuts or something to gossip about; birds flitting back and forth, in the sky and through the treetops, singing in time to the foliage's downbeat.
There was one creature in particular, however, who wasn't in the mood to celebrate the good weather. In fact, he hardly noticed it as he slowly padded across the large, clear stretch of meadow land, which was dotted all over with stone graves, too caught up in his memories to care. He was a tabby cat, silver gray in color, with black stripes streaking his face, back and tail. His underside and legs were soft and white, and his tail seemed to be tipped with whitewash. The grass was so lush that his paws seemed to sink into them like a carpet as his eyes, blue and full of wisdom and experience, scanned over each engraving. His ear would sometimes twitch as he remembered a disturbing or troubling memory. Or, at other times, the corner of his mouth would lift in a smile, and he would laugh softly to himself when remembering a good memory, one that he had unintentionally forgotten until now.
This was Drewberry Pie, one of the two leaders of the AremClan. You've probably heard of his adventures, beginning from when he first joined AremClan, which had then been known as AremTribe, to his involvement in many battles and skirmishes, which led to his legacy as to being one of the most famed warriors of AremClan. Nowadays, however, he spent most of his time in his daughter's clan, SilverClan. Despite the fact he was second leader, AremClan had been experiencing peace for the last couple of years, and he was more than confident that Togo, his counterpart, would keep things under control while he was gone. The Jack Russel Terrier understood his old friend's desire to spend more time with his family, especially now that he was a grandparent to four grown warriors and an apprentice.
Although he tried not to show it, Drewberry was growing old, and age was beginning to reveal itself in his once youthful frame. His once strong, purposeful stride was now stiff and he would occasionally walk with a limp in his back leg, which was hardly noticeable unless you know it was there and looked for it. A condition of arthritis, unfortunately. It annoyed him to no end, but he refused to let it keep him down for long.
As he began to pass another tombstone, Drewberry halted and studied this one more in depth and thought. It was old and weathered, and the foliage surrounding it was thick and unattended, showing that this particular grave had been dug and erected a while ago.
Carved into the stone in neat, dusty lettering, was an old, familiar name, one that was very dear to him: Gingerflower
Drewberry just stood and stared at it for a long time, without a twitch of the ear or tail. One might have thought he was a statue, if it wasn't for the movement of his fur being buffeted by the breeze. There was no sound except for the wind's whistling condolences and the bird's jovial celebrations, oblivious to all except their own lively songs.
Finally, the old cat heaved a sigh and pictured Ginger in his mind. Strong, beautiful, alive and vibrant, with reddish-golden fur and stripes of the same, yet darker, color. Her eyes had been a sparkling gray, shining with mirth and humor. She had been happy, up to the point of her death. Sure, there had been some rough times, like when their daughter died, or when her back was broken, on their honeymoon of all times. But Drewberry was content with the fact that, all in all, he had been able to make her happy, from the time they first met, to the time they married, to the time she gave birth to their first two biological children, (all the rest had all been adopted). He only wished that he had been with her when she died.
Gingerflower Pie had perished during a gruesome, bloody battle when NednilClan had split up into DragonClan and SilverClan, along with their oldest, adopted son Silverstar. His grave was beside his mother's.
Drewberry felt tears moisten his eyes as he read the inscription on his wife's tombstone. It had been written in the old Nednil script, but Drewberry had learned it long ago, back when he had been striving to win Ginger's heart.
A leader for a time,
A friend forever;
Beloved and revered,
may her memory blossom in all minds.
Drewberry couldn't imagine any bigger flower of memory being in anybody's mind but his. He missed Ginger-oh, how much he missed her!-but, still, he chose to be thankful for having been able to watch his children grow up into the fine warriors they were, along with their own children. That was an especially priceless gift.
Rather reluctantly, the old warrior walked on to the next tombstone, the one to Ginger's right. This one was much older and overgrown. Scuffed, weathered and faded, Drewberry could barely read the script. Which didn't really matter, however, for he had read it many times before.
Goldenstar:
Young in age, strong in heart;
May her legacy and memory from us never depart.
Drewberry didn't even try holding back a bittersweet smile as memories of his spunky, oldest daughter flashed through his mind. Ginger had adopted Goldie before she had even met Drewberry, along with Silverstar, having then been an apprentice, but Goldie had readily agreed to their marriage. She'd even, although reluctantly, performed the duty of the flower girl. She had risen to the ranks of leader when just an apprentice, but had died only a few months after. Drewberry didn't like to think about that time. His daughter's fatal choice not only destroyed two of the most dangerous troublemakers threatening the clans at that time, but her own life as well.
Still, Drewberry found that he couldn't love Goldie any less, and his heart still ached at her memory.
Stepping back, he surveyed the two graves, along with those surrounding it. He was in the section of the graveyard which held dead leaders, so most of the names had 'Star' after them. Even though Ginger herself had been a 'Star' at one point, she had been known more by her warrior name. On her right stood Silverstar's grave and, next to his, Stellastar's, another daughter Drewberry and Ginger had adopted, and then had to fight for in order to keep custody. Only her grave was different from the others', for it contained no corpse. Stellastar had been lost in a storm at sea a long time ago.
Drewberry sighed again, his mind clouded with thoughts, memories, and images. He knew that he should probably get back to the camp, but he lingered a while longer to say his farewells. "Goodbye, all," he said, looking at each tombstone in turn. "I miss every single of of you so much. Hopefully I'll be seeing you all again soon, though."
With that, he turned around and walked back down the hill towards his daughter's camp. Deep down, however, he felt torn. He wanted to remain with his son and daughter and their children, encouraging and helping this next generation, but another part of him was tired. Very tired.
I've lived a good, full life, he thought. With enough adventure and excitement to fill up two lives and an equal share of happiness and sorrow mixed in every single season. But I think I'm ready to go. They don't really need me anymore. I'm more of an elder now than a leader, and should have retired a long time ago. With another sigh, the cat strode past the SilverClan sentry, who, of course, let him pass, and entered the camp.
The camp wasn't all that extravagant, several caves, all with their own purposes, surrounded by thick foliage for cover. It was at the bottom of the hill, so, naturally, Drewberry felt the pains of climbing down it, especially since it was so big, but he wasn't about to let himself get soft just because he found it difficult to approach SilverClan's camp.
As usual, the place was buzzing. SilverClan was a rather large clan, but there was always something for everyone to do. Some stood in one corner, sharing prey and news, while others bustled about, taking care of this and that. SilverClan was still patching up after Drewberry's granddaughter, Tornado, completely wrecked the place a while ago. Long story.
As Drewberry passed them, the clan members either smiled or nodded to him respectfully, as befitted an elder his age. And, of course, because he was the father of their leader.
The tabby stopped in his tracks when he heard a young voice calling his name.
"Grandpa Drewberry! Wait up, sir!"
Drewberry smiled and turned around. Racing towards him was one of the newer apprentices, Pepperpaw, or just Pepper for short. He was the son of Suntail, Drewberry's biological son, and Pepsi, an alley-cat who had joined SilverClan during a battle between them and her brother's gang. Another long story. He was small and golden with dark ginger stripes on his face, back, legs and tail, along with a similar color chest, paws, and tail tip.
As the young cat skidded to a halt, Drewberry grinned at him playfully. "Hey, Pepper," he greeted. "You here to jump on my back or something?"
Pepper smiled and shook his head, sending the thick bang of black fur on the top of his head (inherited from his mother) rippling back and forth between his eyes. "Nah. I wouldn't dream of doing that to a warrior of your-"
"Careful, Pepper," Drewberry warned with a teasing frown.
"-popular, distinguished, social status," the apprentice finished, shaking his tail sheepishly.
Drewberry chuckled. "Nice try. Although," he continued, "I do appreciate your consideration of my age." He heaved a sigh as he thought back to his young days when Goldie, Silverstar and Stellastar were kits and used to love to clamber onto his back and beg him for a story. Those had been good days. Happy days. Where has the time gone?
Pepper's next question broke him out of his reverie. "So…are you doing anything at the moment."
"I was hoping for a little nap. Been out in the cemetery all morning."
"Oh." Pepper sounded disappointed.
Drewberry hesitated and then, stiffly, sat down, preparing himself for a long talk. "But…I can see that you want to chat, so go ahead. Spill it."
Pepper smiled gratefully and shook his head, but he lowered himself to the lush green foliage anyway so that he could look up at his Grandfather. It was a habit of his he had had ever since he was a kit. Which also made Drewberry, personally, feel as if he were still talking to a kit because he had to look down at him. "It's okay," the apprentice assured, although his eagerness to talk radiated off of him like the rays of sun on his coat. "If you're too busy, I can come back later."
"No, no, no," Drewberry reassured, slightly touched at Pepper's loyalty toward him. The apprentice had always admired Drewberry when a kit-growing up among all the stories it was hard not to be-and Pepper had always looked up to his grandsire as one would look up to a mentor. Of course, Drewberry was far too old to be Pepper's mentor, but he had always taken the time to teach his youngest grandchild anything he wished to know about how to be a better warrior. Truthfully, however, Drewberry had always expected Pepper's interest in him to wane as he grew to become an apprentice and, in time, a warrior, but was surprised, and quite pleased, so see that he didn't change, and continued to come to him for advice almost every day. It was as if they weren't just grandfather and grandchild; they were best friends.
"What would you like to know?" Drewberry asked, curling his long, striped tail around his legs, positioning the white tip perfectly over his front paws.
"Well," Pepper said, beaming and crossing his paws in front of him, a sure sign that they were going to be there for a long time. "I want to hear the story."
Drewberry cocked his head and smiled in a puzzled manner. "Which story?"
"You know. The one I keep asking my dad to tell me, but he won't. He always said he'd tell me when I became an apprentice but…I'd really like to hear it from you."
Drewberry sighed and his smiled slightly faded. "I think he would rather enjoy telling the story himself. Don't you like it when he tells you stories?"
"Oh, yeah!" Pepper answered readily. "He's the second-best storyteller I've ever heard."
Drewberry smirked. "'Second-best?'"
"Well, yeah. I mean, you're the first," was the apprentice's honest answer.
Drewberry reached out and batted Pepper's bangs playfully so that they fell into his eyes. "That's only because I've got more experience at it. Give your dad a chance. You know he always wants to spend time with you."
Pepper jerked his head up, flipping his hair back into place, but his expression became slightly troubled. "Yeah, I guess…"
Drewberry lowered his head, trying to get eye to eye. "What? What's bugging you? You don't like your father?"
"No!" Pepper protested quickly. "It's not that at all! It's just…we just can't seem to do anything together. I mean, he's into warrior fighting, reminiscing about the old times before I was born, and hunting. I'm into…well, other things. Like taking strolls through the woods, or fishing, or learning about the forest. I mean, sure I want to become a warrior and all, but not all my interests are based upon it."
"Hmm. Interesting," Drewberry muttered to himself.
Pepper tilted his head again. "What's interesting?"
"Just your tastes, is all. You're a very unique apprentice. You should have seen your cousin Tigergrace when she was an apprentice. You couldn't keep her down even if you tried. I remember when SilverClan was being attacked by those alley cats and how she so wanted to fight. She didn't do as bad as I expected, although that was when her brother Fireblaze got scarred."
"Yeah, I know. I've heard this story before," Pepper answered, although not disrespectfully. "That was also when Dad met Mom, right?"
"Sort of. It was actually a little before that time that they first met. They just got close when we held Pepsi as a prisoner of war."
Pepper wrinkled his nose. "What a weird way start to a relationship."
Drewberry smirked. "It seems to run in our family so, watch out, you're next."
"Yuck." Pepper looked even more disgusted. "I don't think I want to."
Drewberry shrugged. "You're young. Just you wait."
Pepper squirmed and then stood up. "Let's change the subject. Do you think you can teach me that tree-spring move. I'm still rusty at it."
Drewberry sighed in good humor. "You do ask a lot from your elders, don't you? I haven't done that move in months!"
"Well…I do want to learn from the best," the apprentice replied with a coy smile. "But if you don't think you're up for it," he added quickly, remember his grandfather's age, "then that's fine. I can always get Charredbreeze to go over it again with me."
Drewberry chuckled and stood up. "Well, if you're ever gonna get that move down, then I guess you had better learn from 'the best.' Let's go."
As the old warrior padded after the beaming and excited Pepper towards a nearby tree, he couldn't help but feel invigorating by his grandson's compliment. He didn't personally consider himself the best, (he had always thought his daughter was), but it was nice sometimes to hear that someone, especially a youngster, appreciated his experience and contribution to both Arem and SilverClan as something to be learned from.
As they approached the tree, Drewberry began to wish that Pepper had chosen a smaller one. This was a large, old oak, although why it stood so far away from all the other trees, he didn't know. It's trunk was wide, broad, and strong, with it's lowest branches about four tail-lengths above their heads. The thick bark showed signs of many tree-springing lessons, made by apprentices, mentors, and non-mentoring warriors alike.
Drewberry breathed a long, nervous breath, cracking a smile in Pepper's direction as he did so. "The old Spring Tree, huh? You trying to see if I have any remaining youth in me or something?"
"Uh…well, no. I was just thinking-"
"Oh lighten up! I was kidding! Get ready to witness the 'best' tree-spring in all the Clans."
Less confident than he sounded, Drewberry backed up several steps and crouched down, ignoring the stiff protestation that came from his left back leg. He took a few seconds to go through the steps in his head, and then took off as fast as is old limbs could carry him towards the Spring Tree.
Just before he rammed into the base, the warrior stopped short, crouched as low as he could, and then launched himself straight up, so that he was almost parallel to the tree's trunk, front and back legs stretching out. When he felt as if his momentum had carried him as high up as he would go, he extended his front claws and buried them deep into the bark, while bringing his back legs up and placing them directly behind his front. Then, preparing himself for the next part, the warrior suddenly sheathed his front claws and unsheathed his back ones, digging them deep into the bark as he twisted the upper part of his body around to face the ground again.
With all the remaining strength in his limbs, Drewberry launched himself from his precarious 'perch,' purposefully rocketing his body without any warning down towards his grandson.
Pepper's bright green eyes widening in surprise, not having expected this move, but made the mistake of waiting too long before scrambling to get out of the way.
Drewberry, although every inch of his body groaned in annoyance to his antics, couldn't help but suppress a laugh as his front paws plowed into Pepper's chest, driving him to the soft turf. The apprentice was wiry, so Drewberry wasn't worried about hurting him. Besides, he should be used to this.
Pepper fell full out onto his back, the wind blown out of him. He gave a couple of wheezing coughs as his lungs tried to fix themselves back into working order. Finally, the air whooshed into them and, taking several grateful breathes, he opened his eyes and found himself looking into his grandfather's, clear, sky-blue and glittering with renewed vigor and youthful mischievousness.
Laughing again, Drewberry clambered off of Pepper, trying to ignore the protests of both his muscles and bones while, at the same time, trying not make his discomfort obvious. "Didn't hurt you I hope?" he asked, playfully, the adrenaline pulsing through their old, neglected, channels as it had used to when he was younger.
Pepper rolled back onto his feet and lifted himself up. "No," he gasped, unconvincingly. "Not really."
Drewberry smirked and tapped his paw critically on Pepper's chest. "You need to toughen up some," he remarked. "A warrior should be hard muscle, not soft fluff."
"Well, I have to work up to it don't I?" Pepper whined, although he smiled as he said it. "That was awesome, by the way."
Before Drewberry could answer, they both heard the sound of clapping behind them.
Turning, they both saw the white, long-furred form of Contagious sitting just a few feet away. He had an amused, as well as impressed, smirk on his face and he was clapping his paws together in a condescending way. "Bravo!" he said as he stopped his applause and padded forward. "Congratulations, Drewberry. I think you're the only elder here in SilverClan still able to perform a tree-spring."
Drewberry returned the smirk, but wasn't too annoyed. Contagious was his son-in-law, after all, having married his daughter Moonstar. Contagious was definitely a hard-muscled warrior, but also had some soft fluff mixed in. His coat was snow white, the long, silky locks untainted by any other color, not even dust or dirt. As one could imagine, to keep his glossy coat this spotless took excessive diligence in grooming. His tail was especially fluffy and, at the base of it, he had placed a large, metal, silver tail-ring. An old family heirloom was the traditional way of describing it, although it held more meaning behind it than that. A smaller, thin band of silver metal was tied around a seemingly random piece of thick fur, hanging right beside his right eye. It upped his number on the Cool Factor quite a bit, which was probably what he'd been aiming for when he'd stuck it there. His eyes were wonders in themselves-two orbs of blazing gold-yellow, of which the pupils never dilated out of slits. It would have been unnerving if you didn't know the cat's background.
Contagious had originally come from the same alley gang and Pepsi, but had joined up with SilverClan during their run from MeteorClan, a powerful new clan whose leader was power-hungry. He was secretive, powerful, and commanding. He was what was known as a Gifted, meaning that he had special powers given to him from above, hence his somewhat unnatural characteristics. Nobody really knew exactly what his gifts were but, one thing was for sure that, if he couldn't control them, the result was complete annihilation of anything in his path. Thankfully, however, over a period of several years, he had managed to control his gifts so as to not really need the tail-band, which had helped keep them in check. Now he was a valuable addition to the clan, along with a few other Gifted who had simply appeared recently.
Drewberry had to wonder what all these Gifted, a bunch of unique individuals whom they had never heard about before, showing up had to mean, but, at the moment, he was more concerned about what Contagious wanted. "Why don't you try tree-springing?" he asked, in a friendly, daring sort of way.
Contagious's tail twitched and he immediately became serious. "No thank you. I mainly came here because Moonstar is calling out patrols. She wants you, me, Tigergrace and Suntail to scout out the woods."
Drewberry shrugged. Patrols weren't uncommon in SilverClan, although he usually volunteered for them. "Sure thing. Although I don't see the point. We haven't had trouble from any other clan for a long time."
"Yeah, well don't get too comfortable," the white warrior replied. "One of our warriors found the remains of a freshly killed prey on our territory, and our patrols have been reporting a strange scent along the boarders and trees. Somebody, non-clan related, is out there, and we mean to find out who."
"Couldn't it just be Opal, Jake or Tu?" Pepper asked, referring to the rouge family who lived deep in the forest.
"Our patrols know their scents," Contagious stated. "And they made it very clear that this is someone we don't know."
"How about you?" Drewberry asked, knowing that Contagious, having traveled more, most likely knew more scents. "Do you know who it could be?"
"I've only heard the reports. But I intend to try and identify the scent personally in a few minutes." Turning, Contagious spoke over his shoulder as he padded away. "Prepare yourself, Drewberry, and meet us by the east end of the forest. We'll start there."
"Can't I come?" Pepper asked, wanting to get in on the action.
"No," Contagious, replied, answering before Drewberry could. Turning, the Gifted faced them again. "Moonstar wanted you to join Sparrowfeather, Fireblaze and Pepsi by the west end of the forest. I'd hurry over there now, if I were you."
Pepper sighed and looked up at Drewberry. "I'd much rather go with you," he said, although he said it as one making a statement and not begging.
"Aw, c'mon," Drewberry encouraged. "You'll do great. Run along now and be a good apprentice, and keep Sparrowfeather, your two cousins, your mother and your aunt in place and in focus for me, alright?"
Pepper, although reluctant, stood up from his typical conversation position and began trotting away. "Okay…" he said, breaking out into a run towards his assigned position.
Drewberry watched him go fondly and then, becoming serious, stood up and followed Contagious towards the woods. It was time to go to work.
Chapter 2
As the patrol padded swiftly, and cautiously, through the woods, Drewberry had to admit that it felt good being able to attend a patrol and actually have an assignment. Even though the situation was registered serious, he wasn't concerned. It could just be a random creature who was passing through and didn't know that all this territory was owned. Still, he was curious to know if Contagious would recognize the scent or not.
At the moment, the Gifted warrior was padding near the head of the group with Suntail, head raised, nose working at the air, scrutinizing every scent and filing them away in his mind. He was slightly larger than Suntail, and a bit more impressive, but still treated the smaller cat with respect, as befitted a former leader (now deputy).
Suntail was also scanning the area, not just with his sense of smell but with his eyes, sharp and green like his son's. Also like his son's he had white paws, chest and tail tip, although his tail was bushy and had no stripes. He hadn't always been the warrior he was now. Before, as a kit, apprentice, and young warrior, he had been rather timid and unsure about a lot of things. Until he found his courage, that is. A life-or-death duel will do that to some people, if they don't get killed first. Still, he was more collected than his sister, and was less prone to jump headfirst into something without thinking about it first. Still, what he liked in physical strength and skill (which was his sister's main points) he made up for in intelligence and strategy.
"Found it yet?" the deputy asked, scanning the area with both his eyes and his nose.
Contagious took another whiff and then shook his head. "Nope."
Tigergrace, a sleek, pale-gold warrior with dark gray, almost black, stripes marking her whole body, sighed in frustration. "Where could it be?" she wondered out loud from her position beside Drewberry. "I thought the patrols said that they scented the intruder just around this area."
Drewberry smirked at his granddaughter's characteristic enthusiasm, and insistence that anyone non-clan related who happened to pass through was a trespasser to be dealt with warrior-style. "Well, maybe their location description wasn't as exact as we thought," he suggested.
Tigergrace's tail twitched and she sniffed the air again. "Well," she said, speaking between drafts, "I hope that's not the case. Because, if it is, then it means somebody else will find it and the perpetrator, and we'll be left out of the action."
"I wouldn't worry about that," Drewberry assured, slowing his movements to a slower halt. The scent had been brief and faint but, Drewberry was sure, it had been there.
Tigergrace noticed and immediately halted and turned towards him, growing on the alert. "What is it, Grandpa?" she asked, her voice and expression tense with excited expectation. "Did you smell it? Can you identify who it is? Is it someone we don't know? Is it one of those alley-cats back for revenge?"
"Shh! Quiet!" Drewberry ordered, trying to concentrate on scanning all scents and he breathed in again.
Suntail and Contagious, hearing Tigergrace's rapid burst of questions, guessed what was happening and doubled back to find the two warriors sniffing the air, carefully and searchingly.
"What is it?" Suntail asked, joining in the search. "What do you smell?"
Nobody answered. They just kept on sniffing the air.
Drewberry closed his eyes and concentrated even more. He could smell the pungent earth beneath his feet; the strong aroma of pine above his head; the occasional draft of prey drifted by him but, mixed in and throughout the familiar and identifiable scents, there was that one faint one that he couldn't identify. It was too faint to recognize…and yet it was both familiar and unfamiliar.
"Found it," the tabby reported, locking onto the mystery scent as he opened his eyes and began to look around.
"Me too," Suntail answered, taking a step forward towards a thick clump of ferns. "What is it?"
Tigergrace wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Whatever it is, it doesn't smell nice."
Contagious didn't say anything, although his eyes glittered and his tail twitched. Drewberry could tell that his mind was working a mile a minute.
"Aha!" Suntail exclaimed, drawing all three cats' attentions. "I found the cause!"
Turning to the deputy, Drewberry, followed by the others, came up beside him and gazed down at where Suntail had brushed aside several fern branches. There, concealed in the shade of the leafy bushes, was the remains of a recently killed mouse.
{|{
Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, but close by to the other group, Moonstar and her patrol were conducting an investigation of their own. Pepper followed his leader respectfully a few steps behind, along with Sparrowfeather, a young warrior who had just recently been nominated out of apprenticeship. Ahead of them strode Moonstar herself and Pepsi.
Even though he knew he was supposed to be searching for the mystery scent, Pepper couldn't help but take notice of all the rich foliage around him. There were ferns, and pines, and berry bushes but, what got his immediate attention was the herbs. SilverClan was blessed to live in a forest so stockpiled with herbs, perfect for their medicinecats and doctors to resupply whenever they needed to. There were mint clumps, marigold and poppy flowers, along with various other plants that would take too long to name and categorize. Pepper liked them, not only because of their natural healing attributes, but also because of their scents. Each one was different. Which, also reminded him, to get back to work.
Raising his head, he smelled the air, trying to focus on scents other than that of herbs and the surrounding foliage. All he could scent, however, were the warm smells of prey, such as mice, rabbits, shrews, the occasional bird, and those creatures whom they didn't really eat on a regular basis. Such as deer, or racoons and such. He thought that he also caught the scent of Tu, one of the rouges, but it was faint and hardly discernible. He had only guessed that it was Tu because of the rich earthiness of it. Because the rouge family was so stealthy and good at covering their tracks, they could be following them not five feet away and the patrol wouldn't know it.
Pepper cringed as a twig snapped underneath his paw, causing the others to start. Traversing through thick foliage noiselessly was still a difficult subject in his training.
To his relief, Moonstar didn't say anything and just kept walking, positioning each step carefully but firmly, scanning each scent as it passed through her nostrils. Her long, black and white coat was glossy and smooth and one could see her fine-toned muscles rippling beneath it. Every molecule of the SilverClan leader radiated strength and prowess, which was what made her one of the best warriors in Clandom. But, of course, to Pepper, there was only one best, and that was his grandfather.
Moonstar looked especially impressive beside Pepsi, the small, sleek, less intimidating orange alley-cat. She was neither the most renowned nor powerful fighter, but she could hold her own. Her orange coat was striped black and, like her son, she had a mop of black fur on the top of her head, although her's was more stylish and didn't get into her eyes at times, like Pepper's. She could also be a bit of a chatterbox if she chanced to be in the mood.
Glancing to his left, Pepper took note of Sparrowfeather, or Sparrow for short. He was definitely warrior material: strong, muscular, daring, but with a hint of recklessness that some hoped would mellow with age. He was slightly smaller than most warriors, after all, he had only just risen in the ranks, but that didn't make him any less of one. He had joined the Clan before Pepper was born, so, naturally, he was older than him, but the two of them were close friends. After all, Pepper didn't have anyone else close to his age to hang out with.
And then there was Fireblaze, who was striding to Pepper's left. His rusty-red coat was dappled by the sunlight streaming down through the foliage, and the large, red scar covering the whole left side of his face was still visible, a war-wound he had received while still an apprentice. He was known as a strong, but silent, warrior, not one to talk very much. Some said that he became that way directly after his injury. But, still, even with one eye he was still able to fight impressively.
It was an interesting patrol, but it was bound to prove at least slightly intimidating if they were to run into any strangers. Maybe that was why Moonstar arranged them this way.
Pepper suppressed a sigh and kept sniffing. According to the landmarks, they were nearing the boundaries of the west forest and would soon move into the east. That's Grandpa's area! Pepper thought with pleasure. Won't he be proud to see that I'm doing my job! Dad too! With that, the apprentice began to concentrate more and sniff even harder.
|{|
"I don't get it. It's a dead mouse!" Tigergrace exclaimed, sounding slightly disappointed.
Drewberry glanced at her. From the tone of her voice it sounded as if she had been expecting the trespasser to have been lying in the ferns this whole time waiting for them to catch him. "Yes, dear granddaughter," he smirked. "And what does that tell you?"
Tigergrace frowned but then suddenly got it. "Oh, right!" She immediately became serious and glanced around, her ears pinned back savagely against her head. "Somebody's been illegally hunting on our territory!" Taking a step forward, her brown eyes flashed with that fiery passion she was so known for. "Alright!" she snarled, her voice echoing through the trees like a warning bugle. "Whoever left this stinking carcass here to rot, show yourself right now and face me!"
"Oh, calm down, Tigergrace," Suntail retorted, although her typical behavior amused not only him but the others as well. "If there was anyone around, there would be a stronger scent. Check again. This mouse was eaten at least a day or two ago."
Tigergrace sniffed the air again and then relaxed. "Oh." Sitting down on her haunches, she tossed her head indifferently. "Sorry about that, but one can't be too careful in these types of situations."
"Yes, and we all appreciate your extensive diligence," Contagious replied in a deadpan tone of voice, "but I don't think we need to worry. I recognize the scent." He glanced at both Drewberry and Suntail. "Don't you?"
Drewberry nodded solemnly. "It's been a while, but yes, I do."
Suntail breathed in again through his nostrils and grimaced. "It'll take me a long time in order to forget that smell," he retorted.
"I knew it!" Tigergrace suddenly broke in again, losing her seriousness and becoming excited. "It's MeteorClan again, isn't it? Amelia recovered and now she's coming back for seconds, right?"
"Wrong," Contagious answered, promptly, his ear twitching.
"Oh." Tigergrace's face fell. "Darn! Well…is it Griffin?"
"He lives with us now, remember?" Suntail prompted. The Gifted former-assassin had been living for a while now under the name of Timber. After gravely wounded in a fight with Moonstar (then Moonbattle) he had suddenly reappeared to the Clans with no memory of his past life as one of their deadliest foes. SilverClan took the wounded cat in but, in his warped, morphed form, which had been brought on by his memory loss confusing his powers, they didn't recognize him until Moonstar put all the pieces together. But his personality had dramatically changed from a deadly, blood-lusting Gifted assassin, to a creature who was gentle, caring and fond of the kits and apprentices, that SilverClan decided to keep him on in hopes that his new and improved life would redeem his reputation. So far, it had worked and 'Timber' Griffin remained.
"Oh, right," Tigergrace remembered, smiling sheepishly. She and her brothers had been the first to stumble upon the wounded Griffin in the woods near Opal's place, fondly giving him his new name and making friends with him. He had been their guardian throughout their apprenticeship, which had helped since the threesome had lost their mother Stellastar to a storm just recently before.
Shot down twice, Tigergrace still refused to give up. "Then…Orange Majesty?"
"He's dead!" Drewberry exclaimed, surprised that she would even suggest that. The Sith Lord tiger had died long before Tigergrace had been born, when Stellastar had only been an apprentice!
Tigergrace gave an exasperated sigh, tired of guessing. "Well who then!?"
"Smell the scent again," Suntail prompted, wanting his older cousin to brush up on her scent-identification skills.
Rolling her eyes, Tigergrace did so, wrinkling her nose when she found it. "Ew!" she retorted. Opening her mouth, she breathed in and then smacked and rolled her tongue in disgust as she tasted it. "It's like…oily garbage or something like that. Kind of reminds me when the alley-cats were-" she halted suddenly and her eyes grew big. "Oh, that's it isn't it!?"
"Ten points to the warrior!" Suntail praised, beaming broadly.
Tigergrace looked confused. "They're back!? I thought we whopped them good last time!"
"It's not an army," Contagious replied, rechecking the scent himself. "It's just one. In fact, you know him."
"I do?" Tigergrace moved from confused to perplexed. "The only street cat I know is Pepsi."
"Wait a minute," Drewberry broke in. "If it's an alley-cat, why didn't are sentries recognize it?"
Contagious shrugged. "Because they never really got a good dose of it like we did in the alley itself. The only time they ever smelled it was when the gang was around, like during the battle against MeteorClan and then when we were fighting the gang itself. Plus, maybe they're like Tigergrace. After we defeated them, it's kind of hard thinking that they will come back. Also, this scent is a bit warped by the forest smells, which makes me think that this particular cat has been around for a while, so it would be hard to recognize unless-" he smirked -"you know what you're looking for."
"So should we report back to Moonstar?" Suntail asked. Even though he had authority as deputy, he always preferred checking in with his sister in order to get her okay before making decisions. That, and he also wanted her input. When their heads were put together, they made a formidable team.
Drewberry nodded. "Definitely."
Tigergrace glanced at all of them, her fur spiked in annoyance. "Hold on a minute," she suddenly said, "I'm not moving one more step until somebody tells me who exactly we're looking out for."
Contagious seemed to ignore her and strode past them, heading back the way they had come, firm determination clear in his form and step.
"C'mon, Tigergrace," Suntail encouraged, quickly following after his friend.
"Suntail!" Tigergrace seemed frustrated now, and remained stubbornly planted where she was.
Drewberry smirked and faced his granddaughter. "Don't worry, Tigergrace," he assured. "I'll tell you."
"Please do!" Tigergrace retorted, glaring after the forms of Contagious and Suntail. "What did Contagious mean when he said I knew this guy-or girl-or whoever!?"
Drewberry's smile faded into a grim expression. Tigergrace did know this cat, but at that time she had been Tigerpaw, the rambunctious apprentice. She hadn't really been allowed to fight in the battle against the alley-cats but there was one occasion where she did, when they were all taken by surprise one day. She had had a brief face-off with one particular cat, the leader of the whole gang…who had seriously injured her brother Fireblaze.
"It's Coke," he replied.
At the moment, the Gifted warrior was padding near the head of the group with Suntail, head raised, nose working at the air, scrutinizing every scent and filing them away in his mind. He was slightly larger than Suntail, and a bit more impressive, but still treated the smaller cat with respect, as befitted a former leader (now deputy).
Suntail was also scanning the area, not just with his sense of smell but with his eyes, sharp and green like his son's. Also like his son's he had white paws, chest and tail tip, although his tail was bushy and had no stripes. He hadn't always been the warrior he was now. Before, as a kit, apprentice, and young warrior, he had been rather timid and unsure about a lot of things. Until he found his courage, that is. A life-or-death duel will do that to some people, if they don't get killed first. Still, he was more collected than his sister, and was less prone to jump headfirst into something without thinking about it first. Still, what he liked in physical strength and skill (which was his sister's main points) he made up for in intelligence and strategy.
"Found it yet?" the deputy asked, scanning the area with both his eyes and his nose.
Contagious took another whiff and then shook his head. "Nope."
Tigergrace, a sleek, pale-gold warrior with dark gray, almost black, stripes marking her whole body, sighed in frustration. "Where could it be?" she wondered out loud from her position beside Drewberry. "I thought the patrols said that they scented the intruder just around this area."
Drewberry smirked at his granddaughter's characteristic enthusiasm, and insistence that anyone non-clan related who happened to pass through was a trespasser to be dealt with warrior-style. "Well, maybe their location description wasn't as exact as we thought," he suggested.
Tigergrace's tail twitched and she sniffed the air again. "Well," she said, speaking between drafts, "I hope that's not the case. Because, if it is, then it means somebody else will find it and the perpetrator, and we'll be left out of the action."
"I wouldn't worry about that," Drewberry assured, slowing his movements to a slower halt. The scent had been brief and faint but, Drewberry was sure, it had been there.
Tigergrace noticed and immediately halted and turned towards him, growing on the alert. "What is it, Grandpa?" she asked, her voice and expression tense with excited expectation. "Did you smell it? Can you identify who it is? Is it someone we don't know? Is it one of those alley-cats back for revenge?"
"Shh! Quiet!" Drewberry ordered, trying to concentrate on scanning all scents and he breathed in again.
Suntail and Contagious, hearing Tigergrace's rapid burst of questions, guessed what was happening and doubled back to find the two warriors sniffing the air, carefully and searchingly.
"What is it?" Suntail asked, joining in the search. "What do you smell?"
Nobody answered. They just kept on sniffing the air.
Drewberry closed his eyes and concentrated even more. He could smell the pungent earth beneath his feet; the strong aroma of pine above his head; the occasional draft of prey drifted by him but, mixed in and throughout the familiar and identifiable scents, there was that one faint one that he couldn't identify. It was too faint to recognize…and yet it was both familiar and unfamiliar.
"Found it," the tabby reported, locking onto the mystery scent as he opened his eyes and began to look around.
"Me too," Suntail answered, taking a step forward towards a thick clump of ferns. "What is it?"
Tigergrace wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Whatever it is, it doesn't smell nice."
Contagious didn't say anything, although his eyes glittered and his tail twitched. Drewberry could tell that his mind was working a mile a minute.
"Aha!" Suntail exclaimed, drawing all three cats' attentions. "I found the cause!"
Turning to the deputy, Drewberry, followed by the others, came up beside him and gazed down at where Suntail had brushed aside several fern branches. There, concealed in the shade of the leafy bushes, was the remains of a recently killed mouse.
{|{
Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, but close by to the other group, Moonstar and her patrol were conducting an investigation of their own. Pepper followed his leader respectfully a few steps behind, along with Sparrowfeather, a young warrior who had just recently been nominated out of apprenticeship. Ahead of them strode Moonstar herself and Pepsi.
Even though he knew he was supposed to be searching for the mystery scent, Pepper couldn't help but take notice of all the rich foliage around him. There were ferns, and pines, and berry bushes but, what got his immediate attention was the herbs. SilverClan was blessed to live in a forest so stockpiled with herbs, perfect for their medicinecats and doctors to resupply whenever they needed to. There were mint clumps, marigold and poppy flowers, along with various other plants that would take too long to name and categorize. Pepper liked them, not only because of their natural healing attributes, but also because of their scents. Each one was different. Which, also reminded him, to get back to work.
Raising his head, he smelled the air, trying to focus on scents other than that of herbs and the surrounding foliage. All he could scent, however, were the warm smells of prey, such as mice, rabbits, shrews, the occasional bird, and those creatures whom they didn't really eat on a regular basis. Such as deer, or racoons and such. He thought that he also caught the scent of Tu, one of the rouges, but it was faint and hardly discernible. He had only guessed that it was Tu because of the rich earthiness of it. Because the rouge family was so stealthy and good at covering their tracks, they could be following them not five feet away and the patrol wouldn't know it.
Pepper cringed as a twig snapped underneath his paw, causing the others to start. Traversing through thick foliage noiselessly was still a difficult subject in his training.
To his relief, Moonstar didn't say anything and just kept walking, positioning each step carefully but firmly, scanning each scent as it passed through her nostrils. Her long, black and white coat was glossy and smooth and one could see her fine-toned muscles rippling beneath it. Every molecule of the SilverClan leader radiated strength and prowess, which was what made her one of the best warriors in Clandom. But, of course, to Pepper, there was only one best, and that was his grandfather.
Moonstar looked especially impressive beside Pepsi, the small, sleek, less intimidating orange alley-cat. She was neither the most renowned nor powerful fighter, but she could hold her own. Her orange coat was striped black and, like her son, she had a mop of black fur on the top of her head, although her's was more stylish and didn't get into her eyes at times, like Pepper's. She could also be a bit of a chatterbox if she chanced to be in the mood.
Glancing to his left, Pepper took note of Sparrowfeather, or Sparrow for short. He was definitely warrior material: strong, muscular, daring, but with a hint of recklessness that some hoped would mellow with age. He was slightly smaller than most warriors, after all, he had only just risen in the ranks, but that didn't make him any less of one. He had joined the Clan before Pepper was born, so, naturally, he was older than him, but the two of them were close friends. After all, Pepper didn't have anyone else close to his age to hang out with.
And then there was Fireblaze, who was striding to Pepper's left. His rusty-red coat was dappled by the sunlight streaming down through the foliage, and the large, red scar covering the whole left side of his face was still visible, a war-wound he had received while still an apprentice. He was known as a strong, but silent, warrior, not one to talk very much. Some said that he became that way directly after his injury. But, still, even with one eye he was still able to fight impressively.
It was an interesting patrol, but it was bound to prove at least slightly intimidating if they were to run into any strangers. Maybe that was why Moonstar arranged them this way.
Pepper suppressed a sigh and kept sniffing. According to the landmarks, they were nearing the boundaries of the west forest and would soon move into the east. That's Grandpa's area! Pepper thought with pleasure. Won't he be proud to see that I'm doing my job! Dad too! With that, the apprentice began to concentrate more and sniff even harder.
|{|
"I don't get it. It's a dead mouse!" Tigergrace exclaimed, sounding slightly disappointed.
Drewberry glanced at her. From the tone of her voice it sounded as if she had been expecting the trespasser to have been lying in the ferns this whole time waiting for them to catch him. "Yes, dear granddaughter," he smirked. "And what does that tell you?"
Tigergrace frowned but then suddenly got it. "Oh, right!" She immediately became serious and glanced around, her ears pinned back savagely against her head. "Somebody's been illegally hunting on our territory!" Taking a step forward, her brown eyes flashed with that fiery passion she was so known for. "Alright!" she snarled, her voice echoing through the trees like a warning bugle. "Whoever left this stinking carcass here to rot, show yourself right now and face me!"
"Oh, calm down, Tigergrace," Suntail retorted, although her typical behavior amused not only him but the others as well. "If there was anyone around, there would be a stronger scent. Check again. This mouse was eaten at least a day or two ago."
Tigergrace sniffed the air again and then relaxed. "Oh." Sitting down on her haunches, she tossed her head indifferently. "Sorry about that, but one can't be too careful in these types of situations."
"Yes, and we all appreciate your extensive diligence," Contagious replied in a deadpan tone of voice, "but I don't think we need to worry. I recognize the scent." He glanced at both Drewberry and Suntail. "Don't you?"
Drewberry nodded solemnly. "It's been a while, but yes, I do."
Suntail breathed in again through his nostrils and grimaced. "It'll take me a long time in order to forget that smell," he retorted.
"I knew it!" Tigergrace suddenly broke in again, losing her seriousness and becoming excited. "It's MeteorClan again, isn't it? Amelia recovered and now she's coming back for seconds, right?"
"Wrong," Contagious answered, promptly, his ear twitching.
"Oh." Tigergrace's face fell. "Darn! Well…is it Griffin?"
"He lives with us now, remember?" Suntail prompted. The Gifted former-assassin had been living for a while now under the name of Timber. After gravely wounded in a fight with Moonstar (then Moonbattle) he had suddenly reappeared to the Clans with no memory of his past life as one of their deadliest foes. SilverClan took the wounded cat in but, in his warped, morphed form, which had been brought on by his memory loss confusing his powers, they didn't recognize him until Moonstar put all the pieces together. But his personality had dramatically changed from a deadly, blood-lusting Gifted assassin, to a creature who was gentle, caring and fond of the kits and apprentices, that SilverClan decided to keep him on in hopes that his new and improved life would redeem his reputation. So far, it had worked and 'Timber' Griffin remained.
"Oh, right," Tigergrace remembered, smiling sheepishly. She and her brothers had been the first to stumble upon the wounded Griffin in the woods near Opal's place, fondly giving him his new name and making friends with him. He had been their guardian throughout their apprenticeship, which had helped since the threesome had lost their mother Stellastar to a storm just recently before.
Shot down twice, Tigergrace still refused to give up. "Then…Orange Majesty?"
"He's dead!" Drewberry exclaimed, surprised that she would even suggest that. The Sith Lord tiger had died long before Tigergrace had been born, when Stellastar had only been an apprentice!
Tigergrace gave an exasperated sigh, tired of guessing. "Well who then!?"
"Smell the scent again," Suntail prompted, wanting his older cousin to brush up on her scent-identification skills.
Rolling her eyes, Tigergrace did so, wrinkling her nose when she found it. "Ew!" she retorted. Opening her mouth, she breathed in and then smacked and rolled her tongue in disgust as she tasted it. "It's like…oily garbage or something like that. Kind of reminds me when the alley-cats were-" she halted suddenly and her eyes grew big. "Oh, that's it isn't it!?"
"Ten points to the warrior!" Suntail praised, beaming broadly.
Tigergrace looked confused. "They're back!? I thought we whopped them good last time!"
"It's not an army," Contagious replied, rechecking the scent himself. "It's just one. In fact, you know him."
"I do?" Tigergrace moved from confused to perplexed. "The only street cat I know is Pepsi."
"Wait a minute," Drewberry broke in. "If it's an alley-cat, why didn't are sentries recognize it?"
Contagious shrugged. "Because they never really got a good dose of it like we did in the alley itself. The only time they ever smelled it was when the gang was around, like during the battle against MeteorClan and then when we were fighting the gang itself. Plus, maybe they're like Tigergrace. After we defeated them, it's kind of hard thinking that they will come back. Also, this scent is a bit warped by the forest smells, which makes me think that this particular cat has been around for a while, so it would be hard to recognize unless-" he smirked -"you know what you're looking for."
"So should we report back to Moonstar?" Suntail asked. Even though he had authority as deputy, he always preferred checking in with his sister in order to get her okay before making decisions. That, and he also wanted her input. When their heads were put together, they made a formidable team.
Drewberry nodded. "Definitely."
Tigergrace glanced at all of them, her fur spiked in annoyance. "Hold on a minute," she suddenly said, "I'm not moving one more step until somebody tells me who exactly we're looking out for."
Contagious seemed to ignore her and strode past them, heading back the way they had come, firm determination clear in his form and step.
"C'mon, Tigergrace," Suntail encouraged, quickly following after his friend.
"Suntail!" Tigergrace seemed frustrated now, and remained stubbornly planted where she was.
Drewberry smirked and faced his granddaughter. "Don't worry, Tigergrace," he assured. "I'll tell you."
"Please do!" Tigergrace retorted, glaring after the forms of Contagious and Suntail. "What did Contagious mean when he said I knew this guy-or girl-or whoever!?"
Drewberry's smile faded into a grim expression. Tigergrace did know this cat, but at that time she had been Tigerpaw, the rambunctious apprentice. She hadn't really been allowed to fight in the battle against the alley-cats but there was one occasion where she did, when they were all taken by surprise one day. She had had a brief face-off with one particular cat, the leader of the whole gang…who had seriously injured her brother Fireblaze.
"It's Coke," he replied.
Chapter 3
Pepper sighed and took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the air that, by this time, he was getting well sick of. All this sniffing was getting him dangerously near to hyperventilation. How do the others do it? he wondered as he glanced around at all of his friends. They didn't seem fazed, not in the slightest.
The apprentice was also getting sick of smelling the same smells for close to an hour now, even the herbs'. Although, he knew that complaining about it wouldn't help matters, and only annoy the others, so he kept quiet. “Smell anything, yet?” he said instead.
Sparrowfeather just shook his head, breathing out loudly. “Nope,” he replied, sounding just as breathless as Pepper felt.
I guess it isn't easy, even when you're older, the younger cat noted to himself. Turning to Fireblaze, he tossed his bangs back and fixed the warrior with an inquisitive stare. “Do you?”
Fireblaze merely twitched his ear and kept smelling the breeze.
Pepper nodded, the response mostly what he had expected. “Didn't think so.”
“Hey, Moonstar,” Sparrowfeather suddenly called out. “It's getting close to noon. Do you think, maybe, we could stop for lunch or maybe a quick snack? If I have to smell all this prey without hunting it, I think I'll go mad!”
Pepper's heart leaped as he waiting anxiously for his leader's response. He hadn't wanted to say it, but Sparrowfeather's suggestion was just what he had been thinking himself.
Moonstar halted and sighed heavily, turning to the three younger cats and studying them closely with her one, deep purple eye. Finally, she nodded, looking slightly relieved herself for a break herself. “Permission granted,” she replied.
Sparrowfeather wasted no time in dashing into the foliage, searching for a shrew that he had scented just seconds before. The mere smell of it had been the last straw for him and had driven the starving tabby into asking the question in the first place.
Pepper, not wanting to disrupt his friend's hunting, turned and went in the opposite direction. He was pretty sure that now they were just inside the East Forest, and would meet up with Contagious's patrol soon. He hoped that they had had more success than Moonstar's.
He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he caught the sight—and scent—of a mouse, who was nibbling at a small seed at the foot of a large tree.
Pepper immediately crouched down and stared at his target intently. To his relief, the little woodland creature hadn't spotted him, but continued to nibble away.
Cautiously, making sure that he made no noise, the apprentice crept forward, silent as a shadow. Hunting was really the only thing he excelled in while training, although he made a note to try harder at everything else. There was more to being a warrior than gathering food for the Clan, although that was an important factor.
He watched the mouse carefully, becoming so focused that he was hardly aware of anything else except the unsuspecting prey in front of him. Scanning every inch of it with his sharp, green eyes, the apprentice, for no particular reason, took in every detail. It's fur was sleek and gray, and it strongly hinted towards being plump and juicy. It's bright eyes were pitch black, also focused on the small nut it was eating, it's small whiskers twitching along with it's nose to the rhythm of it's teeth's rapid gnawing. Occasionally, it's ears would swivel back and forth, taking in the surrounding noise by mere instinct, but Pepper was too quiet a stalker for it to catch his padded footfalls.
Pepper's mouth watered as he watched the small, defenseless creature finish the seed and straighten up. It began to lick it's paws and wipe it's nose, seeming to want to clean up after it's meal.
The young cat stopped not three feet away and began to prepare himself to launch. He knew that he should get closer but he didn't care. It was right there in front of him and he had to spring. Now.
Without any noise, Pepper leaped forward, his paws outstretched and claws extended. He could see his target clearly between them.
The mouse squeaked in fright and froze in place, unable to move as the bright-ginger cat hurtled down on it.
Pepper would have gotten the mouse too but, just then, another golden cat, paler and more large, suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision and plowed into him at full force. The powerful momentum sent Pepper and the other cat flying right over the stunned mouse's head and right into the side of the tree.
Pepper winced as pain shot up his back but, at the moment, that was the least of his worries. He still had prey on the mind, but it wasn't enough to stifle his startled curiosity. Struggling, he tried to get up, but the tree roots made the ground uneven and difficult, and there was still a heavy body lying on top of him. The newcomer was also trying to stand up, but he or she managed to find the right footholds before Pepper could. Which was annoying because, as soon as the apprentice thought that he found a solid spot, there would already be a paw on it, so he was stuck lying on his side with tree roots digging into his ribs.
Finally fed up, he twisted his head around and looked up. He soon found himself staring into a pair of bright eyes, a beautiful deep brown and very annoyed.
“Tigergrace!” he exclaimed, forgetting for a moment about the mouse.
Tigergrace, however, apparently hadn't. “Don't just lie there, Peps!” she snapped. “Get that rodent before it gets away!”
Pepper immediately snapped back to attention and, seeing that mouse was dashing away towards a thick clumps of ferns, decided to take drastic action. Ignoring Tigergrace's protests, he moved his back legs back against the tree trunk and, equally ignoring the strain in his muscles, launched forward again. It was a little less graceful due to the warrior still on top of him, having been dislodged from her precarious perches because of his sudden movements, and the two of them simply ended falling down again in a tangle of limbs and tails.
This is embarrassing, Pepper thought as, once again, struggled to get up. And painful, he added, even though they were now on soft turf.
Tigergrace, however, was more one-track-minded than he was. “Somebody stop it!” she cried, trying to disentangle herself from the apprentice.
“On it!” the 'somebody' answered, and Pepper, out of the corner of his eye saw Sparrowfeather suddenly jump into view, cutting the mouse off from escape.
With a triumphant look, the dark-brown, tabby warrior struck out one paw but, apparently, the mouse was more craftier than he anticipated. It swerved in the exact opposite direction of where Sparrowfeather had expected him to run and the cat had to quickly shift gears. He struck out with his other paw but, again, the creature eluded him and took off towards another hiding place. The poor little rodent looked practically dead from fright already.
But, yet again, it was prevented by a second helper. Fireblaze suddenly leaped into it's path, causing it to halt suddenly. The rusty red warrior's one eye gleamed as he crouched down for the final spring.
The mouse just stood there, crouched low to the ground. It was trapped, and it knew it.
Just as Fireblaze leaped, however, Sparrowfeather stood up and launched himself as well at the same time, his eyes fixed only on the prey before him.
Pepper, him and Tigergrace having disentangled by this time, saw the impending collision and squeezed his eyes tight, not wanting to see it. He heard a sickening crack as the two warriors, he figured, bumped heads. Two thuds and a duo of groans quickly followed.
Opening his eyes slowly, he saw that he had envisioned the scene correctly. Sparrowfeather lay on his back, moaning as pain throbbed through his skull while Fireblaze was already picking himself up into a sitting position. He didn't make a sound, but the paw he had placed on his head and his deep grimace of pain said it all.
Pepper also saw that the mouse, having seen the opportunity, had already scampered off to some other hiding place. It was long gone by now and Pepper, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his empty stomach, knew they wouldn't be seeing it again. This hunt was over.
The sound of laughing brought all four of them out of their stupor. Turning, they all saw Moonstar, Contagious, Drewberry and Pepsi sitting together not too far away, gazing at them with eyes shining in amusement. Pepper felt momentarily ashamed and then chagrined. They had seen the whole thing.
“Oh boy,” Contagious said, finally able to speak through his laughter. “You all should have seen your faces!”
“That was some smooth hunting,” Pepsi added, examining her claws in feigned nonchalance.
“Yeah,” Moonstar agreed, the incident breaking a smile through her usually stony countenance. “How many warriors does it takes to catch a mouse?” she joked, glancing up at her mate, who was sitting beside her.
“About three and a half, I'd say,” he replied with a smirk.
Pepper blushed, and was relieved when Drewberry didn't say anything. Even though he knew that the jabs of his Clanmates weren't in rebuke, but fun, he didn't really want to hear anything that might suggest that coming from his grandfather.
“I suppose you didn't catch anything?” Tigergrace retorted, shaking her ruffled fur in an action of indifference, although the apprentice could tell that she was plainly embarrassed of the whole thing.
“Oh, we did better than that,” Drewberry finally said, his blue eyes twinkling. Glancing at the others, he smiled. “Shall we?”
Moonstar nodded and all four of them turned and, leaning down, grabbed something that had been resting behind them in the brush. When they turned back around, each held at least two pieces of prey each. Moonstar held a thrush and a sparrow; Contagious had caught a rabbit, which was practically enough for two; Pepsi, although having hunted alley rats for most of her life, had managed to produce a squirrel and a shrew and Drewberry, although old, had managed to hunt down two mice, which the others were glad to count as comfort for the one who had got away.
Moonstar laid her's down at her feet and looked up at the three gaping warriors and apprentice. “We're free to share.” She smiled again and Pepper suddenly realized how lovely his renowned leader actually was whenever she took it to mind to smile and be happy for a chance. Although, he couldn't blame her if she had lived a hard life, harder than most. “That is,” she continued, mischievously, “if you're all still hungry.”
Pepper wasted no time in scampering up to them in order to claim Moonstar's thrush. He was about to snatch it up when he remembered his manners. “Um…” Sitting back on his haunches he looked up at his leader, hoping he didn't look as hungry as he felt. “Can I please have one of your birds, Moonstar?”
Moonstar's smile widened and Pepper suddenly felt lightheaded. “Certainly, Pepperpaw,” she replied, pushing the thrush forward. “Thank you for asking. Enjoy.”
Pepper, although his stomach still growled hungrily, rather reluctantly picked up the piece of prey, mumbling a thank you as he did so. Turning, he walked back towards the tree and laid down at it's base, placing the feathery morsel between his paws.
Before digging in, however, he looked up back at Moonstar and saw her giving her sparrow to Fireblaze, although he noticed that she her smile towards him was smaller than the one she had given to Pepper. Then, turning to Contagious, she began to share the rabbit with him.
Pepper suddenly felt his heart pound but, immediately realizing what was happening, he quickly and urgently tried to shake it off as he turned back to his own meal. Oh no you don't, Pepper! he scolded as he began to pull out the feathers. You arenot going to get a crush on your leader! She's your cousin, for crying out loud!
He only looked up again, when he noticed Tigergrace pad past him with Pepsi's squirrel in her jaws. The warrior suddenly seemed to notice that Sparrowfeather had remained where he had fallen, still looking in pain.
With a sigh, slightly muffled by the food in her mouth, Tigergrace approached the warrior and nudged him with her paw. “C'mon, Sparrow,” she retorted, dropping her squirrel on the ground so that she could speak clearly. “You suffered somuch to eat and now's your chance! Get up like a warrior!”
Sparrowfeather groaned. “Just a minute,” he replied, his eyes squeezed shut. “I've almost caught…one of these cute little mice…dancing in my head.”
Tigergrace frowned. “Mice?” she repeated.
“Yeah. With cheese wedges.”
“Stand up, Sparrowfeather!” Tigergrace's patience snapped and she nudged him again. “Have a real mouse! Grandfather Drewberry's got one right now with your name on it!”
That got Sparrowfeather's attention. Opening his eyes, he finally stood up, rather stiffly, but not looking in intense pain. “Well…” he gave a lopsided smile. “If you put it that way…”
Tigergrace rolled her eyes as he passed her and laid down where she was in order to eat her own meal.
{|{
It was an hour and a half by the time the whole patrol made it back to the camp and, since then, the news had spread like wildfire about the special mission and Drewberry wasn't surprised to see that a crowd had gathered. SilverClan was a more than large clan and, it appeared, practically everyone who wasn't busy at the moment had already gathered around the rock which jutted out above their heads at the top of the hill from which the Clan's camp stood. It was from there that their leader would address them and explain what exactly was going on. Usually, though, whenever Moonstar needed to stand up there with her supporters, it was usually to announce the promotion of apprentice to warrior.
Drewberry ignored their stares and simply took his place among the crowd. He found himself sitting between two old friends of his, back during the time when they—not to mention himself—were younger.
“Greetings, Tux,” he said, nodding to the black and white cat beside him. Turning to the large, snowy Persian to his left, he nodded again. “Antoinette.”
“Greetings, Drewberry,” they both said together.
Tux was more eager to continue the conversation. “So, Drewberry,” he said, his quick eyes glittering in excitement which surpassed his age. He was roughly the same age as Drewberry, which was saying a lot. Despite that, however, he was still very handsome and was still the proud husband of Antoinette. His coat was sleek and black, with white marking his chest, muzzle, and paws. He was considered very well mannered and respected amongst the Clan as an elder. “I hear that you've been on some secret assignment,” the tuxedo cat continued.
“Can't be much of a secret if you've heard about it,” Drewberry answered, drily. “Who told you?”
Tux nodded towards the white cat beyond his friend. “Antoinette told me,” he replied, as if the matter was most obvious.
Drewberry turned back to the Persian, who merely fixed the cat with beautiful blue eyes. Antoinette was an old, family friend, now a retired medicinecat of SilverClan. She had lived back in Drewberry's time, when SilverClan and DragonClan, another Clan which was stationed not too far away from here, had been one whole Clan and not the two separate ones they were now. Back then it had been called NednilClan, after the Clan's founder. Her and Tux had never had kits, but they didn't seem to mind. Antoinette had spent her time, mostly, in caring for other Clan members' children, while Tux helped out around anyway he could.
Over the years, Drewberry had gotten to know Antoinette and her husband, and knew her as the reliable sort who wasn't one to spread gossip and rumors. “Where did you hear of it, Antoinette,” he asked, knowing that he would get a straight answer.
The Persian, old, but still beautiful, shrugged her shoulders. “What does it matter if the whole Clan is talking about it?” she pointed out, returning her gaze back to the Council Rock.
Good point, Drewberry admitted to himself. The question had been rhetorical anyway, so he didn't bother saying it out loud.
A yowl from Moonstar, who had already taken her place at the top of the Council Rock, quickly quieted the stirring crowd. Beside her on her right stood her deputy, and brother, Suntail, and, to her right, Contagious.
“Hear me, Clanmates,” she began, speaking loudly and clearly so that all could hear her. “I know that rumors have been spreading,” she scanned them all with her one eye, which hardly missed anything. “Although I'm not sure who exactly started them, let me put your minds at ease. We are not in immediate danger.”
A sigh of relief rippled throughout the whole crowd, and the air around them relaxed as they did. Danger was never appreciated, nor hoped for, amongst the Clan, especially after the bloody Revolution and the time when they had been forced to flee from their homes by MeteorClan several years ago.
“However,” Moonstar continued, “there have been reports of an intruder and, thanks to the diligence of our patrols, we have been alerted to a presence…well, most of us here remember.”
Here it comes, Drewberry thought with a slight grimace. During lunch, Drewberry, Contagious, Tigergrace and Suntail had informed Moonstar about Coke, but the rest of the Clan had yet to hear it. Drewberry had no idea why Coke seemed to be here, alone, where he had the most enemies. It was like a deathtrap for someone like him.
“This cat,” Moonstar continued, “is none other than Coke, the leader of the alley gang we fought several years ago.”
There was a startled exclamation throughout all of SilverClan and renewed chatting but, as the news and the significance of it sunk in, their talking became more heated and enraged.
“Silence!” Moonstar ordered, and, immediately, although slightly reluctantly, her Clan obeyed. “I know that this is both a shock and a concern, but, do not fear for he seems to be traveling alone.”
“We should catch him and drive him out!” an angry voice suddenly yelled.
Drewberry craned his neck over the stirring crowd and wasn't surprised at who he saw. Tigergrace.
The female cat was almost livid, as she had been when he had told her to whom the mysterious scent belonged to back in the woods, which was understandable. She had an obvious score to pick with Coke because of the scar he left on her brother's face, but Drewberry knew that, above all, Coke must not meet up with Tigergrace. Otherwise, fur would fly.
“That's enough, Tigergrace!” Moonstar, snapped, cutting the warrior off before she could continue. “We all know your feelings, but this concerns all of us, not just you.”
Tigergrace looked almost as if she would argue but, loyalty deep in her bones, she simply snarled and sat back down.
“Yes, Coke is dangerous,” Suntail suddenly spoke up. “And I agree with the fact that he needs to be caught. But I say that we should find out the reason for his presence before driving him away. Give him a chance to explain himself.” He turned to his sister, expectantly. “What do you think, Moonstar?”
Moonstar thought for a moment but, when she opened her mouth to answer, somebody else beat her to it.
“Why should we bother listening to him!?” someone else called out, although Drewberry couldn't identify who it was. “His very presence hints towards no good! Let's just find him and run him out before he brings more trouble upon us!”
This started a clash in wills, which rose to a nearly deafening roar of voices, large, small, meek, gruff, SilverClan was made of all sorts of characters. Some agreed with Moonstar, others agreed with the bold speaker.
“QUIET!” Moonstar's voice suddenly rang out, immediately causing the Clan to abruptly halt in their arguments.
Scanning the crowd before her, Moonstar's eye locked on one particular cat. “Pepsi, what's your take on this?” she asked. “You know Coke. What do you think he's up to?”
The former alley-cat stood up, glancing rather nervously at the sea of expectant faces. “Well…” she began, slowly, thinking carefully through each word. “If my brother is anything, he's determined. If he's here for something more than a pass-through, than he most certainly has a motive behind his actions. Although, I'm sure he won't try anything while he's alone. If he was planning an attack, he would have brought along the whole gang.”
“Maybe he's scouting the place,” a brown lynx named Zachary suddenly suggested. He was also an older member of SilverClan. Drewberry knew him well.
“Perhaps,” Moonstar replied. Like the good leader she was, she didn't rule out any possibilities. “But, whatever the case, I advise all patrols to keep an eye out. If any of you see him, or stumble upon any hints as to his whereabouts, be sure to try and bring him back to me for an audience. I wish to talk to him first before we jump to any action. Understood?” She stared down at her Clan with a look that said that this was her final decision and that no one could sway her from it. Without a fight, that is.
The crowd stirred restlessly, not exactly satisfied, but they were all nodding in agreement.
“Good,” Moonstar continued. “Then I officially end this gathering.”
With that, the leader turned and disappeared over the rim of the rock, Contagious and Suntail following close behind.
The apprentice was also getting sick of smelling the same smells for close to an hour now, even the herbs'. Although, he knew that complaining about it wouldn't help matters, and only annoy the others, so he kept quiet. “Smell anything, yet?” he said instead.
Sparrowfeather just shook his head, breathing out loudly. “Nope,” he replied, sounding just as breathless as Pepper felt.
I guess it isn't easy, even when you're older, the younger cat noted to himself. Turning to Fireblaze, he tossed his bangs back and fixed the warrior with an inquisitive stare. “Do you?”
Fireblaze merely twitched his ear and kept smelling the breeze.
Pepper nodded, the response mostly what he had expected. “Didn't think so.”
“Hey, Moonstar,” Sparrowfeather suddenly called out. “It's getting close to noon. Do you think, maybe, we could stop for lunch or maybe a quick snack? If I have to smell all this prey without hunting it, I think I'll go mad!”
Pepper's heart leaped as he waiting anxiously for his leader's response. He hadn't wanted to say it, but Sparrowfeather's suggestion was just what he had been thinking himself.
Moonstar halted and sighed heavily, turning to the three younger cats and studying them closely with her one, deep purple eye. Finally, she nodded, looking slightly relieved herself for a break herself. “Permission granted,” she replied.
Sparrowfeather wasted no time in dashing into the foliage, searching for a shrew that he had scented just seconds before. The mere smell of it had been the last straw for him and had driven the starving tabby into asking the question in the first place.
Pepper, not wanting to disrupt his friend's hunting, turned and went in the opposite direction. He was pretty sure that now they were just inside the East Forest, and would meet up with Contagious's patrol soon. He hoped that they had had more success than Moonstar's.
He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he caught the sight—and scent—of a mouse, who was nibbling at a small seed at the foot of a large tree.
Pepper immediately crouched down and stared at his target intently. To his relief, the little woodland creature hadn't spotted him, but continued to nibble away.
Cautiously, making sure that he made no noise, the apprentice crept forward, silent as a shadow. Hunting was really the only thing he excelled in while training, although he made a note to try harder at everything else. There was more to being a warrior than gathering food for the Clan, although that was an important factor.
He watched the mouse carefully, becoming so focused that he was hardly aware of anything else except the unsuspecting prey in front of him. Scanning every inch of it with his sharp, green eyes, the apprentice, for no particular reason, took in every detail. It's fur was sleek and gray, and it strongly hinted towards being plump and juicy. It's bright eyes were pitch black, also focused on the small nut it was eating, it's small whiskers twitching along with it's nose to the rhythm of it's teeth's rapid gnawing. Occasionally, it's ears would swivel back and forth, taking in the surrounding noise by mere instinct, but Pepper was too quiet a stalker for it to catch his padded footfalls.
Pepper's mouth watered as he watched the small, defenseless creature finish the seed and straighten up. It began to lick it's paws and wipe it's nose, seeming to want to clean up after it's meal.
The young cat stopped not three feet away and began to prepare himself to launch. He knew that he should get closer but he didn't care. It was right there in front of him and he had to spring. Now.
Without any noise, Pepper leaped forward, his paws outstretched and claws extended. He could see his target clearly between them.
The mouse squeaked in fright and froze in place, unable to move as the bright-ginger cat hurtled down on it.
Pepper would have gotten the mouse too but, just then, another golden cat, paler and more large, suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision and plowed into him at full force. The powerful momentum sent Pepper and the other cat flying right over the stunned mouse's head and right into the side of the tree.
Pepper winced as pain shot up his back but, at the moment, that was the least of his worries. He still had prey on the mind, but it wasn't enough to stifle his startled curiosity. Struggling, he tried to get up, but the tree roots made the ground uneven and difficult, and there was still a heavy body lying on top of him. The newcomer was also trying to stand up, but he or she managed to find the right footholds before Pepper could. Which was annoying because, as soon as the apprentice thought that he found a solid spot, there would already be a paw on it, so he was stuck lying on his side with tree roots digging into his ribs.
Finally fed up, he twisted his head around and looked up. He soon found himself staring into a pair of bright eyes, a beautiful deep brown and very annoyed.
“Tigergrace!” he exclaimed, forgetting for a moment about the mouse.
Tigergrace, however, apparently hadn't. “Don't just lie there, Peps!” she snapped. “Get that rodent before it gets away!”
Pepper immediately snapped back to attention and, seeing that mouse was dashing away towards a thick clumps of ferns, decided to take drastic action. Ignoring Tigergrace's protests, he moved his back legs back against the tree trunk and, equally ignoring the strain in his muscles, launched forward again. It was a little less graceful due to the warrior still on top of him, having been dislodged from her precarious perches because of his sudden movements, and the two of them simply ended falling down again in a tangle of limbs and tails.
This is embarrassing, Pepper thought as, once again, struggled to get up. And painful, he added, even though they were now on soft turf.
Tigergrace, however, was more one-track-minded than he was. “Somebody stop it!” she cried, trying to disentangle herself from the apprentice.
“On it!” the 'somebody' answered, and Pepper, out of the corner of his eye saw Sparrowfeather suddenly jump into view, cutting the mouse off from escape.
With a triumphant look, the dark-brown, tabby warrior struck out one paw but, apparently, the mouse was more craftier than he anticipated. It swerved in the exact opposite direction of where Sparrowfeather had expected him to run and the cat had to quickly shift gears. He struck out with his other paw but, again, the creature eluded him and took off towards another hiding place. The poor little rodent looked practically dead from fright already.
But, yet again, it was prevented by a second helper. Fireblaze suddenly leaped into it's path, causing it to halt suddenly. The rusty red warrior's one eye gleamed as he crouched down for the final spring.
The mouse just stood there, crouched low to the ground. It was trapped, and it knew it.
Just as Fireblaze leaped, however, Sparrowfeather stood up and launched himself as well at the same time, his eyes fixed only on the prey before him.
Pepper, him and Tigergrace having disentangled by this time, saw the impending collision and squeezed his eyes tight, not wanting to see it. He heard a sickening crack as the two warriors, he figured, bumped heads. Two thuds and a duo of groans quickly followed.
Opening his eyes slowly, he saw that he had envisioned the scene correctly. Sparrowfeather lay on his back, moaning as pain throbbed through his skull while Fireblaze was already picking himself up into a sitting position. He didn't make a sound, but the paw he had placed on his head and his deep grimace of pain said it all.
Pepper also saw that the mouse, having seen the opportunity, had already scampered off to some other hiding place. It was long gone by now and Pepper, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his empty stomach, knew they wouldn't be seeing it again. This hunt was over.
The sound of laughing brought all four of them out of their stupor. Turning, they all saw Moonstar, Contagious, Drewberry and Pepsi sitting together not too far away, gazing at them with eyes shining in amusement. Pepper felt momentarily ashamed and then chagrined. They had seen the whole thing.
“Oh boy,” Contagious said, finally able to speak through his laughter. “You all should have seen your faces!”
“That was some smooth hunting,” Pepsi added, examining her claws in feigned nonchalance.
“Yeah,” Moonstar agreed, the incident breaking a smile through her usually stony countenance. “How many warriors does it takes to catch a mouse?” she joked, glancing up at her mate, who was sitting beside her.
“About three and a half, I'd say,” he replied with a smirk.
Pepper blushed, and was relieved when Drewberry didn't say anything. Even though he knew that the jabs of his Clanmates weren't in rebuke, but fun, he didn't really want to hear anything that might suggest that coming from his grandfather.
“I suppose you didn't catch anything?” Tigergrace retorted, shaking her ruffled fur in an action of indifference, although the apprentice could tell that she was plainly embarrassed of the whole thing.
“Oh, we did better than that,” Drewberry finally said, his blue eyes twinkling. Glancing at the others, he smiled. “Shall we?”
Moonstar nodded and all four of them turned and, leaning down, grabbed something that had been resting behind them in the brush. When they turned back around, each held at least two pieces of prey each. Moonstar held a thrush and a sparrow; Contagious had caught a rabbit, which was practically enough for two; Pepsi, although having hunted alley rats for most of her life, had managed to produce a squirrel and a shrew and Drewberry, although old, had managed to hunt down two mice, which the others were glad to count as comfort for the one who had got away.
Moonstar laid her's down at her feet and looked up at the three gaping warriors and apprentice. “We're free to share.” She smiled again and Pepper suddenly realized how lovely his renowned leader actually was whenever she took it to mind to smile and be happy for a chance. Although, he couldn't blame her if she had lived a hard life, harder than most. “That is,” she continued, mischievously, “if you're all still hungry.”
Pepper wasted no time in scampering up to them in order to claim Moonstar's thrush. He was about to snatch it up when he remembered his manners. “Um…” Sitting back on his haunches he looked up at his leader, hoping he didn't look as hungry as he felt. “Can I please have one of your birds, Moonstar?”
Moonstar's smile widened and Pepper suddenly felt lightheaded. “Certainly, Pepperpaw,” she replied, pushing the thrush forward. “Thank you for asking. Enjoy.”
Pepper, although his stomach still growled hungrily, rather reluctantly picked up the piece of prey, mumbling a thank you as he did so. Turning, he walked back towards the tree and laid down at it's base, placing the feathery morsel between his paws.
Before digging in, however, he looked up back at Moonstar and saw her giving her sparrow to Fireblaze, although he noticed that she her smile towards him was smaller than the one she had given to Pepper. Then, turning to Contagious, she began to share the rabbit with him.
Pepper suddenly felt his heart pound but, immediately realizing what was happening, he quickly and urgently tried to shake it off as he turned back to his own meal. Oh no you don't, Pepper! he scolded as he began to pull out the feathers. You arenot going to get a crush on your leader! She's your cousin, for crying out loud!
He only looked up again, when he noticed Tigergrace pad past him with Pepsi's squirrel in her jaws. The warrior suddenly seemed to notice that Sparrowfeather had remained where he had fallen, still looking in pain.
With a sigh, slightly muffled by the food in her mouth, Tigergrace approached the warrior and nudged him with her paw. “C'mon, Sparrow,” she retorted, dropping her squirrel on the ground so that she could speak clearly. “You suffered somuch to eat and now's your chance! Get up like a warrior!”
Sparrowfeather groaned. “Just a minute,” he replied, his eyes squeezed shut. “I've almost caught…one of these cute little mice…dancing in my head.”
Tigergrace frowned. “Mice?” she repeated.
“Yeah. With cheese wedges.”
“Stand up, Sparrowfeather!” Tigergrace's patience snapped and she nudged him again. “Have a real mouse! Grandfather Drewberry's got one right now with your name on it!”
That got Sparrowfeather's attention. Opening his eyes, he finally stood up, rather stiffly, but not looking in intense pain. “Well…” he gave a lopsided smile. “If you put it that way…”
Tigergrace rolled her eyes as he passed her and laid down where she was in order to eat her own meal.
{|{
It was an hour and a half by the time the whole patrol made it back to the camp and, since then, the news had spread like wildfire about the special mission and Drewberry wasn't surprised to see that a crowd had gathered. SilverClan was a more than large clan and, it appeared, practically everyone who wasn't busy at the moment had already gathered around the rock which jutted out above their heads at the top of the hill from which the Clan's camp stood. It was from there that their leader would address them and explain what exactly was going on. Usually, though, whenever Moonstar needed to stand up there with her supporters, it was usually to announce the promotion of apprentice to warrior.
Drewberry ignored their stares and simply took his place among the crowd. He found himself sitting between two old friends of his, back during the time when they—not to mention himself—were younger.
“Greetings, Tux,” he said, nodding to the black and white cat beside him. Turning to the large, snowy Persian to his left, he nodded again. “Antoinette.”
“Greetings, Drewberry,” they both said together.
Tux was more eager to continue the conversation. “So, Drewberry,” he said, his quick eyes glittering in excitement which surpassed his age. He was roughly the same age as Drewberry, which was saying a lot. Despite that, however, he was still very handsome and was still the proud husband of Antoinette. His coat was sleek and black, with white marking his chest, muzzle, and paws. He was considered very well mannered and respected amongst the Clan as an elder. “I hear that you've been on some secret assignment,” the tuxedo cat continued.
“Can't be much of a secret if you've heard about it,” Drewberry answered, drily. “Who told you?”
Tux nodded towards the white cat beyond his friend. “Antoinette told me,” he replied, as if the matter was most obvious.
Drewberry turned back to the Persian, who merely fixed the cat with beautiful blue eyes. Antoinette was an old, family friend, now a retired medicinecat of SilverClan. She had lived back in Drewberry's time, when SilverClan and DragonClan, another Clan which was stationed not too far away from here, had been one whole Clan and not the two separate ones they were now. Back then it had been called NednilClan, after the Clan's founder. Her and Tux had never had kits, but they didn't seem to mind. Antoinette had spent her time, mostly, in caring for other Clan members' children, while Tux helped out around anyway he could.
Over the years, Drewberry had gotten to know Antoinette and her husband, and knew her as the reliable sort who wasn't one to spread gossip and rumors. “Where did you hear of it, Antoinette,” he asked, knowing that he would get a straight answer.
The Persian, old, but still beautiful, shrugged her shoulders. “What does it matter if the whole Clan is talking about it?” she pointed out, returning her gaze back to the Council Rock.
Good point, Drewberry admitted to himself. The question had been rhetorical anyway, so he didn't bother saying it out loud.
A yowl from Moonstar, who had already taken her place at the top of the Council Rock, quickly quieted the stirring crowd. Beside her on her right stood her deputy, and brother, Suntail, and, to her right, Contagious.
“Hear me, Clanmates,” she began, speaking loudly and clearly so that all could hear her. “I know that rumors have been spreading,” she scanned them all with her one eye, which hardly missed anything. “Although I'm not sure who exactly started them, let me put your minds at ease. We are not in immediate danger.”
A sigh of relief rippled throughout the whole crowd, and the air around them relaxed as they did. Danger was never appreciated, nor hoped for, amongst the Clan, especially after the bloody Revolution and the time when they had been forced to flee from their homes by MeteorClan several years ago.
“However,” Moonstar continued, “there have been reports of an intruder and, thanks to the diligence of our patrols, we have been alerted to a presence…well, most of us here remember.”
Here it comes, Drewberry thought with a slight grimace. During lunch, Drewberry, Contagious, Tigergrace and Suntail had informed Moonstar about Coke, but the rest of the Clan had yet to hear it. Drewberry had no idea why Coke seemed to be here, alone, where he had the most enemies. It was like a deathtrap for someone like him.
“This cat,” Moonstar continued, “is none other than Coke, the leader of the alley gang we fought several years ago.”
There was a startled exclamation throughout all of SilverClan and renewed chatting but, as the news and the significance of it sunk in, their talking became more heated and enraged.
“Silence!” Moonstar ordered, and, immediately, although slightly reluctantly, her Clan obeyed. “I know that this is both a shock and a concern, but, do not fear for he seems to be traveling alone.”
“We should catch him and drive him out!” an angry voice suddenly yelled.
Drewberry craned his neck over the stirring crowd and wasn't surprised at who he saw. Tigergrace.
The female cat was almost livid, as she had been when he had told her to whom the mysterious scent belonged to back in the woods, which was understandable. She had an obvious score to pick with Coke because of the scar he left on her brother's face, but Drewberry knew that, above all, Coke must not meet up with Tigergrace. Otherwise, fur would fly.
“That's enough, Tigergrace!” Moonstar, snapped, cutting the warrior off before she could continue. “We all know your feelings, but this concerns all of us, not just you.”
Tigergrace looked almost as if she would argue but, loyalty deep in her bones, she simply snarled and sat back down.
“Yes, Coke is dangerous,” Suntail suddenly spoke up. “And I agree with the fact that he needs to be caught. But I say that we should find out the reason for his presence before driving him away. Give him a chance to explain himself.” He turned to his sister, expectantly. “What do you think, Moonstar?”
Moonstar thought for a moment but, when she opened her mouth to answer, somebody else beat her to it.
“Why should we bother listening to him!?” someone else called out, although Drewberry couldn't identify who it was. “His very presence hints towards no good! Let's just find him and run him out before he brings more trouble upon us!”
This started a clash in wills, which rose to a nearly deafening roar of voices, large, small, meek, gruff, SilverClan was made of all sorts of characters. Some agreed with Moonstar, others agreed with the bold speaker.
“QUIET!” Moonstar's voice suddenly rang out, immediately causing the Clan to abruptly halt in their arguments.
Scanning the crowd before her, Moonstar's eye locked on one particular cat. “Pepsi, what's your take on this?” she asked. “You know Coke. What do you think he's up to?”
The former alley-cat stood up, glancing rather nervously at the sea of expectant faces. “Well…” she began, slowly, thinking carefully through each word. “If my brother is anything, he's determined. If he's here for something more than a pass-through, than he most certainly has a motive behind his actions. Although, I'm sure he won't try anything while he's alone. If he was planning an attack, he would have brought along the whole gang.”
“Maybe he's scouting the place,” a brown lynx named Zachary suddenly suggested. He was also an older member of SilverClan. Drewberry knew him well.
“Perhaps,” Moonstar replied. Like the good leader she was, she didn't rule out any possibilities. “But, whatever the case, I advise all patrols to keep an eye out. If any of you see him, or stumble upon any hints as to his whereabouts, be sure to try and bring him back to me for an audience. I wish to talk to him first before we jump to any action. Understood?” She stared down at her Clan with a look that said that this was her final decision and that no one could sway her from it. Without a fight, that is.
The crowd stirred restlessly, not exactly satisfied, but they were all nodding in agreement.
“Good,” Moonstar continued. “Then I officially end this gathering.”
With that, the leader turned and disappeared over the rim of the rock, Contagious and Suntail following close behind.
Chapter 4
The night was bright and clear-bright because of the moon, which was full, radiant and milky-white. The cicadas screeched their duet with the melodious crickets, singing the twilight song to the world. Apart from them and a number of other nocturnal creatures, all was still, all was quiet, everyone was asleep.
Everyone that is, except Drewberry Pie.
The tabby cat was still, yes, but far from asleep. Or peaceful, for that matter. The day's events kept replaying through his mind, as they always did whenever he was attempting to determine the answer to a puzzling problem. And this one was certainly a pickle, hence his lack of sleep. Why would Coke come back after all these years? he wondered silently to himself. What could he possibly want? And why hasn't he shown himself?
Drewberry rolled over in his nest with a sigh, careful not to disturb or bump one of his fellow elders. Questions, questions and more questions. If it wasn't for them, he would have fallen asleep hours ago.
The nests in the elders' den were packed, cleaned and formed just right, thanks to the careful, diligent paws of the apprentices. SilverClan was blessed to have them, few as there were. Aside from Pepper there were four others, but all were upstanding and hardworking, promising to be fine warriors when their time came. Yet, despite the cushy comfortableness of the makeshift beds, Drewberry still found himself stirring in restless waves.
Finally, he stood up, careful not to awaken any of the snoring lumps of fur around him. Might as well get some fresh air, he decided as he began to pick his way carefully through the sea of elders. SilverClan had many-some older than Drewberry himself. Which wasn't saying thatmuch, but still…
There was Slitclaw, brother of Ginger, Drewberry's departed mate. He was spotted black and white, the white being more dominant to the eyes in the moonlight, which streamed through the den's opening in a milky sheen. Drewberry remembered back when Slitclaw had first come to NednilClan. It had been a surprise to everyone, especially Ginger. In fact, Silverstar had been his apprentice, then Silverpaw, appearing for the first time to the Clans in innocent ignorance to the cataclysmic, future role he would play in the breaking of NednilClan. Slitclaw had been Slitstar at one point, when SilverClan had been reeling from the sudden loss of Stellastar. He had only been a temporary, but much appreciated, replacement, and had willingly stepped down when a new, and younger, leader was chosen: Sunstar.
Drewberry breathed a barely audible sigh as the wave of memories flowed through his mind like a rushing river, soothing yet bittersweet, triggered by the very sight of his brother-in-law's splotched coat. The Nednil Dynasty of leaders had stretched on long before Goldie and up to Moonstar. Drewberry himself had once been a leader, although of AremClan, neither Nednil nor Silver. And it looked like it would continue on, unless some decision from on high said otherwise.
And then there was Sasha, a small, but tough, old white tiger. She had come to the Clans a long time ago, back when Drewberry had been a young warrior, engaged to Ginger. She had been an apprentice of sorts to Orange Majesty, one of the biggest enemies of all Clandom. She ended up assisting both AremClan and NednilClan in the famed Battle of the Sparking Biters and had stayed on with NednilClan (now SilverClan) ever since.
Drewberry thought back to the time when Sasha had joined Ginger, Kora, a small, robotic puppy, AremClan member Padme, and himself on that long journey to search for Goldenstar, then the leader of NednilClan. She had been a great and welcomed help that day, and a loyal Clanmate ever afterwards.
Drewberry was snapped from his stroll down memory lane as he stepped out into the fresh air of the summer night.
There was a rich bite to the air, the sort of nip that made the old tabby feel alive, and more alert and awake, a swift and noticeable change from the warm, sluggish sleepiness he had been walking in mere moments ago. A gentle breeze wafted past, carrying with it the dense, musty scents and smells of the surrounding forests, as rich and pleasant as the fragrance of a city bakery. Drewberry could make that comparison based upon the memories and experiences of his many adventures. The whole effect was both familiar and soothing, as if a potent balm was being administered to both his troubled mind and heart.
As he strode out into the open, Drewberry gazed around him at the camp. One couldn't say that the members of SilverClan lived a shabby lifestyle. The camp consisted mostly of a large, towering rock pile of boulders, stacked up like a small mountain and looking rather misplaced in the surrounding acres of sloping hills, meadows and forest clumps. At the top of the small mountain stood the Leader's Den where, Drewberry knew, Moonstar and her mate Contagious were sleeping right now, slumbering the night away in their nest of fine heather.
Branching off their ledge was a curved lip of jutting rock-their council rock, where the leader and a few occasional chosen speakers stood to address the Clan, like Moonstar had just that afternoon.
Below the Council Rock was a sort of cavern with two openings, side by side, serving as the main entrances. This was the den reserved for the deputy and his or her family, but also for the close relations of the leader. Suntail and Pepsi were most likely snoozing peacefully up there, the high ceiling and curved walls echoing their gentle snores. A cave containing such space practically demanded more tenants, but Drewberry preferred the Elder's Den. Not that he wouldn't have loved drifting off in that fine, roomy cavern, surrounded by the warm bodies of his beloved family, but approaching the Elder's Den was much more manageable for his old bones than a strenuous climb up the rock pile. Drewberry knew that without even having to attempt such a feat. Although he would rather jump headfirst into a bear-trap than admit it, even to himself.
Pepper, despite the fact that he was the son of Suntail and nephew of Moonstar, also preferred a ground-level den with the other apprentices. It made him feel…like an equal among everyone else, he had once confided to Drewberry during one of their 'Grandfather/Grandson' talks. Sharing the same conveniences and inconveniences like all the rest, and not the exclusive privileges that came with having a parent of high rank in the Clan.
Aside from the noble apprentice, there was no other close family to Moonstar-except for Stellastar's three kits, but they, like their cousin, preferred the plain Warrior's Den over the elaborate Family Den that stood over everyone's heads like a high, lofty perch. Drewberry admired that greatly in them, even though the actual decision to sleep in it didn't necessarily condemn a creature's character in any way whatsoever. Suntail and Pepsi were just as humble and noble as the rest of SilverClan, and the the location of their sleeping quarters, not those of anyone else, did nothing to change that.
Drewberry stretched his cramped muscles-carefully, of course, for it was possible to over-stretch-and strolled out deeper into the moonlight. The Elder's Den stood out apart from the rock-pile like a hollowed boulder, it's entrance shielded by a thick clump of tall grass. From here, standing half in and half out of the rock-pile's shadow, Drewberry could look up and barely see the top of it. Even though the whole scene and atmosphere was all familiar, Drewberry avoided the shadow. He hated darkness of any sort, especially at night. He preferred the friendly moon's vibrant glow and stayed with it, even if it meant a longer detour.
As he passed slowly over the thick, plushy grass towards the camp's entrance, Drewberry sniffed the air, checking to see who exactly was standing guard over the camp tonight. He immediately recognized the chilly scent, which burned his senses and throat with a coldness as succulent and refreshing as peppermint, and strode on without hesitation.
SilverClan didn't exactly have an official entrance, so four Clan members needed to be posted every night at all four points-North, South, East and West-in order for protection and security to be upheld. Every hour or so they were relieved and allowed to sleep-until their next shift, of course. Tonight, Drewberry was pleased to see another old friend standing faithfully alert at her post.
She was a dragon, one of the remaining few left in the world. Probably because she wasn't one of those gargantuan, massive ones you see sometimes in the movies-although she was pretty giant to Drewberry and the others but, to a human, she would probably have been a size slightly bigger than a Great Pyrenees dog. Snowy white, ice blue, and silvery gray, her scales shimmered like shards of colored glass in the light of the full moon. Her curved claws protruded from all four feet, digging into the soft turf, and her long, powerful tail with a large, gray, natural arrowhead, creating a deadly weapon at the tip, lay stretched out behind her-at rest. For now. Her glazed wings like frozen water remained folded at her sides and the ends of her hard, sharp horns tilted slightly downwards towards her blazing eyes. They were like two, giant, polished, turquoise stones sliced in half by twin, pitch black, reptilian pupils. She appeared very ferocious and intimidating-the perfect sentry. Especially if an unwelcome stranger approached. They would most certainly keep their distance from SilverClan once they got a good sight of the dragon's claws and horns.
Fortunately, to those who knew the ice dragon, she could be quite a softie. To a certain extent, of course. Throughout the rest of that extent, she was…a dragon. Enough said. Even though she was more gentler and kinder than most.
"Hello, Mercy," Drewberry greeted as he approached his old friend. Mercy the Ice Dragon. Ancient but beautiful, and becoming wiser and wiser the longer she lived. The thing about dragons was that they could live all the way back during the time of Creation all the way up to the 21st century, and yet still look barely a day over twenty. Drewberry had no idea how old Mercy was and he had never asked. Cracking questions like that was rude, after all, and he had no desire to tick off an ice dragon in any way.
Mercy blinked her brilliant eyes and smiled in greeting. "Good evening, Drewberry," she answered in her deep, melodious voice. "What are you doing up so late?"
"Just thinking," Drewberry answered, truthfully.
"Well," Mercy settled back with a sigh, "here is as good a place to do that as any." She gazed out at the surrounding trees dreamily, lost in thought.
"Do you ever remember the old camp?" Drewberry finally asked after what felt like ten minutes of silence.
Mercy glanced at him in mild surprise but recovered quickly. "Occasionally," she answered, truthfully with a shrug of her broad, muscular shoulders. "Why? Do you?"
Drewberry smirked, a little sheepishly, but not regretful. "I've just been sifting through some old memories."
"Ah…" Mercy nodded, understanding, with a gentle smile. "Care to dust one off the shelf for me?"
Drewberry slowly lowered himself down to his haunches, grateful for somebody to talk to. Someone who was his age (or older) that he could confide in. Someone he trusted and would understand his point of view, maybe even share them.
The tabby elder paused for a moment as he mentally rifled through his precious scrapbook of memories. Many were beautiful and still so fresh, as if they had just occurred yesterday. Others were dark, and not as pleasant, but he didn't dwell on those for long. Knowing that Mercy was waiting for an answer, he quickly latched onto an image that made him smile. "You remember when the kits were born?"
"Moonkit and Sunkit?" Mercy's lips drew back into a wide grin, revealing her sharp, white teeth. All dragon's smiles were rather frightening, but the lively, mischievous twinkle in the icy reptile's eyes muted any alarming effects. "You bet I do! You were a nervous wreck!"
"Was not!"
"Was too!"
"Well…what father isn't when his wife's giving birth?" Drewberry defended lamely. "To twins, no less. We were only expecting one."
Mercy snorted. "Right. Like what cat has ever had a litter of one? They can stretch up to eight or so, you know."
"Ugh…" Drewberry shuddered at that thought. "The poor father…"
"The poor mother," Mercy corrected with a smirk. Her gaze immediately misted over as her mind drifted back to that exciting, yet rather stressful, night that seemed so long ago now. "They were such beautiful kits," she sighed. "I remember that Sunkit was such a little, lovable bundle of fluff, inside and out. Had to grow into his courage that one. And Moonkit?" She chuckled fondly at the memory. "She was definitely the little warrior. Couldn't keep that one down for long, that was for certain. Reminded me of Goldie in a way, you know? And how she…" the dragon's voice became wistful and she let the sentence remain unfinished.
Drewberry remained silent as well. Hearing Goldie's name didn't hurt nearly as much as it used to. And Mercy was right. Moonstar was always well behaved, to a certain extent, but she had the same spark of fire that Goldie had always had-shining in her eyes, her fur, and the very essence of her character-as well as that same sort of reckless abandon that would come upon her whenever faced with a fight of sorts. Except that Moonbattle had never fought with a lightsaber. Those sorts of weapons had been banned ever since the Revolution, but that was a whole other story.
Despite the small wave of sadness that lapped against his heart, Drewberry couldn't help but smile and nod in agreement to Mercy's unfinished statement. "Yeah…I see the resemblance myself." With another sigh, he continued, somewhat distantly. "It's too bad the two of them never met. Goldie would have made a great big sister…" Feeling suddenly choked up, the tabby decided to quickly change the subject. "Okay, I've reminisced long enough." He regained eye contact with his friend, hoping that she didn't see the tears pricking at his own. "What about you? Care to polish and shine up an old memory of yours for me?"
Mercy smiled and laughed softly, but quickly became serious. Her pause wasn't as long as Drewberry's had been. Conjuring up an old image was easy, despite the wide variety and insane amount Drewberry figured was stored in her brain. "Well…" she said after a moment. "I remember when Opal was a pup."
The familiar image made them both laugh.
"Oh boy," Drewberry chuckled, once they had both caught their breath. "She was the true definition of a 'Holy Terror' wasn't she?"
Mercy nodded, enjoying the warm feelings that came with her shared memory. "That she was. I don't know how Togo and Lily did it, raising that girl." Mercy's expression suddenly grew melancholy and even more deep in thought. "I wonder if her parents being from different Clans made her turn out the way she did," she said, seeming to think out loud.
Drewberry shifted his weight on his paws as he grimly mulled that possibility over. "I wouldn't think so," he answered after a while. "Ginger and I were from different Clans. Our kids turned out great!"
Mercy turned to him and fixed him with a penetrating, blue gaze. "Even Goldie?"
Drewberry started, taken off guard, but met her gaze firmly. "For the most part." He couldn't help but feel defensive of his deceased daughter. He didn't defend her actions, or her motives behind them, but he was willing to stand up for her because she was his daughter. Adopted, yes, but daughter all the same.
Mercy seemed content with this answer and turned away, back towards the foliage in front of them. Either that, or she just didn't feel right about arguing the matter any further. "Isn't it sad," she said instead, "that all the good memories are always accompanied with bad ones?"
Drewberry followed her eye's direction and stared into the dark, moonlight-dappled forest floor before them. "That's life," he answered. "All seasons of life are different, and we can all learn from them. The only real challenge is whether or not we're willing to learn."
Mercy turned to her friend again, suddenly interested. "And what have you learned?"
Drewberry looked up and met her gaze once more. "Not to trust in myself, or my own strengths," he answered, evenly and with strong conviction. "But to trust in the One who is really in control of everything, and who gives me strength."
Mercy chewed on that for a moment, smiled, and then turned away once more. There really wasn't anything she could say to that.
As Drewberry gazed deeper into the dim line of trees before him, he couldn't help but think back to the one whom he had learned those words from: the Lamb.
He was called the Lamb because nobody knew his real name. He was a mysterious character who came and went, young on the outside, but seemingly ancient beyond time on the inside. Whenever he appeared, something beautiful, but sometimes terrifying, happened. Still, despite all this, Drewberry longed to see him again. The Lamb was different from any other creature in the universe, and he just has this…presence that was both wonderful and intoxicating, but in a good way, and it seemed to surround a person, even when he wasn't anywhere around. If anyone even thought about him they felt it. That's why Drewberry wasn't surprised when a sweet warmth suddenly filled his heart, driving away all depression, anxiety and cares. It was like a sauna of the sweetest of all feelings…Love. Deep down he knew that someone out there cared and was in control, even when it didn't seem like it. Someone with great power…who was on his side. It was a good feeling.
Drewberry was so wrapped up in the luxuries of the moment, that he wasn't aware of anything for what felt like forever. What 'woke' him was Mercy's guttural growl of alarm.
Startled, he shook himself, feeling his former serenity dampen enough to be replaced mostly with concern. He looked up at his friend and realized that she was fixated upon a certain point right in front of them-a blueberry bush, one of the many that one could find scattered all throughout SilverClan's woods.
Drewberry saw the same thing she did and stiffened, feeling the hair on his neck rise and spike in aggression.
A pair of gleaming, green eyes were staring at them between the ripe, round berries, unblinking and eerily focused, like a predator waiting for its prey to make just one false move.
Before Drewberry could even think about reacting, Mercy roared and, in a burst of icy air, blew out a stream of ice right towards them in a blast of frigid fury. The stream splashed against the unlucky bush and immediately encased it a wave of frost, shocking the poor plant's system and freezing the berries like a sudden winter blizzard. The liquid essence immediately solidified, blocking any and all sight of the glowing eyes, or the creature to whom they belonged.
Drewberry immediately leaped forward-still wary, but also concerned. He wished that Mercy had resorted to non-trigger-happy methods. Pawing through the frosted leaves, he winced at the biting cold that cut his pink pads, but he pressed on. Some of the still-green leaves snapped in half and fell to the ground, so frozen that they were practically pieces of ice themselves. Despite the sudden chill, the warmer weather gradually began to melt Mercy's handiwork, and Drewberry was soon standing in a paw-numbingly frigid, muddy puddle.
Finally, Drewberry broke an opening big enough to look into. He strongly hoped that the intruder hadn't been hurt much, or-
Drewberry stared harder, shocked. The sheltered, inside area of the bush was empty. It looked as if nobody and nothing had even sat beneath the branches in a long time, and Mercy's ice blast had scoured away any scent. All Drewberry smelled when he breathed in was cold.
Confused, he looked up, the purple juice that dripped from the melting berries staining the fur around his face in streaks that might have look comical if not for the expression on his face.
Mercy immediately noticed this and stared at him, suddenly worried. "Who was it?"
Drewberry shook his head, slowly, still dazed at the mystery of this whole thing and the suddeness of how it happened. "I don't know," he said, distantly. "He's gone. And something tells me that we won't be seeing him again anytime soon."
Mercy shrugged, looking relieved at this. "Well…we can only hope."
"Hmm…" Drewberry glanced once again at the bush and the rapidly decreasing casualties of the ice attack. He couldn't help but wonder if they had just missed their one and only chance in talking with Coke. Still, he reminded himself with renewed hope, if he wants to talk to us so bad, a little ice-dragon attack won't keep him down. He'll be back. Striding stiffly past Mercy, he found himself wishing her a good-night and heading back to his nice, warm nest, where there were no surprise-attacks and no bumps in the night. Just peaceful sleep.
And next time, he added in determination as he once again picked his way through his fellow elders and curled up amongst the heather that formed his bed, we're gonna have a nice, long chat about what exactly he wants.
Everyone that is, except Drewberry Pie.
The tabby cat was still, yes, but far from asleep. Or peaceful, for that matter. The day's events kept replaying through his mind, as they always did whenever he was attempting to determine the answer to a puzzling problem. And this one was certainly a pickle, hence his lack of sleep. Why would Coke come back after all these years? he wondered silently to himself. What could he possibly want? And why hasn't he shown himself?
Drewberry rolled over in his nest with a sigh, careful not to disturb or bump one of his fellow elders. Questions, questions and more questions. If it wasn't for them, he would have fallen asleep hours ago.
The nests in the elders' den were packed, cleaned and formed just right, thanks to the careful, diligent paws of the apprentices. SilverClan was blessed to have them, few as there were. Aside from Pepper there were four others, but all were upstanding and hardworking, promising to be fine warriors when their time came. Yet, despite the cushy comfortableness of the makeshift beds, Drewberry still found himself stirring in restless waves.
Finally, he stood up, careful not to awaken any of the snoring lumps of fur around him. Might as well get some fresh air, he decided as he began to pick his way carefully through the sea of elders. SilverClan had many-some older than Drewberry himself. Which wasn't saying thatmuch, but still…
There was Slitclaw, brother of Ginger, Drewberry's departed mate. He was spotted black and white, the white being more dominant to the eyes in the moonlight, which streamed through the den's opening in a milky sheen. Drewberry remembered back when Slitclaw had first come to NednilClan. It had been a surprise to everyone, especially Ginger. In fact, Silverstar had been his apprentice, then Silverpaw, appearing for the first time to the Clans in innocent ignorance to the cataclysmic, future role he would play in the breaking of NednilClan. Slitclaw had been Slitstar at one point, when SilverClan had been reeling from the sudden loss of Stellastar. He had only been a temporary, but much appreciated, replacement, and had willingly stepped down when a new, and younger, leader was chosen: Sunstar.
Drewberry breathed a barely audible sigh as the wave of memories flowed through his mind like a rushing river, soothing yet bittersweet, triggered by the very sight of his brother-in-law's splotched coat. The Nednil Dynasty of leaders had stretched on long before Goldie and up to Moonstar. Drewberry himself had once been a leader, although of AremClan, neither Nednil nor Silver. And it looked like it would continue on, unless some decision from on high said otherwise.
And then there was Sasha, a small, but tough, old white tiger. She had come to the Clans a long time ago, back when Drewberry had been a young warrior, engaged to Ginger. She had been an apprentice of sorts to Orange Majesty, one of the biggest enemies of all Clandom. She ended up assisting both AremClan and NednilClan in the famed Battle of the Sparking Biters and had stayed on with NednilClan (now SilverClan) ever since.
Drewberry thought back to the time when Sasha had joined Ginger, Kora, a small, robotic puppy, AremClan member Padme, and himself on that long journey to search for Goldenstar, then the leader of NednilClan. She had been a great and welcomed help that day, and a loyal Clanmate ever afterwards.
Drewberry was snapped from his stroll down memory lane as he stepped out into the fresh air of the summer night.
There was a rich bite to the air, the sort of nip that made the old tabby feel alive, and more alert and awake, a swift and noticeable change from the warm, sluggish sleepiness he had been walking in mere moments ago. A gentle breeze wafted past, carrying with it the dense, musty scents and smells of the surrounding forests, as rich and pleasant as the fragrance of a city bakery. Drewberry could make that comparison based upon the memories and experiences of his many adventures. The whole effect was both familiar and soothing, as if a potent balm was being administered to both his troubled mind and heart.
As he strode out into the open, Drewberry gazed around him at the camp. One couldn't say that the members of SilverClan lived a shabby lifestyle. The camp consisted mostly of a large, towering rock pile of boulders, stacked up like a small mountain and looking rather misplaced in the surrounding acres of sloping hills, meadows and forest clumps. At the top of the small mountain stood the Leader's Den where, Drewberry knew, Moonstar and her mate Contagious were sleeping right now, slumbering the night away in their nest of fine heather.
Branching off their ledge was a curved lip of jutting rock-their council rock, where the leader and a few occasional chosen speakers stood to address the Clan, like Moonstar had just that afternoon.
Below the Council Rock was a sort of cavern with two openings, side by side, serving as the main entrances. This was the den reserved for the deputy and his or her family, but also for the close relations of the leader. Suntail and Pepsi were most likely snoozing peacefully up there, the high ceiling and curved walls echoing their gentle snores. A cave containing such space practically demanded more tenants, but Drewberry preferred the Elder's Den. Not that he wouldn't have loved drifting off in that fine, roomy cavern, surrounded by the warm bodies of his beloved family, but approaching the Elder's Den was much more manageable for his old bones than a strenuous climb up the rock pile. Drewberry knew that without even having to attempt such a feat. Although he would rather jump headfirst into a bear-trap than admit it, even to himself.
Pepper, despite the fact that he was the son of Suntail and nephew of Moonstar, also preferred a ground-level den with the other apprentices. It made him feel…like an equal among everyone else, he had once confided to Drewberry during one of their 'Grandfather/Grandson' talks. Sharing the same conveniences and inconveniences like all the rest, and not the exclusive privileges that came with having a parent of high rank in the Clan.
Aside from the noble apprentice, there was no other close family to Moonstar-except for Stellastar's three kits, but they, like their cousin, preferred the plain Warrior's Den over the elaborate Family Den that stood over everyone's heads like a high, lofty perch. Drewberry admired that greatly in them, even though the actual decision to sleep in it didn't necessarily condemn a creature's character in any way whatsoever. Suntail and Pepsi were just as humble and noble as the rest of SilverClan, and the the location of their sleeping quarters, not those of anyone else, did nothing to change that.
Drewberry stretched his cramped muscles-carefully, of course, for it was possible to over-stretch-and strolled out deeper into the moonlight. The Elder's Den stood out apart from the rock-pile like a hollowed boulder, it's entrance shielded by a thick clump of tall grass. From here, standing half in and half out of the rock-pile's shadow, Drewberry could look up and barely see the top of it. Even though the whole scene and atmosphere was all familiar, Drewberry avoided the shadow. He hated darkness of any sort, especially at night. He preferred the friendly moon's vibrant glow and stayed with it, even if it meant a longer detour.
As he passed slowly over the thick, plushy grass towards the camp's entrance, Drewberry sniffed the air, checking to see who exactly was standing guard over the camp tonight. He immediately recognized the chilly scent, which burned his senses and throat with a coldness as succulent and refreshing as peppermint, and strode on without hesitation.
SilverClan didn't exactly have an official entrance, so four Clan members needed to be posted every night at all four points-North, South, East and West-in order for protection and security to be upheld. Every hour or so they were relieved and allowed to sleep-until their next shift, of course. Tonight, Drewberry was pleased to see another old friend standing faithfully alert at her post.
She was a dragon, one of the remaining few left in the world. Probably because she wasn't one of those gargantuan, massive ones you see sometimes in the movies-although she was pretty giant to Drewberry and the others but, to a human, she would probably have been a size slightly bigger than a Great Pyrenees dog. Snowy white, ice blue, and silvery gray, her scales shimmered like shards of colored glass in the light of the full moon. Her curved claws protruded from all four feet, digging into the soft turf, and her long, powerful tail with a large, gray, natural arrowhead, creating a deadly weapon at the tip, lay stretched out behind her-at rest. For now. Her glazed wings like frozen water remained folded at her sides and the ends of her hard, sharp horns tilted slightly downwards towards her blazing eyes. They were like two, giant, polished, turquoise stones sliced in half by twin, pitch black, reptilian pupils. She appeared very ferocious and intimidating-the perfect sentry. Especially if an unwelcome stranger approached. They would most certainly keep their distance from SilverClan once they got a good sight of the dragon's claws and horns.
Fortunately, to those who knew the ice dragon, she could be quite a softie. To a certain extent, of course. Throughout the rest of that extent, she was…a dragon. Enough said. Even though she was more gentler and kinder than most.
"Hello, Mercy," Drewberry greeted as he approached his old friend. Mercy the Ice Dragon. Ancient but beautiful, and becoming wiser and wiser the longer she lived. The thing about dragons was that they could live all the way back during the time of Creation all the way up to the 21st century, and yet still look barely a day over twenty. Drewberry had no idea how old Mercy was and he had never asked. Cracking questions like that was rude, after all, and he had no desire to tick off an ice dragon in any way.
Mercy blinked her brilliant eyes and smiled in greeting. "Good evening, Drewberry," she answered in her deep, melodious voice. "What are you doing up so late?"
"Just thinking," Drewberry answered, truthfully.
"Well," Mercy settled back with a sigh, "here is as good a place to do that as any." She gazed out at the surrounding trees dreamily, lost in thought.
"Do you ever remember the old camp?" Drewberry finally asked after what felt like ten minutes of silence.
Mercy glanced at him in mild surprise but recovered quickly. "Occasionally," she answered, truthfully with a shrug of her broad, muscular shoulders. "Why? Do you?"
Drewberry smirked, a little sheepishly, but not regretful. "I've just been sifting through some old memories."
"Ah…" Mercy nodded, understanding, with a gentle smile. "Care to dust one off the shelf for me?"
Drewberry slowly lowered himself down to his haunches, grateful for somebody to talk to. Someone who was his age (or older) that he could confide in. Someone he trusted and would understand his point of view, maybe even share them.
The tabby elder paused for a moment as he mentally rifled through his precious scrapbook of memories. Many were beautiful and still so fresh, as if they had just occurred yesterday. Others were dark, and not as pleasant, but he didn't dwell on those for long. Knowing that Mercy was waiting for an answer, he quickly latched onto an image that made him smile. "You remember when the kits were born?"
"Moonkit and Sunkit?" Mercy's lips drew back into a wide grin, revealing her sharp, white teeth. All dragon's smiles were rather frightening, but the lively, mischievous twinkle in the icy reptile's eyes muted any alarming effects. "You bet I do! You were a nervous wreck!"
"Was not!"
"Was too!"
"Well…what father isn't when his wife's giving birth?" Drewberry defended lamely. "To twins, no less. We were only expecting one."
Mercy snorted. "Right. Like what cat has ever had a litter of one? They can stretch up to eight or so, you know."
"Ugh…" Drewberry shuddered at that thought. "The poor father…"
"The poor mother," Mercy corrected with a smirk. Her gaze immediately misted over as her mind drifted back to that exciting, yet rather stressful, night that seemed so long ago now. "They were such beautiful kits," she sighed. "I remember that Sunkit was such a little, lovable bundle of fluff, inside and out. Had to grow into his courage that one. And Moonkit?" She chuckled fondly at the memory. "She was definitely the little warrior. Couldn't keep that one down for long, that was for certain. Reminded me of Goldie in a way, you know? And how she…" the dragon's voice became wistful and she let the sentence remain unfinished.
Drewberry remained silent as well. Hearing Goldie's name didn't hurt nearly as much as it used to. And Mercy was right. Moonstar was always well behaved, to a certain extent, but she had the same spark of fire that Goldie had always had-shining in her eyes, her fur, and the very essence of her character-as well as that same sort of reckless abandon that would come upon her whenever faced with a fight of sorts. Except that Moonbattle had never fought with a lightsaber. Those sorts of weapons had been banned ever since the Revolution, but that was a whole other story.
Despite the small wave of sadness that lapped against his heart, Drewberry couldn't help but smile and nod in agreement to Mercy's unfinished statement. "Yeah…I see the resemblance myself." With another sigh, he continued, somewhat distantly. "It's too bad the two of them never met. Goldie would have made a great big sister…" Feeling suddenly choked up, the tabby decided to quickly change the subject. "Okay, I've reminisced long enough." He regained eye contact with his friend, hoping that she didn't see the tears pricking at his own. "What about you? Care to polish and shine up an old memory of yours for me?"
Mercy smiled and laughed softly, but quickly became serious. Her pause wasn't as long as Drewberry's had been. Conjuring up an old image was easy, despite the wide variety and insane amount Drewberry figured was stored in her brain. "Well…" she said after a moment. "I remember when Opal was a pup."
The familiar image made them both laugh.
"Oh boy," Drewberry chuckled, once they had both caught their breath. "She was the true definition of a 'Holy Terror' wasn't she?"
Mercy nodded, enjoying the warm feelings that came with her shared memory. "That she was. I don't know how Togo and Lily did it, raising that girl." Mercy's expression suddenly grew melancholy and even more deep in thought. "I wonder if her parents being from different Clans made her turn out the way she did," she said, seeming to think out loud.
Drewberry shifted his weight on his paws as he grimly mulled that possibility over. "I wouldn't think so," he answered after a while. "Ginger and I were from different Clans. Our kids turned out great!"
Mercy turned to him and fixed him with a penetrating, blue gaze. "Even Goldie?"
Drewberry started, taken off guard, but met her gaze firmly. "For the most part." He couldn't help but feel defensive of his deceased daughter. He didn't defend her actions, or her motives behind them, but he was willing to stand up for her because she was his daughter. Adopted, yes, but daughter all the same.
Mercy seemed content with this answer and turned away, back towards the foliage in front of them. Either that, or she just didn't feel right about arguing the matter any further. "Isn't it sad," she said instead, "that all the good memories are always accompanied with bad ones?"
Drewberry followed her eye's direction and stared into the dark, moonlight-dappled forest floor before them. "That's life," he answered. "All seasons of life are different, and we can all learn from them. The only real challenge is whether or not we're willing to learn."
Mercy turned to her friend again, suddenly interested. "And what have you learned?"
Drewberry looked up and met her gaze once more. "Not to trust in myself, or my own strengths," he answered, evenly and with strong conviction. "But to trust in the One who is really in control of everything, and who gives me strength."
Mercy chewed on that for a moment, smiled, and then turned away once more. There really wasn't anything she could say to that.
As Drewberry gazed deeper into the dim line of trees before him, he couldn't help but think back to the one whom he had learned those words from: the Lamb.
He was called the Lamb because nobody knew his real name. He was a mysterious character who came and went, young on the outside, but seemingly ancient beyond time on the inside. Whenever he appeared, something beautiful, but sometimes terrifying, happened. Still, despite all this, Drewberry longed to see him again. The Lamb was different from any other creature in the universe, and he just has this…presence that was both wonderful and intoxicating, but in a good way, and it seemed to surround a person, even when he wasn't anywhere around. If anyone even thought about him they felt it. That's why Drewberry wasn't surprised when a sweet warmth suddenly filled his heart, driving away all depression, anxiety and cares. It was like a sauna of the sweetest of all feelings…Love. Deep down he knew that someone out there cared and was in control, even when it didn't seem like it. Someone with great power…who was on his side. It was a good feeling.
Drewberry was so wrapped up in the luxuries of the moment, that he wasn't aware of anything for what felt like forever. What 'woke' him was Mercy's guttural growl of alarm.
Startled, he shook himself, feeling his former serenity dampen enough to be replaced mostly with concern. He looked up at his friend and realized that she was fixated upon a certain point right in front of them-a blueberry bush, one of the many that one could find scattered all throughout SilverClan's woods.
Drewberry saw the same thing she did and stiffened, feeling the hair on his neck rise and spike in aggression.
A pair of gleaming, green eyes were staring at them between the ripe, round berries, unblinking and eerily focused, like a predator waiting for its prey to make just one false move.
Before Drewberry could even think about reacting, Mercy roared and, in a burst of icy air, blew out a stream of ice right towards them in a blast of frigid fury. The stream splashed against the unlucky bush and immediately encased it a wave of frost, shocking the poor plant's system and freezing the berries like a sudden winter blizzard. The liquid essence immediately solidified, blocking any and all sight of the glowing eyes, or the creature to whom they belonged.
Drewberry immediately leaped forward-still wary, but also concerned. He wished that Mercy had resorted to non-trigger-happy methods. Pawing through the frosted leaves, he winced at the biting cold that cut his pink pads, but he pressed on. Some of the still-green leaves snapped in half and fell to the ground, so frozen that they were practically pieces of ice themselves. Despite the sudden chill, the warmer weather gradually began to melt Mercy's handiwork, and Drewberry was soon standing in a paw-numbingly frigid, muddy puddle.
Finally, Drewberry broke an opening big enough to look into. He strongly hoped that the intruder hadn't been hurt much, or-
Drewberry stared harder, shocked. The sheltered, inside area of the bush was empty. It looked as if nobody and nothing had even sat beneath the branches in a long time, and Mercy's ice blast had scoured away any scent. All Drewberry smelled when he breathed in was cold.
Confused, he looked up, the purple juice that dripped from the melting berries staining the fur around his face in streaks that might have look comical if not for the expression on his face.
Mercy immediately noticed this and stared at him, suddenly worried. "Who was it?"
Drewberry shook his head, slowly, still dazed at the mystery of this whole thing and the suddeness of how it happened. "I don't know," he said, distantly. "He's gone. And something tells me that we won't be seeing him again anytime soon."
Mercy shrugged, looking relieved at this. "Well…we can only hope."
"Hmm…" Drewberry glanced once again at the bush and the rapidly decreasing casualties of the ice attack. He couldn't help but wonder if they had just missed their one and only chance in talking with Coke. Still, he reminded himself with renewed hope, if he wants to talk to us so bad, a little ice-dragon attack won't keep him down. He'll be back. Striding stiffly past Mercy, he found himself wishing her a good-night and heading back to his nice, warm nest, where there were no surprise-attacks and no bumps in the night. Just peaceful sleep.
And next time, he added in determination as he once again picked his way through his fellow elders and curled up amongst the heather that formed his bed, we're gonna have a nice, long chat about what exactly he wants.