100 Oneshots by CheeseStar (#6 Up)

The sunlight slanted through the trees, making a dappled shadow on the ground below. As the evergreens swayed and the clouds rolled forward, they almost seemed to be reflections of each other. It was late leaf-fall, close to leaf-bare. Vibrant red, yellow, orange and brown leaves added a new layer to the lasagna of dying plants.

I wish I could see that.

In the ShadowClan camp, things were always moving. The apprentices needed extra training so they would be ready for the upcoming leaf-bare. Since it was predicted to be a season short of prey, they needed all the cats they could get to expertly hunt out burrows. Queens needed more moss to make warm nests for their kits, as a litter was recently born. Stonestar, the newly appointed leader of two moons, was very busy, since the old leader (who recently retired) left him with many unfinished projects.
Plus, there was news of a new band of cats who came to the area to seek shelter for the cold leaf-bare. They were dangerous, identified by the scent of “death” on them. This scent was described to by a dusty, raw smell that did not come off. The rogues went by the name of Night Walkers.
There was only one place in the camp that was undisturbed by this. Where there was one more safe haven, other than your own thoughts. Where the ferns and fronds shielded the world away. The smell of herbs was always calming. The only noise was the slight hissing and bubbling of the spring that had been dug into the medicine den not too long ago. Hollowgaze buried his head in his paws. 23 moons spent here. 23, but he still he can't ever leave.
“Hey, let me see your face,” a quite voice chirped.
“There's nothing to see,” Hollowgaze responded bitterly.
“Come on. Your eyes are beautiful.”
“But they're useless.”
Hollowgaze was blind. He had been blind ever since he was born. His dream was to become a warrior like no other, leading ShadowClan to victory in a battle of the ages. Unfortunately, fate hadn't allowed that.
“Well, you should sleep. You've been up staring into nothing for a long time,” the voice said again.
“Specklefern, I can't stare into anything but nothing,” he snapped.
The medicine cat flinched. “I'm so sorry, Hollowgaze-”
“Whatever. You could never replace her.”
“Hollowgaze, I told you, I can't be her. You're missing a cat who was born to die.”
“Well, we're all born to die. I just wished it was someone else who had to live a short life instead of her.”
“If you miss her, why don't you join her. I have a duty, Hollowgaze. I'm not one to sitaround and wait for the opportunity.”
“Just leave. Don't play on others' weaknesses in a time of your own.”
The scent of her death is still here.
With that, he could hear the subtle rustle of the ferns being disturbed. Sitting around waiting for an opportunity? He thought. It's not like I can help it. He remembered the old days when he didn't just sit around, when she would take him out and guide him along the trail, sniffing everything on the way. Even the mouse droppings. Do I have to go to opportunity then?
Suddenly, a light appeared in his vision. It was strange, because it was all he could see. It lead him through the entrance of the medicine den and out of camp. He started at a slow pace, just keeping up with the wispy light.

“Tell me how you look again,” Hollowpaw mewed.
A twinkle danced in her eyes, although he couldn't see it that night. He heard it in her voice.
“Well, okay,” she responded. “I'm a pale, grey-white cat. I've got blue eyes, like you. I have a long, wispy tail that is fat at the beginning but gets thinner. My ears are slightly curved inwards and my nose is the colour of the summer sun. My whiskers are long, like grass, and they bend whenever I take a breath. I've got feather-like fur, partly where my name comes from.”
“How do I look? Can you tell me?”
“Sure. You have the most beautiful blue eyes; far clearer and shaded than mine. You've always got a second hue of blue over the first, like you can see through a third eye. Your fur is a warm brown, the colour of a new tree as it bursts out of the ground and reaches to the sun. You've got stripes like a chipmunk; they start at your head and end at the tip of your fluffy tail.”
“Stop it. That's how a badger looks like, too.”
“Come on. You know our mother was so proud that you inherited your father's appearance.”
“I'm sleepy now. Swiftbird, next time, can you tell me again how Goldstar looks like?”
“Our father? Just call him that, Hollowgaze.”
“He's not much of a father.”

Hollowgaze remembered this trail. He could smell the tansy and the catnip that dotted the familiar clearing. He remembered how this place smelled that day, when she was with him. The light outlined a mound in the dirt. He felt around for it.
“Swiftbird,” he whispered. Her scent was everywhere in the area. He felt the dried up heather that circled her burial. Their scent was weak and had faded when the cold replaced the sun's warmth. He gulped, feeling he familiar sensation of water building up behind his orbs of blue. “You'll always be here. But only here. You can't..” - he paused, letting the tears spill over his lids like a waterfall - “You'll never roll down the hills with me. We'll never sneak out of camp when father's not looking anymore. We can't hide in tree trunks together until a patrol finds us.”
Hollowgaze shifted to put his head on the mound. Suddenly, he heard a yowl come from his camp. Alarmed, his fur bristled and he hissed. This is bad, he thought. If someone sneaks up on me, I'm at a terrible disadvantage. But maybe he wasn't. The light appeared again, creating a glowing path for him to follow through the thick but bare growth he couldn't see. Once he was back at camp, he heard a familiar voice approach him.
“Hollowgaze!” it said, its tone rocky and its breath ragged.
“Father?” he mewed, confused. “What is happening?”
The retired leader looked at him with a stern gaze. Too bad he couldn't see that.
“Hollowgaze, you need to go. Somewhere that's not camp! It's not safe for a disabled cat.”
“But... what happened?”
“They've attacked! The Night Walkers are here!”
Suddenly, there was a sharp hiss and Hollowgaze froze. He couldn't feel his father's breathing anymore. Instead, he felt his father's head against his chest as they collapsed, his father on top of him. The killer must have thought they both died, because there was a sound of footsteps in the other direction.
“Father?” Hollowgaze's voice echoed uselessly into Goldstream's ear. Again, a sensation of a built up waterfall. “Somebody help! He needs help!” he began yowling. But his words merely bounced off closed ears that lead into hollow heads. Licking over his father's muzzle one more time, he crawled out from underneath him and stood there, senses alert. How could they get here? He thought. Stonestar organized night guards...
A spy. Of course! It was so simple! He quickly bounded to the medicine den, the scent of herbs surrounding him. Where could the second entrance be? He huddled in his little chamber, but even the haven of the medicine den could not block out the sounds of others. How can I think with all this noise? I thought it would be a good place to think here. Bending over, he knelt down to dip his whole face into the spring of water.
Hold on. Where was the spring? He leaned his head further down but he could not find it. Was it expanded? He finally chose to jump into the place where the spring used to be. Wait... This wasn't a spring anymore. It was a tunnel! This was the second entrance! Who could have had access to this... Who could've been in my den every day and night... Specklefern. His thoughts were moving too fast. Specklefern, the new cat they had taken in because Swiftbird, the old medicine cat, had died. She had joined a few moons ago seeking protection against... The Night Walkers. That's it!
Bolting out of his chamber, he entered Specklefern's. She wasn't there. But her scent was! Death. It was everywhere. He had mistaken it for the Swiftbird's late prescence, but now it was clear. Specklefern was the spy. Exiting the medicine den completely, he sniffed the air. He was smart; he knew the attackers would kill him last knowing he wasn't a threat. The scent of death was everywhere. Which source could be Specklefern?
There. The smell of herbs and earth being mixed with death. The light appeared in his vision again, illuminating the outline of a cat's silhouette. That's her, he thought. Leaping on top of the figure, he tackled her to the ground. He had no experience with fighting but the light kept appearing wherever he was supposed to claw at. Finally, he had her pinned beneath him with his paw on her chest.
“Ugh, fox dung! You're so fat!” she spat.
“Well, I just sit around, don't I?” he retorted.
He was about to tear at her chest with his claws when the light disappeared. I'm not supposed to kill yet, he thought. His paw stayed firm but he sheathed his claws.
“How did you do all this,” he whispered.
“Simple,” she hissed. “Kill the other medicine cat, and hide my scent in the herbs. Any lingering smell of death would be covered up by the assumption that it was her scent. Then, dig a nice tunnel in the chamber of the one who couldn't ever see it. I knew nobody visited you, anyway. Swiftbird's dead... and your father didn't care.”
“You killed her?!”
“Ha, I'm playing on your weakness.”
“That must mean you're weak.”
The light reappeared. Now! When he raised the paw from her chest to slash at her, she escaped, slipping her thin body out from under him. She slashed her claws across his back. Ugh! Hollowgaze cringed in pain. The light became urgent. It pulsed a brilliant shade of grey-white, engulfing him for a moment and disappearing. He felt a burst of strength and turned around, facing his opponent. His senses were maginified. He felt his head pound and he shut his eyes. Bracing himself on his hind legs, he collapsed. No, not now! Specklefern chuckled, rearing up to take a big bite at his neck. Suddenly, Hollowgaze opened his eyes and saw a brown tabby lunging at him. He dodged expertly. Wait....
“You won't dodge this one, you blind bat,” she hissed.
One problem. This blind bat wasn't so blind anymore.
He simply sat on down and pretended to look confused and in pain. When she lunged at him again, he raised his claws and raked down her belly. She gasped, collapsing to the ground with blood gushing out of her wounds. StarClan can't save her, he thought. With his new vision, he surveyed the camp. ShadowClan was losing against the Night Walkers. They would attack him as soon as the last few warriors were eliminated. They still think I'm blind.
So, he used the same trick every time. Innocently stalking through the middle of a showdown between two cats, and playing on the Night Walkers' impatience. When they finally gave up and tried to get rid of him first, he attacked them, knowing how careless they were. Finally, with help from his fellow ShadowClan cats including Stonestar, the rest of the rogues fled.
The clearing was littered with corpses and wounded cats. They had lost the queen who had recently kitted. They had lost the two cats who recently became mates. They had lost the new deputy, Silverberry. They had lost his father.
Stonestar limped towards Hollowgaze. “Hey, what's up with the sudden fight in you?That was amazing!”
He chuckled, feeling so on top of the world that he cuffed the leader over the ear.
“Well, I can see now! I'm not blind!” he mewed excitedly.
“Wow! Then I guess you can see this?” Stonestar gestured to the dead or injured Night Walkers on the ground.
“Did I do all that?”
“You sure did! Congratulations, I think you should be the new deputy.”
Hollowgaze shuddered. Such a big duty. “I think.. I want to be the new medicine cat.”
Stonestar eyed him curiously, before agreeing. “I wonder how you got your eyesight back at the climax of the battle; it's very interesting. You lead us to victory.” With that, he padded away to help an injured warrior to the medicine den. Hollowgaze decided not to follow. He'd treat everyone after.I'm the only one who can see the light, huh? His dream finally came true. He could only thank the light.
The night was just ending, as the waves of dawn began to wash away the stars. He could just make out one familiar looking one, though. This star was a grey-white, twinkling. He smiled at it. He silently thanked the light.
Swiftbird, I will make sure no one forgets you. Thank you, sister.

In the humble nursery of ThunderClan, four kits were born from two separate litters on the same day. The cats all thought it was a blessing. There was a litter of three kits and the last one was a miracle for its mother, as she was very weak in general. Honeyrose, the queen with three kits, named them Mosskit, Echokit and Acornkit. The last kit was named Iriskit, her mother's (Maplenose) favourite flower.
When they were all two moons old, their mothers partnered them up to visit different parts of camp to explore their home. The pairings were boy girl, boy girl (tom, she-cat, tom, she-cat); Mosskit and Echokit, Iriskit and Acornkit. The two siblings went to visit the medicine den. Maplenose told them to ask for tansy for her cough.
Acornkit an Iriskit were sent to the elders' den. There, Hawktail told them stories of his youth, exaggerating a tiny bit on the part where he supposedly swam the length of the river, searching for his mate. Iriskit was very curious. She asked about every detail; how deep the river was, what colour it was, how it felt. Acornkit didn't care much for fantasy; he had a different dream.
When they were six moons old and becoming apprentices, the Thunderclan leader, Poppystar, announced that each mentor would take on two apprentices, as there were many apprentices and little mentors this new-leaf. Mosspaw and Echopaw were assigned to Hawktail's son, Duskfeather. They worked well together as they grew up close, leaving Acornpaw with Irispaw. Their mentor was a fierce she-cat named Ravenwing.
On their first day of training, they took a tour of the territory. Acornpaw couldn't help but stare Irispaw. He was jealous of her intelligence, really, but he wouldn't admit it.
“My mother told me to always pay attention,” she explained, chin held high.
“My mother told me to always make dirt outside the den,” he said without thinking.
Irispaw didn't say anything after that, only looking at him funny as though he was a piece of dirt himself. Just because I'm a brown tabby doesn't make me dirt, he thought. She might be smarter than me, but I bet she's not faster!
“I'll race you to Ravenwing's tail,” he mewed once their mentor had gone ahead.
“You sure? My mother also told me to be safe,” she cautioned. “There are a lot of tree roots and I don't want to injure myself on the first day of training.”
“Now who's dirt?” he said again without realizing she hadn't actually called him dirt. He raced ahead, not caring to look behind him. Racing towards Ravenwing, he saw her getting closer and closer in his vision. He could hear the subtle rustle of leaves and could tell that Irispaw was following, but at a much slower pace. Ha, well I guess she doesn't have it all, he thought. I'll bet she's -
He didn't finish the thought because he slipped in the mud and tumbled through the sticks left behind by leaf-bare. When he stopped rolling, he found himself at the feet of Ravenwing.
“Acornpaw, why would you - ,” she began to scold him.
“Iris, I win!” he mewed quickly, not wanting to hear a lecture from his mentor's mouth. Picking himself up, he stood very awkwardly, as his leg was in pain.
“You win, huh? You win what, an injured leg?” she teased.
“Whatever, at least this injured leg is still faster than yours!” he replied, mocking her motherly tone.
“Well, I don't think dirt can even run, so I'm lucky to have legs.” There was hurt in her voice this time.
“Come on, it was just a game. You can win from now on.”
“My mother told me not to stay around mouse-brained cats or else I'll become one of them. Well, I stuck around some dirt and I guess I've become dirt!”
Now, she was actually mad. Well, so was he.
“Your mother seems so smart. I guess you're just an imitation of her! What ever happened to your dad, huh? I haven't seen him since we were kits. I guess he's really dumb if your mother is all smarty-smart, huh?” Acornpaw shot back, realizing that this fact was true once he said it. Where was her father? His father was a mentor to another pair of apprentices, but where was hers?
Irispaw looked really hurt now. Ravenwing glared at the two of them. They hadn't even realized they were interrupting her every time she tried to stop them.
“You two have disappointed me,” she almost hissed. “I expected higher things from you two after hearing what Hawktail's been saying. Next time, I'll have to bring you separately. How will your mothers feel? How will your fellow apprentices react when they hear your training's been delayed? We're going back to camp.”
Acornpaw began to walk, but it hurt, so he limped awkwardly back to camp. Irispaw wouldn't walk with him. Instead, she walked in front of him with Ravenwing, trying to negotiate something with her sweet charm. You're so fake, he thought. You don't even have a father, so I guess you're not a real cat. He felt better after reassuring himself. It was painful to walk, but at least he didn't have to keep catching up to Ravenwing's tail this time.

…

“Acornpaw, what's wrong?” Honeyrose asked, exasperated. She had been waiting for his return since he left. So, naturally, she had noticed his limping first.
“It's nothing, mother,” he scoffed, irritated from today's exploit.
“Ravenwing, what happened?” she asked, a warning tone creeping through her sweetness. Ravenwing sighed. She obviously didn't want to put up with this protective queen. “He stumbled and had a nice little tumble in the forest.”
Honeyrose gasped. “Acornpaw, we are going to see Barkspots. That leg is not going to heal itself.”
As his mother picked him up by the scruff of his neck, like she did when he was just a few moons old, he could see an amused look in Irispaw's eyes as he walked past her. Why was his mother so embarrassing?

…

“Does it hurt here?” Barkspots asked as he pressed down on a joint in Acornpaw's back leg. He winced. Barkspots didn't look happy. “Your leg is injured pretty badly. There are a few scrapes all over you, but it's the bone in your leg that's been injured the most. You'll have to stay in the medicine den for up to a moon. Does it still hurt right now? Want some poppy seeds?”
Embarrassed by all the mothering he was receiving from everyone, he just huffed. “No, I'm fine. I'm not a kit anymore; I can handle it.” His leg really hurt a lot, but he wouldn't show weakness. Barkspots looked like he wanted to say something else, but he left either way, allowing Irispaw to step through the ferns.
“Do you need something from the dirt?” he mewed bitterly.
“I need something from a fellow piece of dirt,” she replied, her tone hard to read. Why was she so mature? Acornpaw didn't like it. She-cats were attractive when they had a sense of adventure.
“Yeah, what? Spit it out.”
“Well, firstly, I want an apology.”
“Huh. You come here demanding that and expect me to give it to you? Forget it.”
“Fine. But I'll say this before you continue; I'm sorry.”
Surprised, Acornpaw turned his body to face her completely. Bad idea, because it put his left leg underneath him. He winced before flopping to the ground, his legs up in the air to make sure it didn't happen again.
“Fine.” He told himself he would not apologize. She would be winning if he did.
“Secondly, do you really want to know about my father? Mother just told me when I gave her some catnip.”
“Uh..” He really hadn't expected that. Mouse dung! She was good with getting him with her words. He shook off the uncertainty and maintained his cool composure. “Yeah, sure, if you really want to tell me.”
“I don't want to tell you, but you want to know, so I'll tell you.”
He gave her an amused face.
“Apparently, my father is from RiverClan. His name is Birchsky and he's a very handsome warrior. Strong, too. He was only allowed into the ThunderClan camp to see me as a kit, but now that I'm an apprentice, he can only see me at Gatherings, if I get to go.”
“Oh. Well.... uh, sorry about that then.”
Irispaw's eyes twinkled. “Got your apology. Now I can leave.”
Acornpaw's head snapped in her direction. How had that happened? He let her win! Whatever, he thought. Now I look more mature because I apologized. Well played, Iris, well played.

…

When Acornpaw was finally allowed to resume his training, Irispaw was already ready to become a warrior. Acornpaw watched enviously from the side as his life long friend and his siblings became warriors. After the ceremony, Irispool, Echoglow and Mosswhisker padded over to him. His siblings had grown distant from him after training together the whole time. Irispool kept teasing him until he could have sworn it changed to flirting somewhere in the middle.
“Hey, what's up? Your leg's looking better,” Echoglow mewed. Acornpaw felt something switch on inside of him at those words. Annoyance. Firstly, she was his sister. She didn't have to be polite. She could even be nasty and mean and that would be less unusual than the site of her being so nice.
“Yeah, why do you think I'm not in the medicine den anymore?” he muttered, his words almost caught by Mosswhisker's ears.
“Well, have a great time training, brother,” Mosswhisker mewed defensively after hearing Acornpaw's tone. Acornpaw scoffed. He got up to find Ravenwing and ask about his training, but realized she was mentoring a new apprentice. He panicked for a moment. Then who's...
“Hey, Acornpaw. Let's go. Your paws are gonna get dirty today. We're going to learn how to use our senses and our paws.”
Oh StarClan. Why?
“Irispool, if you're going to be like this all day, I'd rather stay an apprentice until I retire and become Reallyoldandneverbecameawarriorpaw.” He really was not in the mood.
“Relax, we're hunting today. Come on, you're lucky you got a smart cat like me to teach you; this will be faster than usual.”
He scoffed at her words. “Too bad you got a mouse-brained apprentice who will make it slower.”
That never reached Irispool's ears, though, because she was already racing out the camp entrance. Acornpaw sighed, running dejectedly because he couldn't quite bend his leg yet. Once they had found a nice clearing to start, Irispool became very strict and focused on the task.
“When you see prey, you first have to sneak up on it. When you come into range, you're going to pounce on it, grip it in your paws like this.”
She held a pine cone between her paws. “Then – don't even wait, just go for it- bite down on its neck. Anywhere in that area, really.”
Grumpy, he took a pine come into his own paws. “Looks like a piece of dirt.”
She chuckled, remembering the joke from their youth. “Well, should we call you Dirtpaw?”
He lightened up a little when she changed back from being such a know-it-all. As much as he hated the teasing, it was much better than the show-off mode she had acquired while with Ravenwing. He had grown to like it, actually.
“Well, allow me to demonstrate what I know!”
Acornpaw raced into the grass behind Irispool. As quietly as he could, he got close to the ground, getting ready to pounce once he could see her through the tall plants. Leaping brilliantly through the air, he almost had her except she turned, pinning him down instead. Why did she always win?
“Haha, thought you had me, hm?”
“Think again. You didn't think I spent that whole moon hollowing out my head, did you?” He wiggled around, slipping through her grip and ended up pinning her stomach-down. It was a strategy he developed while plotting different ways of getting Barkspots back from mothering him too much. It didn't require leg strength, which was a plus for him.
Irispool just surrendered, picking herself up and licking her paws, impressed.
“Not bad,” she admitted, a mischievous and amused expression washing over her features. “Next time, though, we'll work on being quiet while stalking prey. Your weight may be good for battle but for hunting, it'll be a big disadvantage.”

…

This continued for a while, until he genuinely grew to like her. He thought she might like him too, because the tables had turned until he was teasing her. On the day of his warrior ceremony, she basically tackled him to the ground, just like they had done when they were kits.
“Congratulations. I would've liked to call you Acornpaw forever, but Acornpelt really suits you. I wish it were Dirtpelt though,” she joked.
“That's such an old joke,” he mewed, embarrassed that they still called each other that. He still enjoyed the fact that it was one thing that had stayed the same between them, though. Suddenly, Barkspots raced up to Irispool. Muttering quietly in her ear, Irispool's expression changed to a concerned look. “That bad?” was all that left her mouth.
Acornpelt was confused. He decided to ask her when they were alone on a patrol together. That's why he really didn't expect it when she turned down his offer to hunt.
“I've got other things to do, you have to realize,” she told him.
He was getting annoyed at her. He wanted to say he had other things too, because they had spent so much time together that it was so stuck up of her to say that. Too bad he really didn't have time for anything else.
“Whatever, there will be more fresh-kill for me to hunt,” he muttered, not looking back at the camp once he had tore down the path and through the entrance. He stopped when he reached the clearing that they always hung around in. It was right in the heart of ThunderClan's territory, a place that was nicely shaded and was surrounded by fresh-kill. He didn't have the heart to hunt, though. So, he simply sat on a tree stump and began cleaning himself. He began to think, real hard; something he hadn't really tried before.
Okay, I'm obviously too attached to her, he thought. I think I might - He shook his head. Too creepy. Well, I can easily fix that. I'll just turn down some of her patrols, and then we'll be even. Feeling significantly better, he walked back to camp, even catching a thrush or two on the way.
When he got back to camp, though, he couldn't find Irispool. Instead, he found Honeyrose, who wouldn't stop congratulating him and cleaning him. Why didn't she do this to Mosswhisker or Echoglow?
“Did you hear?” Honeyrose exclaimed excitedly as she began to clean her own fur. “Echoglow became mates with Duskfeather! Mosswhisker's so happy. He just delivered the news to me.”
Acornpelt sighed. That was great, he guessed, but he couldn't help feeling ashamed of himself that he had no other close friends besides his mother and Irispool. Ravenwing was not nice to him at all. Plus, being mates with her would just be nasty, in his eyes.
“That's wonderful, but I have fresh-kill to add to the pile,” he mewed before rushing off. Where was Irispool? He checked the elders' den, the warriors' den, the apprentices' den and even the nursery. Giving up, he went to the medicine den. He had purposely avoided that place because old Barkspots was still there. He couldn't get inside, though, because said cat was there, telling him not to enter.
“I've got a contagious patient,” he explained. “Stay out for now.”
“Is it Irispool?” he mewed, his worried tone betraying him.
Barkspots was amused. “Are you looking for her? Are you scared for her safety?”
Acornpelt scoffed. “Whatever. Do what you wish.” He left.
Barkspots chuckled. “I knew that would get him.”

…

Over the next few days, Acornpelt went hunting alone, only seeing Irispool in the warriors' den when he was too tired to say anything to her. At least she's not sick, he thought. His heart was aching and he didn't know why. Maybe it was him who needed medical attention. Irispool still kept her distance though.
One night, he got the courage to talk to her.
“Why are you avoiding me?” he mewed.
“I'm not avoiding you,” she said sincerely.
That really confused him. Then what was she doing?
“What are you doing then?”
“I'm caring for my mother. She's got greencough. She's always been very weak, so I want to make sure I can spend a lot of time with her in case she...”
“In case she dies.” He was not in the mood to take it slow. “Okay, that's fine. I'll stop pestering you and you can stick around her. Be careful, though, don't catch the greencough.”
Now Irispool looked confused and hurt. “Well, okay, but... do you wanna go hunting tomorrow? I think she's gotten better.”
Acornpelt remembered his plan to refuse her once in a while. Deciding he should do it so he didn't seem clingy, he simply replied, “Nah, just stay with Maplenose. She might die, right? Yeah, so spend lots of time with her.”
With that, he went to sleep. He was mentally and physically exhausted. The distance between them was tearing him apart on the inside. The next time she wants to go though, I'll go, he decided. But she didn't ask him the next day, or the day after that or even after that. Finally, he gave up on waiting outside the medicine den every day.
On one of his thinking sessions at their clearing, he thought about why he missed her. Well, Acornpelt knew he missed her mischievous smile, her soft her and her teasing. That's what he knew. But he was so grouchy with everyone else that it was unnatural to be so nice to her. Why am I treating her so differently? he thought. Echoglow looks so happy even when she's without Mosswhisker, because she still has Duskfeather, so why -
It hit him. Pretty hard, actually. His sister had a mate. That's why she was happy. He wasn't happy because he wanted a mate. It was so simple. He wanted Irispool as a mate. He loved her. Filled with adrenaline at this realization, he raced back to camp. He stopped at the entrance to the medicine den, calling for her at the entrance. She came outside.
“I thought you wanted me to stay with my mother. Are you the one who's dying?” she teased. Ah, the familiar music to his ears. She must have noticed his sides heaving.
“Can you come with me?” he panted.
She followed him as far as the warriors' den.
“What do you want?” she mewed simply.
“I – I didn't know what it was, but I – Well, whatever, I'll just say it. I like you, more than I ever have. In a different way than I ever have. I'm not going to say it any other way, so... yeah, I – I love you.”
He felt so embarrassed, excited and hyper. Acornpelt was never one to wait, so he raced out of the den and back to the clearing, scared a d anxious of her reaction. He wanted to know how she felt though. When he finally came back, there was news that she decided to sleep with her mother tonight, because the greencough had gotten worse. I'll let her take her time, he thought.
But when she didn't speak to him for three days, he got impatient and asked to speak to her privately again. This time, it was Irispool who led him all the way to their clearing.
“Hey, why the rush? Is the greencough getting that bad?” he mewed coolly.
“Acornpelt... As much as I love being with you, I don't have time for this right now,” was her response.
He froze. Again, she surprised him. Was it him who was taking things for granted now? How come things only went wrong when he did them?
“Well, okay. Yeah, that's fine. You should get back to your mother, though.”
She nodded, thinking he had understood. They walked back to camp.

…

They didn't talk for a few days, because in those few days, Maplenose had died. Irispool was so sad that she continued to ignore Acornpelt. He felt tense and on edge everyday. She had said she loved being with him. That meant she loved him, right?
Finally, he got up the courage and spoke to her.
“Hey, Irispool, do you want to go hunting?” She was free now, so they could go together, couldn't they?
“Acornpelt, I don't know, I'm not sure if I could handle going back to wear she was buried.”
Of course. Maplenose had to be buried in their special clearing.
“Well, we haven't hung out for a long time...”
“Acornpelt, I thought you would understand. We can't hang out so much, you know?” she snapped.
This switched something inside of him. “Well, fine. You do what you want.”
“Yeah, that's what I've been doing.”
“You're sure taking your sweet time.”
“I thought you would understand.”
“Isn't it obvious? I don't! I don't understand why you're avoiding me.”
“I don't understand why you - “
“I hate you.”
The words slipped out of him on impulse. That really hurt her.
“Why would you do this to me?” he whispered.
“Well, I won't be doing it to you much longer,” she said, her voice soft but ragged with pain.
He didn't know what that meant. She wasn't going to die, but she wasn't going to run after him either.

…

The next morning, Poppystar announced that Irispool would be moving to RiverClan.
“It has been done according to her wishes. She will join her father as a warrior of RiverClan. Let us wish her a safe and happy journey to RiverClan. She has served this Clan well.”
Everybody exchanged goodbyes and touched noses and all that affectionate mouse dung that Acornpelt couldn't care for. He didn't say anything to her. He never did again.

A story of love doesn't always have a happy ending. A life with love is an acorn; hard on the outside; but if you try to break the shell, you'll only break yourself. But if you use the right method, you will be rewarded with something not many obtain; the sweetness inside.

In LightClan, beauty is key. You can be the greatest fighter, but if someone is more beautiful than you, they will assume a higher position. Ever since my birth, I've always felt so mediocre. My fur is a dusty, dark grey and my eyes are a hue similar to that of a dying dandelion's. Some kind of dark yellow. As a kit, I used to tell myself that I had gold eyes, which meant I was the most beautiful of them all. However, the truth is bitter. They will always resemble something unpleasant.
During my apprentice ceremony, I became Pebblepaw. Sunstar had mentioned how I was too ordinary to be at the next Gathering, which almost brought me to tears. LightClan had a reputation of having flawless cats, so of course only the most attractive were allowed to attend to represent us. Moltenfur, the deputy, had sympathized with me after the ceremony and gave me a reassuring talk.
Of course it wasn't any help at all. He is probably the most flawless tom in the forest (which is why he is deputy), so I knew it was either out of pity or the desire to have a perfect image. Nonetheless, I still felt shy and clumsy in his presence.
My mentor was Larkflight, one of the only cats who tolerated average-ness well. She was a natural beauty herself, with smooth black fur and warm amber eyes. She attended Gatherings almost every month. I somehow felt rejuvenated during our lessons, as if being near her would make me attractive as well. I learned how to track prey, hunt, fight, and on special occasions, fish. We had some fun times together, apart from the one incident when I became entombed in the mud bordering the river. We both returned to camp soaking and dirty. Naturally, that got us shunned for at least two nights.
A moon before my warrior ceremony, there was a rumour that a dispute had broken out between LightClan and WaterClan that the river was theirs and we had no rights to hunt in the area. We countered that it was a shared border, but it was not enough to satisfy them. They had a reputation for being clever and cunning; nice at first glance, but if you turned around, you'd find claws in your back. Larkflight was ordered to really focus on fighting techniques. I learned how to climb up trees and attack by throwing myself downwards. I saw no use in this particular skill, as the enemy could hear me scampering up the trunk and could easily dodge, leaving me splat on the ground. Even so, she taught me the “skills of our ancestors”, a bunch of useless versions of clawing another cat's face so their complexion would be ruined.
I never expected a war. It happened a few nights before I was to be a warrior. I recited potential names in my head continuously: Pebblefur, Pebblefoot, Pebbleflower, Pebblesky....
I was out hunting with Larkflight after she decided I was too full of bitterness to pump any more knowledge into. I was at a popular spot not far from the river, where a tree hollow stump became home to many small critters. It was the middle of the day, a perfect time to hunt because the animals would be hot and scurrying about, trying to find new shade. I was about to pounce on a vole when a WaterClan warrior burst from the trees and clawed blindly. I shrieked/yowled, and I could hear Larkflight scurry as a rustle of leaves signalled the arrival of more cats.
Those clever rats. This time of day was the most unexpected. It was when everybody was doing leisurely activities such as sunning themselves or visiting the small pools new-leaf brought to admire themselves and gossip. My face stung, and as I cowered the WaterClan cat scuttled along to join the others. I was frightened. A strange instinct took over me and I hurried to the tree stump where I huddled. Was this how prey felt like? I heard another rush as more cats broke through the trees. They were coming in small parties to overwhelm us! I mustered up my courage and raced back to camp, following the WaterClan warriors.
"Save your energy, more are coming!" I yowled in the midst of the crisis. Some cats turned to me, before cringing and deciding whether or not to trust my judgement.
***
We lost. In the end, Sunstar gave the river to them. Our pride had been wounded, since Sunstar herself had received a cut to the ear and went into hiding. I went to the medicine den because my face still hurt. Swallowmist was probably the most kind of the cats. She herself was quite average, with uneven shoulders and a round, chubby face. She had chosen to give up having a mate (the "most exciting thing in our lives" in this Clan), which made up for her "deformalities".
She gasped when she saw me, and quickly told me to shut my eyes. She tended to my cuts thoroughly until they stung of cleanliness instead of rawness. My friends Rainpaw and Featherpaw came to visit me. They told me our warrior ceremonies would be held tonight, if I was fit enough to go. They avoided my gaze and didn't smile at me. After sharing some gossip about how Moltenfur winked at both of them the day before, they left. Moltenfur was still single, yes. I was still in love, yes. When Swallowtail declared me "on the verge of healing", I was allowed to go. Though I wish I hadn't been granted permission at all.
***
"Rainheart! Rainheart! Feathernose! Feathernose!"
I was happy for both of them. They smiled smugly at me, but I was accustomed to this sort of LightClan behaviour, so I just kept chanting. Sunstar's words were a blur. I only remember saying "I do" before I hear my warrior name.
"You shall now be known as Tornface."
A claw ripped open my heart. What...?
The Clan was silent, the chanting fading away along with my happiness. Everyone began to leave slowly, congratulating my friends politely along the way. In a rage, I ran away. I ran to the nearest pool of water, where I checked my reflection. My ears were both half-torn, as if rats came to nibble on them in the night. I had a long scar across my entire face, from my left eye to the corner of my mouth. A series of small scratches created a pattern over the rest of my features, including a jagged line between my eyes. I cried for a long time, my tears melting into the pool before me.
Suddenly, it began to glow.
A thin, silvery mist appeared from the water, becoming a slender she-cat. She had no face and no colour.
"Would you like me to grant you what you desire?" she purred in a motherly but teasing tone. Her voice was an oily sweet, like how I imagined an adder would talk.
"Um.. What do I desire?"
She laughed at this, a musical sound. "Beauty beyond compare, of course! Love and admiration from your fellow Clanmates."
My judgement began to identify her words as a shallow attempt at persuading me. But I knew this was the truth.
"But... I can't be like that. How could you...?"
"I can grant you a wish... at a price."
"And that would be?"
***
I groan. The ground is so chilly for late new-leaf. Opening my eyes, I scan the sights around me. A forest? I should be... Where should I be?
All I notice is my thirst. Leaning over to take a drink from the pool next to me, I catch my reflection. Stunning.
Is my fur really that silver shade? It is shimmering in the faint daylight dawn brought. I laugh, and I hear the charming, bubbly sound of a stream as it gurgles along. I turn my head. My whiskers are long and thin, surrounding a slender face with blue eyes that are almost purple. Looking down at my paws, I see an elegant figure with long legs and round paws. Wow, I am quite beautiful.
The sun begins to rise over the trees, and I know I should find shelter or another cat. Padding slowly through the trees, I hear a soft patter of pawsteps before a ginger tom collides with me, pinning me down.
"What- Ah!" I sound like a tragic heroine.
"What are you doing on LightClan territory?" he growls.
"LightClan...?" The name is familiar on my tongue.
He pauses, stepping off of me. His eyes sparkle when his gaze meets mine, and he seems calmer. I feel my heart ache slightly. He was quite handsome when gentle.
"Come to our Clan," he mews warmly. "You look like one of us. Your scent is... familiar."
He frowns as if realizing his last statement was a terrible truth.
"Anyways, I'm Moltenfur."
***
A beautiful she-cat greets me kindly when she sees me with Moltenfur.
"Welcome," she meows. Her voice is sweet but I couldn't help but notice the nicks in her left ear. "I am Sunstar, leader of this prosperous Clan. What is your name?"
"My apologies!" Moltenfur spoke suddenly, though his voice does not sound genuine. "I forgot to ask when I was introducing myself. I hope you don't mind."
My name? What is my name? Something familiar is tugging at my mind, but I can't quite decipher what it is.
"Um... Pe-Pe...," I begin, but my head hurts too much to continue.
"Petal?" Sunstar offers. "Such a beautiful name for a beautiful cat."
Is it Petal? It sounds close. I nod yes, and Sunstar beams before leaping to a tall boulder and yowling. Cats shuffle out from every corner, many drowsy.
"We have a newcomer," Sunstar begins in a tone that demands respect. "Please welcome Petal. She will be part of LightClan starting today!"
Cats yowl my name, each one looking either happy or mildly envious. Most of them were pretty, too, except for one with a chubby face and uneven shoulders. I somehow felt... above her.
"We need a proper name for our new Clanmate," Sunstar continued. "Suggestions?"
Moltenfur's voice rose above the rest. "Petalnose!"
"Petalnose!" the Clan chants. I like the sound of it. I touch noses with Sunstar, who murmurs, "It suits your overly pink nose." I frown slightly, but I feel pity rather than anger. Not all are blessed with the gift of beauty.
***
Moltenfur greets me in the morning.
"Wake up, sweet, we're going on a hunting patrol."
Some feeling begins to bloom within me. "Okay."
We go with another she-cat called Larkflight, who is ravishing, but nothing more. She hunts well and as I watch her, I find myself familiar with the same techniques. Eager to prove myself, I climb a tree and pounce on a bird.
"Impressive," Moltenfur chuckles, and I feel as though the forest has closed in on just us two. Some sort of confidence erupts in me and I lick his muzzle before running off, the bubbly sound of my laughter eluding him further into the forest.
***
The hunting party was a thrill. I feel refreshed and even start a conversation with Larkflight along the way.
"So, tell me about yourself," I start. I know that many of the things I say are clumsy and vague, but that didn't matter.
"Well, I was born and raised in this Clan. My family is here, my life is here. I became a warrior a few moons ago and I've mentored once before, though it was an incomplete job. Sunstar says-"
"An apprentice?" I realize I sound too impressed.
"Yes, Pebblepaw. Though she became disfigured and left."
"Hm. Such a tragic story."
Something tugs at me and I feel entranced to know more.
"What was she like?"
"Well, clumsy of course, because she had huge paws and short legs. Those short whiskers could never sense anything, but her hearing was excellent. It was a shame her ears became torn during the battle. Very pessimistic. I would be, too, if I were her. Sunstar changed her warrior name to Tornface."
Moltenfur slowed down to let us catch up. "Tornface?? That runt?" he nearly howled.
"Was she that bad?" Some part of me feels sympathy.
"She wouldn't stop stealing glances at me! As if I didn't notice. I didn't want her looking at me," he continued, snorting a few times.
"Well, who wouldn't want to look at a face like yours?" I change the subject, hoping to ignore his bad attitude and pretend it was just this one cat he picked on.
***
Moltenfur asked me to become his mate a moon later. I accepted, and we are never too far apart nowadays. I have much information on this Tornface, who I find fascinating. The life of the unfortunate amuses me. I clean my paws after finishing my vole and stop to share tongues with two warriors my age.
"Rainheart and Feathernose, am I correct?" I mew, smiling politely.
Rainheart glares at me and scans me up and down before whispering to Feathernose.
Feathernose's eyes are softer, and she speaks in a friendlier manner.
"Yes, Petalnose. What is it that you need, now that you have Moltenfur?"
Envy was common. I grew to enjoy it. I chuckle, and try to keep the peace. After all, I wouldn't want to look like a bad cat.
"I just came to gossip with you two. You seem like great company. So what do you know about Pe - Tornface?"
"Oh, she was such a downer," Rainheart snorted, warming up. "Feathernose and I hung out with her a lot. Her face was mediocre, even before the battle."
I understand what she implies. Hanging out with lower-classes elevates yourself.
"Ah. When exactly did she run away? Did she even realize she was deformed?"
"Not until Sunstar told her," Feathernose mews softly. "She spent a day or two like that in camp! She disappeared the day before you arrived."
I find that so coincidental. A beautiful cat replaces a broken one. Suddenly, though, my head begins to throb and I cringe. Rainheart just continunes to clean herself, but Feathernose at least mews,"Go see Swallowtail."
***
The chubby face is back. It looms over me, its round features furrowed in various places. "Are you in pain?" a delicate voice asks, and I see the mouth of the face move.
"Yes," I croak, though I sound more like a fallen StarClan cat than an elder.
Swallowtail shuffles away, head low. She must have noticed my staring.
"Tornface was also under your care, yes?" I begin.
I see her blobby silhouette nod in the faint sunlight of the den.
"She was a kind cat. First who didn't stare," came a nonchalant reply.
I frown. That's kindness? It seems more like what Moltenfur said, how he didn't like ugly cats staring at him and he didn't look at them.
"Petalnose, does Pebblepaw sound familiar to you?"
Such an unexpected question! I look away.
"Hm.... quite, yes."
"Do you feel sympathy for her?"
"Why, of course! Such a curse to be disfigured."
I feel as though it is more than that though. A vision of Rainheart - no, Rainpaw - flashes through my mind. She was standing at the entrance of the den, but when I blink, she is not there. Another silhouette is with her. Featherpaw. I hear Moltenfur off their tongues. I hear them laugh, a snort exactly like the one Rainheart performed earlier. I look down at my paws to stop the vision, but these paws do not belong to me. They are large, connected to short legs. My fur is a dusty, dark grey, not a huge contrast from the dark brown earth below. I look for Swallowtail, alarmed.
All I see, though, is a slender silhouette, a silvery mist. This time she has a face. It is chubby, with matching round features.
"You have regained your memory, Tornface," she mews, emotionless. "Since you have taken back what you gave to me, I have taken back what I gave to you."

Long ago, our Clans existed: ShadowClan, RiverClan, WindClan and ThunderClan. When Twolegs began to move into the territory, they decided that uniting as one Clan would be the best way to keep peace between them. Food levels were low, and territory was shrinking every day. They called their new Clan Terra, or Earth, as a symbol of New Life. The four leaders led the Clan, each watching over a section of it. Feeling the need to go back to simpler ways in dark times, they renamed themselves after their Clans.
River took care of the food and water supplies in the Clan. Shadow reinforced protection from outside forces. Wind was in charge of the territory, camp and all. Thunder controlled the working cats.
Unfortunately, Terra was going down the wrong path. The leaders began to assemble a hierarchy: Guardians, Hunters, Builders, and Collectors. The Guardians would help Shadow fight off Twoleg attacks or enemy animals. Hunters supplied much of the food. Builders were under Wind's control, acting as the manual labour for many of his projects. Collectors were the lowest rank; slaves. They worked all day underground to dig up new materials for the Builders to use. Collectors lived underground their whole lives, never coming up and eating whatever they found down there, such as moles.
Your rank depends on your parents. Inter-class mating was not tolerated, and if the two cats were caught, they'd be exiled; the worst punishment imaginable, because no one ever heard what happened after they left. The outside world of Twolegs was filthy, contaminated by greed and violence, the leaders said. It is better to stay here, and work for the good of our species.
"Work" was mostly constructing the Servi wall, a fortress of stones that would border the entire camp, with hidden underground entrances only the Leaders, Guardians and Hunters knew. The Builders worked hard through the hot sun to build it, many of them falling to their death while building the massive wall. Collectors dug for stones and mud to build. If they were lucky, they would hit an underwater spring and River would be overjoyed, earning them a promotion to Builder.
***
"Shrub, I found another worm!"
The small apprentice turned his head at the familiar voice. Worms were exciting creatures, even though he saw them everyday. He felt as though he needed something that was not the mindless digging he did everyday to anchor him to his sanity. "Cool, how big, Myrtle?"
A petite, dark ginger tabby padded toward him, pawing the wriggling things.
"These aren't as big as yesterday's," she whispered, sighing. "They recently sealed off the last possible entrance to the Surface. I can't put these in Thunder's den anymore."
Shrub frowned. The last entrance? How, if they could still transport the materials upwards?
"The Surface," he breathed, lowering his gaze to the mushy ground. He always dreamed about what it looked like, with its bright sunlight and brilliant colours. Down here, he only knew of one shade: brown. He knew Myrtle was ginger, though, because even in the dark, he could see her fur more clearly than the others'. He wished there was light so he could see her face.
"Stop dreaming, get back to work," Myrtle whispered to him.
"They never check on us anyway," Shrub snapped back.
"This is all we'll ever do for the rest of our lives. We might as well not complain, it won't make anything better."
Shrub scowled, although he knew no one could see it. Visibility was so poor, he could only see the dirt beneath his paws. He shrugged the bad feeling off, though. He was lucky Myrtle was his friend. He was considered an outcast, with his mother being a Guardian and his father a Builder. They were both exiled, leaving him to the care of the leaders, who obviously put him in the Collectors class.
Shrub had been a collector for at least six moons now, and he longed for the nursery. Even the stench of old, reused bedding and the sounds of wailing kits was better than the never-ending silence that complimented the nothingness in this section.
"Alright, we're going to eat," came the routine call after ages of digging for nothing.
Spearmint, a senior Collector, was in charge of this particular group of younglings. She was a tough one, and old, too. One of the only cats left who had ever been part of the Clans before Terra. Even the leaders had each been replaced at least once. Shrub lined up with the others. He was last, of course, since he was the runt.
"Let me see your piles," Spear (as she demanded to be called) continued sharply, padding amongst them. "Myrtle! You have not reached your quota. You will receive a frog for this meal."
Myrtle shrank back. A smaller cat, she could never dig up as much as the others. Shrub didn't say anything though. This happened every day.
"Alright then everybody, let's recite the 3 Principles of Good Workmanship," Spear ordered.
Everyone began: "Every cat must obey orders because it keeps us organized. Every cat must treat others with respect, so the leaders won't get mad. Every cat must work to earn their share, so we are equal."
With that, Spear left and Shrub hurried to Myrtle. His mole was particularly fat today, so he set it down next to her and whispered, "Come on, let's share."
He did this everyday, too, but she would always reply, "No, Shrub. You earned it, you eat it."
At first he had refused and argued with her, but in the end she wouldn't accept it, so he just sank his teeth into the tough, tasteless meat and ate quietly while she gulped the frog down hungrily. After a while, Spear would return and order them back to work. Shrub would always try to push some of his pile into Myrtle's so she would get a nice dinner, but she was too far away.
At least the escape of sleep was granted at the end of the day. Everyone was sore and their claws were blunt. Without a sound, the small cats curled up in their nests of dirt and dried leaves. Shrub couldn't fall asleep. He didn't know when to, since his night and his day looked exactly the same to him. To solve this, he listened for Myrtle's gentle snoring before he fell into a deep sleep.
***
At night, he always thought about things. He was labelled as dumb and hopeless by everyone else, mostly because he was very slow at thinking. But sometimes, the slowest thinkers are the ones who think the most.
Why did things have to be like this? Why did it have to change from whatever it was before? How come the leaders had dens made of moss and down, while they slept on what they dug up at the end of the day? Equality is the key to a perfect society, Thunder would start to chant on one of his rare visits. To work is to earn, that is what you younglings must learn.
In the morning, the same routine would repeat. Myrtle found only one worm today, and she reburied it after showing it off to Shrub. Then it was back to digging. At mealtime, Myrtle ate a frog and refused his mole. Then it was back to digging. He would try to push some of his pile into Myrtle's so she would get a nice dinner, but she was too far away.
Thunder visited once. He told a story about a cat who disobeyed orders and was chased out for disrupting the equality.
"And what happened to him?" he would ask.
"He was exiled and died," everyone would say.
Shrub thought slowly about this. He died? Every cat had to die. They disappeared and never came back.
"How did he die?" Shrub peeped out quietly, the first addition to their regular story time.
Thunder went bugged eyed, before a loud bellow that was his laughter followed.
"How? This brat asks how! Why would you need to know how? He died, fool!"
The entire group of apprentices burst into giggles. "Fool! Fool!"
Myrtle scurried to him and buried her head in his shoulder, obviously frightened. He couldn't protect her, though. He only shrank back as Thunder retreated, probably for another 3 moons or so.
***
"Alright, you can start eating."
"Wait, Spear!"
Shrub scurried past his peers, accidentally kicking dirt on somebody's mole as he tried to catch the elder.
"What is it?" she sounded annoyed, but it only to conceal her surprised expression in the darkness.
"How do cats die?" Shrub asked.
Normally, he would expect her to either respond with a dark comment or insult. Instead, he saw her faint silhouette sigh softly as she whispered, "Come with me."
He followed her through a tunnel to a slightly larger, less crowded space. Dried leaves littered the area. This was her den.
"I was hoping a cat like you would show up soon," she whispered quickly. "Someone who knows how to think in this rotten place. You're all brainwashed from birth."
He was surprised. Lowering his head, he only replied,"But I'm dumb."
"No, you're not," she cooed. "You are different from the others. Out of place. You belong on the Surface, where brains like yours could come in handy."
His breathing quickened. The Surface? Would he get a chance to get there? He still wanted his question answered, though. The curiosity of a young one is always clouding their mind.
"Spear, how do cats die?" he mewed again.
"They simply lose their life, their meaning, their purpose to live," she explained. "You can lose it to an illness, it can be stripped from you by force, it can fade slowly without the right care. Or, you can choose to take it from yourself."
Shrub froze. He quickly changed the subject. "So you've seen the Surface?"
Spear's eyes glittered. "Yes, and it's magical. Well, it was before Twolegs corrupted it."
"Do you think I could ever get there?"
A bitter chuckle was the only response. "Child, there is no hope for us. In a place as dark as this, there is no light to show us the way."
***
Upon his return, his peers asked what he was doing with Spear. He told them what she'd said to tell them: that he'd been punished for thinking such corrupted thoughts. Smirking, they kicked dirt in his face and rushed off. Myrtle quickly ran to him.
"Are you hurt?" she asked, alarmed.
"I wasn't telling the truth," Shrub mewed.
"But for thinking that way - "
"Spear told me about the Surface," he whispered, trying to ignore the fact that Myrtle was also a brainwashed cat. "She says it's no longer beautiful."
Myrtle's shoulders sank visibly, even in the darkness. The night continued this way, with Shrub doubting his faith in her, and Myrtle losing her faith in her dreams.
***
Moons passed. Shrub was now a grown cat. He wasn't very large, but at least he wasn't small, either. He could defend Myrtle properly now. Occasionally, he would chat with Spear, who kept him wondering about how he could change things. His peers used to be considered average for apprentices, but as warriors, they were as dumb as the dirt they dug up. With no education and a boring background, they were even more mindless than before.
Myrtle was no different. She stopped digging for worms and focused on reaching her quota. She would only talk to him at night, if she wasn't too tired after trying so hard to keep up with the others.
Over the many, many moons, Shrub had analyzed everything. He was formulating a plan to overthrow the leaders, to which Spear was very enthusiastic about. She was really old now, not moving from her den. One day when he was going to visit her, he heard Thunder's voice.
"You mangy old cat," the familiar, gruff voice growled. "We let you live for so long, even though you were absolutely useless. These apprentices are warriors now so we don't need you anymore. You can hardly move."
A dry chuckle came from Spear's throat. "Are you planning to kill me?"
"You will be taken away."
"I have lived the life I desired. I have no regrets."
Suddenly, another voice, a new one, joined in. This one was soft, smooth but sharp. River? She only came down once before.
"Well, mother, you certainly have done nothing. I don't see anything you've done that you shouldn't regret."
"Silence, Ripplemist."
A series of growls followed, and then a shuffle of various paws. He could faintly hear River's voice growl, "Mintdapple. Finally, the last of the Old Age cats are dead."
"The Servi wall is almost complete, too," Thunder meowed. "Soon, there will be close to no way in or out of Terra."
Shrub had had it. He raced after the leaders, claws unsheathed, and scratched blindly. He felt something tear under his grip and warm blood.
"Fool!" A chorus of voices yelled.
They all pounced on him and tried to kill him. Suddenly, in a rush, all of the cats who teased him for ages poured out of the tunnel. They all fought and eventually, River and Thunder were severely wounded, but so was Shrub.
Reinforcements gathered in the crowded tunnel and pushed the warriors back. Shrub was gasping, bleeding from various wounds, and the last thing he could hear was Myrtle's voice, crying, "Shrub! We will reach the Surface, for you!" before he fell limp.
***
A faint light poured from above. Shrub felt weightless, and he squinted from the unfamiliar sight. The darkness he'd known his entire life suddenly faded away. He half ran, half floated upwards. Seeing the edge of the tunnel at last, he stepped out to the Surface. There was no Servi wall, no Guardians, no nothing; only splashes of colours that always changed. There was soft grass under his paws, although he didn't know what it was. He rolled around in it, reminiscing the new fresh scent.
He was aware of a presence next to him. Looking up, he saw a pretty young she-cat with light brown fur and brilliant green eyes.
"I'm Mintdapple! What's your name?" she purred happily.
"I'm Shrub," he blurted. His head was fuzzy.
"Do you want to go for a swim?"
Dazed, he asked, "Where am I?"
She giggled. "We're on the Surface, silly!"
Shrub smiled, and walked with her through the forests of StarClan.
***
Shrub's actions didn't go unheard, although the movement went silent for a long time.
Myrtle became leader of the resistance of Collectors. Slowly but silently, they would get their revenge.

There's a tale that elders often tell kits during their frequent visits. One kit, usually a very intelligent but neglected soul, would ask, "How was this world made?"
Another kit, usually the leader of their little group, would say, "It just came here!"
Curious, the others would begin to pipe up to. "But how did it get here? Who brought it?"
Chuckling, the elder they were entertaining (or is it the other way around?) would tempt them into a long and lecturing story time. "Would you like to know?"
The kits would immediately say,"Yes! Tell us!" and once in a while, there would be one shy kit who would add,"If you want to."
And so, story time commences.
~~
There were once two cats; littermates, but completely opposite from the other. Their names were Sol and Luna (of course, the kits wouldn't understand the meanings of their names, making the elder chuckle again). Sol had a pelt of golden light, creating illusions of waving fields of grain or a river at sunset. Luna, on the other hand, was a midnight blue colour, with sparkling eyes made of starlight. Both were happy with their own shares of the world, then a blank slate (at this a kit would interrupt with,"Wassat mean?" and the elder would scold them with a friendly glare and continue).
"Sol," Luna mewed to her brother one day. "Aren't you lonely with just us two?"
Sol would reply, "No. We can run and play all day, just the two of us, and we'll never grow old as long as the sun doesn't set."
Luna, who hated having to agree with whatever he said, simply cast a small glare his way before retreating. "But I'm tired of it. If the sun never sets, no one can see the stars."
Sol just laughed, meowing taunting words at his sister like he always did. "Then why don't you find someone else?"
Obviously, there was no one else. These words tugged at Luna's heartstrings, reminding her that she was stuck with this nincompoop of a brother for eternity. Of course, time always healed her wounds. She forgave Sol the next time she saw him, although that didn't change much. She now took his words as challenge more than a taunt.
What if there was someone else?
~~
"Sol, what if there was someone else?"
"Luna, you can't still be thinking about that?"
"Answer my question!"
"Then it'd be terrible. You wouldn't try to find me when we play hide and seek anymore because you can just give up and talk to them. You wouldn't need me to catch you fish when you're sick anymore. You wouldn't need me."
Luna thought about this, turning away so her annoying brother wouldn't see the dangerous twinkle in her eye. "But I don't need you, do I?
And with that, her midnight pelt melted away into the eternal light, casting waves of darkness over the pastel sky that Sol had always known. He shuddered, overcome by a new emotion. All he had ever felt was happiness; the warmth upon his fur, the satisfaction of a plump squirrel. Now he felt something new. He didn't know it, but it was fear; fear of bring alone in the dark.
~~
The darkness didn't disappear after Sol went to sleep. When he woke up, the sights around him were still cloaked in the same wavering shadows he saw before he slept. Where was his sister? He hadn't seen her in a while, though time was nonexistent in his world ("So he'd never age like you?" a cute but rude kit would say, and the elder would sigh heavily and cuff the kit's ear weakly before moving on).
Meanwhile, Luna was in the forest, a place where darkness always finds a home; because even in the light, the forest will only cast shadows. She was mad with the idea that she could create a new "someone". She could replace her stupid brother; put all the qualities she ever wanted in a friend, into her puppet. Being very careful, she extracted threads of darkness, black strings (STRING THEORY, if you get my reference), and began weaving them together to form the impetus of taint.
My friend will have to be handsome, she thought, tweaking his facial features so that his mouth pointed up, his nose was small, and his eyes large and gentle.
He must be a great runner, so I can actually have fun playing tag, she added, giving him long legs and large muscles.
He will be stealthy, so he can catch lots of prey and find the best hiding places, she chuckled to herself, lengthening his sharp claws and making his figure lean and lithe.
Finally, a new cat was born. He was black, just pure black, with eyes of coal and a friendly smile on his face.
"Come, play with me," she meowed.
He didn't move; only cocked his head to the side.
"Come play tag with me," she corrected. What a dumb mistake, she thought.
The black cat still stood there, looking more confused if anything.
"Fine I'll be it," she added.
He didn't respond, his coal eyes still unable to show emotion.
"Uhm, you can start," she tried. This time, he sprinted off faster than a rabbit. Wow, he was fast! "I'm coming now! I'm not waiting!"
She chased him endless over the moors her brother created, the golden weave now grey and shivering, the stalks bending slightly. She was having so much fun, since being the slower one gave the game more of an edge. Unfortunately, since she was not used to long distances, she gave up, panting. "Okay, I'm taking a break."
Her cat friend didn't stop running though, even when he turned around to see her lying down, exhausted.
"STOP!" she finally yelled, once she had enough breath. Immediately, the cat stopped and sat down in the field. "Uh, come here?"
He jogged slowly to her. "Faster!" He sprinted so fast, she felt a rush of wind when it stopped in front of her. She just laughed it off.
"You need a name. How about Midnight, since you're the colour of the sky?"
No response. Same expressionless gaze.
"Okay, you don't like that. Um.... Coal, then? OH how about Eclipse? I like that."
He didn't say anything. She kind of liked that. She decided things around here.
"Fine, you're Eclipse now. Can I call you Dirtface?"
(A chorus of laughter exploded from the easily amused kits). Sol had thought the name was hilarious when she first said it to him. Eclipse merely stared, unable to understand what a joke was. Luna just shrugged, thinking he had his own sense of humour.
"Okay, you can rest now, because I'm tired," she meowed to him. Eclipse lay down, tucked his tail around his face, and closed his eyes. Today was fun, she thought. What if there were more friends?
~~
After resting, Luna created another friend, this one a female. She made sure her new cat was perfect; she was ridiculously beautiful, with an elegant figure and charming features. She made sure this cat was intelligent and good humoured, so she could laugh at her jokes. This cat was also a jet black colour, with bottomless pits as eyes.
After playing many games with her two new friends, Luna decided more would be even better. She created them, a dozen or more black cats as her playmates. She almost forgot about Sol, until he sought her out one day.
"Luna, what have you done?" he asked desperately.
"I found someone else," she mewed triumphantly.
"No, you made them," he whined, pleading. She mistook this for jealousy. "Nothing good can come of it."
"But I have friends to play with now."
"No. One day, they'll argue with you like we did. They'll have greed, jealousy, anger, bitterness, sorrow. You can't just exist without these qualities."
"But I made them to be perfect. They can't do that."
"Never make something perfect, Luna. Have you ever noticed that nothing is perfect? You throw off the balance if you do that."
Ignoring him, Luna played her old trick again, dissipating into the shadows, leaving Sol standing there. "She did it all wrong," he muttered. "And it's all my fault."
He vowed to make a cat himself, too, to show her how it was done.
And so, he summoned the last of the light in the new, dark world: fireflies. They became cats, but each had something special: one was short, one was tall, some of them were more intelligent than others, some could hunt better than others. He filled their minds with something his sister had left out: motivation. Each one had a different goal: to become a better warrior, to have a family, to overcome their fear of swimming. That was something else he reluctantly added: fear of something. Now, these were real friends.
~~
Sol went back to Luna, bringing along his new group of friends. They stood out a lot; each cat had a different fur colour, but something was the same in all of them: a tiny fire in their eyes, flickering with curiosity, pride and ambition.
"Oh, so you made some, too?" Luna taunted.
"Yes," Sol replied simply. "Let's play a game. Your cats against mine. The last ones standing win."
Since she the fact that her brother was dominant, she accepted. The two sides, light and dark, fought continuously. Even though it looked like Luna's cats were winning, due to their heartless clawing and beating, Sol's wounded cats pulled through. Their determination and faith in themselves told them the task had to be completed. They won, and Luna's cats turned into shadows, wisps of lingering presences.
For the first time in a while, the sun came out. Luna hissed at her brother.
"Wait," he mewed. "I only did this to show you balance. The dark can't have power forever. But then again, light can't either."
He gestured towards the shadow cats. "Shadows only become darker in the light," he explained. "Just like how light only becomes brighter in the dark."
Hurt and not willing to accept this lecture, Luna scurried off. Sol just sighed, deciding he would withdraw until she came to her senses. Once again, the light went out, letting the night wash away the plethora of colours.
~~
Luna didn't come to her senses. Of course, being treated like this all your life made you twisted. She sought revenge, finding Sol, who was never a good hider, and killing him in his sleep. He woke up with her claws in his throat. He tried to speak, but only wet coughs came out.
"You've been dominant for long enough," she growled. "Now you can see how it feels to be neglected."
Choking, Sol tried to speak again, but only a whisper came out: "I forgive you."
Then he passed, his soul rising up above the murder scene below him. He stopped when he reached the sky. "Where am I?" he spoke aloud, needing assurance that he was still someone, something. He began padding forward, and everywhere he stepped, a small light appeared in the thick blackness. He didn't know it yet, but he had just founded StarClan, and his friends would join him there for years to come.
~~
Luna, on the verge of insanity, began to hunt down the cats Sol created, to remove his presence entirely. She managed to kill one, because she only found one before the others found her. She fought against them violently, wounding many that were just healing, but the numbers went against her and she died. Only one of the cats was big and muscular, but another was intelligent and another was fast. They were all driven by the fact that they had to avenge their fallen friend.
~~
When she died, Luna returned to the forest, the place where darkness always finds a home. She awoke, the reddish light penetrating her eyelids and disturbing her. She growled. The air was humid, whistles and echoes bouncing off of the stillness. She felt as though eyes watched her.
"Come out and fight!" she yowled. Nothing responded. "Are you a coward?"
But of course, nothingness can't be a coward; you can only be a coward of it.
"Come on! Where are you?" she continued. A hot wind blew through, but it was so subtle, her fur didn't even rustle in its presence. Luna sat there and wept, for a long time. And that means a really long time, since it's virtually nonexistent in her world.
You can only stop the tears when you've got nothing left to cry. And now, Luna really had nothing left. She was alone in the world she had created, destroyed by who she trusted.
~~
"Now you see, kits, you musn't try to take control of things," the elder would say, ending the story. "You must find compromises to balance things out. Then everyone's happy."
The kits would be silent after the story, and sometimes one would ask, "So was Luna alone forever?"
The elder would meow,"No. She was the first in the Dark Forest, and many joined her later. But she was alone for a long time, and now, all she can do is wait for more cats to join her. You wouldn't want to go there."
After that line, the kits shivered and left, leaving only the little runt who had tripped and fell behind. This kit would ask,"Why is life so unfair?"
With that, the elder, with their throat as dry as sand, would just chuckle, knowing this kit had more potential than it was credited for.
The kit, who gave up and decided not to bother the elder, would scamper off. And if it was slow enough, it could hear the whisper from the elder as they whispered the last words of an age long story.
There are no happy endings.

“Hey Mudkit! Catch!”
A small, dark brown kit with blue eyes turned to the direction of the voice, before cowering. A mossball was flying in his direction but all he could do was try to become even smaller in hopes of avoiding the weapon of destruction.
“I got it, Gorsekit!” came another voice, this one high pitched and slightly hoarse.
Mudkit slowly opened his eyes to see a fluffy, grey tabby in front of him. Oh great, Sleetkit.
“Mudkit, you should play with us,” Sleetkit said kindly, the squeakiness of his voice making him sound more like his mother than his peer.
“Don't wanna,” Mudkit whined. “You always push it too hard my way.”
“But that makes it twice as fun! It's the RiverClan version of the game” Gorsekit chimed in, nudging the mossball towards the two. He had coal black fur with white patches and green eyes. He was a really cute kit, according to Mudkit's mother. He lowered his gaze in jealousy and shame. When he finally fought back his tears, a few more paws were in his view. The females. Even better.
“Sleetkit! I wanna play!” Applekit gushed.
“Yeah! Mudkit can be the one who decides which team got the point,” Blushkit added. She was the nicest of the lot, who at least tried to go further than the usual invitation Mudkit was given.
“Alright,” Sleetkit declared, loving the dominance of being “leader”. “Applekit and Gorsekit, me and Blushkit then.”
“Blushkit and I,” Mudkit whispered, which only earned a small kick from Sleetkit.
“Get lost, loner,” he snickered, and the others joined in. Even Blushkit stuck her tongue out at him.
“Dirtface! Mouse brain! Fox dung!”
The names. He heard them everyday, but it still hurt to hear them from his peers. It was true that he was the only kit in a litter, but they didn't have to remind him every time. Sighing, he went back to his mother's nest, but she wasn't there as usual. She had healed quicker than expected, and was now on minor duties like collecting herbs for Duskwing, the medicine cat.
He rolled around in the moss, the warm scent of milk and his mother caressing him gently. His father would visit soon, but he never believed the stories Mudkit told about the other kits. In front of him, they were just sweet little bundles of joy, bursting with enthusiasm and kindness. Mudkit was actually very intelligent for his age, since he had so much time to observe things and think them through. He never played mossball or tag or pick the stick with the others; he chose to visit Redtalon in the elders' den instead. Too bad his parents underestimated him so much.
Usually, he'd have to wait for another queen, usually Sleetkit and Gorsekit's mother, to take him to see Redtalon. But then again, he also snuck out quite a lot, since he had explored the nursery so many times during his free time (which was a lot of time). Mudkit slid through the scented bushes that bordered the nursery and made his way behind the fresh-kill pile, before diving through the reeds of the elders' den. Redtalon, who was the only one not sleeping, let out a mrrow! of surprise. He was younger than most of the elders, though he had to retire earlier because of his failing senses. Still, it had been a long time since then.
“Little kit, what brings you here?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“I don't wanna play with Sleetkit or Gorsekit or Applekit,” he harrumphed. Then, turning a bit red in the face, he added, “Or Blushkit.”
“She wasn't nice to you today?” Redtalon cooed, amused.
“No,” he replied defiantly. “She's never nice.”
“That's not what you said last time. Didn't she share the strawberry her father brought her with you?”
“That was that one time.”
“Hm.. Then how about the time she told you she liked your eyes?”
“Everyone says that just to look nice.”
Mudkit sulked, curling up into a little (and wow, it was little) ball and flattened his ears. Redtalon knew what this meant that he secretly wanted to receive some attention, so he got up and padded over to the little kit, licking his fur so it stood up.
"Come on, it's okay," he purred softly, and Mudkit would fall asleep there until his mother came searching for him at bedtime.
~A long time later~
"Mudstorm, let's go! What's taking you so long? We have a patrol to go on!"
The dark brown cat yawned softly, stretching before eventually getting up. The sunlight streamed through the reeds of the warriors' den, penetrating his eyelids and forcing him out of his comfortable position.
"Gorseclaw, why are you always so enthusiastic in the morning?"
"Why are you always so grouchy in the morning? Wait, you're always grouchy," the handsome tom sneered. "Come on, Applenose is waiting."
Mudstorm dragged himself out of camp, following the couple (they were shy to eachother but everyone knew it) to the river. Ever since the death of Redtalon, he felt like nothing; just a pebble on the shore, a needle on a pine tree. If he disappeared, there were always replacements. You wouldn't even notice if he was missing.
Once they reached the river, he made sure to walk far away from them, to the spot where he personally buried Redtalon's body. He sat by the mound, where traces of plants were growing. He snuggled by it, the scent of his favourite cat long gone, but the memories entombed in the earth forever.
"What should I do?" he whispered. "I've been useless for my whole life. Should I just give up?"
He knew he would never be accepted into StarClan for taking his own life.
"Hey Dirtface! Catch anything yet?" Gorseclaw's voice yelled from some fronds.
Scrambling to his paws, he quickly tried to catch a fish to appear mildly useful. Unfortunately, he was unbalanced when he stood, so when he leaned over to catch a fish, his whole body fell into the water.
"Help!" Mudstorm gurgled. He fought the water, thrashing with his leg muscles to try and keep his head surfaced. A wave washed over him, filling his nose and mouth with water. Then he popped up again, clawing at the air, feeling another whirlpool tugging at him. Panicked, he tried to kick again, but he had lost his strenth. Suddenly, strong jaws gripped his scruff and someone nosed his flank, guiding him over to the shore.
"What were you thinking, mouse brain? You're lucky we saved you," Applenose panted.
"I didn't- It wasn't - " Mudstorm gasped, trying to tell her he wasn't trying to kill himself.
"Whatever, Applenose, he's alive. We should head back anyway, since we've already caught enough between us two," Gorseclaw growled, his fur soaked and dripping. He stood up and began trudging back to camp, obviously irritated. "You useless pile of fox dung."
The names. Would he ever stop hearing them?
~~
"Do you feel sick?"
"No, Duskwing, I'm fine."
Mudstorm actually did feel quite sick, but he knew it wasn't from his near death experience. He was sick at heart, craving some sort of attention from someone other than the one who was supposed to give attention to weaklings. Duskwing could read his expression, though.
"Stay here for a while, okay? I need some help with a few things," the medicine cat mewed quietly. "You can sleep if you're tired."
Mudstorm was about to protest, but he really was exhausted, so he closed his eyes curled up, flattening his ears. Duskwing didn't take the signal.
~~
There was a warm light in the area. It glistened off of the... frost? A shallow mist clung to the ground, freezing when it touched a fern or a leaf. Mudstorm looked around - no - he looked up. He was at the base of a high mountain, somewhere far from the reeds and moss he was used to. Curious, he explored, climbing the mountain with ease. The hill was much less steep than it appeared to be, and his feet didn't slip once. A few fireflies lit up the area, their luminescence lighting up his heart, too.
He climbed until the slope evened out to a flatter area. Was this the top? Yes it was! A smile lit up the brown tom's face for the first time since Redtalon's passing. He could see RiverClan territory, just by following the river that he knew so well. The source of it was a roaring waterfall, which he happened to be standing over. Small, white flowers glowed around him, reflecting his glory. They swayed ominously in the whispering wind, their perfect white petals almost shining with immortality.
And then he woke up.
"-storm? Ah, there we are, you're up. Could you take this to Goldeyes? He has aching joints," came Duskwing's voice, though his face was blurry through Mudstorm's vision.
"Um, okay," he replied hoarsely, still adjusting to the drastic change in setting. It wasn't real. None of it. He couldn't climb a tree, much less a steep mountain.
He took the herbs to Goldeyes and set them at her feet.
"It's about time," she snapped. "Oooh, it aches! Hurry up and chew this for me. Do you really think I can eat this?"
Rolling his eyes, Mudstorm began to chew whatever the stuff was. It tasted sour and earthy at the same time; disgusting.
"Man up, wimpy little mouse brain! You can't even handle some dock?"
Wait... Dock? Wasn't that for pain from cuts and scratches?
Mudstorm spat it out. Duskwing had given him the wrong herb! And it had tasted terrible.
"Fox dung!" Goldeyes cursed. A bit of poultice had gotten onto her fur. She said some more rude things, but her hoarse voice turned into screeching and Mudstorm had to leave. He returned to the medicine den, but Duskwing wasn't there. He sighed heavily and just carried on with the rest of the day, just like he had done for several moons now.
~~
Mudstorm had been having the same dream for a moon now. He climbed to the top again, and the white flowers swirled around him, their glowing petals laughing with - not at - him. Once again, he traced the river back to RiverClan territory. It looked so pathetic under his paws. A whole Clan of mindless snobs were now reduced to the size of his paw.
But of course, he woke again the next morning to Sleetwhisker dripping some cold water from a mossball into his ear. Blushpetal was outside the den, cleaning herself.
"Get up, dirtface we're leaving," he grumbled, tossing the moss aside.
"Good morning, Mudstorm," Blushpetal meowed politely. She'd grown pretty since kithood.
"Alright, let's go," Mudstorm growled. For the first time, he was leading the patrol.
~~
"Ha, pathetic. I caught twice as many fish as you," Sleetwhisker spat. He had grown to hate Mudstorm more than his littermate.
"But you did catch more than you usually do," Blushpetal added, although it sounded like an insult since he rarely caught anything.
"Okay, I get it! You guys think I'm just some useless junk, don't you? Well, I can prove that I'm not," Mudstorm sneered, a hint of insanity in his tone. "There's a mountain, far up this river, and there are white flowers that never die on that mountain. I can climb it in less than a day and come back. Wanna see? I'll bring back a flower for you, Blushpetal."
"What? Are you planning to just.. leave?" Sleetwhisker gasped, enraged. "You wouldn't. You're a coward."
Mudstorm began bounding up the river.
"Mudstorm!" Blushpetal cried. "Don't do this!"
He chose to ignore her pleas. She never cared about him until now? Wonderful.
"You traitor! Dirtface! Mouse brain! Fox dung!"
The words were washed away, just pebbles on the shore of a raging river.
~~
Mudstorm kept jogging for a long time. His body was sweating, his lungs burning, but his new goal was the only thing on his mind. Slowly, his unused intelligence was overcome with insanity, and he ran even faster.
By sunset, he could see the foot of the mountain. A raging waterfall thundered at its base. Panting heavily, he raced faster, his muscles crying, head pounding, breathing ragged and short. Finally, he collapsed from exhaustion at the base of the mountain. There, he didn't just pass out; he passed away.
And when he awoke, he was in a misty forest. It wasn't dark or light, cold or hot. He lay there for a while, on the hard ground, and came back to his senses. He really was nothing. He couldn't even reach that mountain. Suddenly, the shadows took over the light and he was blind for a moment, before glowing white flowers bloomed and swayed, whispering the names.
Dirtface... Mouse brain... Fox dung... Coward... Wimp...
A useless bit of the world, discarded to a place where even the darkest of cats never knew. Was he to stay like this forever?