Post by Broadwaykat on Feb 18, 2020 3:53:53 GMT
Once before, Shadowfall had been privy to the fact that his clan was falling to pieces. It made his heart ache to think that it was happening again. Lost in the leaf-fall of their new home, they had been all but buried – and had lost so many familiar faces that he was certain that, were they actually able to dig themselves out of the cold, it would be a miracle.
Food was scarce, and the ribs of his skeleton poked through his thin pelt showed this. He had given up many a meal to feeed a hungry kit. His stomach pained him constantly, but of course – it could be worse. Others had been lost to them; and as much as he spent as many waking moments as he could searching amongst his ancestors in Starclan for them, those who had gone missing he could not find; and he felt like his heart was choking him every time he thought of them.
As he lay in his nest, he tossed and turned, hunger literally gnawing at him. He had little strength left, little desire to move on in any way. As he curled up that night he could almost feel his own breath slowing, his vision misty, as finally someone seemed to reach out to him with paws lit by starlight.
“Vine!”
“My valiant fool...” She whispered as she rubbed against his cheek. She felt more solid to him than she ever had. “In such a hurry to stay with me?”
“That's all I've ever wanted.” He grunted, his voice thick with unshed emotion. “It's all I've ever wanted. I need you.”
“It's your clan that needs you now, more than ever.” She whispered to him, guiding him along a starlit path.
“What they need is a leader!” He grumbled. “They need guidance!”
“Yes, they do.” She urged. “And you know the answer to that, don't you?”
“I know the answers to nothing when my clanmates disappear around me!” He snapped, and almost immediately regretted it; for all that Vine's face remained stoic as she stared into his eyes.
“Before we were a clan, we were a tribe.” She reasoned. “That we can never be again, but you know as well as I do that a healer can lead just as well. You fought for your clan, then you healed them. What Rootclan needs now is something to rally for. And it has to be you. Besides -” And here she paused, giving a little mirthful mirr of laughter. “There will be someone to take your place soon enough...”
His vision was directed below him to a bird's eye view of the camp. Zooming in on the gloom of the nursery, where half-grown kits nestled up against a queen's side; a familiar long-furred tortie kicked against the side. They should have been made apprentices ages ago, but with the danger their clan had been in a relatively light-hearted ceremony had been pushed to the wayside.
“Rumblekit.” He grunted in agreement – he'd been thinking of taking the she-cat underpaw since she had shown a keen interest in helping rather than fighting.
“Rumblepaw.” Vine insisted. “But you will not be the one to train her. You've given so much of yourself, Shadow. Too much.”
“What?”
The scene changed, warping out to his own den, his own body, which had grown eerily still. He had remember standing over others who had been that still, some bloody, some utterly unmarked; like he was now. Oddly enough, he found her was not at all panicked.
“I'm...dead, arn't I?” He asked.
“For the time being.” Whispered Vine, causing Shadow to turn sharply with a questioning look on his face. “Come and meet your ancestors.” She purred, and, the scene changed yet again, this time lit by an inky blackness which was still somehow the brightest thing he had ever seen; surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar fellow cats who gathered around him, jostling for position until one thin stony tom pushed his way forward.
“Firstspeaker!”
The older leader inclined his head. “I'd have never taken you for a cat who would have laid down and let the world roll over them, Shadow of Falling Leaves. Shadowfall.” The old tom addressed him with a sharp nod. “If Rootclan is to survive, you must gather your fortitude, your wits, and lead them out of the darkness and into the light.”
“Me?!” Shadowfall felt his jaw threaten to touch his paws. “Firstspeaker, I am a Medicine Cat! I am no leader -”
“And yet, in the past, Rootclan has shown that to properly lead you must be both a healer and a fighter.” He reasoned. “Before you healed your clanmates, you fought alongside them. You protected those who hunted for a living and for those who could not protect themselves. When you became a Medicine Cat, you did not rip out your claws, Shadowfall. You did not lose the edge of your fang or the fleetness of your paws. You can call on them still, if you so choose. You will need to if Rootclan is to survive.”
“But what can I do?”
“All you can offer is yourself. And I think you'll find that more than worthy.” Firstspeaker insisted. “But it is your choice. If you wish, you may stay here with us. You have more than earned your right to rest among the Stars...”
It was so tempting, that thought, but something niggled at the back of Shadowfall's mind. “And Rootclan?”
“Will cease to exist. Those who survive will scatter to the winds, and become one with the clan. We will fall as we were threatened with so many moons ago.”
Shadowfall bit his lip, hard enough that had he been made of substance at that moment he surely would have drawn blood.
“Shadow?” Vine's voice caused him to turn his head. She shuffled her starry paws on the ground. “I want you to stay with me one day. I want you to rest with me and your kits. But...our tribe, our clan...” She raised her eyes to meet his own. “What is it worth, resting at last, if everything is lost in the process.”
Shadow's chest hitched. He knew what the answer was. “It's worth nothing.”
“We've fought so hard...” She whispered in agreement. “You've always fought. And now it's time to win...”
With a heavy head, Shadowfall turned to his former leader, his healer. “What must I do.”
“Just be as you have always been.” Firstspeaker whispered. “And allow us to help guide your paws one last time...”
All at once, six other cats stepped forward, some familiar, others not. Firstspeaker remained where he stood and simply stretched his long neck forward, brushing it against his throat.
“With this life, I give you acceptance.” Firstspeaker intoned. “There are some things you cannot change, and may my life grant you the ability for you to see what those things are, and to adapt around them. It is something I, admittedly, might have missed out on in life – but vital for our tribe, our clan, moving forwards.”
The ground seemed to solidify once more beneath Shadowfall's paws as he stood, a heavy weight settling on his shoulders. The second cat to step forward was sprightly if nothing, one of the newly dead and missing.
“Shrikefire!”
“'Lo, Shadowfall.” She whispered, the brown and white she-cat once again showing a spark in her step and fire in her eyes. “I'm sorry I'm not there to help. Can you...Can you tell my ma I'm watching over everyone.”
“She misses you...” He whispered.
“I miss her too...” The young warrior seemed to lapse into thought before finally darting forward. “With this life, I give you determination. Let nothing stand in the way of what you want to achieve.”
A third cat crept up behind her, this a dusky grey tom he could not place. Perhaps he had been an elder when he was barely a kit.
“With this life, I give you wisdom. Use it to guide your clan, to know when to judge others, and to provide others with the gift of even reason and forsight.” The older tom entoned, and Shadowfall, with this life, felt an eerie stillness eek it's way into his mind.
A black and white she-cat stepped forwards this time; he recognized her from some of the gatherings, but shockingly enough it was from another clan. He cocked his head questioningly.
“Poppyjaw, hello.” She huffed. “Winter was...rough...on many of the clans.” Shadowfall realized with a pang that she must be refering to her own death.
“In any case...with this life, I give you instinct. Trust them, live by them, depend on them – cause a cat ain't worth half if they don't use what nature's given them.” With a gruff little nod, she turned her tail, and Shadowfall found himself ashamed that he had never actually got to speak with the she-cat more in life.
A tiny kit skipped forward; he recognized her not from a recent litter, but from one of the cats who had died on the journey to their new home. “m' excited!” She purred, positively vibrating with eagerness. “I'm important, like! I never got to do this before.”
Given her size, it looked like she had never gotten to do much in life. Shadowfall had to lower his head ever so slightly so her small muzzle could graze his chin. “With this life, I give you, uh...curiosity! Never be afraid to learn more about the world around you; so your eyes are always open and you share the surprise for the world like a kit fresh out of the den!”
Shadowfall found that he was echoing her purr in the back of his throat, even as his limbs felt leaddened as he stood. Another strange brown tom crept forward at this – another cat from a different clan.
“Respect for your elders! That's the life I give you...” He rumbled, giving Shadowfall a swipe with his front paws in none too kind a gesture; but where his touch had landed his chest felt warm. “Know that they have many years knowledge and deserve the respect of ages no matter how feeble they grow or how addled their mind. They are your past as much as your warriors now remain your future.”
A seventh cat crept forward; thin-bodied and whip-sharp; if she hadn't had stars at her paws he would have assumed this was a warrior in her prime, and not an ancestor. “With my life, I give you endurance. Let tiredness never dog your paws as you run swift as the wind. Troubles may try to drag you down, but first they must catch you.” The thin warrior winked, before sauntering away with a spring in her step.
Leaving, at last...Vine.
“You have already lost one life, Shadowfall.” She whispered sadly. “Before you knew you might have more to give. So I am given the task of giving you your eighth and final life.” She crept close, and for the first time Shadowfall thought he could feel her breath tickling his cheek once more.
“With this life, I give you what I have always given you, what I have always wished for you.” She drew close and whispered as intimately as he had ever remembered. “I give you love. Love for your clan, love for yourself. Always love. And I have faith you know what to do with it.”
A shrieking pain seemed to set his bones on fire as Vine nipped at the edge of his ear, the ghost of her fangs grazing the tender tip. He wanted to scream, but found he could not – his lungs had no breath in which to cry out. Until suddenly, they did.
With a ragged gasp, Shadowfall shot up in his nest, ears flat against his head. What had happened. That was no regular dream, no message or prophecy, was it?
But the truth was still ringing in his ears, the last reminder that something...extraordinary had happened, as the memory of a hundred voices rang in his head with a new chant. A new name.
Food was scarce, and the ribs of his skeleton poked through his thin pelt showed this. He had given up many a meal to feeed a hungry kit. His stomach pained him constantly, but of course – it could be worse. Others had been lost to them; and as much as he spent as many waking moments as he could searching amongst his ancestors in Starclan for them, those who had gone missing he could not find; and he felt like his heart was choking him every time he thought of them.
As he lay in his nest, he tossed and turned, hunger literally gnawing at him. He had little strength left, little desire to move on in any way. As he curled up that night he could almost feel his own breath slowing, his vision misty, as finally someone seemed to reach out to him with paws lit by starlight.
“Vine!”
“My valiant fool...” She whispered as she rubbed against his cheek. She felt more solid to him than she ever had. “In such a hurry to stay with me?”
“That's all I've ever wanted.” He grunted, his voice thick with unshed emotion. “It's all I've ever wanted. I need you.”
“It's your clan that needs you now, more than ever.” She whispered to him, guiding him along a starlit path.
“What they need is a leader!” He grumbled. “They need guidance!”
“Yes, they do.” She urged. “And you know the answer to that, don't you?”
“I know the answers to nothing when my clanmates disappear around me!” He snapped, and almost immediately regretted it; for all that Vine's face remained stoic as she stared into his eyes.
“Before we were a clan, we were a tribe.” She reasoned. “That we can never be again, but you know as well as I do that a healer can lead just as well. You fought for your clan, then you healed them. What Rootclan needs now is something to rally for. And it has to be you. Besides -” And here she paused, giving a little mirthful mirr of laughter. “There will be someone to take your place soon enough...”
His vision was directed below him to a bird's eye view of the camp. Zooming in on the gloom of the nursery, where half-grown kits nestled up against a queen's side; a familiar long-furred tortie kicked against the side. They should have been made apprentices ages ago, but with the danger their clan had been in a relatively light-hearted ceremony had been pushed to the wayside.
“Rumblekit.” He grunted in agreement – he'd been thinking of taking the she-cat underpaw since she had shown a keen interest in helping rather than fighting.
“Rumblepaw.” Vine insisted. “But you will not be the one to train her. You've given so much of yourself, Shadow. Too much.”
“What?”
The scene changed, warping out to his own den, his own body, which had grown eerily still. He had remember standing over others who had been that still, some bloody, some utterly unmarked; like he was now. Oddly enough, he found her was not at all panicked.
“I'm...dead, arn't I?” He asked.
“For the time being.” Whispered Vine, causing Shadow to turn sharply with a questioning look on his face. “Come and meet your ancestors.” She purred, and, the scene changed yet again, this time lit by an inky blackness which was still somehow the brightest thing he had ever seen; surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar fellow cats who gathered around him, jostling for position until one thin stony tom pushed his way forward.
“Firstspeaker!”
The older leader inclined his head. “I'd have never taken you for a cat who would have laid down and let the world roll over them, Shadow of Falling Leaves. Shadowfall.” The old tom addressed him with a sharp nod. “If Rootclan is to survive, you must gather your fortitude, your wits, and lead them out of the darkness and into the light.”
“Me?!” Shadowfall felt his jaw threaten to touch his paws. “Firstspeaker, I am a Medicine Cat! I am no leader -”
“And yet, in the past, Rootclan has shown that to properly lead you must be both a healer and a fighter.” He reasoned. “Before you healed your clanmates, you fought alongside them. You protected those who hunted for a living and for those who could not protect themselves. When you became a Medicine Cat, you did not rip out your claws, Shadowfall. You did not lose the edge of your fang or the fleetness of your paws. You can call on them still, if you so choose. You will need to if Rootclan is to survive.”
“But what can I do?”
“All you can offer is yourself. And I think you'll find that more than worthy.” Firstspeaker insisted. “But it is your choice. If you wish, you may stay here with us. You have more than earned your right to rest among the Stars...”
It was so tempting, that thought, but something niggled at the back of Shadowfall's mind. “And Rootclan?”
“Will cease to exist. Those who survive will scatter to the winds, and become one with the clan. We will fall as we were threatened with so many moons ago.”
Shadowfall bit his lip, hard enough that had he been made of substance at that moment he surely would have drawn blood.
“Shadow?” Vine's voice caused him to turn his head. She shuffled her starry paws on the ground. “I want you to stay with me one day. I want you to rest with me and your kits. But...our tribe, our clan...” She raised her eyes to meet his own. “What is it worth, resting at last, if everything is lost in the process.”
Shadow's chest hitched. He knew what the answer was. “It's worth nothing.”
“We've fought so hard...” She whispered in agreement. “You've always fought. And now it's time to win...”
With a heavy head, Shadowfall turned to his former leader, his healer. “What must I do.”
“Just be as you have always been.” Firstspeaker whispered. “And allow us to help guide your paws one last time...”
All at once, six other cats stepped forward, some familiar, others not. Firstspeaker remained where he stood and simply stretched his long neck forward, brushing it against his throat.
“With this life, I give you acceptance.” Firstspeaker intoned. “There are some things you cannot change, and may my life grant you the ability for you to see what those things are, and to adapt around them. It is something I, admittedly, might have missed out on in life – but vital for our tribe, our clan, moving forwards.”
The ground seemed to solidify once more beneath Shadowfall's paws as he stood, a heavy weight settling on his shoulders. The second cat to step forward was sprightly if nothing, one of the newly dead and missing.
“Shrikefire!”
“'Lo, Shadowfall.” She whispered, the brown and white she-cat once again showing a spark in her step and fire in her eyes. “I'm sorry I'm not there to help. Can you...Can you tell my ma I'm watching over everyone.”
“She misses you...” He whispered.
“I miss her too...” The young warrior seemed to lapse into thought before finally darting forward. “With this life, I give you determination. Let nothing stand in the way of what you want to achieve.”
A third cat crept up behind her, this a dusky grey tom he could not place. Perhaps he had been an elder when he was barely a kit.
“With this life, I give you wisdom. Use it to guide your clan, to know when to judge others, and to provide others with the gift of even reason and forsight.” The older tom entoned, and Shadowfall, with this life, felt an eerie stillness eek it's way into his mind.
A black and white she-cat stepped forwards this time; he recognized her from some of the gatherings, but shockingly enough it was from another clan. He cocked his head questioningly.
“Poppyjaw, hello.” She huffed. “Winter was...rough...on many of the clans.” Shadowfall realized with a pang that she must be refering to her own death.
“In any case...with this life, I give you instinct. Trust them, live by them, depend on them – cause a cat ain't worth half if they don't use what nature's given them.” With a gruff little nod, she turned her tail, and Shadowfall found himself ashamed that he had never actually got to speak with the she-cat more in life.
A tiny kit skipped forward; he recognized her not from a recent litter, but from one of the cats who had died on the journey to their new home. “m' excited!” She purred, positively vibrating with eagerness. “I'm important, like! I never got to do this before.”
Given her size, it looked like she had never gotten to do much in life. Shadowfall had to lower his head ever so slightly so her small muzzle could graze his chin. “With this life, I give you, uh...curiosity! Never be afraid to learn more about the world around you; so your eyes are always open and you share the surprise for the world like a kit fresh out of the den!”
Shadowfall found that he was echoing her purr in the back of his throat, even as his limbs felt leaddened as he stood. Another strange brown tom crept forward at this – another cat from a different clan.
“Respect for your elders! That's the life I give you...” He rumbled, giving Shadowfall a swipe with his front paws in none too kind a gesture; but where his touch had landed his chest felt warm. “Know that they have many years knowledge and deserve the respect of ages no matter how feeble they grow or how addled their mind. They are your past as much as your warriors now remain your future.”
A seventh cat crept forward; thin-bodied and whip-sharp; if she hadn't had stars at her paws he would have assumed this was a warrior in her prime, and not an ancestor. “With my life, I give you endurance. Let tiredness never dog your paws as you run swift as the wind. Troubles may try to drag you down, but first they must catch you.” The thin warrior winked, before sauntering away with a spring in her step.
Leaving, at last...Vine.
“You have already lost one life, Shadowfall.” She whispered sadly. “Before you knew you might have more to give. So I am given the task of giving you your eighth and final life.” She crept close, and for the first time Shadowfall thought he could feel her breath tickling his cheek once more.
“With this life, I give you what I have always given you, what I have always wished for you.” She drew close and whispered as intimately as he had ever remembered. “I give you love. Love for your clan, love for yourself. Always love. And I have faith you know what to do with it.”
A shrieking pain seemed to set his bones on fire as Vine nipped at the edge of his ear, the ghost of her fangs grazing the tender tip. He wanted to scream, but found he could not – his lungs had no breath in which to cry out. Until suddenly, they did.
With a ragged gasp, Shadowfall shot up in his nest, ears flat against his head. What had happened. That was no regular dream, no message or prophecy, was it?
But the truth was still ringing in his ears, the last reminder that something...extraordinary had happened, as the memory of a hundred voices rang in his head with a new chant. A new name.
“Shadowstar.”
