- Dec 17, 2022
- 438
- 114
- 43
He’s advised his Clanmates against it, but this night, Raccoonstripe wants to walk through the forest alone. The moon is barely a smudge in the sky, but the stars are bright and crystalline. He weaves through lengthy shadows cast by oaks and sycamores, his steps light but calculated. The tabby’s jaws part periodically, seeking unfamiliar scents—scents that should not be here, like blood, like trespasser.
Raccoonstripe needs to clear his head. With Hollow Tree’s defection and Leopardtongue’s announcement, he can’t stop thinking about loyalty, the meaning of it, the power it holds over some and how meaningless it is to cats like his eldest sister. He thinks of Little Wolf, far from home, sleeping beside cats she does not know who pledge their own fealties to other leaders. She will return to a home without her littermate. Hollow Tree hadn’t died, though, the way some yellowcough-infected cats will have by the time the journeying warriors return. She ran. She abandoned ThunderClan, and to Raccoonstripe, that is worse.
His scorn for Fireflypaw and Howlfire has seemed harsh to his Clanmates in the past, but Raccoonstripe does not regret cutting them from his life. Lakemoon deserves the same treatment, though he does not like thinking of his RiverClan niece anymore, not since the tortoiseshell he’d cleaved across the eye. Hollow Tree though had made her decision as a fully-formed adult, not an apprentice fresh from their mother’s flank.
He does not suffer fools lightly. He thought he had been able to trust any of his kin inexplicably, but now, regrettably, he finds himself casting suspicious eyes on the cats who remain in ThunderClan. He intends to remain in this forest, as a ThunderClan warrior, until he is nothing but dust in his grave, until he walks with StarClan, and his plans go further, truth be told. Leaders will fall, even his mother, and he intends to be in her position one day. She has strengthened ThunderClan from the days Emberstar had held it, but he intends to one day make them great.
And who does he want beside him when that day comes? Berryheart, his brother, of course. Moonwhisper and Burnstorm, who have seared the kittypet from their blood and who strive to make names for themselves. His friends from the marshes, warriors who are great and proud, and—
He closes his eyes. The wind presses gentle fingers through his thick fur, cool and resplendent with the forest’s nocturnal perfume.
When Raccoonstripe opens his eyes, there’s realization there, stoked like embers into a flame. “I want you behind me,” he murmurs to himself. “I want you beside me.” There is no fiercer warrior, no one who matches his energy or his passion for ThunderClan’s well-being. The tabby’s heart kicks over once, twice, but it’s not with any silly crush he’d get looking in a pretty she-cat’s direction.
Loyalty, he thinks again with a smile. “You’d better come back,” he murmurs to the wind. “I have great things planned for us.” Someday, he will lead ThunderClan, and he wants no one by his side the way he wants Nightbird.
Raccoonstripe needs to clear his head. With Hollow Tree’s defection and Leopardtongue’s announcement, he can’t stop thinking about loyalty, the meaning of it, the power it holds over some and how meaningless it is to cats like his eldest sister. He thinks of Little Wolf, far from home, sleeping beside cats she does not know who pledge their own fealties to other leaders. She will return to a home without her littermate. Hollow Tree hadn’t died, though, the way some yellowcough-infected cats will have by the time the journeying warriors return. She ran. She abandoned ThunderClan, and to Raccoonstripe, that is worse.
His scorn for Fireflypaw and Howlfire has seemed harsh to his Clanmates in the past, but Raccoonstripe does not regret cutting them from his life. Lakemoon deserves the same treatment, though he does not like thinking of his RiverClan niece anymore, not since the tortoiseshell he’d cleaved across the eye. Hollow Tree though had made her decision as a fully-formed adult, not an apprentice fresh from their mother’s flank.
He does not suffer fools lightly. He thought he had been able to trust any of his kin inexplicably, but now, regrettably, he finds himself casting suspicious eyes on the cats who remain in ThunderClan. He intends to remain in this forest, as a ThunderClan warrior, until he is nothing but dust in his grave, until he walks with StarClan, and his plans go further, truth be told. Leaders will fall, even his mother, and he intends to be in her position one day. She has strengthened ThunderClan from the days Emberstar had held it, but he intends to one day make them great.
And who does he want beside him when that day comes? Berryheart, his brother, of course. Moonwhisper and Burnstorm, who have seared the kittypet from their blood and who strive to make names for themselves. His friends from the marshes, warriors who are great and proud, and—
He closes his eyes. The wind presses gentle fingers through his thick fur, cool and resplendent with the forest’s nocturnal perfume.
When Raccoonstripe opens his eyes, there’s realization there, stoked like embers into a flame. “I want you behind me,” he murmurs to himself. “I want you beside me.” There is no fiercer warrior, no one who matches his energy or his passion for ThunderClan’s well-being. The tabby’s heart kicks over once, twice, but it’s not with any silly crush he’d get looking in a pretty she-cat’s direction.
Loyalty, he thinks again with a smile. “You’d better come back,” he murmurs to the wind. “I have great things planned for us.” Someday, he will lead ThunderClan, and he wants no one by his side the way he wants Nightbird.
