Post by Snowstar on Oct 29, 2011 3:52:40 GMT -5
The wind chilled her to the bone as it cut across the moors. Snowfur picked her way delicately through the sparse brush, feeling for the path that her eyes were not searching out. She knew enough about WindClan’s territory to be able to make her way almost blind through it; but her path suddenly veered sharply up a steep slope, and pebble crackled under her slim paws as she broke out into a run. The wind whistled past her ears, filling her lungs, racing with her heart. Filling her with life. She smiled to herself as she felt the breeze rippled through her fur; this was why she had come alone. She needed to get away, if only for a short time, from her clan-mates. This burden, this new, unfamiliar responsibility, was something she was coming to terms with, and it was still difficult to take in. The idea of being a leader…well, Snowfur didn’t quite know how to feel about it yet. She was still shocked that she’d been chosen; perhaps numb was the word. Blackstar and Echopool’s deaths had hit her hard, and the very notion of taking their places made her heart feel heavy. Her paws slowed as a chilly wind blew an unfamiliar, and dank scent her way.
She froze, the thought of what lay just beyond the boundary daunting, frightening and overwhelming her all at the same time. Just there, just beyond the border, there lay the Moonpool, unassuming and empty. Snowfur swallowed thickly, feeling a strange chill creep up her spine as she took her first, tentative step towards it. She passed into the cave, feeling the darkness close around her like a thicket. She sucked in a deep breath, the cold, musty air of the cave seizing her lungs and making her shudder. The pool glistened with reflected moonlight, the stars of Silverpelt sprinkled across the surface. Snowfur gazed across at it, and then down at it as she slowly approached. Her heart was racing, her mind whirling; could she truly lead this clan? Could she put aside her misgivings and become Snowstar? She would be leaving behind her life as a warrior, as everything familiar and loved. She would be a new cat, someone different and strange and foreign to her own self. Taking a deep breath, the she-cat crouched beside the pool, her pink nose hovering just inches from the surface, breath making ripples across the top. Closing her eyes, Snowfur let out a deep sigh, and slowly, tentatively dipped her tongue into the water
When Snowfur blinked her eyes awake, the landscape had utterly changed. Everything around her was smattered with silver stars, and it seemed more like a shadow of reality than reality itself. She stood up, blinking wide, owlish eyes at the strangeness around her. “Is this-” StarClan?The words were left unspoken, feeling almost sacrilegious. Is this what the other leaders saw when they dreamed? What the Medicine Cats saw? Snowfur felt a newfound respect bubble in her chest for Sparrowpaw; the young tom was indeed very privileged. But what now? Where did she go from here?
“Welcome to StarClan, Snowfur.”
Snowfur whipped around, eyes wide and fur bristling, and nearly fell over from shock. “B-Blackstar?” she managed weakly, staring up across at a large black tom with startling golden eyes. The tom dipped his head, and padded forward on silent feet. Snowfur took note of the stars speckling his fur, and the way he moved with such grace, youth, and vigor. She remembered this Blackstar; she was nearly 48 moons herself, and she’d seen him in his younger days. He looked healthy and happy, and he purred as he neared her, brushing his pelt briefly against hers.
“It is good to see you, old friend,” he said quietly, and Snowfur felt a purr bubbling up in her own throat, before Blackstar disappeared from her side.
His tail swayed behind him as more cats began to emerge from the shadows. Stars clung to their pelts, their eyes wide and luminous in the dark of the forest. Snowfur saw many familiar faces, many old, and many new, and many unfamiliar, even to her. She stood still as the cats slowly formed a semi-circle before her, each wearing their own benign expression, mixed in with whatever personality shone out through their face. Blackstar was their leader, standing out above the crowd and gazing down at Snowfur with a mixture of pity, curiosity, and mild amusement. Snowfur wasn’t sure what that first look was for, but it rubbed her fur the wrong way.
“I apologize, Snowfur,” he said at last. “But as the new leader, you will be given nine lives.” Snowfur wasn’t sure why he was apologizing for that, but his next words made it clear. “I apologize because not all of these lives are…so kind. Some may be very painful. Are you ready to receive your nine lives?”
Slowly, Snowfur nodded, feeling the knot in her chest constrict and her fur bristle. Blackstar returned the nod, and stepped back, lowering his head as the first cat stepped forward. It was a little beige tom with sandy brown eyes. He had a crooked half smile on his handsome face, and Snowfur felt recognition flare through her, white hot and painful. “Sandpaw,” she murmured, a note of regret in her voice. The apprentice had been found dead near the border, and his death was a mystery. He should not have died so young.
“Hey there, Snowfur!” he chirped, bouncing forward with such vigor that it made Snowfur’s heart hurt. “Wipe that look off your face, Snowfur. I’m fine. In fact, I kinda like it here.” He smiled shyly, and the white she-cat rolled her eyes faintly, before he was suddenly in her face. “This might hurt,” he mewed, sounding apologetic. “Snowfur, with this life, I give you strength, so that you may keep your clan from faltering, and so that your own heart remains strong when others do not.” He pressed his nose to hers, and a white hot, searching pain flashed through her, so strong it nearly weighed her down. She gasped for breath, her body feeling like a stone. When Sandpaw stepped back, the feeling lifted, and Snowfur sucked in a brilliant breath of air. With another mischievous smirk, Sandpaw bounded back into the ranks of StarClan cats with a whisker of his tail.
Another cat stepped forward, and this time, Snowfur felt the jolt right down to her paws. “F-Father…” she whispered, and watched as a white tom, so similar to her, stepped forward. The jagged scar across his face and familiar ice-blue eyes were like a shock to her system, and she felt herself trembling as she fought the urge to cry.
“None of that now,” Stormscar said brusquely. He looked vaguely comfortable, but still managed a faint smile at his daughter. “I am so proud of you Snowfur. You are more than I ever dreamed, and you will become the best leader WindClan has ever seen.” He leaned forward, resting his muzzle atop hers, and closing his eyes. This time, the feeling was still strong, but it was warm, and dizzying, sending a spark straight down to her claws. “With this life, I give you justice, so that you may know right from wrong and judge all that you know to be fair. Do not be so quick to pass your verdicts; remember that not all is as it seems.” He stepped back, his blue eyes regarding his daughter calmly, proudly, before he nodded to her. “We’ll see each other again, someday,” he said softly, before he too, stepped back into the crowd.
Snowfur wanted to call out to him, but she was stopped by a she-cat who slid from the crowd with a graceful stride, her golden brown tabby coat smattered with stars. “You’ll see us all again, someday, Snowfur. Do you remember me? I‘m Spottednight, I remember you,” she assured with a faint purr. Her eyes were shadowed and haunted by a specter from her past, and Snowfur quickly looked away, lest she become entranced by their mystery. “With this life,” the she-cat mewed gently. “I give you patience, so that you may always stop and remember, when you desire only to move forward and forget. …and you’ll need it,” she added, smiling in amusement as she tipped her nose forward and pressed it gently to Snowfur’s. The feeling this time was heady, slow, and cool, but it felt like sticky sap, and seemed to cling to her insides with the force of a sticky burr. Snowfur gulped in a lungful of air as the she-cat stepped back, her smile and haunted eyes still wide, and disappeared into the crowd.
When the next she-cat stepped forward, the overwhelming urge to cry overcame Snowfur again, and she shook with suppressed emotion as the pretty black and white she-cat glided forward. The blue eyes, so like her own, so like her father’s, stared lovingly down at Snowfur, and the white she-cat was instantly transported back to her days as a kit, surrounded by love and milk and warmth. “B-Barkface…” she murmured softly, frozen to the spot with shock and pain.
“My dear little kit,” the she-cat mewed gently, closing her eyes with a pleased smile. “I am so, so very proud of you. There is nothing better that I could have asked for you. WindClan leader, Snowfur! I am…I am just so proud!” She purred loudly, and twitched her whiskers. “Snowfur, my darling, with this life, I give you kindness, so that you may understand the hearts of your Clan and they, in turn, will know yours.” Her mother pressed her muzzle gently to Snowfur’s, and the shock this time wasn’t overwhelming, but slow and tingly, gentle and enveloping, and it reminded Snowfur of everything she loved about her mother. Her heart swelled as Barkface stepped back, and the two she-cat’s locked gazes; Snowfur knew they would meet again, even as her mother disappeared into the crowd of cats.
The darkness shifted, and a black tom stepped forward. His icy blue eyes were shrouded with happiness, and he looked vaguely amused as Snowfur gaped at him. It was…her brother, Oneshadow. Snowfur’s heart hurt when she thought of his difficult this was becoming; seeing her family again was painful. Oneshadow seemed to understand as he purred softly, blinking warmly at his sister from only a few inches away. “Don’t even start with me,” he chided gently. “I don’t want to hear it. You and I parted on good terms, so don’t bring any of that up.” Snowfur nodded numbly, and Oneshadow seemed satisfied that she wouldn’t talk about their argument. “Good,” he mewed briskly, before he stepped closer, and gently laid his muzzle on top of hers. “With this life, I give you forgiveness. When you are unable to let go of the past, remember the cats who showed you compassion throughout your life, and reach out to those who haven't.” Snowfur felt a painful flash of sensation that was here and gone, and then an encompassing gentleness that gave her the feeling of being set free, and her spirit very nearly soared as Oneshadow stepped back and away, disappearing into the shadows of cats.
The next cat to step forward was very familiar; the lithe little gray tabby tom was Echopool, the former deputy of WindClan. He looked rather spry, and amused, and he practically bounced forward towards Snowfur. “Never would’ve pegged you for the one to take charge. I thought you were always the one to stay out of these things, little miss grumpy fur.” Snowfur scowled as Echopool laughed; they’d been in the same age bracket, nearly kitted in the same season, and Echopool had always gloried in annoying Snowfur. “Guess I should get on with it, huh?” Echopool continued as he heard Blackstar clear his throat pointedly. “Snowfur, with this life, I give you wisdom. Remember that not all fights must end in blood-shed and that even when you doubt yourself, you will still know what is true.” When he touched his muzzle to Snowfur’s, the life that stole over her was swift, quick, and painful, then slow, tantalizing and warm. It felt like something gained after a very long time, something you searched for and finally attained, and Snowfur smiled faintly, ignoring the pain that still raced through her every so often as Echopool danced away into the crowd.
The next cat was a small black and white she-cat. She was younger than Snowfur, and she knew her name to be Troutpool. “Hello there,” the she-cat greeted, purring faintly. She looked relatively happy, and Snowfur wondered what had actually happened to her; she should’ve paid more attention to the clan over the years. “Snowfur, with this life…I give you love -- That your heart might always be open, and your passion soars.” When she touched her muzzle to Snowfur’s, agony, pain, and a searing, blinding energy raced through her. She clamped her jaws shut, keeping them studiously closed as the agony laced through her body and along her spine. Her heart raced, stuttered, and nearly stopped as the pain intensified behind it, and then, a warm, tender feeling spread through her, and the pain melted away to a dull throb, nearly overcome by the warmth as Troutpool slid back into the throng of cats surrounding them.
The second to last cat to approach Snowfur was a pretty red she-cat. Her fur was long, and well kept, and when she glided closer, Snowfur caught the faint tang of herbs clinging to her pelt. It was Redfeather, the former medicine cat of WindClan, and the she-cat who had helped bring her into this world. She opened her jaws to speak, but the she-cat shushed her, a grim expression on her normally cheerful face. “You should listen well, Snowfur,” she said softly. “With this life, I give you trust, so your clan remains safe. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Not everyone is who they seem. Know that your warrior ancestors will never leave you, Snowfur. You must trust in them, and in yourself, to keep your clan safe.” The grim expression intensified as lightning seemed to race through Snowfur, electrifying her and burning it’s way into her body. She dug her claws into the ground, keeping her mouth shut even as the agony threatened to rip a yowl from her throat. Redfeather stepped away, looking sad and frightened and worried at the same time, though it was clear it was not over Snowfur. “Watch your back, watch your step. Tread carefully, my dear one,” she whispered, and then she was gone, and Snowfur was alone, her breath soughing in and out of her lungs.
It was then, and only then, that Blackstar swept forward, gliding soundlessly towards the she-cat and fixing her with a hooded stare. “Snowfur,” he said at last, as he came to stand in front of her. “With this life, I give you hope, so that you will continue on, even when the future seems bleak. Remember, Snowfur, even in the darkest of nights, there will always be light.” His muzzle pressed against hers, and Snowfur jerked back as a gentle feeling, like the cold, seeping chill of the breeze on the moors, slid through her fur, and into her heart, cooling her, and putting her at ease. She closed her eyes to absorb the feeling, and listened as Blackstar spoke. “I hail you now by your new name; Snowstar! Your old life is now no more, and you have received the nine lives of a leader. StarClan will watch over you and guide your steps as you watch over WindClan. Follow the warrior code, do what is right, live, and prosper. You are now the leader of WindClan!”
The voices rose above the silence following the proclamation, and Snowfur kept her eyes closed, basking, soaking in the sounds of the cats around her calling her name. “Snowstar! Snowstar! Snowstar!”
Snowstar wanted to open her eyes, to congratulate them, but when she finally did…all she saw was darkness. There was silence now; no cheering or chanting, no soft voices swirling around her. Nothing. “Blackstar?” she called. “Barkface? Stormscar?” But there was no answer. Only more darkness, and the faint echo of her own voice as it wavered back at her. “What is-” But her words were lost, drowned out in the roar of the rushing river. Snowstar turned, looking over her shoulder with wide, horrified eyes as a wall of water came barreling towards her. She tried to run, tried to flee, but the water swept her up, and around, and she was dragged into the currents and the waves as it filled her eyes, her ears and her lungs. It was thick, sticky, and…Oh, StarClan save her, it was blood! The terrified wailing and screeches of cats filled her ears, and she tried to cry for help, tried to call to Blackstar, to Echopool, to StarClan or anyone to save her, but the wails only grew louder and louder, until she was sucked beneath the current.
Her claws scrabbled for purchase on the bottom, but the pebbles below her gave way, floating around her and away from her, unable to save her, or help her out of this living nightmare. She opened her mouth to screech, to cry, but the pebbles were suddenly swimming in her vision, and Snowstar jerked her head as she tried in vain to escape them. Every time she managed to get a few meters away, the pebbles were swept along with her, surrounding her, brushing past her pelt and disappearing into the darkness of the river of blood. StarClan save me! She screamed in her head, when the sound of howling wind filled the din, whispers floating on the breeze, and Snowstar felt, despite being beneath the surface, the faint gentle touch of the wind that she loved so dearly. The whispers grew louder, calling to her, beckoning her, and suddenly, they filled her head, and Snowfur was powerless to stop them. “"Thunder, wind, shadow, and river will carry away the strangers until one is taken whole. Four will become five, five will become two."
Then a single voice, rising above the whispers, shouting, screaming at her. “Beware the decoys, Snowstar! Beware!”
Snowstar woke with a start, her paws flailing as she nearly tumbled into the Moonpool. She panted raggedly, her heart stuttering in her chest, and her eyes wide and frightened. What…what was that? What had that been? What could it be? She could still feel her pulse pounding, and she tried to gulp in deep lungfuls of air. She needed to get back to her Clan, and quickly. Already her fear for their safety was creeping over her, and gone were the misgivings of a she-cat who was about to be a leader. Snowstar was the leader, and she had to act like one now. Rising shakily to her paws, she winced when her body felt like she’d been tumbled down a cliff and then battered by a storm. But despite this., she forced her legs to move, to run, to carry her through her beloved moors back to her Clan. It was time to choose a deputy…and it was time to take her place as leader.
