A Promise Fulfilled ( Ghostcry )

[wildstar.]

And there they were again. It hadn't been long since he'd met Ghostcry, the former rogue but now deputy of ThunderClan. About two moons, to be exact. Now that she was a member of ThunderClan - no, more than that - it was time to take her to the Moonpool. A long, almost endless trek for a cat that has never been there before, but it shouldn't be a problem for the new deputy, who had traveled long distances before in the Twolegplace. The Clan still unfortunately didn't like or trust Ghostcry, which sent a small stab of sympathy to his heart. But she seemed to be coping with the anger and hatred directly pointed toward her, and handled it in a controlled, dominant way. Just like a Clan-born deputy would. She had accepted his invitation into the Clan, so she must have known that the cats - more specifically, the warriors - wouldn't like her at first. They just couldn't look past the fact that she used to be a loner. Wildstar, being more intelligent that the common cat, managed to see past that and look at the true personality of her.

They were leaving. The moon had just risen, and if they wanted to arrive in time when the moon reached the highest point in the sky, then they would have to leave now. "Come on, let's go, Ghostcry." He didn't bother to see if she was behind him or not. She was a big girl and could take care of herself if he somehow got way ahead of her. She could always use her nose. He meowed a swift goodbye to the warrior on guard, thankful that it wasn't Otterstrike, Ghostcry's worst enemy made so far. No, it was just one of the cat's who hadn't stated her opinion on whether or not she liked the new deputy or not, but still listened to her orders. At least that was better than most, Wildstar thought grimly. Then he turned away from the cat and trotted up the spiky thorn barrier, barely taking note of the brambles digging into his pelt. When he got to the top of the slope, he threw a few words over his shoulder. "This way." He gestured with his muzzle the way the Moonpool was and then set off.

He needed to collect his bearings, he thought. He was going to meet StarClan and most likely have a dream about decoys. No, he knew he would. Ghostcry - well, he wasn't sure what dream she would receive. Probably StarClan would accept her as one of the Clan and perhaps tell her whether or not she could join them after death. Surely she could? Although he wasn't sure, he hoped the subject never came up between the two of them. Just to be safe. Ghostcry was his friend and didn't want to see her get hurt. She was his second-hand cat; his adviser. The cat he turned to when decoys came, when something was troubling, or when he needed help. He couldn't wait until all of the Clans - especially ThunderClan - saw her as that. Time was flying by, he realized, and he stopped at the stream that marked the end of their territory. His yellow gaze followed the hard-packed earth that had many centuries of paw marks pressed down into the brown mud. It was the path to the Moonpool.

As he had promised, there they were.

[ghostcry]

The silvery she-cat heard her leader beckon her to leave, her head raising from her grooming at his voice and searching him out in the dark, locking on to the tabby tom with all the excitement of a kit told they could leave the nursery for the first time. Her tail lashed once and she hopped to her paws, giving her chest a final lick before padding away from the shadow of the highledge where she had been preparing for the trip.

"Coming, Wildstar!"

She meowed, and bounded after him as he squeezed through the thorn tunnel. Ghostcry offered the cat on guard a passing nod of greeting, grateful not to feel the cat's burning gaze bore into her back- it was one of the few cats that didn't want to line their nest with her soft silver, black dappled pelt. She herself squeezed through the brambles without much effort, the thorns barely raking her lithe body, emerging on the other side in the dark, silver lit forest. The moon wasn't yet full, but would be soon, and she would be once again tagging along as ThunderClan's wary deputy. Last moon, the cats had eyed her, taken aback and shocked, but said nothing until she was announced as their deputy. From that point on, even the cats from all the other clans had their threats and jibes that, just like within ThunderClan, she had learned to live with.

She padded on silently after her leader, her gaze low, her mind dwelling on all of the issues that had arisen in the past few moons, some that had dissipated without more turmoil, and some, like her acceptance, or lack there of, that still haunted her each day that she pushed along as strong as she could be- but she wouldn't, she couldn't let Wildstar down. She had accepted because she felt she could handle it, and there was no turning her back on the situation now.

Soon, the path below her paws became solid, and then hard packed earth, marked by paw marks. She followed it with her orange gaze, and then continued up it, moving along, the ground beneath her paws cold, until she emerged at the top, looking over a spring of crystal clear water, lit by the moonlight above. She raised her muzzle upwards, looking at the clear, star flecked sky above, and glancing at her leader, crouched next to it. She had been pre-warned of what to expect, what to do and how to do it, but the tremble in her muscles was more from nerves than the biting cold beneath her as she allowed her nose to just graze the edge of the pool.

Instantly, she was plunged into darkness, growing taunt and fearful, orange eyes wide as she drew into a compact bundle and peered into the darkness around her, her voice gone, her mind blank with fear. Slowly, the sky above, so silver and black in color with the night and the stars, began to shift and move. Stars don't move! What is this? They fell to the earth, glittering and shifting, and forming cats of all sizes, genders, ages and colors. She blinked at them, enraptured by their sudden appearance until a large, golden brown tom appeared, flanked by a grey and white tom. The golden tom raised his muzzle, speaking to the spooked Ghostcry.

"Welcome, Ghostcry. I am Thornstar, the former ThunderClan leader, and this is Thrushfur, my medicine cat." He didn't hesitate to continue speaking. "Fear not, young she-cat. You will make a fine deputy for my my own successor, and when you pass, you will join us for eternal bliss- we do not turn our back on our own, let alone now. A great wrong has been committed in the forest that was once my own, with the rise of these decoys- monstrosities of cats, truly, they kill for pleasure, for fun."

The tom's image swayed, as did Thrushfur's, as the other cats had already faded away. Suddenly, she was alone in the darkness of StarClan's forest, although Thornstar's voice still rang in her ears.

"They live among you, Ghostcry. You see them daily, as do all clans, and yet no one truly sees them. You look up to them. Down on them. You can love them, and you can hate them, for they are cats, decoy warriors hidden amoung our own ranks..."

His voice was fading, even as it only entered her mind. As it faded, warmth rose around her paws, a thick current taking her, tugging at her fur. She glanced down in horror as she realized it was blood that was dragging her away like a river, Thornstar's voice was suddenly light, but urgent in her head. Everything began to go dark as she was swallowed by the current, his parting words paring with an image of four cats- familiar shapes, cats she knew she should know, but their faces were masked in blood, their pelts smeared with it, making them unknown to her. They stood over a pile of those murdered- cats she did recognize- cats that she knew were alive within ThunderClan, and on top of the pile, one bloodied, living cat threw their head up and cackled with pleasure at the carnage.

"Thunder, wind, shadow, and river will carry away the strangers until one is taken whole. Four will become five, five will become two."

Everything was dark again, and she could feel the cold ground beneath her, and the cool water on her muzzle, although her eyes were skewed shut. Her pelt felt heavy and hot, sticky with unshod blood that didn't truly exist. The voice faded with a final hiss.

"Don't you see? Everyone will die..."

[wildstar.]

Without wasting a precious moment, Wildstar galloped steadily up the slope with a particular orange-eyed cat trailing behind him. Ghostcry seemed quite eager to finally get to see the Moonpool, so after a moments hesitation, he continued on his path. The last time he'd been to this part of WindClan territory he'd been receiving his nine lives and name from StarClan. It seemed like such a long time ago that he'd nearly drown in a sticky river of blood and got the ominous warning from his leader. That apparently four would become five and five would become two. Whatever that meant. As he trotted up the hill with his striped tail held high, he realized that that part of the prophecy could be about the Clans. Four Clans... but what was the five all about? And how could five reduce to two? Everything was confusing the ThunderClan leader - with these deadly decoys and all. I know for sure that I'm one of four on the top killing list for the decoys. Me, Hawkstar, Snowstar, and Crimsonstar. But what Wildstar didn't know was that Crimsonstar was in fact a decoy. No, she was leading them, which was even worse. A Clan leader leading decoys... it was despicable.

When Wildstar and his deputy reached the Moonpool, they both immediately went over to the water's edge to dip their noses in the sweet, clear liquid. He looked over at Ghostcry, hoping to give her a few encouraging words, but it seemed like she'd already had her water and was lulled into sleep. A purr rumbled in his throat. She seemed so eager, like a kit fresh out of the nursery! But he knew better than to even think of her like that, so he turned his head and lapped up a few mouthfuls of the cold water. As if it were drugged, he was knocked out unconscious a few heartbeats later. It was all blackness at first, and he thought that maybe StarClan didn't have anything to share with him and coming to the Moonpool had been a mistake on his part. But when his bright yellow eyes reopened, he saw the ThunderClan camp. A sharp pain of disappointment stabbed his heart like a thorn. His ancestors surely wouldn't tell him anything in the heart of his home. No, they would do it in StarClan or at the Moonpool. But they must have been sending him something, otherwise he would still be in the darkness, right?

As he was thinking, he saw two cats step out of the shadows of the Highledge. He looked up, not having a clue who it could be since he was right here. He was expecting Thornstar above any other cat, since he was the leader before Wildstar. But what he saw sent a shiver down his spine. It was him. No... wait, it was him. An older version of him by far. The tabby's fur was lighter, tail thinner, eyes colder, muzzle whiter. But his shoulders were held high with no fear and high dominance. It was Wildstar... only it wasn't. Like what I will be in the future... he thought in awe. What would happen if he met this new Wildstar? StarClan probably wouldn't allow it. This was, after all, just a dream. And next to him was Ghostcry! She looked a lot older than she did now, too. Only she, too, held herself with high dominance, bright orange eyes fierce yet calming at the same time. As he peered closer at her, he realized that maybe she wasn't much different from the Ghostcry he shared dens with. Well, she seemed a lot younger than the hardened, old Wildstar did that was just right next to her. Leadership ages a cat twice as fast, he recalled Thornstar telling him on his deathbed.

They leaped down from the high rock together. Always together. They moved with such grace that he thought that maybe they were one cats instead of two. The Clan, as if on signal, gathered around to greet them. It seemed strange, watching all of the ThunderClan cats welcoming Ghostcry with eager smiles, lit eyes, and perked ears. So much different from how they acted now that Wildstar actually did believe that a lot of time passed. He was about to turn away, since he was quite bored of this scene, when he noticed two things. It wasn't that the old versions of him and his deputy had their tails intertwined and their eyes were focused on only each other with some sort of strange expression brightening their gazes. It was the few cats, somehow 'darker' than the rest, hanging back. Half of the Clan in number. And they all didn't look too happy.

Worst of all, their claws were unsheathed.

[ghostcry]

Ghostcry recoiled suddenly from the water, as if it had bitten her, the stench of blood that she sworn was there fading away as the ghostly cats had. Her eyes were wide, her orange gaze fixed on the shimmering water that swayed gently from her quick escape, but soon settled, as did her nerves. Her claws were unsheathed, scraping the frozen earth, and her body trembled slightly in terror. She noted that Wildstar was still dreaming, crouched by the pool, and she knew she was safe from her dream, slowly allowing her stiff body to relax.

She sat still, eyeing the smooth water as the moon began to set, not moving until she felt the chill begin to creep into her bones. Rising to her paws, she shook herself and began to lap hastily at her fur, smoothing her black splotched grey pelt, as well of mentally cleansing herself of the nightmare that had been her dream. StarClan had showed her it, hadn't they? That spoke miles- and if she wanted to look positively at it, they had accepted her into their ranks as a clan cat. She was truly ThunderClan's deputy, and no cat could now dissuade her that it was her true place, she had never meant to be a loner in twolegplace anyhow.

No matter her bright thoughts, however, she was aware to the darkness that had settled over the dream- a river of blood, so much massacre and murder, the decoys rising to power, standing over their pile of death, their leader perched atop it. It screamed pure evil, it told her how their lives were on the line. What was there truly to hope for if they didn't even know who it was that was such a threat? If her dream had told her anything, it only reinforced the fact that the decoys, those cats who were murdering everyone who crossed their paths, were not imaginary. They were not creatures hiding in the shadows of the forest, nor rogues and loners staging an uprising. They were clan cats. They could be any of the cats that jeered and mocked her, or those in ThunderClan who hissed and eyed her with murderous intent- there was no way for the pale she-cat to be able to tell the difference between an untrustworthy clanmate, or a cold blooded killer that wanted her as their next victim.

Shuddering, she backed away from the pool and Wildstar, shooting her leader a final glance before turning and bounding down the path, as if she could outrun her nightmare and the darkness she felt hanging over her head at the moonpool. As the path faded back into moorgrass beneath her paws, she slid to a halt and stopped, scrambling up a smooth boulder resting in the fading moonlight, she huddled against the cool and wrapped her tail around her paws, tilting her head skyward to stare at silverpelt, slowly disappearing with the night. Oh StarClan, what do you want with me? What can I do about these Decoys?

[wildstar.]

They hung back in the shadows, those cats with hunger for power in their eyes. Their claws flexed in union, as if they, too, were one cat rather than many. Wildstar, the younger version of himself, noticed that they didn't look pleased that their leader and deputy had aroused, but instead, they looked cold and angry. Very angry. Like they would claw someone's ears off if they merely looked at them. Then his golden eyes focused on the older Wildstar and saw that his head was turned toward those cats as well. As if he was feeling himself do it, he knew that the old Wildstar had his eyes narrowed with suspicion, although he allowed no other cat - besides Ghostcry - to notice it. She, too, didn't look at them immediately, but as he turned away, she stole a quick glance. As if they had yowled it to the world, he knew what they were thinking. Decoys. The only thing that they could be was a decoy. So they're getting more powerful. I mean, they want power more, and they're starting to show themselves out to the rest of the world. A stab of fear pierced his heart. He knew that he would be ThunderClan's number one target without a doubt. He had to be more careful from now on. Never go out alone, especially in the middle of the night. Even though he had nine lives - and that he kept on forgetting - he couldn't let the decoys take one precious one from him. It would cause havoc.

Ghostcry and Wildstar organized the daily patrols. The real Wildstar took notice that many of the cats looked older, but most he didn't recognize at all. There was Stormbelly, who looked just as old as Ghostcry. She'd probably a respected senior warrior by this time. It looked as if a couple of years - maybe two winters - had passed. There was a much bigger cat that looked like Harmonypaw standing next to a maximized Dawnkit. Most of the other cats must have been born after Wildstar's actual occurring time, because most of the others he couldn't place a name to the pelt. Then he saw, much to his surprise, the cats who he assumed to be decoys run out from the blackness and join the rest of the Clan, their eyes sparkling like normal loyal, eager Clan warriors. Now that he got a better look at them, he noticed that some were huge - heavier and wider than him - and some were kit-sized. No, they were kits. Decoys are recruiting kits!? The thought seemed so outrageous to him. What could a decoy want with an innocent, pure little kit who was supposed to mean nothing but good? To ruin them of that right. To take it. Show them that the world was meant to be a terrible, bloody place, he thought angrily. How horrid that was!

"You're correct, young leader." A cat stalked out of the brambles as if they were nonexistent. "It is called poisoning. They poison a young kit - preferably one that is three moons or younger - so they can turn them into a bloodthirsty mongrel. It could have been you, Wildstar. Those kits are innocent until they decide to accept who they are, a decoy, by making their first kill. Do not punish those who were poisoned and don't want to be a decoy, Wildstar. There are a select few who may seem like they are a real decoy, but are only in disguise to make the real decoys think they are one so they don't get killed." The cat, who he recognized as Thrushfur, padded even closer to him. He was surprised that it wasn't Thornstar, but he recalled that he had screeched at the leader awhile ago, after death, that he hated him because he was a decoy. Thornstar had tried to tell him that it was against his will, but Wildstar hadn't believed him. Now a prickle of shame scratched his chest. So that had happened to the former ThunderClan leader. No wonder why the decoys hadn't tried to kill him. Well, hadn't killed him. They thought that he was a real decoy. "I see that you've thought of that. Maybe you should apologize to your mentor some time. I bet you'd both appreciate it. As your medicine cat - former - I advice it, young one." As Wildstar looked up, he noticed a good-natured wink come from the other tom. "I just visited Ghostcry." His voice was heavy and sad. A shot of fear and anger ripped through him. And protection. He had to protect the ThunderClan deputy. "Go to her now." Then the dream blurred then faded altogether.

He awoke, and his eyes immediately flew wide open. He noticed that Ghostcry's sleeping place was empty. And not to mention cold. "Ghostcry!" he yowled. What if a decoy had gotten to her? Killed her, even! He raced away, barely remembering to follow her scent. If his dream was true - and he thought it had been since Thrushfur had been in it - then they were destined to be mates. He didn't want to loose her, and he'd felt protective of her even before receiving it. Wildstar caught whiffs of her smell and followed it hurriedly. It lead on the windblown grass, thankfully not too deep into WindClan territory. When he saw her, safe and sound, a loud breath of relief sounded from his nostrils. "Ghostcry," he murmured softly, gaze softening from worry to a flash of delight and warm relief. She was sitting on a flat, silver-gray rock, her head up in the stars like she was thinking deeply. Or praying to the holy Clan above them. He said nothing more, just padded up to her and sat next to the black dappled pelt that he called his deputy. Shouldn't she be cold or something? His fur pressed lightly against her's. Warming it as needed, but not too much if she was feeling uncomfortable. After another moment, Wildstar sputtered very softly, "I thought you were gone..." He didn't manage to utter the last word, but he thought that maybe Ghostcry would guess it. Forever.

[ghostcry]

She had been so engrossed in the fading night sky and the stary cats there who had visited her in her sleep, she didn't notice Wildstar until she registered pawsteps on the rock she rested on. Looking up and watching him, she couldn't help but wonder what he had dreamed of. Did Thornstar visit him too? Or Thrushflight? What news had they brought? Thoughts and questions clouded her mind until she felt his pelt press warmly against hers.

At first, she thought that she must of looked quite cold, hence the sudden closeness, but at the same time, she felt the slowly relaxing of his tense muscles, the fear that was slowly leaving his eyes. He had been worried about her? She couldn't remember the last time anyone had worried for her well being. Too long. She pressed against him as he spoke, brushing her tail down his spine as she purred affectionately in his ear.

"You can't get rid of me that easily, you stupid furball."

His warmth and companionship was welcomed, as not only did it give her the company and care she needed, but she truly enjoyed this tomcat. Few other cats would give her the time of day, but he had come along into her life, thrust her up on a pedalstal, and obviously cared enough to worry for her. She closed her eyes as she relaxed into his warm pelt, the cold leeching from her and leaving her feeling comfortable and happy, pressing her cheek into his shoulder and laying still, purring contently as the sun began to creep into the sky, sending streaks of red and pink into the darkness.

"Should we head back to the clan now?"

[wildstar.]

Ghostcry was here, so she couldn't be gone forever. Forever was such a long time. Something in his gut told him that part of her was missing, but he refused to show his worries to her. I wonder what she dreamed of, he thought briefly. He decided not to dwell too much on the subject, then concentrated on his deputy. Just his deputy. For a moment, he wondered if she even liked him as a friend. True, they slept in the same den, but maybe she just didn't feel truly accepted by the warriors to sleep with them yet? Wildstar twitched his whiskers skeptically, yellow eyes shifting to look at her face. A purr rumbled in his chest and she pushed up against him and spoke. He felt her tail waving along his spine, and it made his heart dance. "I know," he purred. But somehow he didn't know. All he knew was that Ghostcry had been sleeping when he had laid down beside the Moonpool, then she had disappeared when he'd awoken. It seemed like she had left without a trace. Had she not been accepted by StarClan? Did they not approve of her being the ThunderClan deputy? When death came, was she not going to join the starry ancestors in the sky? A stab of pain hit him so hard that he had to take a moment to catch his breath. What would happen if... that did happen?

He had only snapped out of fear and pain when Ghostcry settled her cheek on his broad shoulder, which was like a cure. It was better than medicine. He began to purr again, loud and steady. The leader noticed that the sun had already started to rise above the horizon, setting off sparks of pink and purple near WindClan's camp. Time seemed to skip when he'd been at the Moonpool, because last time he'd checked, it had been in the middle of the night. When he heard Ghostcry speak, he just wished that he could freeze that moment. Them together. It seemed perfect. "Not unless you want to do something else," he meowed quietly with a small smile. His yellow eyes seemed to purr along with his throat. "If you're up for a little mischief... We could do something we're not supposed to."


OOC: So sorry! For the lateness, and that Wildstar sounds dirty when he's saying that. He's trying to say that they could venture a little bit further into WindClan territory or actually play in the water in the Moonpool. Or something else lol

[ghostcry]

She leaned against him, reveling in his warmth, and in the sound of his voice rumbling in his chest as he spoke, his strong heartbeat not far from her ear. She rubbed her jaw against him as he spoke, dwelling on his offer to do something mischievous that they simply shouldn't do, and for all of the tight lipped, serious conversations that she had in camp, the daily routine that could not be broken, his offer was music to her ears. She padded forward, flicking his jaw with her tail as she hopped of the rock. She turned to face him, her gaze sly and playful.

"As a former rouge, mischief is something I completely understand."

She purred and glanced around, the padded back towards him, keeping herself very quiet as she climbed back up the rock, pressing in close to him, her muzzle near his ear as she spoke in a conspirator's whisper to her leader.

"And my own dirty little secret? I love myself a fair bit of mischief."

She pulled away from him, and hopped back down the rock. She was desperately trying to push away the remnants of her dream, the blood, the horrors of murder, the only bright thing being StarClan's acceptance. She could only wonder if Wildstar's dreams had been any brighter. Sitting neatly in the grass, she peered back up at him, her eyes warm and welcoming as she spoke again.

"So tell me, my dear Wildstar, what sort of mischief do you suggest we partake in this morning, hm? What sort of entertainment do you wish to stir up?"

[wildstar.]

A little bit of mischief would brighten his mood and make his mind set on Ghostcry, not the Clan. They were supposed to be future mates, right? For another moment he wondered what she had dreamed of. Was it the same as his dream? Or had it been something entirely different? Thrushfur had said that he visited Ghostcry shortly before, so maybe she had the dream where they were side-by-side, yet in a sea of bloodthirsty decoys. The thought made him happy but nervous. What if she didn't think of him like that, but just as a friend? Or even worse: her leader, or just the cat that invited her into ThunderClan? It couldn't be true; he had to think positive thoughts about their relationship. If she truly didn't like him, wouldn't she have insisted that they go home immediately - like a "good" deputy would do - before anything happened between the two of them? Wildstar shook himself, then focused his yellow gaze on his deputy.

He watched Ghostcry jump on and off of the rock and listened to her talk, still wishing time would somehow freeze. These few precious moments that they had together were beautiful. They hadn't had time alone since they first met, and it felt like seasons ago. Wildstar had to admit that she was a wonderful deputy. She took care of the Clan well and showed them the right manners. She handled them greatly and saw no sort of grudge against the warriors. True, most of them still hated her because of her origins, but soon they would get over it and accept her. No cat had been a rogue then suddenly been promoted to deputy in a long time - he couldn't even remember his elders telling him a story of the past with something like that. There were similar cases - Fireheart, the cat who saved the Clans, Brambleclaw, the son of the most evil cat in the forest. No cat in history is evil after these decoys. Who knows, if we defeat them, maybe Ghostcry and my own name will go down and presented to every kit generations from now for what we do with this situation.

"Of course you would." His smile was wide and sly. "I should know, too, because we were all kits once, right? I can't remember a time I wasn't pulling a prank on an older cat when I was younger," Wildstar purred. "Mischief if my middle name." He leaped off of the rock and into the long WindClan grass with her. "Whatever it be. You name it, I'll lead you there." His voice was very sincere - as if there had more meaning behind the words. He paused for a moment, then a grin took up his whole face. "I know the perfect thing to do. We could do what you want to after we try out mine. Do you like water?"