Warriors: What Is There To Do?

Chapter 20- The Shiny Things

The morning she woke up, Splitpaw could already tell it was going to be a bad day. Maybe it was her pelt, which both she and Bonepaw had cleaned the night before, which was now looking even messier than it had been. Maybe it was her head, which was pounding like a heartbeat behind her ears.

Either way, the sky — a stormy grey with bitter winds making it feel like they were hairless — matched her mood exactly.

Of course, everyone else was absolutely spectacular.

"Hey Splitpaw!" Bravepaw called her over, once she finally got up from her nest. She could barely keep her eyes open, but she dragged her paws over to where the rest of the apprentices were and practically collapsed onto the ground, only bothering to nod when Driftpaw passed her part of a mouse.

"We were just discussing what warrior names we will get! Hey, Splitpaw, don't you think that Braveswipe is an awesome name or what?!"

"Yeah, it's amazing," she muttered. She didn't want to be rude, but she just wanted to... be asleep.

Bravepaw, being the mouse-brain that he is, wasn't fazed at her unenthusiastic response in the slightest.

"Hey, guys, what would be a good name for Splitpaw?"

There was a mixture of amusement and uncomfortableness as they glanced at each other, Bonepaw, Driftpaw, and Moonpaw.

"Bravepaw... this isn't a good id—"

"Oh, be quiet, Driftpaw, and let me think up of a good one! It's no fun with her, though... it's obvious that her name's 'gonna be Splitface..."

Moonpaw, looking.... like something, just peeked at her before filling his vision with a half-eaten frog. Driftpaw huffed, too bothered by Bravepaw's rudeness to defend Splitpaw. Bonepaw was trying to think of something to say to her, glaring at Bravepaw, but before he could speak empty words of comfort she felt her body push herself off the hard ground and towards the forest.

"Splitpaw, wait—"

"Leave me alone."

Splitpaw was lost. What was wrong with her today? She felt so... real. No, not real... but the feelings that she felt for her mother, father, Riverclan... she just woke up not being able to hold them back. It shocked her how hard it had been to hold them inside of her head, like a fox stuck in brambles, rearing its ugly head at the slightest sound.

She barely felt her paws hit the pine strewn forest floor as her trot turned into a run, her head tucking into her chest to protect her eyes and snout from the low hanging pine needles as she sped towards... nowhere.

Riverclan... she didn't have words for that clan. No kind words at least. Splitpaw had done nothing wrong but be born, and she had been shunned, ignored, isolated, and hated. She grew up thinking that she was evil, an abomination.

She still remembers that day too.

She had been cleaning her pelt like she had been for the past five moons. Splitpaw swore, if she padded outside she would be painful to look at directly, her fur would reflect the light of the sun.

She thought her fur would look just like the Shiny Things.

The Shiny Things appeared in her nest when she woke up from a stressful night's sleep after the lightning made her squeal and eventually pass out from exhaustion. When she woke the next day, there were little pieces of the Shiny Things in front of her, arranged in a perfect little circle.

At first, when she was younger, she thought they were from Starclan. Were they sending them to her to make sure that she would believe in them? To tell her that there was a prophecy to come about her?

But as the moons went by and she went from a little kit to... well, a bigger kit, she knew that these weren't from her starry ancestors. Who, she didn't know, but just... not them.

It would take more than Shiny Things to make her forgive them for making her so ugly.

The Shiny Things were small, probably about the size of her little kit claws, thin and flakey. Sometimes, when she had groomed her pelt so much she was impressed that she wasn't stiff, she would lick her sore tongue across her paw, press it up against the little pile of Shiny Things in the corner of the Nursery and try to catch her reflection.

Was she really so ugly after all? The reflections with the tiny pieces were horrible, disordered and bumpy, but she didn't look bad... the cats in Riverclan had pretty plain pelts. Was it not refreshing to have a cat with more than amber or golden eyes and black, tan, or white fur?

Eventually she had started to question even her own thoughts. If her face was messed up, why not her thoughts too? Maybe her very mind was ugly. Maybe she would be like Tiger, the tom that Skyheart told her about, before she had opened her different eyes

Once upon a time there had been a cat called Tiger. He had been a very bad cat. He didn't like listening to the leader, so he left Windclan and went to Thunderclan, where he killed kits and made cats very sad. One day Tiger got what was coming and he died under Starclan's words of justice.

The end.

Splitkit had worried her end would be from sadness.