Warriors: High Tides

Chapter 15

Rookheart was feeling good as they walked down the mountainside. The Tribe had sent an ambassador of their own - Ice That Cracks Under Paws, the first cat they'd met. He wondered if the Tribe would remember them when they returned to gather the half of the Clans that wanted to come to the New Territories.

He looked as Ice talked with Sun, the deputy-of-sorts for the Tribe. Sun seemed to solemn, so silent, so reflective. Snowclaw had been nothing like that - in fact, rather abrasive and quick to battle (no surprise in the state he was Deputy in). Sun was refreshing, honestly.

He watched as Gorsewhisker took the lead, feeling uneasy. He remembered, freshly, the battle the tomcat had started with the friendly queen that had nursed Harekit. Despite Gorsewhisker's misgivings, the youngster seemed much more excitable now than ever.

They hit a flat spot where grass stretched for a little while; a rocky plateu of sorts. The mountains were spread out curiously, and there was a pass through the mountains that made up the Tribe's territory. He flicked his tail nervously; something was amiss. He looked around, waiting for a fox or a badger to jump out at them.

"How long does it take for cats to get from here to the opening of the pass?" The rarely-spoken Ivystream meowed to Sun, who had taken the lead.

"Nobody knows," Sun meowed. "Nobody we know has ever been this far. Me and Ice will have been the first, and probably the only."

Rookheart had to respect that. The Clans hadn't yet been over the mountains until now - they didn't know what they would experience once they got out of the Pass. Would StarClan guide them still? Or was the Two Peaks the only space StarClan wanted them to go specifically?

He shrugged it off and walked beside Waspwhisker, thinking. "How are you feeling?" He asked the young queen.

"Better than before," She purred softly. "The resting at the Cave of Rushing Water made me feel much better. The presence of other queens makes me feel good."

Rookheart smiled and looked at her swollen belly, flicking his tail back and forth. I wonder what they'll look like? He mused, padding along through the soft mountain grass that grew in the Pass. I wonder who the father is?

"Waspwhisker..." He meowed, "I'm sure these kits have a father, but... let's be fair... it's unlikely they'll meet him."

"Yes," Waspwhisker said softly.

"I was wondering if... I could act as their father for them? We don't need to be in love. But they need to have two parents."

Waspwhisker nodded slightly, purring. "Yes, I would appreciate that, Rookheart," She purred happily. "Thank you."

Has there ever been a cat with parents that weren't mates? He wondered as they walked.

Harekit, who had been allowed to walk, trotted up to Waspwhisker with a new skip. "Hallo, Mommy."

Rookheart looked down in surprise, flicking his tail. I'm not surprised, he thought, She's the only queen here.

Suddenly Gorsewhisker ran up and scooped Harekit by the scruff, dragging him away from Waspwhisker scarily forcefully.

Sun eventually found them a small den just big enough for all of them to sleep comfortably. Rookheart stepped back to let Waspwhisker enter before him; however, Gorsewhisker interrupted, shoving into the den first.

Bramblefoot spoke up angrily. "Hey!" She cried out, "Be careful! Remember, she has kits, too!"

Gorsewhisker growled. "Those kits aren't exactly important," He hissed as he started grooming Harekit.

Rookheart felt his pelt bristle as he entered the den behind Waspwhisker. He curled up beside her, offering warmth to her belly for the growing kits within. He watched the other cats settle around them, cocking his head as Sun chose to curl with Bramblefoot.

He flicked his ear as he laid down, listening as Gorsewhisker spoke to Harekit.

"Remember, son," The father was saying, "None of these cats are more important than us."

"Why?" Harekit mewed innocently. "I like them."

"Well, you shouldn't." Gorsewhisker growled. "They're weaklings. They don't know how to take care of themselves. We're strong."

Rookheart wanted to hear more, but within moments he was asleep...

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Rookheart was back in ShadowClan's camp. He was a young kit, sitting beside his mother before his Apprentice Ceremony. He felt weird; he felt healthy, excited, filled! He hadn't felt this way since before he became a Warrior.

His mother groomed him, then scooped him up and placed him on the ground before the elderly leader, Cloudstar. He was entirely a fluffy white tom, with a dainty pink nose and gray-amber eyes.

"Rookkit," Cloudstar purred, "Are you ready to become an Apprentice?"

"Yes!" Rookkit squealed eagerly, heart pounding.

"Well," Cloudstar meowed, "You can't."

Rookheart- Rookkit- felt his heart fall into his paws, and he looked crestfallen at Cloudstar. "But..." He mewled, "Why? Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Cloudstar sighed, "But there's nobody to train you at the moment. All of our warriors are gone."

Rookkit turned and looked around. The Camp was silent and barren. There were young adult cats idling around, play-wrestling. They were horrifically thin, their ribs nearly tearing through their weak, starve-stretched skin. Their eyes were deep gray, and their claws were blunt with incorrect use.

"What... what happened?" He meowed.

"They all starved." Cloudstar meowed, looking at the deputy Mapleclaw. "Every one of them. All of these cats are still -kits." He sighed. "We can't teach them anything. I can't make them Warriors if they were never given proper training."

Rookkit whimpered softly. "Am I destined to stay a -kit forever?" He asked.

"I suppose the whole of ShadowClan is," Cloudstar sighed. "Once I die, Mapleclaw will end up with a Clan full of -kits." He said. "Nobody can teach them, so these cats can't teach their own." He said. "And when she dies, there will be no Leader anymore."

Rookkit felt sick to his stomach. ShadowClan was dying before his eyes, and he was destined to watch the whole thing happen. He would watch ShadowClan crumble in on itself, and slowly their members would disperse and ShadowClan would die off - and he would have nowhere to go. The other Clans wouldn't take in an adult who had the knowledge of a kit.

He curled up, silent; and he started to cry.

He would never be a Warrior.

He would be a Kit forever.