Blizzard [Warriors Fanfiction]

Chapter Nine

      "Frostpaw! I was looking for you!" Frozenpaw exclaimed in surprise after his littermate accidentally barreled into him. "Why are you off in such a hurry?"

      The she-cat made a half-hearted attempt to smooth down her fluffed up fur with her tail as she sent a distasteful glance in the direction she had just come. "Oh, er... it's nothing."

      Frozenpaw shook his head. "It can't be nothing."

      His sister heaved a sigh before sitting on the sodden grass. "My denmate, Thrushpaw, hates me. He kept taunting me in front of the other apprentices and called me a bloodthirsty charity case."

      "I know how you feel," Frozenpaw replied, sitting next to her.

      She cast a sideways glance of uncertainty. "Do you?" 

      He nodded. "Yes. Ever met Briarpaw at a Gathering? He's my own personal Thrushpaw." 

      She shook her head to clear it, sending beads of water everywhere. "It's not easy to live in a Clan when you don't have Clan blood."

      "It's not." He agreed. 

       The silence stretched for several heartbeats before Frostpaw broke it.

      "You never did tell me why you're here."

      Frozenpaw's ears perked as he remembered what he came to say. "Oh, right. I wanted to talk to you about FoxClan and DewClan's relationship."

      "As far as I know, there isn't one."

      "Exactly."

      "Your point?"

      "Our Clans aren't fighting, but they're not allies either. We need to change that."

      Frostpaw tilted her head in confusion. "What are you proposing?"

      The white tom gestured to the border a couple tree-lengths away with his tail. "FoxClan and DewClan must unite against the Northern Junkyard Cats."

      His sister gave him a look that asked are you mousebrained?  "But those rogues haven't affected either of our Clans! Flarestar and Russetstar aren't just going to become friends because of invaders in a different territory."

      "Which leads me to my plan," he said. "If what Storm said is true and the Junkyard Cats want to take back the kits they lost, they're going to attack either of our Clans eventually. We have to speed up that process." 

      "Are you suggesting we lure the rogues to our Clans?" Frostpaw's blue eyes were wide as if she was struggling to wrap her mind around Frozenpaw's idea.

      "That's exactly what I'm suggesting."

      Frostpaw stopped to consider. Frozenpaw anxiously hoped she'd agree; it would make for an easier process when proposing the plan to Icepaw and Snowpaw. As he waited tensely, he noticed a pair of glinting green eyes spying on them through a nearby bush. The pummeling rain must've disguised this mystery cat's scent. 

      "Well," Frostpaw finally said, "I-" 

      Frozenpaw cut her off by slapping his tail into her mouth. He pointed to the shrubbery with his muzzle and felt the she-cat freeze beside him. Slowly, he crept toward it from the side in a crouch. Once he was only mouse-lengths away, he shifted his weight forward and sprang.

      The unsuspecting cat let out a screech of surprise as Frozenpaw dragged him from his cover by the scruff.

      "Ripplepaw?" Frostpaw asked in astonishment. 

      "I can't believe you!" The tom was fairly large and had a light grey pelt with lighter tabby stripes. He looked at the two of us with a mixture of shock and anger written in his expression.

      "Ripplepaw-" Frostpaw was cut off.

      "After I defended you against Thrushpaw because in training I found out I might have a shot, you're really just prancing around with some FoxClan tom plotting to send rogues to our Clan!"

      Frozenpaw froze, realizing what this Ripplepaw assumed they were doing. He couldn't help but let out a mrrow of laughter. "Great StarClan! You actually think that Frostpaw and I have a forbidden relationship?"

      Ripplepaw blinked his green eyes in dismay. "Yes?"

      Frostpaw's tense stance immediately relaxed. "You couldn't be more wrong. We're littermates, mousebrain."

      "What?" Ripplepaw blurted in shock. "How in the name of StarClan is that even possible?"

      Frozenpaw sighed. This exchange told him that he'd have to explain how he and his siblings were related many times before the word fully spread. "Our parents were carrying us through a storm when we were newborn kits. They went under a boulder for shelter, which happened to be the border of all four Clans, and proceeded to die. Four dawn patrols showed up and disputed over who was to take us in until it was suggested that each kit goes to one Clan to prevent a fight."

      Ripplepaw's gaze flickered from Frostpaw's to Frozenpaw's, then back to Frostpaw's. "And all this is true?"

      "Every word of it," she replied steadily.

      The light tabby blinked in realization, taking a step back. After a heartbeat of stiff silence, his eyes narrowed.

      "This still doesn't justify the fact that you're trying to get rogues to attack our Clan," he hissed.

      "Face it, Ripplepaw," Frostpaw muttered very matter-of-factly. "The Northern Junkyard Cats are going to attack eventually, regardless of anything we do about it."

      "But we could warn Flarestar! We could be prepared, so no one dies!"

      Frostpaw shook her head. "How do you suppose we tell him? Walk up and say 'oh, by the way, I have some knowledge about a nearby group of rogues that might be necessary to protect the Clan. But don't ask how I got it because then you'll punish me for not telling you earlier!' I don't think so."

      The tension in the air was so obvious, Frozenpaw felt as though he could raise a claw and slice right through it. Frostpaw and Ripplepaw stared at one another, both refusing to be the one who breaks the intense eye contact first. The white tom began to uncomfortably shift his weight from side to side and decided he'd much rather be in his warm, cozy nest than arguing with a stubborn DewClan apprentice in the rain.

      "Come on, Ripplepaw," Frostpaw was practically begging. "Promise that you won't tell anyone about what we know. About the rogues and my siblings."

      The several moments in which Ripplepaw hesitated stretched into what seemed like moons. "Fine," he mewed, "I promise."