The Roaring Winds

Chapter Seven: Two Brothers

Chapter Seven: Two Brothers

The moon hung up high in the sky, its brilliant whiteness casting light onto the cats walking through the exposed RiverClan territory. This part of the terrain was not shaded by tall, looming willows and the reeds had begun to thin out at this point, slowly starting to turn into sharp, short moor grass that caused many RiverClan cats to wince in slight pain.

    "I swear, all of this moor grass is going to be the death of me," Pinepelt muttered ahead of Mossypaw. "Is there any other possible way that we could go to Four Trees that doesn't involve slicing open our paw pads?"

    Leafdrift formed a small smirk and purred to herself. "You've traveled this route countless times, yet that is the one question you always ask. I thought your tough paws would have adapted to it by now."

    Pinepelt's thick, tabby fur grew ruffled. "Well, I'm a pure-bred RiverClan warrior. My paws will never be fully adapted to the sharpness of the moor. It's a grave pain I'll have to endure for the rest of my days."

    Leafdrift simply snorted. "Okay, my brave warrior. Why don't we get out of the way of the others, and I'll lick your paws to get rid of the sting."

    Pinepelt's fur bushed up instinctively. "It's fine, we wouldn't want to be a hold-up."

    Leafdrift rolled her bright yellow eyes. "And this is how the argument always ends. You are rather ridiculous sometimes, Pinepelt."

    Pinepelt shrugged his broad shoulders. "I prefer to go by the definition of 'being able to articulately express the misgivings I have on this long journey.'"

    "In other words, you're being an embarrassed furball."

    Stonepaw snickered besides Mossypaw. "I can't believe that Pinepelt is letting himself get chewed out this badly by Leafdrift! They truly are meant for each other."

    Mossypaw shrugged. She did find their antics rather amusing, but the thought of romance just left a bad taste in her mouth. She never had a fondness toward it though she didn't know why. It was hard to explain, if it could be explained at all.

    "This is what I meant, Mossypaw. Look at Pinepelt. He can be a really great, funny cat to be around sometimes. You just have to get under his aggressive, stubborn shell."

    Mossypaw twitched an ear. "I guess."

    Stonepaw stifled a purr. "I think you also have a stubborn side. Maybe, that's why the two of you can struggle to get along!"

    Stonepaw looked over his shoulder. His pelt was as dark as the night, and he was almost invisible from a distance. He called out a greeting to someone behind him, and surely enough, Troutpaw bounded up to join them.

    "I'm so excited for the Gathering tonight! It'll be our first time, and we all get to go together?! It just makes tonight even more memorable," Troutpaw's voice was caught up in his awe. His gray tabby fur was lighter than Stonepaw's, but it blended into the moonlight. Mossypaw took an absent-minded glance at her own pelt, which easily blended into the shadows.

    I guess the three of us would be perfect for attacking at night. The thought brought alarm to Mossypaw's mind, and she quickly quieted it. There was a truce tonight, and she was not going to break it. How could she even think about bloodshed, anyways? The Clans seemed to be at peace, well more of a stalemate.

    "So, Mossypaw? What do you think you're going to do at the Gathering?" Stonepaw asked her, his crystal blue eyes lighting up in their dark surroundings.