Post by Leafshadow on Aug 11, 2010 16:03:47 GMT -5
Found this Bluestar fanfiction on my computer. I don't even remember writing it. xP Enjoy! It's about the time between Bluestar has her kits/becomes deputy. Now I know it isn't the official story, but it's a fanfic. And I wrote it like a year and a half ago. SO--the writing isn't great.
//choice.
“Tawnyspots is what?’ A bluish-gray she-cat mewed anxiously, light sky-blue eyes dilated wide and fear, yet the other calm tortoiseshell apprentice didn’t seem to notice one bit.
“Yeah, I know.” The small medicine cat apprentice snorted, easily gossiping and enjoying the time with a real warrior. She spat out a few brittle, dry herbs from her jaws that carried the dusty scent that medicine cats usually carried around. After all, they were in the midst of a tough leaf-bare, so it only made sense that all of the herbs were old and dehydrated.
During leaf-fall, the plants had begun to grow old and scarce, meaning that they were only being useD when it was absolutely necessary. Like now.
Since the queen had just recently given birth to three healthy kits not a few moonrises ago, Bluefur definitely deserved to be able to use some of them.
“B-But she can’t be! Not so soon…” Bluefur desperately mewed, and then turned down her voice a few octaves until it was a soothing purr. Her three newly born kits were finally resting for once, and the queen really didn’t want to disturb their rest.
“She’s our deputy, for Starclan’s sake. It’s been that way as long as I can remember… “ The she-cat ranted, obviously distressed at the whole concept. “She can’t retire. Not now!”
The tortoiseshell cat, Spottedpaw, was curled up beside the gray cat, head on her paws, and light, creamy pink nose sniffing the air curiously. Obviously, she had no response at all to Bluefur’s anxiety, nor did she have anything to sooth it.
“Here,” Spottedpaw finally mewed, pushing a stack of herbs carefully towards the queen. “The black ones on top are called Poppy Seeds, and will help with the pain. I think.” She said, then pointed vaguely with her tail towards another, more leafy herb.
“And that one,” She mewed, distantly racking her brain for the herb’s name and use. “It is…” Spottedpaw momentarily blanked, gazing into space vacantly.
Gratefully, Bluefur used a soft pink paw pad and stuck two small black seeds close to her mouth, and was about to swallow when the apprentice interjected urgently.
“Wait!” She said, whiskers quivering as she batted away the gray paw. “I just remembered that Poppy Seeds aren’t good for nursing queens. Sorry!” Spottedpaw looked genuinely concerned, eyes widened and tears threatening to form in the corners of her eyes.
“What a medicine cat I’ll make.” She grumbled, tail flicking angrily.
Bluefur, being the caring cat she was, immediately comforted the apprentice.
“Shh..” She whispered, nudging the cat on the flank with her slick tail. “It’s all right. I didn’t eat them. You need to stop being so hard on yourself. I’m sure you’ll make a great medicine cat with a little practice, Spottedpaw.”
The other she-cat looked down, still embarrassed from her mistake. “Borage Leaves,” She eventually whispered, remembering what she could about the plant. “Great for increasing milk supply.”
“That’s all I’ll need, thanks.” Bluefur meowed, pushing away the rest of the stack gracefully.
Bluefur nodded her head slightly, unblinking and inattentive. Her mind seemed to be occupied, focused on something other than her kits in front of her. Spottedpaw gathered all of her stack, except for one of the borage leaves.
“Take it if you need it,” She mewed, eyes lowered and mysteriouS.
“Sure.” Bluefur said, hooking it with and outstretched paw.
Putting on the best face she could, the queen began to digest the bitter tasting leaf, and in the process almost spitting it all over Spottedpaw’s face.
Just as she was about to leave Bluefur all alone to fret over her current situation, the she-cat turned around so that she was facing the blue-gray queen. Quickly, she dropped her herbs and rushed back to Bluefur’s flank.
Her eyes wide, she whispered a question to the queen.
“What are their names?”
Startled, Bluefur turned her head around.
“I thought you were leaving.”
“Well, you know, since I’ll never have kits of my own….” Spottedpaw trailed off awkwardly, her apprentice status really showing through.
Bluefur closed her eyes softly, letting the darkness of the nursery engulf her vision. She lowered her delicate rosy nose to the hard ground, identifying each kit by their individual, unique scent.
“This one,” She purred, nudging a light blue-gray tom similar to her. He blinked awake revealing bright, curious eyes, and then closed them, as kits don’t fully see for moonrises. “His name is Stonekit, for the dark color of his fur.”
Spottedpaw nodded her approval, eager for more.
“This one,” Her careful nose moved on to a delicate she-cat, the only one of the litter. Her sleek light gray fur, almost pale, was a few shades lighter than her brother’s, and still way lighter than Bluefur’s. “Her name will be Mistykit, for she reminds me of the thick fog that sometimes cloaks the banks of the river…” She spoke, her last words softer, more longing.
Again, Spottedpaw didn’t read any of her obvious body language signs, or give any indication that she’d heard.
“And as for the last one…” Bluefur blinked open her piercing blue eyes; almost at the same time the tom blinked open his, revealing leafy-green irises. “His name is Mosskit, in honor of his beautiful eyes.”
“Beautiful.” Spottedpaw said, somewhat jealous. “All of them are.”
The medicine cat apprentice turned to leave, grabbing her supplies with a low swoop of the head.
“Oh—and Spottedpaw?” Bluefur mewed.
“Yes?” Spottedpaw asked through clenched teeth.
“Can you keep their names to yourself for now? I want to keep it a surprise for the rest of the clan.”
“Of course, Bluefur.” The other she-cat winked before heading out of the den. Too softly for her to hear, Bluefur sighed in confusion.
“Oh, Starclan.” She whispered, nuzzling her kits carefully before turning to sleep right along side them.
Holding on, and the days drag on.
Bluefur didn’t know when Tawnyspots would retire.
She didn’t know if it would be that night, or if it was a moon away.
All that mattered, that hung in the balance for that queen, all that she really cared about were her kits.
Her kits.
The ones who would die early from unnecessary wars and battles waged on other clans if he became deputy.
Thistleclaw.
The ambitious dark tabby tom that clearly wanted to be leader just as much as she did. No, she could never, ever let that happen. Not as long as she lived, as long as she had fangs and claws.
But would Sunstar? That, she didn’t know.
It had been nearly a quarter moon since Spottedpaw had chatted with her. Since then, the queen had mostly been keeping her herself, snapping and hissing at any other warriors that dared to peek in.
My kits. Bluefur thought, looking down at the darkest colored one, Mosskit. If only you knew, Oakheart. If only you knew that you have two sons and a beautiful daughter. If only you knew that all went well, that the kits I’ve been expecting—your kits—are healthy and strong.
Bluefur checked on the three huddled bodies before rising from her stiff crouch in the warm, fresh bead of moss. She stretched; silvery paws extending and claws silently unsheathing, then resheathing when she had finished.
With one last yawn, the warrior queen stuck her head out into the fresh evening air, looking up at the sky. The moon had already begun to rise on the edge of the horizon, a dark black hole in the sky.
A new moon.
Not good.
No, not tonight! Bluefur frantically thought, fur all riled up. Tonight, under normal circumstances, she would meet Oakheart, deputy of Riverclan, at the banks of the river and share tongues for the majority of the night.
Suddenly, a loud meow, the meow of Sunstar, broke through her thoughts and interrupting them loudly.
It started out with the familiar clan greeting.
“May all cats—“
Bluefur didn’t wait for the rest. She lay cautiously at the entrance of her den, watching the center of camp from there. Cats began to emerge from their dens, stretching and yawning. It was dusk, after all.
When most of the clan had gathered near the leader, Sunstar motioned for Tawnyspots to step forward.
“Thunderclan,” The ginger tom mewed, voice echoing throughout the forest. “Tonight, we honor a very special warrior, who has served our clan for many seasons. “
“Tawnyspots,” Sunstar meowed, lowering his head slightly. “Is it your wish to give up the name of a warrior and join the elders?”
“It is,” The now former deputy replied, relief flooding through her.
“Your clan honors you and all the service you have given us. I call upon Starclan and all of my warrior ancestors to give you many seasons of rest.”
“Thank you,” Tawnyspots whispered before disappearing into the crowd. Making it as far as an Elder was an accomplishment most cats didn’t live to see.
“As for Thunderclan’s new deputy…” Sunstar said, keeping the clan’s attention. “That will be announced at moonhigh.”
“Moonhigh…” Bluefur echoed to herself as the small gathering disbanded. “That’s how long I have until Thistleclaw becomes deputy…”
//choice.
“Tawnyspots is what?’ A bluish-gray she-cat mewed anxiously, light sky-blue eyes dilated wide and fear, yet the other calm tortoiseshell apprentice didn’t seem to notice one bit.
“Yeah, I know.” The small medicine cat apprentice snorted, easily gossiping and enjoying the time with a real warrior. She spat out a few brittle, dry herbs from her jaws that carried the dusty scent that medicine cats usually carried around. After all, they were in the midst of a tough leaf-bare, so it only made sense that all of the herbs were old and dehydrated.
During leaf-fall, the plants had begun to grow old and scarce, meaning that they were only being useD when it was absolutely necessary. Like now.
Since the queen had just recently given birth to three healthy kits not a few moonrises ago, Bluefur definitely deserved to be able to use some of them.
“B-But she can’t be! Not so soon…” Bluefur desperately mewed, and then turned down her voice a few octaves until it was a soothing purr. Her three newly born kits were finally resting for once, and the queen really didn’t want to disturb their rest.
“She’s our deputy, for Starclan’s sake. It’s been that way as long as I can remember… “ The she-cat ranted, obviously distressed at the whole concept. “She can’t retire. Not now!”
The tortoiseshell cat, Spottedpaw, was curled up beside the gray cat, head on her paws, and light, creamy pink nose sniffing the air curiously. Obviously, she had no response at all to Bluefur’s anxiety, nor did she have anything to sooth it.
“Here,” Spottedpaw finally mewed, pushing a stack of herbs carefully towards the queen. “The black ones on top are called Poppy Seeds, and will help with the pain. I think.” She said, then pointed vaguely with her tail towards another, more leafy herb.
“And that one,” She mewed, distantly racking her brain for the herb’s name and use. “It is…” Spottedpaw momentarily blanked, gazing into space vacantly.
Gratefully, Bluefur used a soft pink paw pad and stuck two small black seeds close to her mouth, and was about to swallow when the apprentice interjected urgently.
“Wait!” She said, whiskers quivering as she batted away the gray paw. “I just remembered that Poppy Seeds aren’t good for nursing queens. Sorry!” Spottedpaw looked genuinely concerned, eyes widened and tears threatening to form in the corners of her eyes.
“What a medicine cat I’ll make.” She grumbled, tail flicking angrily.
Bluefur, being the caring cat she was, immediately comforted the apprentice.
“Shh..” She whispered, nudging the cat on the flank with her slick tail. “It’s all right. I didn’t eat them. You need to stop being so hard on yourself. I’m sure you’ll make a great medicine cat with a little practice, Spottedpaw.”
The other she-cat looked down, still embarrassed from her mistake. “Borage Leaves,” She eventually whispered, remembering what she could about the plant. “Great for increasing milk supply.”
“That’s all I’ll need, thanks.” Bluefur meowed, pushing away the rest of the stack gracefully.
Bluefur nodded her head slightly, unblinking and inattentive. Her mind seemed to be occupied, focused on something other than her kits in front of her. Spottedpaw gathered all of her stack, except for one of the borage leaves.
“Take it if you need it,” She mewed, eyes lowered and mysteriouS.
“Sure.” Bluefur said, hooking it with and outstretched paw.
Putting on the best face she could, the queen began to digest the bitter tasting leaf, and in the process almost spitting it all over Spottedpaw’s face.
Just as she was about to leave Bluefur all alone to fret over her current situation, the she-cat turned around so that she was facing the blue-gray queen. Quickly, she dropped her herbs and rushed back to Bluefur’s flank.
Her eyes wide, she whispered a question to the queen.
“What are their names?”
Startled, Bluefur turned her head around.
“I thought you were leaving.”
“Well, you know, since I’ll never have kits of my own….” Spottedpaw trailed off awkwardly, her apprentice status really showing through.
Bluefur closed her eyes softly, letting the darkness of the nursery engulf her vision. She lowered her delicate rosy nose to the hard ground, identifying each kit by their individual, unique scent.
“This one,” She purred, nudging a light blue-gray tom similar to her. He blinked awake revealing bright, curious eyes, and then closed them, as kits don’t fully see for moonrises. “His name is Stonekit, for the dark color of his fur.”
Spottedpaw nodded her approval, eager for more.
“This one,” Her careful nose moved on to a delicate she-cat, the only one of the litter. Her sleek light gray fur, almost pale, was a few shades lighter than her brother’s, and still way lighter than Bluefur’s. “Her name will be Mistykit, for she reminds me of the thick fog that sometimes cloaks the banks of the river…” She spoke, her last words softer, more longing.
Again, Spottedpaw didn’t read any of her obvious body language signs, or give any indication that she’d heard.
“And as for the last one…” Bluefur blinked open her piercing blue eyes; almost at the same time the tom blinked open his, revealing leafy-green irises. “His name is Mosskit, in honor of his beautiful eyes.”
“Beautiful.” Spottedpaw said, somewhat jealous. “All of them are.”
The medicine cat apprentice turned to leave, grabbing her supplies with a low swoop of the head.
“Oh—and Spottedpaw?” Bluefur mewed.
“Yes?” Spottedpaw asked through clenched teeth.
“Can you keep their names to yourself for now? I want to keep it a surprise for the rest of the clan.”
“Of course, Bluefur.” The other she-cat winked before heading out of the den. Too softly for her to hear, Bluefur sighed in confusion.
“Oh, Starclan.” She whispered, nuzzling her kits carefully before turning to sleep right along side them.
Holding on, and the days drag on.
Bluefur didn’t know when Tawnyspots would retire.
She didn’t know if it would be that night, or if it was a moon away.
All that mattered, that hung in the balance for that queen, all that she really cared about were her kits.
Her kits.
The ones who would die early from unnecessary wars and battles waged on other clans if he became deputy.
Thistleclaw.
The ambitious dark tabby tom that clearly wanted to be leader just as much as she did. No, she could never, ever let that happen. Not as long as she lived, as long as she had fangs and claws.
But would Sunstar? That, she didn’t know.
It had been nearly a quarter moon since Spottedpaw had chatted with her. Since then, the queen had mostly been keeping her herself, snapping and hissing at any other warriors that dared to peek in.
My kits. Bluefur thought, looking down at the darkest colored one, Mosskit. If only you knew, Oakheart. If only you knew that you have two sons and a beautiful daughter. If only you knew that all went well, that the kits I’ve been expecting—your kits—are healthy and strong.
Bluefur checked on the three huddled bodies before rising from her stiff crouch in the warm, fresh bead of moss. She stretched; silvery paws extending and claws silently unsheathing, then resheathing when she had finished.
With one last yawn, the warrior queen stuck her head out into the fresh evening air, looking up at the sky. The moon had already begun to rise on the edge of the horizon, a dark black hole in the sky.
A new moon.
Not good.
No, not tonight! Bluefur frantically thought, fur all riled up. Tonight, under normal circumstances, she would meet Oakheart, deputy of Riverclan, at the banks of the river and share tongues for the majority of the night.
Suddenly, a loud meow, the meow of Sunstar, broke through her thoughts and interrupting them loudly.
It started out with the familiar clan greeting.
“May all cats—“
Bluefur didn’t wait for the rest. She lay cautiously at the entrance of her den, watching the center of camp from there. Cats began to emerge from their dens, stretching and yawning. It was dusk, after all.
When most of the clan had gathered near the leader, Sunstar motioned for Tawnyspots to step forward.
“Thunderclan,” The ginger tom mewed, voice echoing throughout the forest. “Tonight, we honor a very special warrior, who has served our clan for many seasons. “
“Tawnyspots,” Sunstar meowed, lowering his head slightly. “Is it your wish to give up the name of a warrior and join the elders?”
“It is,” The now former deputy replied, relief flooding through her.
“Your clan honors you and all the service you have given us. I call upon Starclan and all of my warrior ancestors to give you many seasons of rest.”
“Thank you,” Tawnyspots whispered before disappearing into the crowd. Making it as far as an Elder was an accomplishment most cats didn’t live to see.
“As for Thunderclan’s new deputy…” Sunstar said, keeping the clan’s attention. “That will be announced at moonhigh.”
“Moonhigh…” Bluefur echoed to herself as the small gathering disbanded. “That’s how long I have until Thistleclaw becomes deputy…”
