A young fox pup darted over the frozen ground, churning up puffs of light snowflakes in his frantic wake. He shivered from cold and fear; the nip of Leaf-bare, as he had recently discovered, was not kind to new life and his russet pelt starkly contrasted the pure white of the frosty landscape. Whatever foliage still remained was long dead, shriveled and clinging to snow-kissed branches. Great, he mused, how can I possibly feed myself now? I'm barely old enough to catch butterflies, as if those could fill an empty belly. A low growl escaped from his muzzle. He thought of his parents, ruthless and cold, abandoning him. At his age, it was nearly a death sentence. They had taught him nothing in the way of caring for himself during the few moons following his birth save for a few fox tricks, and those would have no effect when attempting to snag the pelt of a swift rabbit. "They gave me nothing but my life and a name, Zephire," he spat.
Zephire, as a fox pup, was odd to begin with. His parents mated early, during late Greenleaf rather than late in Leaf-bare, and as a consequence he was the only pup to survive when the weather of the harsh season turned bitter. No fox could say why his mother and father did what they did. Why his father chose only a single vixen or why their tender affection suddenly transformed to indifference. And no fox could say where they were now. After they ceased visiting the burrow where he always patiently awaited them, Zephire had no choice but to move on or meet his end from starvation. The other nearby foxes, none of them close kin, were too busy engaging in the customary mating rituals and preparing for their coming young to offer aid to the strange offspring of strange foxes. Thus, his current wandering was less to find his parents and more to stay alive, though the secret hope of their homecoming pulsed in the very back of his brain.
Zephire's pawsteps were dull and heavy, hindered by the thickness of the snow, a feeling the young fox had yet to accept as natural. He perceived himself severely slowed even at his fastest pace. "This Leaf-bare is a real pain," he snorted, stumbling over an icy patch of ground. He rose as quickly as he could manage on his weak legs, wanting to locate a safe resting place as soon as he could. The abandoned burrow he had left when night descended was far behind him now and his panic had only increased as the light of day wore on. Luckily he had found some frozen scraps of old prey to sustain him, but such a measly portion would only keep his hunger at bay for so long. Just as he had regained his balance, the young pup froze mid-stride. The scent that filled his nostrils sparked within him a distinct fear, sharper and more metallic than that of starvation. His hot, uneven breath billowed out in large clouds even as his blood ran colder than the snow beneath his paws. Cats.
The only nearby cover was a bramble bush. He darted into its protection even as his auburn pelt snagged on the thorns with every twitch of his lean muscles, pressing himself as low into the snowy ground as he could and all the while keeping his nose trained on that bewitching, sinister scent. It was sickeningly sweet, like a mix of rose petal and mint. As the rumble of screechy vocalizations scraped against his eardrums, he hoped that his bright fur would not betray him. He cursed himself for carelessly wandering into the territory of his mortal enemies, and though he himself bore no true hatred for the unfamiliar creatures, his father had been clear in his instruction about their wickedness. The cats drew closer and would soon pass into his field of vision, though he did not dare to move his head while seeking them. Fear burned within him, and for the few moments before he could see them, he forgot to breathe. And then there they were.
He loosed a soft breath in awe. These creatures, the cats, were almost majestic. Though not as graceful as his kin, their figures held a sort of fluid beauty that danced like their gentle steps, light and airy. He could sense their cold precision, too, with claws that curved delicately and yet exuded danger. They moved in a single unit--a pack, rather--headed by a brindle tabby she-cat. While her stride conveyed power and fearless leadership, her austerity in form was offset by the tender emotion that flickered within her soft, kind eyes. He shifted his gaze to the remainder of the party: a pair of small she-cats walking side by side, their pawsteps nearly in sync. He quickly settled on the one nearest to him. She had an ashy gray pelt with long fur that almost glowed against the white snow. And her eyes. They were the sharpest blue that Zephire had ever witnessed, an icy color than penetrated his heart with a pang that was almost more than fear. He was struck by her. There are creatures in this world that are like that she-cat? And to think these cats are so wicked...could they really be so evil? This she-cat, probably near his age in moons if he could guess, flicked her ears and nuzzled her companion, a light-brown tabby with dark eyes who responded with more reserved affection. The older she-cat turned to scold them, it seemed, but offered no real show of discontent. Zephire watched in silence, conflicted.
~*~
Mistflower led her small border patrol with relaxed ease, Dovepaw and Robinpaw in tow. RoseClan's borders had been awfully quiet and patrols were often uneventful. Now that Leaf-bare had hit with full force, the forest was as silent with trouble as it was with prey. Dawnstar had no need to send out large border patrols when the Clan's resources could be better put to use in gathering prey to feed its numerous members. Leopardstrike, the Medicine Cat, was doing all she could to keep everyone from falling ill, and though her stores of herbs were no longer plentiful the Clan had enough to last the cold season as long as everyone didn't catch Greencough at once. "Keep your ears open. Just because things have been quiet doesn't mean they will be today. Be ready for anything," she meowed back to the other she-cats.
Only a few tail-lengths behind the Head Warrior, the two Apprentices accompanying her kept stride with one another. Dovepaw loved patrolling with her sister, constantly eager to move her paws, and Robinpaw was always content to serve her Clan in such matters, especially with kind Mistflower at the head of it. "Gotcha!" Dovepaw answered, while Robinpaw only nodded her head and began to survery her surroundings more intently than before. Dovepaw flicked her ears to gain hold of her sister's wandering attention until the light brown tabby settled her calm gaze upon her sister expectantly. Once Dovepaw had succeeded, she quickly swooped in to nuzzle her unsuspecting kin, who winced slightly out of surprise but took no action to keep Dovepaw away. A twinkle of amusement lit up Robinpaw's emerald eyes as she reciprocated by playfully swishing her tail out at the gray she-cat while tilting her head with content.
"Apprentices, look sharp back there!" Mistflower called. The older she-cat could not hide the amusement in her own voice, having patiently observed the harmless play, and failed to deliver any hint of sternness. Her relaxed body language likewise betrayed her. "One more sweep of this area up ahead and we can head back to camp. You two deserve a good rest and we'll be running out of sunlight pretty quickly here."
~*~
Before Zepire had realized it, the sun was sinking low in the sky and the night was nearly upon them. It cast an eerie orange glow over the forest. The fox pup crouched lower in the bramble bush, more and more conscious of his long, red body. While his fascination with the cats had piqued his curious nature, it could not altogether eliminate his fear of them. Instinct kept him ready to fight or flee the moment they spotted him. As the three she-cats padded away, walking over the snow as if they were floating on clouds, he could feel his tense muscles ease and his rapid breath return to normal. He focused his attention on that beautiful (if it was possible for a fox to think a cat so) gray she-cat for as long as he could see her. She vanished like smoke. He crawled from his hiding place with caution, fur disheveled and wild from the snags. Zephire wished that he could know more of these unnatural creatures, so different from him and so interesting. He wished he could know that ashy she-cat's name and wished he could speak with words she would understand. He wished he could even approach her without feeling the heat of her hostility or losing his life by her claws. Her sweet scent hung heavy in the air.
"That could never happen. I should hate them, but even though I don't I'm still a fox regardless. And what's so great about that? I don't even belong with my own kind! I wish I could be a part of what those cats have...I want to be a part of what she has," he whispered, resting his head on his paws. Thoughts of the bewitching she-cat danced across his brain like the colorful falling leaves of his birth season. Caught up in his daydreams, Zephire did not even realize when the wind changed directions, carrying her scent away and his along with it.
Dove...a voice like the wind echoed about the trees. Zephire remained still as an oak, almost sure he had imagined it until the wisp of a voice sounded once more, louder this time. At this moment the sun had all but retired and twilight, plunging the wood into darkness, had brought a handful of stars from hiding. "Is...is her name Dove?" he asked, gaze pointed up at the vastness of the starry sky. He received no reply but the rattling of tree branches in the frigid air. Silence engulfed him for what seemed like ages.
"Is that really your wish, young fox?"
Zephire whirled around to the direction of the stranger, coming face to face with the pale glow of a starry-pelted cat, her eyes like the moon itself. His mouth gaped open in utter surprise, yet her presence had somehow soothed his fear. "You...you can speak fox? How is that possible?" he sputtered in disbelief. The starry she-cat did not deign to grace him with an answer, but rather repeated her question with solemn patience. Unable to fully grasp what nature of being was before him, the dumbstruck fox pup could merely nod in agreement.
"Then so it will be. We, the cats of StarClan, bestow this gift upon you, inviting you into our own kin to share in our ways. Yet gifts never come without a price. Take heed of my words: by day you shall live as we once did, but as the all-knowing eyes of the stars awaken your true nature will be revealed to all."
The she-cat remained expressionless as she spoke. When she finished she glided over to his shivering form and gently touched her nose to his. A coldness more bitter than Leaf-bare enveloped Zephire, overtaking his consciousness and guiding him into the blackness of sleep. Before his vision faded he caught one last glimpse of the she-cat's big, moon eyes. How peculiar... he thought. And then there was only darkness.
The she-cat lashed her sparkling tail as the fox before her collapsed into unconsciousness, admiring her work. A starry tom cat with the same moon eyes emerged from the ether to sit beside her. "Were you always this soft, Snowberry?" he meowed. She shook her head with defiance, but began to purr. The stars above them seemed to quiver in unison. The prophecy...they hissed. Blazewing dipped his head to those watching from above and looked to his daughter.
Snowberry cleared her throat and began:
"Once Fox, will forever change the Dove, born of the pure Flame...love will be broken as well as bond. Betrayal lies thick, and all from the eyes of the stars...the rose now blossoms, free of cold frost."
~*~
Mistflower sighed, shivering in the cold wind. She felt it shift, carrying new scents on the frosty breeze. For a moment she was at peace, ready to call the Apprentices to return to RoseClan's camp. The next, her blood ran ice cold as she recognized what was in the air. "Fox...I smell fox," she breathed. Dovepaw and Robinpaw immediately stiffened, bristling and unsheathing their claws. Mistflower flicked her tail urgently, leading her patrol towards the source. "We must protect the camp at all costs. Be prepared to kill."
Dovepaw and Robinpaw nodded swiftly, eyes focused and cold. They were prepared.
---- END OF PART 1 ----
Hello! I know it's been a long time...a few years have passed. Like 5. I rediscovered my blog and decided that I should rewrite something old on here to show how much I've developed as a writer since leaving the Clans behind. (Fixing all the plots holes and awkward bits has been quite an adventure!) I doubt anyone will read this, but I don't really mind. I did this as a tribute to a part of my life that is long in the past but still serves as an important stage of my growth as a writer and as a person. Thanks to everyone who ever took part in this blog. It was a real pleasure!
This is not a return. Everything here has been dead for ages. But who knows, maybe I'll be back again to rewrite more of Fox's Wish [Just Because] into something that's a bit...well, better. If not, I see this as a wonderful way to end my Blogger career.
May StarClan light your path,
~*::Dawnstar::*~
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