Warriors - The New Path, Book 1

Prologue.
Night sets in, carrying an eerie darkness alongside it. Inside the nursery, Dawnleap’s shrieks worsen. The silhouette of Brackenstar sits in the doorway, his ears down and kneading the moss with his monumental forepaws apprehensively. Never has the brave leader of ThunderClan been so terrified in the past, it seems if the camp was to be ambushed at this second he would be too worried and dazed to fight. Warriors and elders and apprentices sit around in bunches, conversing in hushed tones. Weaselspot, the medicine cat, rushes across the clearing and into his den, emerging with poppyseeds a moment later. Brackenstar’s eyes and wide. He is alert and as Weaselspot passes by, he asks what’s happening with Dawnleap.
“What’s happening?” Brackenstar asks, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Fear is creeping up on him uncontrollably, “is she okay?”
Weaselspot nods although, in the depths of his eyes, worry lurks precariously. “The pain is worsening. There’s a chance…” He pauses, his breath hitching in the back of his throat, “There’s a chance that she isn’t going to make it.”
At that, the loose fur around Brackenstar’s neck bristles and his back arches. “I still don’t see why I can’t come in!” He snarls, unsheathing his claws.
“Her greencough is contagious – extremely contagious – and she is in a very bad state. Let me handle it, okay?”
And with that, Weaselspot disappears into the darkness of the nursery.
*****
After hours of pacing and hushed conversation, a scream shatters the silence. Brackenstar barges into the nursery and waits impatiently as his eyes adjust to the poor darkness. The outline of his mate finally becomes visible and in seconds, Brackenstar is beside her.
Dawnpelt’s pelt is slick with sweat and she is still huffing with the effort. Her breathing is jagged and she rests her head back on the moss, her eyes half-open.
Brackenstar nuzzles her and she smiles gently.
“Brackenstar-“ She wheezes, a cough shaking her body. Her breath rattles in her chest like a bird trying to flee from a cage. Brackenstar crouches beside her, his eyes falling down to her stomach where three wonderful bundles lay.
The grey one with white on its underbelly and beneath its chin crawls on top of its sibling, a mostly white tabby, who lets out a cry. The last one, which is completely white, lays still. Too still. I touch its stomach with my nose. It feels cold and stiff and it doesn’t respond to me. I turn to Weaselspot.
“I’m sorry,” He sighs, “I tried to save it. I couldn’t. It was useless. It would’ve been a brave tom, if it would have survived.”
I drop down beside my mate and gently push the dead kit away from the others.
I watch both of my kits proudly, my eyes flicking back up to Dawnpelt. She drags in a shuddering breath. “Aren’t they beautiful?” She croaks out.
I smile down at her. “They sure are.”
Brackenstar suddenly felt awkward as he crouched over his mate. He didn’t know what to say, what to do…
“They’re both female,” Weaselspot meows and Brackenstar thanks him mentally.
“What shall we name them?” Brackenstar asks thoughtfully. Dawnleap’s eyes light up. She lowers her head to look at them. At that moment, the light of dawn peeks through the willow trees surrounding the camp and the birds begin singing. Sunlight shines down on the kits and Dawnleap’s eyes sparkle.
“The grey and white one shall be Fallenkit,” She announces with pride, “and the tabby one shall be Dovekit.” She pauses, looking across at her kit who didn’t make it.
“And Snowkit.” She mews softly at her kit who didn’t make it.
The leader of ThunderClan leans down and licks the fur on her forehead. They both purr contently.
Brackenstar sits beside his mate and watches as sleep claims her tired body.
Weaselspot leaves and checks back and hours pass. Joy surges through the new father. He can’t wait to watch them grow and teach them everything they need to know. Suddenly, Dawnleap’s body jolts upright and she begins to cough.
Brackenstar becomes fully alert, crouching down beside her, comforting his mate with loving words.
“Are you okay? Don’t worry, you will be.”
What a fool, He thinks, I bet she won’t be okay. I hope not.
After minutes of coughing, she falls back, exhausted, her body heaving. Fallenkit begins wailing whilst her sister lay silent, asleep, beside her.
Dawnleap’s breathing begins to slow and Brackenstar nuzzles her.
“Don’t die on me, Dawnleap! We have kits! You can’t!”
Her eyes advert to his and she stares at him for a couple seconds.
“But you’d look after them, right?” She questions, as her eyes slowly lose their comforting sparkle.
“Not without you, Dawnleap!” Brackenstar caterwauls, tears brimming his eyes,” I can’t without you!”
He races to the entrance of the den and yells at the top of his voice, “Weaselspot! Come quick!”
Within a minute, Weaselspot sprints across the clearing with herbs hanging from his mouth. He sets them beside Dawnpelt and turns to his leader.
“You need to leave. For your own health.”
“I don’t care about my own health!” Brackenstar yells angrily, “I want to stay with her!”
“The best you can do is take your kits into the elders den before they catch greencough too,” Weaselspot grunts, nuzzling them until they squirm beside Brackenstar’s forepaws. He places both of his kits hurriedly outside and then rushes back inside the nursery again, eyes wide.
Weaselspot shoves him out with all his might, and the tired tom tries to get past him but fails.
“I love you, Dawnpelt!” Brackenstar howls as he is shoved out of the nursery, collapsing beside his two kits who stumble around him blindly.
Flowerwhisker, a queen, and Mousepetal rush over to their leader and help him to his feet. Flowerwhisker gently picks up Dovekit and carries her across the clearing to the elders den. Mousepetal, a loyal warrior, helps Brackenstar to his paws.
“You should get some rest. Flowerwhisker can feed your kits, she has milk – what are their names?”
“Dovekit and Fallenkit,” Brackenstar huffs, unable to control the shakiness of his voice. Mousepetal picks up Fallenkit carefully.
“Please rest.” She mutters through fur.
*****
Later that day, Brackenstar wakes to his name being called from outside. Fear fills him.
She’s dead. He thinks.
“Brackenstar?” It’s Weaselspot.
“I’m in here.” He grunts, stretching his limbs. Weaselspot appears at the entrance of his den. He waits for the worst. He waits for the medicine cat to declare his mate’s death. Fear pulsates through his veins, replacing his blood. Finally, Weaselspot speaks… “We have excellent news.”
Chapter 1.
Morning light casts down on ThunderClan camp. Two fluffy bundles roll out of the nursery, squealing with enjoyment.
“Careful, Dovekit! You too, Fallenkit!” Mousepetal laughs as she walks by.
“We will!” Dovekit squeaks.
“You better be, otherwise I’ll tell you mother!” Rosethorn purrs.
“Don’t worry, Rosethorn, you won’t have to.” Fallenkit reassures. When she leaves, Dovekit turns to her sister, “Race you to the elder’s den!”
And so, the race begi-ends. Fallenkit crashes into a huge brown tabby who laughs deeply.
Dovekit meows with excitement, “Your back! Your back!”
“I sure am!” Brackenstar purrs, leaning down so that his kits can climb onto his shoulders.
“you're getting heavy!” He jokes, speeding around in circles. Fallenkit laughs happily, climbing onto his head and sliding down his white snout.
Dawnpelt emerges from the nursery, a smile on her face. She sits outside, cleaning her paws.
Two moons ago, her kits had to be moved to the elder’s den because she had greencough and it could’ve spread to them. She nearly died but Weaselspot saved her just in time.
Flowerwhisker pads up to Dawnpelt and she looks across at her.
“I’ve never seen Brackenstar this happy before.” His mate smiles.
“He sure loves them,” Flowerwhisker purrs, “He visits Whitekit’s grave every day.”
Dawnpelt nods quickly, changing the subject. She doesn’t particularly want to talk about Whitekit. Losing him was hard, and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet!
“I hope he doesn’t get distracted-“ Flowerwhisker’s kit’s, Crowkit, Littlekit and Berrykit suddenly tumble out of the nursery. They’re a moon older than Dawnpelt’s kits.
“Hello, Dawnleap!” Crowkit meows at her as his sisters Littlekit and Berrykit batter him with their paws.
“Hello, little one. Why don’t you go join Dovekit and Fallenkit – I think they’re playing Badger Ride with Brackenstar!”
“Badger Ride?” The brown female with a black muzzle, Littlekit, asks, “What’s that?”
“Brackenstar will explain it for you. Run along now.” Flowerwhisker says, watching them as they dart over to Brackenstar, Dovekit and Fallenkit.
“Why don’t we go hunting?” Flowerwhisker says suddenly. Her unexpected ways can leave anyone confused.
“But we’re still queens- “
“I don’t care! Let’s sneak out around the back of the elder’s den!”
And so, both Flowerwhisker and Dawnleap sneak out of camp from behind the elder’s den. Once they reach the forest, they set out to bring back prey that’ll last a good couple of moons.
Chapter 2.
When they arrive back, Brackenstar is talking to Ashfall, ThunderClan’s deputy, outside his den. The atmosphere is tense, and Dawnleap and Flowerwhisker share a worried look. Clouds hang over the sun, casting shadows down on the camp. The air is humid.
“I’ll go check on the kits,” Flowerwhisker meows, racing into the nursery. Dawnleap sprints over to her mate. “What’s going on?” She asks. It might be bad.
Brackenstar stares down at Dawnleap, his head lowered.
“A WindClan patrol is here. They believe ShadowClan are orchestrating an attack.”
*****
Brackenstar leads Dawnleap into the leader’s den and she scowls into the darkness warily. She can hear low voices, quiet voices. When the den lightens up, six WindClan cats are sat around, talking.
“What’s going on? Why are you here?” Dawnleap snarls at Oakfoot, who gets to his feet immediately and arches his back.
“You better watch that tone,” He growls offensively.
“My tone? Don’t you dare come into our Clan and offend me!” Dawnleap leaps at Oakfoot, bashing him around the head with her paw. He hisses in annoyance, but doesn’t unsheathe his claws.
Brackenstar grabs her scruff and hauls her away. “I apologise for my mate’s behaviour. Rainstar, please can you explain to her what’s going on?”
Rainstar nods. “Of course.” Dawnpelt keeps her attention on Oakfoot until Rainstar begins talking again.
“ShadowClan came very close to our borders some days ago, talking about a different training method that will make their warriors stronger. The next day, we heard that they were planning on ambushing ThunderClan just before they trespassed on our territory.”
“You have to leave. Right now. For the sake of your Clan, Brackenstar.” Thornrush explains, a concerned expression on his face. Dawnpelt looks up at Brackenstar worriedly.
At that exact moment, a loud yowl breaks out and Ashfall pelts down the rocks and into the clearing.
Dawnpelt looks down the rocks and observes the clearing from this height.
She sees black fur spreading out into every den and the vile smell of swamps and mud.
“ShadowClan! Attack!” Darkstar yells from down below.
Immediately, Brackenstar shoves his mate into the shadows. “Stay here and don’t move!” He yells but Dawnpelt shakes her head. “My kits,” She screeches, pushing past him and across the clearing. As soon as she reaches the nursery, she sees Flowerwhisker huddled in the corner, her kits wide-eyed, wailing. Dovekit and Fallenkit beside them.
“Mother!” Fallenkit wails, trying to run over to Dawnpelt yet Flowerwhisker holds her back.
“Dawnpelt!” Flowerpelt yells as soon as she sees her. Locking her jaws around a ShadowClan warriors neck, Dawnpelt throws her adversary across the nursery.
“Move!” Dawnpelt instructs. Flowerwhisker grabs her kits all at the same time. Dawnpelt leans close to her face and whispers into her ear, “Down the side of the elder’s den. It leads you to the Dead Tree.”
Turning back around, she grabs her- Kits. They’re gone. Turning to the nursery entrance, she sees a shillouette carrying something in their mouth. She begins to run but a weighty cat pins her down, fangs around her neck. Brackenstar shoves the cat off his mate and claws it’s stomach brutally, before helping his mate to her feet. “Our-our kits…” Dawnpelt stutters, her body trembling.
Brackenstar clicks on immediately, leaving his mate amid battle. Dawnpelt calls after him but he already left. Turning towards a yelp of pain, she sees Mousepetal struggling against a tom two times bigger than herself.
Running towards her, she is about to give him a blow to the head when…
“Dawnpelt!” It’s Ashfall, the deputy of ThunderClan, failing against three ShadowClan warriors. Dawnpelt looks back at Mousepetal who is pinned down by the tom and back at Ashfall.
Who to choose? Dawnpelt thinks drastically. Oh, help me, StarClan!
Making up her mind, she lunges at one of the ShadowClan cats attacking Ashfall and slits his throat. Moving onto the next, she gives it a blow to the head knocking it unconscious. The third cat flees.
“Are you alright?” Ashfall asks Dawnpelt protectively. She nods and glances over at Mousepetal, gasping at the sight. She’s sprawled out on the terrain, blood from her throat dripping onto the battlefield. Dawnpelt gasps, holding her breath as ShadowClan slowly retaliates, one by one, fading into the darkness.
“Victory!” Darkstar yells, “We will be back to finish what we have begun!”
*****
Ashfall brings Dawnpelt up to Brackenstar’s den. It’s empty, he’s not back yet. As they mount the rocks, they are stopped by Badgersky. He shoves Dawnpelt so hard she nearly slips and falls into the clearing, but Ashfall saves her just in time.
“She was pregnant, you monster!” Badgersky yells indignantly, unsheathing his claws, “And you didn’t save her!”
What a mousebrain!
“I saved our deputy. You should’ve been there to save your mate if you loved her so much,” Dawnpelt’s words are so harsh, Badgersky’s shoulders slump. “It wouldn’t’ve been that way if you were there. I had to choose who to save!”
Badgersky lashes his tail angrily and disappears into the warrior’s den.
*****
“Are you okay?” Ashfall asks as we share our fresh-kill, “You seem worried.”
Dawnpelt sighs, “I am. A ShadowClan warrior stole our kits. Brackenstar went off to find them but I believe he may’ve gotten into a fight. I can feel it in my bones…”
Immediately, Ashfall stands to her paws, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner! I’ll make a patrol immediately – would you like to come along?” Dawnpelt nods quickly and so they both stand on the rocks overlooking the Clan. Ashfall gathers them and picks out cats for the patrol who feel healthy enough to come along.
“Warrenheart, Badgersky and Rustpaw! You are joining us in a search patrol!” Dawnpelt pads over to Rustpaw, who is standing beside his clanmate Diamondpaw.
Her floccose white fur is clumped with blood and she is hiding in the bushes, as if she is too frightened to come out.
To be continued...
Category:Stories
Category:Cats