#fataldrabbles

[fatal-rewrites-warriors]

I’ve decided that in this rewrite, the will say swears.  I just haven’t decided if they say fuck yet.

On that note, have Lionheart saying ass:

[fatal-rewrites-warriors]

The Snows

This is fresh off the press, first draft stuff, so it’s subject to change, but I really like how this legend turned out so I’m gonna share it -o-/

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“The Snows is a slow and silent thing,” he began.  “Creeping and plodding, seeping up through the ground as Hiverne grows tired and the days become short.  Silverpelt may be kind, and she may bring us the embrace of giving night, but she holds all of our ancestors within her.  Cats that are happy and sad, good and bad—and once a year the bad builds up and it seeps through Silverpelt thick, grey fur and falls as snow.

“The Snows isn’t a living thing,” he continued.  “Not in the way they we are.  But all that sadness and all the badness, it coalesces, it becomes a conscious need, an angry greed. It sees the cats still alive, able to be happy and warm, to run through the woods and live the life we were so graciously given, it becomes jealous.

“So it hides the prey. It smothers the trees and the plants and it covers our home and it freezes the river, gripped by the agony of its quasi-existence.  It takes lives like something wronged, carries out its own personal vendetta like the stone claws of an angry god, and all we cats can do is work harder, stay warmer, and hope to make it out alive.

“And we always do.  Soon, Hiverne’s nap is over.  Soon, Silverpelt no longer needs to weep the badness out of her. And as Hiverne opens his eye, the Snows finally gets the warmth it so desperately craves.  It lifts off the plants, it leaves the river, and it frees the prey, and summer returns—until the next winter, when the cycle begins anew.

“But cats still die,” he finished.  “It’s all cyclic, you know.  Born like the spring, dead like the winter.  If you stay, one day you’ll see someone die.”

He turned his pale yellow eyes to stare straight at him.  “Are you okay with that, Firepaw?”

Gripped in the intensity of that stare, he could barely manage to swallow and nod.

“I think I am, Ravenpaw,” he said.  “I think I have to be.”

[fatal-rewrites-warriors]

Introducing Yellowfang! -o-

---

His hackles rose when the smell of fox hit his nose.  His hackles rose, and he stood over the rabbit protectively legs braced and tail lashing.  He knew it was stupid.  He knew he should run.  But he couldn’t just give up this rabbit because a stupid fox was bold enough to wander onto clan territory.

A low growl came from the bushes.  “Alright, ‘paw, we’ll do this this hard way.”

Firepaw only had a second to be shocked when the “fox” spoke cat before the dark grey ball of matts and fur burst from the undergrowth.  He reared up and was bowled over by the molly, even though she was smaller than him and quite skinny.

“Ow, ow, ow!” he wailed as she grabbed an ear and gnawed on it, her back paws looking for purchase on his belly.  He tried to claw her ears—she didn’t have any.  Just what the fuck was this thing?!  With a surge of anger, he shoved her off of him.

As he got up and faced the old molly, he encountered a creature that didn’t look entirely cat like. Besides the fact that her ears had been shorn to stubs, her face was flat and her bottom fangs jutted out, cracked and worn and yellowed with age, and her vivid orange eyes burned with a supernatural anger so vicious and so otherworldly that it nearly cut a line straight through him.

Beyond the blood hammering in his veins, he could hear the stone guardians chortling all around him.  It only served to rile him up more.  He charged her.

He did not expect to see shock on her hideous face.

[fatal-rewrites-warriors]

Cinder Meets Fire

Hello I’m writing a bit again!!! Please look at my gorl Cinderkit meeting Firepaw for the first time

--

Before he could move on, though, a kitten who could only be a couple moons younger than Firepaw burst out of the entrance of the nursery.  Her grey fur stuck out in every direction and she had shining green eyes, brimming with an excitement that her small body could hardly contain.

“Hello, I’m Cinderkit!” she announced at the top of her lungs.  “I’m so glad I get to meet you now!  Are you actually a kittypet?  What name did you get?  I wasn’t allowed to see your ceremony because my mom is keeping me in the nursery because I stuck burrs grandma’s nest—”

“Cinderkit!”  The molly that exited after Cinderkit was the one who looked like Greypaw and, now that he was thinking about it, a whole lot like Bluestar as well.  Behind her peered a black and white kitten the same age as Cinderkit.  “If you can’t listen to me, you’ll be in the nursery that much longer, you know.”

“Well, she’s here now, Mossflower,” Redtail said.  “Might as well introduce her and Swiftkit to Firepaw.”

“Firepaw!” Cinderkit squealed with delight.  “You’re fire and I’m cinders!  That’s great! We should be friends—we’ll be in the same den soon, after all, I get to be an apprentice in a moon!”

[fatal-rewrites-warriors]

If you hate the reasoning behind Leopardstar joining forces with Tigerstar being because she loved him, clap your hands!

Real talk, though, it’s fucking humiliating that her character was reduced to “I’ll put my clan directly in harm’s way because I have a crush on this big nasty” especially when she was so against half-clan cats and interclan romance.  So I wrote a thing, kinda like a prologue to the Darkest Hour?  That kinda explains why Leopardstar bent to Tigerstar so easily.

Leopardstar sat in the crook of a willow tree, glaring through the hanging strands at the entrance of the camp.  Stonefur and Mudfur sat beneath her, switching between looking at her and watching the tunnel in the reeds.  The entire camp—whoever wasn’t hunting or training—sat with a similar tension.

And then, when the breeze carried the stench of Shadowclan into the camp, she leapt down.  Tigerstar shouldered his way through the reeds, head high despite being surrounded by three or four Riverclan warriors.

“Leopardstar,” he purred, “I missed you at the last Gathering.  We hardly shared a word.”

She came to a stop a few paces away, eyeing him warily.  In her youth, his honeyed words had swayed her, made her bitter.  She was older now.  More confident.  She could look at him as an equal rather than an inspiration—or perhaps, from what Firestar had said about him, the scum that he was.

“You couldn’t possibly have a good reason for being here,” she said.

He sat and curled his tail around himself, getting a little too cozy for her liking.  “You’re quick to judge.”

“I judge with good reason.”

He scoffed.  “You truly believe that Firestar was in the right? You and I both know that leadership is what we deserve.  Power is in your blood,” he nodded at Mudfur, her father, “just as it’s in mine.”

“And now we both have it,” she said, “but that doesn’t explain why you’re in my camp.”

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” he suggested, eyeing the cats gathering around them pointedly.  “We can talk, leader to leader.”

The sooner he was out of camp, the better, she thought.  “Fine. Stonefur.”  She beckoned with her tail.

“I said leader to leader,” Tigerstar said as he followed her out.

“I have ears,” she snapped. “And you have claws.  I’m no idiot.”

He sniffed indignantly, but protested no further as she led him out.  The moment they were out of sight of camp, though, Tigerstar quickened to match her pace, guiding her away from the clan borders.

“It looks like your clan is thriving,” he said.  “Crookedstar, may Starclan treat him well, made the right choice.”

She flicked her ear, no patience for small talk.  “Why are you here?”

“We should join forces,” he said.  “Breezestar and Firestar are allies, everyone in the forest knows that.  It’s a matter of time before they turn on one of us and drive us out, don’t you think?”

She could have rolled her eyes at that.  Firestar, friendlier than a curious crow, would be the last cat to turn on another clan like that.  Breezestar, though…

“What would an alliance between us entail?” she ventured.

“Why leave it at a simple alliance when we could become one clan?” he pressed.  “By fighting against each other, the clans only worsen their chances at survival.  Together, we could be unbeatable.”

“Go back to the nursery, Tigerstar, you obviously haven’t heard the stories about why the clans can’t mix,” Stonefur piped up.  “We’re too different.”

“If we’re so different, then how am I Shadowclan’s leader?” he retorted.

“Shadowclan’s hardly Shadowclan with all the rogues you’ve brought in,” he snapped.  “What with illness killing off anyone who knows anything about being a Shadow, you got lucky.”

“He’s right,” Leopardstar said.  “Right now, Shadowclan is hardly more than a pack of rogues.  Riverclan and Shadowclan will stay separate, as all the clans should.”

They slowed to a stop, just ten paces from the fences that made the border between the forest and the town.  She was ready to turn back, but Tigerstar wasn’t ready to give up.  He walked in front, tail flicking yet not a hint of annoyance in his movements. In fact, he hardly looked frustrated at all.

“Allow me one last attempt to convince you,” he said.  He sat, sweeping his tail across the grass to rustle the fallen leaves of coming fall.

As she opened her mouth to rebuke him, several glowing eyes opened from the inky darkness beyond the fence, an entire legion of cats, enough to easily outnumber Riverclan and Shadowclan put together.

And they weren’t Shadowclan, oh no, for the Shadows’ eyes didn’t glow, and certainly not with the cold, outsider malice that these eyes held.

“You care a lot about your clan, Leopardstar,” Tigerstar murmured, eyes narrowed to a slit, like a fond mother praising her kits.  “That’s a commendable trait for any leader.  You know Starclan wouldn’t look kindly on you for letting harm befall them, not when you could have prevented it.”

Her fur stood on end, unable to tear her eyes away from the town.  There was something else in there.  Something evil.  Something killer.  She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Alright, Tigerstar. You win.”

[fatal-rewrites-warriors]

Cinderpelt (or Cinderpaw if you want to set it during her training) and Deadfoot!

"Nice leg."

Cinderpelt makes the comment before she processes that she's making it to Deadfoot, deputy of a clan least known for their humour, and mentally buries her head into a nearby trunk. Beside her, she practically Swiftfang clenched with complete and utter mortification. For once, she was with him on the issue.

And all this after she promised she would behave, too.

Even Deadfoot is taken aback, stopping mid-sentence to look at her. "You must be Cinderpelt," he says, catching his own surprise with grace. "Or maybe something else, by now. Barkface told me about your plight. You've got a remarkable injury of your own."

She blinks, caught off guard by his act of kindness, sliding over her humorous remark eloquently.

"No new name for me," she laughs. "I mean, I would, but Threeleg just doesn't sound right to me."

"Ah, the tradition is falling out of fashion with the younger cats anyways. Congratulations on your return, Cinderpelt. Enjoy the Gathering."

"You too, sir!"

Cinderpelt hurries away, Swiftfang on her tail. "You're an idiot," he grumbles.

She sticks out her tongue. "Well good thing he took pity on me."

He smirks, flicking her with his tail. "Good thing indeed!"

[cats-of-eden-valley]

quick little blurb of a thing as im falling asleep <3

--

Something about the stars on the night of Asphodel's first Trading had him amazed, trying to hide as he stared in wonder. He'd seen the stars before when the Moons eyes were closed, but tonight as the pride wound along the top of the [name] Cliffs, he felt as if he saw them in an entirely new light. He couldn't help but wonder if the starry bodies of the cats who came before slipped among them, joining them on this night of peace and wealth.

Ursinia, his father, matched his pace as they descended to the riverbank. The walls of the cliff ascended sharply after this crumbling spot, framing the river like dark, benevolent sentinels. It reminded Asphodel of his mother and father curled around him, smelling of milk and family.

"The night seems to have your attention more than usual, son." Asphodel thrilled at the address; his father had not slipped up once since his private confession. When they were alone, he was a tom, through and through.

"The stars seem brighter. I was wondering if our ancestors might be joining us tonight."

Ursinia's whiskers quivered, a deep (and enviable) purr swelling in his chest. "Very acute observation. Larkspur isn't the only one with a connection to the heavens, it seems."

He nearly burst from the praise. "So they are!  They must miss them, then."

"They must. When the Moons eyes are closed, that is when the stars can slip away and dance with the living. It's such a special night, that if you look closely, you can see old, faded stars that you could not see before. Old hunters come back from their slumber to see us again."

Asphodel cast his eyes up again, spotting the faded glimmers among the familiar shapes and stories of the sky. Could there be cats from the dawn of time itself, viewing them that night? He hoped he would impress them.

[fatal-rewrites-warriors]

goldenflower and applefur!

(please :))

"...and we have welcomed a loner from the Northern Farms, Apple, into Shadowclan. She has recently taken on the name Applefur, signifying her commitment to the clan."

Raggedstar finished her announcements with eloquence, and Bluestar stepped forward, looking cold. Applefur hunkered near the back of the Gathering--she'd never been around so many cats at once. More than an entire clan, and Shadowclan was small to begin with!

Not to mention she'd been getting looks. Even though she'd hung back on coming to a Gathering until she cut her ears, it seemed every single cat here knew with a glance that she was an outsider.

"I'm guessing you're Applefur?"

The whisper comes to her mid announcement, from a ginger molly inching closer to her left. Applefur twitched nervously at the thought of conversation.

"We've also named two new warriors," Bluestar continued, "Lionheart and Goldenflower!"

"Here it comes," the molly whispered, whiskers twitching.

Somewhere in the crowd, Applefur saw a giant golden head fling back with a yowl of pride that had the entire Gathering chuckling. Her companion laughed too. It helped break some of the tension that Applefur simply couldn't shake.

"That's my brother," Goldenflower said. "I came back here because I thought he'd enjoy some attention. He got a bee sting, and he was so scared it would still be swollen by tonight."

"O-Oh, you're Goldenflower! Congrats. A-And that's, uh, kind of you! I just don't like the attention."

"I don't know many Shadows who are a fan of it," Goldenflower said, tail curling. "You'll fit right in."

She kneaded the grass nervously--Goldenflower was, quite honestly, one of the most gorgeous cats she'd ever seen. Every cat told her again and again that it was against the Warrior Code (Scorchwind scoffed once, remarking that rogues never could seem to grasp that rule) and she'd assured herself that would be simple. Well, why did no one tell her the mollies from other clans were so stunning?

But as quickly as this whirlwind of a night began, it ended. The leaders leapt from Great Rock, and she already could hear Raggedstar calling for the clan.

"Nice meeting you, Applefur!" Goldenflower trotted away, tail waving.

"Y-You too!" She hurried off to join her clan, giddier than she thought she'd be leaving.