Story: The Best View
Flypaw watched the cluster of warriors whispering to each other, her tail lashing. They were talking about her. They were always talking about her.
The pathetic black-and-white tom that was her stepfather was bobbing his head up and down like a fishing duck, murmuring affirmations and apologies. Ever since her mother had died, he had handed over authority of Flypaw’s life to Minnownose, who was currently staring him down coldly, and he would agree with every single idea the deputy had about how to discipline Flypaw and lead her down the path of obedience.
Flypaw hated both of them for opposite reasons. Swiftdust was a simpering wuss who’d never had an original opinion in his life. Minnownose, on the other paw, was the pinnacle of what the Marish desired in their community – quiet, stern and dedicated to keeping everyone together and in perfect unity. No one had fought in a long time because of her mediations and threats of punishment, and that was just how everyone liked it.
Flypaw, being the exact opposite of everything this family stood for, threatened their shallow peace and serenity. As such, she was constantly in trouble. She was amazed they even let her near her sisters anymore, but, then again, it wasn’t like they could stop her without beating her within an inch of her life or exiling her, and neither of those things were The Ideal Way. The Marish insisted on everyone staying and keeping the knowledge and secrets they had within the family, no matter what.
So screw her, she guessed.
One cat stood up – her mentor, Troutpath. He said something that she couldn’t quite hear, but his tone and submissive body gestures gave away that he was trying to vie for a talk, rather than a punishment.
Good ol’ Troutpath. The only cat looking out for her.
Abruptly, the three cats stood up and approached Flypaw - Minnownose with her chin raised so she could look down dismissively at the apprentice, Swiftdust with his tail between his legs and his stupid meek shuffle, and Troutpath actually walking like a normal person. A welcome respite.
“Er…Flypaw.” Swiftdust looked at Minnownose, who nodded at him, and he stepped a little closer, in the same manner one would approach a venomous snake. “Minnownose would like to address your fight today.”
“She can bite me,” Flypaw said.
Swiftdust flinched. “Flypaw, please-“
“Fine.” Flypaw stood up and gave the deputy her most hate-filled glare she could manage. “You can bite me.”
Minnownose blinked disdainfully at her and jerked her head at Troutpath. A classic Marish motion: She’s your apprentice, do your job.
Flypaw watched the motion with rage burning in her chest, but she stared down at the ground, bristling all over. Her short fur made it impossible for her to look much bigger than she was, but she knew her aura would at least ward off the deputy from talking to her directly.
Troutpath sat down in front of his apprentice. She could feel his patient gaze. “Flypaw…”
Flypaw met his eyes with a fierce, unspoken challenge.
Troutpath did not rise to it. He spoke kindly. “Would you like to talk about what’s going on?”
Flypaw wanted to glower at him until he looked away, but it was she who turned her head first. “I’unno.”
“Here, come on.” Troutpath stood up, adding to Minnownose, “We’ll be back later.”
Minnownose grunted. Troutpath gently nudged Flypaw, and, for once, she obediently got up and stalked after him out of camp.
Nothing was said as they hopped over streams and parted the grass. Flypaw was scowling at the ground, unaware of their direction, just following the sound of her mentor’s footsteps. The longer they walked, the more hunched over she got, and the more her steps lagged.
She stepped over Troutpath’s tail and just barely stopped in time to avoid crashing into him. He had seated himself on a flat, grass-free patch of land, circled by water. He turned and gave her an inviting nod. Reluctantly, she sat down beside him and looked up to see where they were.
Ah. No wonder they had come here. This was her favorite place in the Marish’s homeland.
Here, the ground raised a little, just enough to see into the valley with a mostly uninterrupted view – almost all the way to end of the flatlands, blocked only by patches of forest and the sheer distance between here and where the leaders lived. If Flypaw squinted and the light was right, the faint grey on the horizon formed into the fabled stone houses the Clast lived in. The way the sun was setting behind them caught the snow on the mountains to the east and turned them almost orange, with the uncovered rocks jutting out on the slopes turned a sharp black. The grass was still green in the valley, a gentle breeze in the distance sending a wave of gold wherever it touched down, with black dots casting long shadows moving about, catching prey or chasing each other back and forth.
Flypaw let out a huge breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and at once the tension left her body.
“There we are,” Troutpath said, with an affectionate touch of his chin to the top of her head. “Feeling better?”
Flypaw nodded.
“I thought that might help.” The way Troutpath was colored by the sunset, he looked like an entirely different cat – his brown patches were red, and most of the white of his body was dark blue. “Do you want to talk now?”
Flypaw wanted to be more sullen than she actually felt, but the serenity of the end of the day opened her mouth. “I guess.”
“Alright.” Troutpath lowered into a crouch, settling down for the long haul. “What’s troubling you?”
Flypaw took a breath, let it out, and breathed in again. “I’unno. Lots.”
Troutpath nodded for her to go on.
The storm in the back of Flypaw’s head rumbled and swelled, and before she knew it she was off. “I’m just tired of this whole…thing. All of it. I don’t want to shut up, I want to talk. And I don’t want Gnatkit and Mosquitokit to be told to shut up either. They’re kittens, they should get to talk as much as they want! So should I! What’s wrong with being loud? Why can’t we just yell once in a while?
“And- and I hate that Swiftdust is just letting Minnownose do whatever she wants with HIS kits. And no one listens to me, even though I’m going to be a warrior in a couple months! I know them better than HE does! But he gets to be the one to shove them off on an old bat who doesn’t know what it’s like to be young anymore? It’s rotten!”
Troutpath looked amused for a moment, but his face turned serious again before Flypaw could berate him. She bared her teeth like a dog and continued, bristling again.
“And, you know, I’d leave to be rid of all this! I’d let them kick me out – if they WOULD kick me out! But they won’t! They want everyone who knows anything about the Marish to stay here! They’ll do their best to keep me here so I don’t go off spilling secrets or whatever-the-muck they’re so concerned about! Who would want to talk about this crappy place, anyway?! I should just take my sisters and go! Just leave in the middle of the night, before they can stop me! But they’ll just track me down and try to drag me back! Even though no one except my mom wanted me here to begin with!”
Flypaw’s voice cracked on the last sentence and she choked on her breath. A wave of hurt hit her square in the chest and she almost sagged with the weight of it. She hardly even noticed her mentor’s tail on her back as she coughed out pained breath after pained breath. She let herself sink to the ground, mirroring Troutpath’s position, burying her nose in her paws.
“I want to go,” she managed finally, voice weak and wobbly. “I want out of here. Now. But I can’t leave my sisters trapped in this family before they have the chance to figure out who they want to be. And no one will let me take them with me.”
Troutpath blinked slowly at her – an expression of compassion, and one that she rarely received. He said quietly, “This isn’t the best place for an individual to grow, I agree.”
Flypaw lifted her nose and rested her chin on her paws, eyes too heavy to keep open. “I hate it here.”
“I know.” Troutpath’s tail gently tapped along her back. He paused. “You’re always feeling these things, though. Did any of this cause you to get into a fight with Dapplepaw?”
Flypaw managed a snort. “It wasn’t a fight. I hit him a couple times and he wailed for his mentor to stop me instead of doing anything himself.”
Troutpath almost looked like he wanted to laugh, but he stayed on topic. “What did he say to upset you?”
“I’unno.” Flypaw’s eyes drifted to the side, focused on a bent blade of grass. “He said I shouldn’t get to see my sisters at all. Something ‘bout a ‘bad influence’. I forget. I just got mad and hit him.”
Troutpath hummed.
“I’m not gunna apologize,” Flypaw said. “I don’t care how much trouble I get in. I’m the only one who actually cares about the twins enough to protect them. I’ll fight every single member of this family to the death to let them be their own cats and not just a mindless shadow following along with the herd.”
“Would you fight me?” Troutpath asked.
“Well, no, of course not you.” Flypaw made a face at him, and he did laugh this time. “You and their foster mom, I’d leave alone.”
“Duckheart’s been letting you visit the nursery, then,” Troutpath said, surprised. “I thought she was upset with you.”
“No, just with me yelling so much or whatever.” Flypaw tilted her head in a feline version of a shrug. “Doesn’t want me to wake her litter. She doesn’t care if the girls are awake.”
Troutpath nodded and fell silent, turning his head to the valley and gazing out at the growing darkness. Flypaw joined him in watching the land slowly drown in shadow and the stars appear and speckle the night sky as the warmer colors faded away.
And, like always, the sight slowly drained Flypaw of her bitterness and anger. She started focusing on the stars, counting to ten in one area, then counting to ten again in another, and trying to keep track of which ones she had already numbered. It was more fun than she thought it would be.
Fun enough, in fact, that she jumped out of her reverie when Troutpath spoke again. “Are you ready to go home?”
Flypaw blinked twice and looked at him. Heaving a sigh, she nodded and stood up. “I’m not going to have to say sorry, am I?”
Troutpath smiled at her like he was trying to hide another laugh as he got to his feet and led her back through the grass. “We’ll see.”
