Mudpaw turned to face a large grey tom who had at least ten Warriors behind him. For some reason that Mudpaw was trying to understand, every cat in the den gasped with shock. Sure, it was surprising that there was many followers of this huge tom, but they didn’t seem to be looking at that. They didn’t even notice the cats behind the RiverClan Warrior. They were looking at nothing but the grey tom in front of him.
All of the cats stared for a moment, taking in the shocking appearance of the grey tom. Mudpaw curiously looked to each cat, eventually noticing that Bravestar was surprised the most. This meant that the tom in front of him must have known Bravestar, or was at least a Warrior of his.
“Wolfheart, what is the meaning of this?” asked Bravestar his eyes narrowed as he gave a hostile stare to his seemingly fellow Warrior. Then Mudpaw remembered—this tom was the RiverClan deputy. Why would he of all cats want to kill Robinwing? “You are my deputy!”
“Such a well-placed cat for a spy, don’t you think?” asked Wolfheart, a smirk forming on his face as Bravestar panicked. Mudpaw had never seen the look upon a leader’s before, not even Rainfur’s. This meant that whatever was happening was bad. Really bad.
“A spy?” asked Bravestar, shock and anger boiling madly. “What reason do you have to be a spy for that monster?” the grey tom just continued smirking, laughing a bit as Bravestar finished his questioning. Wolfheart obviously had knowledge of something very important.
“What other reason than to simply follow one who can lead these Clans into a better future?” asked Wolfheart. “Not only that, but he has promised me a position as RiverClan’s leader, just as soon as I get rid of you. Then I will finally be a leader, and I might even be able to execute those stupid kits of mine.”
“All this time you’ve wanted to become a leader?” asked Bravestar, his voice rough with the anger that continued boiling like a volcano. “Wolfheart, you are smart enough to know that power isn’t everything. Weren’t you in love with Thorntail? She’s dead now because of Sharpstar. Weren’t you happy for your kits? They won’t stand a fighting chance! Wolfheart. . .why?” The silver Warrior just spat at the pale leader’s feet, challenging him.
“Why?” Wolfheart asked, his eyes now narrowed with fury. “While I was stuck below you, everyone else thought of me as a bully. The only thing I did was push away my kits, and who wouldn’t if they were the reminder to everyone that you broke the Warrior code accidentally?” Wolfheart got into a fighting stance, ready to attack as Bravestar mimicked him.
“When I’m leader, they’ll all be forced to respect me. When I’m leader, they’ll all be forced to realize that I am a powerful cat that will punish them severely for judging me. See Bravestar? You always said that you must fight for what you believe in. So you know what I believe in? Revenge!” That was they only warning given to Bravestar before Wolfheart lunged onto the slender tom, his teeth sinking quickly into Bravestar’s shoulder.
Mudpaw watched with shocked eyes as the two toms fought, realizing that his wish to become an apprentice had vanished. Why had he wanted it so badly? The only thing he’d seen in the last few days was revenge, death, and blood. Was this all to being an apprentice? If so, he’d rather be a kittypet. At least he’d live longer.
Just then another wail had come from Robinwing, her eyes filled with tears but the determination was still there. The poor queen had promised herself that she would live, but Mudpaw was doubting it as her moments passed, and though he could tell that the kitting was moving along, but it wasn’t moving fast enough.
Mudpaw suddenly remembered the battle being fought in front of him. Just as the two strong toms rolled toward him, he jumped out of the way, avoiding getting crushed by the two stronger cats. As he stood up again, he realised the wounds on Bravestar’s sides and belly. He was losing, and for some reason, Mudpaw could tell that he was on his last life now. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t have time to figure it out. There was just too much going on.
Bravestar hissed in frustration before attacking again, this time being blinded by rage. Mudpaw’s heart was beating quickly as Wolfheart jumped out of the way, smirking as he did so. The massive tom then turned to his leader who Mudpaw ironically found out was much thinner. That would mean this was an even fight, which would also mean it would drag on. Mudpaw sighed as he wondered exactly when he was going to get out of the stupid den.
“Bravestar, you are weak!” Wolfheart hissed, his teeth bared as Bravestar stood up unstably. “You always have been. I knew from the start that I would overtake you. It was just a matter of when, and though Rainfur caught on to the fact I was a spy, you never did. Pathetic weakling. You trusted me! Ha! Just because I was your deputy did you trust me, oblivious of the fact I was going to kill you one day. Pathetic!” Bravestar’s enraged eyes had lessened, growing more into determination and a bit of fear. However, the pale leader kept his cool, aware of Robinwing’s wailing.
Bravestar lunged again, and this time he actually landed on Wolfheart. Though the strong tom pushed the leader off of himself, Mudpaw noticed a small look in Bravestar’s face, as if he knew something nobody else did. That was when the brave leader started murmuring something that was too low for anyone to hear. Mudpaw searched with his ears for the words, but he heard nothing.
Wolfheart caught onto this as well, narrowing his eyes with frustration as he lunged at the chanting leader. Bravestar rolled out of the way, easily avoiding the attack as Wolfheart continued to show his frustration. Mudpaw suddenly felt something, something he’d never felt before. He couldn’t describe it. He could only thing of five words: someone was going to die.
“Stop talking, you idiot,” Wolfheart hissed as the two leaders stared at each other, walking in a circle with hostile movements. “Whatever you’re trying to do, it won’t work. It will never work. Go to StarClan where you belong, Bravestar. Join with the rest of your lives!”
Then Mudpaw could hear the words coming out of Bravestar’s mouth. In one shocked gasp, Mudpaw understood them immediately, his heart pounding as he realised just who was going to die. The words became clearer now, and Mudpaw knew that everyone could hear now.
“Sacrifice freely given creates a mind innocently driven. Help granted to he who believes rightfully, life taken from he who acts sinfully. From the glittering stars to the ignorant world, I, Bravestar of RiverClan, ask humbly to help Mudpaw in his wish to protect.”
The brown apprentice took a step back, watching as Wolfheart lunged. Bravestar didn’t move. Instead, he stared at Mudpaw, his eyes filled with sorrow, but at the same time, determination. Without a clue of what was to come, Mudpaw watched as Bravestar fell to the ground, staring absently at his enemy as Wolfheart slit his throat.
The light in the pale leader’s eyes vanished and though Mudpaw prayed to StarClan it would return, it didn’t. This made Mudpaw’s eyes widen more. Bravestar asked StarClan to help him in his wish to protect, but what did that mean? What would happen?
Wolfheart stared at his leader’s dead body, an evil grin on his face as he accomplished his goal. Mudpaw’s body was shaking widely, even more as Wolfheart turned to face the two queens in which were pretty much oblivious to the fact that Bravestar was dead.
The massive grey tom narrowed his eyes on Robinwing, but Mudpaw refused to move. He was scared, frightened, and he really wanted to move, but he refused. Robinwing was going to have her kits, and he was going to protect her no matter what. Wolfheart would have to kill him.
Mudpaw, can you hear me?
It was Bravestar.
Bravestar? Mudpaw asked in his thoughts, hoping not to look strange. What on earth are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in StarClan? What’s going on? Why are you in my head? W-what’s going to happen? Am—Am I dead? Why—
Mudpaw, calm down, Bravestar whispered. I’m afraid I can’t really explain, but I can tell you that because of what I was chanting, I will stay with you for a few moments to help you with this fight. Mudpaw’s eyes widened. Bravestar, a leader of RiverClan was going to help him defeat Wolfheart? But he was just a kit!
We don’t have time. Just fight like you normally would and I’ll handle the rest, understood? Bravestar asked, making Mudpaw nod with uncertainty in his eyes. Wolfheart narrowed his eyes with confusion, noticing the brown apprentice’s confused state. The grey tom just continued stalking him, and soon, he lunged.
Mudpaw froze in his place as Wolfheart’s long flexed claws and sharp white teeth came closer to him, and though he kept trying to remember what Bravestar told him, he couldn’t move. It was as if the fear within him made him a large stone that couldn’t be pushed.
Wolfheart easily knocked him down, the wind leaving his lungs as the larger tom kept him down. As Mudpaw gasped for breath, the RiverClan deputy used his long claws to scratch at his belly, making it soaked with blood as the brown apprentice continued to get over the shock and fear.
Not even on instinct did Mudpaw fight. He couldn’t. The anxiety within him just made him tense up to the point he could barely breathe. This just made him feel worthless, as if he couldn’t do anything. Rosepaw and Tigerpaw were probably fighting brilliantly, but he, the biggest of the litter, couldn’t even lift his paw to defend himself.
Apprentices never listen! hissed Bravestar.
The crowd around the two battling cats watched in horror as Jactur and Sharpstar battled each other. Even though some followed the order of the evil leader and knew that stopping wasn’t something he would want, they still watched.
There was fear in everyone’s eyes as the two powerful toms fought, but they weren’t scared of who would lose. They were scared of what would happen when the monster in front of them took the nine lives of their leader and turned to them, slaughtering the forest. They knew they were doomed, but they were too shocked to do anything about it.
Jactur, of course, wasn’t paying attention to this. His blood was pulsing through him in adrenaline, and his eyes shined with the pleasure of insanity. None of the blood soaking his rainy grey and snow white fur was his, and the wounds on Sharpstar barely had time to heal as another life was taken.
Sharpstar lay motionless beneath Jactur after being literally ripped open while enduring a broken neck for just a few moments before the crazy tom finally killed him. In a few moments, the brown tabby woke with a start, remembering the pain he’d just witness and gasping as the wounds healed themselves so that he could live.
“That was the third life I’ve taken,” Jactur hissed demonically. “There are still six more, though. Hmm. . .how do I kill you? I’ve already ripped your guts out, and I’ve broken your neck as well as slammed you up against the Highrock. . .” The pure pleasure in his eyes is what scared Sharpstar, aware that his ninth death was near if he didn’t do something.
Jactur realised that his enemy was thinking, so with a fiend-like grin, he locked eyes with his foe and went into his mind. He quickly attacked the brick wall several times, sending many cracks into the crimson stained stone. Soon the whole thing would fall, and then he could mentally kill Sharpstar as well, or at least drive him into insanity first.
Sharpstar defensively kicked him off after that, but he disappeared before he took any damage. The insane grey and white tom snickered as he reappeared beside Sharpstar, jumping away with a smirk on his face. Jactur was clearly enjoying this, and the tabby leader in front of him was quite the opposite. Remembering the pain and the death that he’d just been through was mentally stressful. Jactur knew if he got a hold of the memories haunting the leader, he would be able to achieve anything.
“Why are you hiding your memories, dimwit?” Jactur hissed, his smirk growing as his crazed eyes flashed with fury and anger. “You have to have a reason, right?” Sharpstar growled lowly before locking eyes with Jactur. The grey and white cat was taken by surprise as the tabby tom attacked the wall of pelting rain, breaking the invisible barrier entirely. The only thing left was the strong force of rain.
Jactur frowned as Sharpstar was bounced back into his own mind. The scarred tom just sighed, as if disappointed, not scared. This frightened Sharpstar, but Jactur didn’t care. He was too busy thinking to himself than caring about the tabby tom. The last thought in his mind was that he needed to finish the deed quicker.
“I would like to ask you the same question,” Sharpstar murmured, suddenly becoming calm. This was what scared Jactur. What was this stupid cat planning? What had changed? “Tell me, demon, what happened that night Rainfur’s brother died? What happened the night you were created?” Jactur stared wide-eyed at the tom, shaking as he realised that Sharpstar had found his weak spot.
“How do you know it was his brother that created me?” asked Jactur, his voice demonic but soft, as if he were reliving the memory. It wasn’t possible, but a familiar feeling of rejection, hate, and fear overcame him. “He kept the information to himself!” Sharpstar gave a small smile.
“Not when he trusted me,” Sharpstar muttered. “Not when he thought me to be an innocent deputy not capable of killing his partner. Remember when he was an apprentice? When he supposedly killed Blackpelt? When he took a life of Ravenstar’s for me? He told me then. But I can tell from your expression he didn’t tell me everything. So tell me as we break from the breathless fight we’ve just shown my followers.” Jactur got into a fighting position, his claws flexed as he realised what was happening.
“Stop talking as if you know everything!” Jactur hissed, his tail lashing as his fury pulsed through him. “You don’t know a thing about what I’ve been through. Rejected by everyone, casted off as a murderer, and then never fully trusted because of the past. As if you know those feelings! As if you know what it feels like!” Sharpstar’s expression suddenly changed from being cocky, to being shocked and angry and the same time. Jactur had sparked something that would hopefully not turn into a fire.
“Actually, now that you mention it, I have felt those things,” Sharpstar murmured, looking at Jactur as if they weren’t enemies or foes for just one moment. It changed in seconds. “Not that I keep the memory in my head like you do. So pathetic. So weak. You couldn’t even last a day without your insanity. Or even Rainfur, for that matter. You’re just a tool.” Jactur’s eyes widened as he heard the word. Tool. Was that all he really was?
“No.” Jactur growled. “I’m not a tool. I help Rainfur and he helps me. We’re partners. He won’t use me like that again, and he is a friend, not an evil idiot like you. My insanity is what’s keeping me alive anyway, so I can admit to that without having any regrets.” Sharpstar raised and eye-brow, his twisted smile fading a bit as he noticed something
“Oh really?” he asked. “Well then why isn’t he here now when you need him most? Why aren’t you attacking me like you were three seconds ago? You don’t seem insane to me.” Jactur’s eyes widened with shock again, only to realize a small yet important detail that he’d forgotten about while talking to Sharpstar who oh so deviously smiled as the grey and white cat stood in silence, unable to answer the question given to him.
The switch had been turned off.
Happiness. Friendship. Brotherhood. Rainfur had always felt this with his twin brother Alfie. The connection they had had was indescribable. Knowing that this person was in your every memory, since the day you were born, was the most reassuring thought in the world. You knew that this person would forever be in your life. They would always be there to argue with you so that you wouldn’t screw up. They would always be there to guide you, to hold onto you. With this person, you knew that no matter what, someone in the world would always love you.
Fear. Anger. Concealment. That’s what Rainfur felt when the Fire Stars attacked him and his brother. When he was forced to stay off those streets that they then feared. They could no longer visit the meadow, forest, and lake regularly like they used to. They were forced to only go there on the weekends when they had the time to go around the streets they were now forbidden to walk through. Fear of one day getting caught when they took the short cut sometimes. Anger because of the many fights he had with his brother over following the short cut.
Shocked. Weak. Ignorant. The feelings that Rainfur felt when he was snatched by the Fire Stars when he finally won the fight about returning to the forest following the short cut they normally took. With Alfie beside him, struggling to get free just as he was, Rainfur was vulnerable. He searched for his brother’s comfort, but found none. He tried to reach Alfie so that he could protect his twin, but was unable.
Sad. Scared. Hopeless. The emotions Rainfur tried to push away when he was tortured for hours, but to no avail. To know that you are going to die is one thing. You’re sad, probably. Scared for sure. Heck, you’re probably thinking thoughts you’d never think in other situations. Losing your brother is another. Not just your brother. Twin brother. To know that he is going to die too is heartbreaking, but in a situation like that, Rainfur was defenceless. He was sad that he was going to die. He was scared that he was going to die. But most of all, it was the fact he was giving up that made him feel defenceless and weak. It made him frightened.
Appalled. Confused. Anxious. The feelings rippling through Rainfur’s mind as he watched Alfie try to plan something. He knew that his brother was going to sacrifice himself. He knew his brother was going to save him. But his mind wouldn’t accept it. His body wouldn’t stay still. And his heart wouldn’t let any word of the sentence ‘your brother is going to die’ get to him. It knew what he would do. It knew how fragile Rainfur’s mind and body was. It was protecting him.
Broken. Lost. Torn. Rainfur felt this before. When he was in the hospital for six weeks, thinking of nothing but Alfie, his only friend. To loose someone so embedded in your life, soul, mind and body is something no being should feel. The emptiness, the pain, the feeling of the tiny thread of his mind being broken, and the knowledge that you will never see that person again. His brother, one who’s always been with him, will never be in a single memory ever again.
Depression. Shame. Regret. The emotions Rainfur felt afterword, when he sat on that large boulder crying for hours. Finally accepting his brother was dead and gone. Finally accepting that they’d never see each other again. Ashamed that he was the one living, only because he was saved. He was weak. Too weak to save his own brother. Regret for the fact that it was all his fault. If he hadn’t suggested taking the short-cut they would never have met the Fire Stars. If he hadn’t insisted that they go, his brother would have lived. Both of them would.
Alone. Treacherous. Crazy. Rainfur knew these words by heart. He remembered feeling the loneliness as he shut everyone from his world, either thinking that they deemed him an outsider, or thinking that he no longer belongs in their world. Treacherous as he remembered those months he kept telling himself of all the wrong things he did, and how he should have to pay for his crimes. Crazy as those thousands of thoughts kept him up for hours, and sometimes full nights. Crazy as those memories replayed in his mind over and over again.
Dangerous. Suicidal. Insane. Rainfur recognized the feelings because even though it was nearly a year after Alfie’s death, he was still thinking of it. The memory was real, branded into his brain like the star-shaped scar on his shoulder. After thinking of the memory for so long, and after his thoughts of how dangerous and cruel he was, he told himself that he should be no longer living. What else was there to live for anyway? His father was never home and his mother was gone. Daniel was the only thing left. He attempted to do many things to himself, but never succeeded. Daniel always seemed to be around to watch, and when he’d look at his younger brother, all he could remember was Alfie, and how he literally needed to protect him.
Emotionless. Protective. Unreadable. In two years, Rainfur finally felt these things. In two years, he accepted that he needed to take care of Daniel. He protected him, thinking of the boy as if he were Alfie, and hoping that he could forget everything. The wall of rain in his mind was built, keeping everything in, and everyone out. Every memory, emotion, and feeling was kept in so that no one could read him. But every single person he came across was never able to know what he was thinking. Only Alfie would be able to.
Through all of this, Rainfur still remembered everything. Through all of this, he still felt shameful, regret for what he’d done, insane as he argued with himself, lost as he tried to figure out how to fully recover, depressed as he tried to forget, and alone even though he had Daniel now. But no one knew. They couldn’t read the pain he was feeling inside. No one knew about the battle going on within him. And since they didn’t know, they couldn’t help, and Rainfur was left to deal with it on his own. How he once liked it.
Suddenly, he woke up. It was a dream. Everything he’d just witnessed had been a dream. No, a nightmare. Not a dream filled with pleasant things your subconscious thinks up for you. A nightmare. A scary, dreadful nightmare of a memory that he never wanted to go back to.
But, as Rainfur carefully sat up, he knew that the nightmare had helped him. He knew that those emotions would always be with him, but he was stronger now. Just as StarClan had told him as they’d given this life to him. He felt safe, secure, and strong. No longer weak, dangerous, or suicidal. He was himself, and himself only.
“You must have used a lot of energy,” whispered a soft familiar voice that made Rainfur remember why he was asleep. “Your determination was remarkable but with my power being stronger than yours at the moment, you had to sleep when I told you to. I don’t know how you managed to heal me.”
Matar. The cat who’d tried to kill him. The cat who nearly killed him. The cat who was killing his brother. The cat who— Wait. This was also the cat who he nearly killed. This was also the cat who he’d saved. This was also the cat who helped him by forcing him to sleep even when he struggled.
After taking a deep breath, Rainfur looked to Matar, his expression filled with the knowledge of why he was given his life. Filled with the knowledge of StarClan who so helpfully reminded him of his mission, his promise, and his reason to return the Clans back to their normal rules. To kill Sharpstar. To remain living.
“Sorry,” Rainfur murmured, obviously surprising Matar as the brown and white cat’s eyes opened wider. He narrowed his eyes with confusion “What?” Matar chuckled a bit, his expression becoming warm and refreshing as the fear he’d just felt vanished completely.
“I should be the one saying sorry to you,” Matar explained. “You wouldn’t have collapsed if my power hadn’t accidentally gotten in the way. It made healing my wounds twice as hard, but your indescribable determination kept you going, and your energy was nearly gone by the time I forced you to sleep. Sorry about that, too. Again, my power can be a bit persuasive at times.” Rainfur’s eyes were still narrowed in confusion. His first question was answered, but the answer that Matar gave him created many more inquiries.
“What do you mean your power accidentally got in the way?” asked Rainfur, choosing one of the questions at random. “I thought it didn’t do anything unless you told it to.” Matar blinked, probably unaware of how little Rainfur knew about his own power.
After a few moments of silence, Matar finally answered with, “You are in Stormpaw’s mind. The heart of his power. It will do anything it wants as long as it has something to do with protecting their host, Stormpaw. And me, of course, because I hold most of the power, but not all of it. Some of it waves around like a never ending ocean.
“That’s why it was so hard for you. It’s like pushing something underwater. You had to push your power through the ocean of my power in order for it to come into me. Luckily for you, with the combination of both your power and my power, I was able to heal quickly. Those wounds would usually take twice as long.” Rainfur was still confused, but at least figured out a few things.
“What did you mean when you said your power was persuasive?” asked Rainfur, curiously awaiting the answer as Matar seemed to search for the most affective words.
“Well, my power could be described like a snake,” Matar explained, obviously trying hard to pick the right words so it wasn’t confusing. “It is sneaky and sly. My weakness is strength, but I am best at speed. My words are my weapon though. That’s why, if you’ve noticed, I have a high vocabulary sometimes. It’s also why my voice sort of changed from zombie-like to normal. Fear was something I wanted to test you on. And as it seemed to confuse you, though, you were never afraid.” Rainfur’s head tilted to the side a bit.
“What could my power be described as?” asked Rainfur since his mind wasn’t functioning correctly. Matar thought for a moment, but quickly smiled.
“Just as you are named Rain. The oncoming storm that brings rain to put out the fires, the danger. You are controlled by some, who could be called the clouds, but you are defensive. When you are in danger, you are deadly. You don’t like being weak. It makes you feel small. Too small. Fitting, really. Though I’ve never really thought of someone like that. You are really strange. But everything’s for a reason, right?” Rainfur smiled quickly before a small silence began.
Rain. . .Ravenstar was right to name him that. His power, his life, his soul. It all fit. Not before Alfie’s death. He remembered himself being quite happy and joyful. Always hyper, and very playful. Before his twin’s death he’d never really cared of what others thought of him, and he never really noticed when others were in pain. He was just too happy.
“You’re right,” Rainfur murmured, looking at his reflexion in the black marble floor as he did. “Everything does happen for a reason. My brother’s death made me mature.” Matar smiled to him as he looked up.
“See? There’s always a bright side to everything!” Matar said, obviously trying to cheer up the pitiful cat before him. Rainfur didn’t mind, but he didn’t really need cheering up. He needed to get back to Jactur.
A sharp pain in his head kept him away from the thought. He grimaced before realizing that he’d had to have been sleeping for quite some time if he was having headaches. Rainfur looked up to Matar, who looked alarmed as he had noticed the grey and white cat’s temporary pain a few moments ago.
“How long was I out?” asked Rainfur, his heart beating quickly as he realised that he might have missed the chance to save Jactur, who he hoped had already killed Sharpstar. Matar’s head went a bit lower before he answered, as if he expected Rainfur to freak out.
“Around seven hours,” Matar murmured. Rainfur was wondering how the powerful cat knew the word hour until he remembered Stormpaw did because he was human. Rainfur then returned to the current issue.
“Seven hours?” asked Rainfur, his eyes wide with fear. “Jactur could be dead! Why didn’t you wake me? Are they alright? Has Robinwing had her kits? Is she dead? Is she—”
“Rainfur, stop!” Matar yelled, getting the panic cat’s attention as the power around him seemed angry. It was visible now. A ring of sharp rain, circling him as if daring him to continue yelling for no apparent reason. After a few moments, everything went back to normal. Rainfur was now aware of the power though, and how unmatched he’d be if he decided to fight.
“Sorry, I got a bit angry,” Matar murmured before continuing. “Seven hours here is barely seven seconds in the real world. Nothing has happened in those seven seconds, I’ve made sure of it. Everyone’s okay from when I last checked.” Rainfur looked at him suspiciously.
“How do you know?” he asked. “Is it on those TV screens that keep steeling my memories?” It was full of sarcasm, which is why Rainfur was surprised when Matar nodded. The brown and white tom turned toward the corner of the room where the eight or so 80 inch flat TV screens were lined up and down, only showing a few lines of black wall.
“They let me see everything, whether it be memories, current events, or the past of Stormpaw,” Matar explained. “It’s a shame I can’t really see any of your human memories. But I guess you’re entitled to your privacy.” Rainfur narrowed his eyes in confusion as he stared at the TV screens.
“Is this Stormpaw’s mind?” asked Rainfur, clearly curious at the moment. “Why is it like this?” Matar shrugged beside him, frowning a bit as he answered.
“This relates to Stormpaw’s personality,” Matar explained simply. “He sees stuff others don’t. When he was human, he could see you were hurting. He could see that you weren’t right anymore.” Rainfur looked to the brown and white tom that resembled Stormpaw. His eyes portrayed how confused he was now, making Matar sigh.
“I hid everything back then!” Rainfur exclaimed, but calmed down when he got a flash of the green power around him. “How exactly—?”
“You may have been able to hide things from your father and the other strangers on the street, but Stormpaw’s your brother,” Matar said, smiling a bit. “Every moment you thought of Alfie’s death, he could see that small look of depression in your eyes. He knew you didn’t want help though, so he didn’t say anything.” A silence followed the explanation.
Rainfur pondered on what emotion he should feel. He was quite happy that at least someone knew about his. . .condition, but at the same time, he was sad that Stormpaw had to always feel pushed away because all Rainfur really ever thought about back then was Alfie.
“Would you like to see how your Clan-mates are doing?” asked Matar, breaking the awkward silence. “There is plenty of time, remember, and you still haven’t fully recovered from the battle we just fought. Let’s just see how well their coping with such a war.” Rainfur nodded, hoping not to say anything because he was still thinking.
“Hmm. . .Let’s check Stormpaw first so I know exactly what’s happening with him,” Matar decided after a few moments. “It’ll at least give me some practice since I’ve never really done this before.” So, the brown and white tom focused on the screens, breathing slowly as he concentrated on what he was trying to do.
After a few moments, all eight TV screens flashed up in different point of views of Stormpaw fighting a strong black and white tom. He seemed determined, but really tired, as if everything going on his mind was making him exhausted.
Rainfur felt sorry for him in one moment, but then he was aware of how much Stormpaw must know about taking care of himself. Not only did his little brother have to take care of his grieving father after Rainfur had ‘died’, he also just killed the black and white tom in three seconds.
“Well, it seems my partner is doing quite well,” said Matar, looking amused. “Why not see Robinwing? I’m hoping she’s had her kits. Last time I saw her she didn’t look to good. . .” The brown and white tom paused for a few seconds before he shook his head. “If I can force images of one place into these screens, why not do the lot of WindClan? Might as well see how they’re all coping.”
In just one second, all eight screens were showing WindClan’s camp. The first three were mainly how the camp was doing. The resistance to Sharpstar seemed to be doing the best, having outnumbered the opposing side completely now. Even Blackpelt was having a rough time taking on a few RiverClan cats that Rainfur didn’t know the names of.
The next five screens is what shocked Rainfur the most. First screen he looked to, he found Rosestar was dead. By who, Rainfur didn’t know, but the fact that she was dead just made him remember the first eight lives she lost. Second screen, Bravestar was also dead, lying right next to Rosestar in fact. Third worse screen was Mudpaw fighting someone, but the camera—or at least that’s what Rainfur thought of it as—wasn’t focused enough for Rainfur to clearly see the attacker. In the fourth screen, he could see clearly that it was Wolfheart the small apprentice was fighting.
Wolfheart, the lovesick cat that Rainfur had once met as an apprentice after following his mentor, Thorntail, into RiverClan territory. Wolfheart, the kind deputy who cared about his Clan dearly but not so much his kits. Wolfheart, the father of the three kits Rainfur had saved so many moons ago. Yes, he was a bully, and yes he wasn’t the nicest cat, but really? A spy for Sharpstar? That wasn’t how Rainfur knew him.
Then, on the final screen, Rainfur gasped. Robinwing, bloody as the first kit still struggled to come out, was tiring quickly. Rainfur had seen this face on Thorntail once before. Those kits weren’t as big though, and Robinwing was tiring quicker. This must have been going on for ages, meaning that his mate was close to death if those kits didn’t come out.
“It seems WindClan is winning, but your mate is not,” Matar whispered. “She is strong, though, and it could be a lot worse. Just remember, if Jactur is doing well, everything will be okay.” Rainfur nodded, still hoping not to be forced to say anything as a knot in his throat formed.
Rainfur hardly noticed when the screens changed to ThunderClan territory where so many lie dead. He didn’t know which side the majority belonged to, but he didn’t care. The one thing he noticed was that everyone had stopped fighting and was now watching two cats fight in the distance.
Jactur and Sharpstar. They were fighting, but Rainfur’s partner was losing horribly. The insanity must have turned off as his did, because Jactur wasn’t doing well at all. He was angry, mentally exhausted, and slowly dying. Rainfur’s mind suddenly switched from the regret over Stormpaw to the determination of victory over Sharpstar.
“I must go back to Jactur,” Rainfur murmured, staring at the screen as his partner continued to hiss with anger while fighting Sharpstar. Matar said nothing, but he knew that the brown and white cat was setting things up quickly, meaning that soon he was going to be reunited with Jactur.