Warriors: Fallowstep's Anguish

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The ginger she-cat lifted her eyes to the sky, the full moon perfectly clear in the silent night. Many moons had passed since her parents died, and she had long since been made a full medicine cat.

Tension crackled through the air, making her fur rise and her gaze draw back to the clearing. Behind her, Larkstar and Brightstar argued bitterly—it was about ThunderClan's senseless attack on the medicine den, which tragically resulted in the death of Larkstar's mother. Their words were tuned out into muffled sound, a habit Fallowstep found herself utilizing at every opportunity, be it intentionally or not.

But why isn't StarClan putting a stop to this? She wondered, her tail twitching as her eyes drifted.

In the clearing itself, her green gaze found her sister. Frecklesky, towering above all the other warriors, sat with her tail lashing rapidly back and forth. It was clear the cats surrounding her were intimidated by her size, leaving empty space between themselves and the tall feline. Fallowstep believed the behavior was subconscious. After all, it wasn't every day a fellow cat towered so high, especially one with such a hot temper.

And then the tortoiseshell was on her paws, her broad muzzle drawn back in a snarl and her thick pelt standing on end. Fallowstep herself burst to her feet as many in the clearing erupted into an uproar, but instead of lingering on her littermate, her eyes darted above. On the Great Rock, the two closest leaders stood, facing each other with bristling pelts and bared teeth. She ignored their argument, her eyes sliding past them to the stars beyond.

Come on, she silently urged, her tail twitching anxiously. Do it.

StarClan answered her prayers, but barely, sending a mere wisp of cloud over the moon. Fallowstep's eyes narrowed to slits as she recognized the message as hardly a protest. The gathered warriors, however, viewed it separately, their fury dissipating into frightened yowls as the silvery light once more returned.

"StarClan has spoken," Quailwish, WindClan's youthful medicine cat cried, "the Gathering must end!"

Fallowstep didn't protest as the Clan fled, and she found herself in step with her own leader, Larkstar. The she-cat's silvery eyes were dark in thought; clearly she didn't want to discuss matters, so instead, Fallowstep found herself walking alone, troubled deeply by StarClan's lack of concern. A mere wisp of cloud was nothing more than an eye-roll—did they really care so little for ShadowClan's blight?

Perhaps she should speak to them. Something was clearly amiss if they were unwilling to keep the peace at a Gathering, and maybe all they needed was some communication.

Yes, that's just what I'll do.

As the cats neared the thunderpath, more clouds began to crowd the sky until they began to weep, sending rain to slick back their pelts. Fallowstep fluffed out her fur, racing across the sheet of asphalt into the tall grass on the other side, and the pace of the patrol quickened noticeably as the downpour welcomed their arrival to the camp.

Once through the bramble barrier, she made her way towards her den, only to stop as she felt the prickle of eyes on the back of her neck. She turned to see her sister.

"Are you all right?" The tortoiseshell murmured.

Fallowstep swallowed uneasily, flicking droplets of water from her whiskers. "I don't know," she confessed. "I'm going to visit the Moonstone tomorrow. I need to speak to StarClan." Hearing the words out loud only spurred her confidence in the decision, and she continued earnestly, "I'm worried they may be against us. First, they let our herbs be destroyed, and now they hardly support us at the Gathering? What have we done wrong?"

Frecklesky shrugged, silent for a few moments. Her eyes were narrowed and uncomprehending, yet her mouth parted and closed as she struggled to find words of reassurance. The tortoiseshell leaned forward and rubbed her cheek against Fallowstep's. The ginger she-cat returned the gesture.

"We'll... be fine, I'm sure," Frecklesky mumbled helplessly.

Fallowstep chuckled softly. "You may be a fox-heart, but you truly are a great sister, Frecklesky," she mewed tenderly. "Get some rest."

Her sister smiled. "You, too."

Fallowstep slipped away, pushing through a screen of lichen and emerging into the medicine den, her eyes darting habitually to Heronwing's nest. The old tom snored in his sleep, his nose snotty and mouth drooling. A small twang of worry fluttered in the she-cat's chest. The tom was growing old; he should be long in the elder's den, but being as stubborn as he was, he simply kept pushing, insisting he'd stay by her side to keep teaching her until his time had come.

StarClan, she thought to herself, her eyes meandering to what now was a mostly-empty herb store, the ground littered with torn leaves and crushed berries, a mess from ThunderClan's cruelty that they'd yet to clean up. What more is there for me to learn?

Sighing, Fallowstep found herself in her own nest, sinking into the moss where she fell into a troubled sleep.

❀

Warning: this story may not be continued.

I simply posted this chapter to give a taste of what the story truly will be like—rough around the edges with very short chapters, while sitting in a mostly unedited state, much like where Frecklesky's Heart is right now. If I do post more, I intend to write 50%+ of the story before uploading, and if I do start uploading, I intend for it to be on a daily basis, just like it's predecessor.

I do appreciate the interest that has been shown thus far, and I certainly plan to put effort into continuing the story—but again, there is no guarantee, and this will be the last upload for a while.

As a reminder, any and all constructive criticism is welcome. I'm happy to improve where I can, I just need pointers to make the process faster.

Thank you again! ~ Kitten.

If you are reading this story on a site other than WattPad, you are at risk of a malware attack. If you wish to read this story safely and for free, please refer to my user profile, @kittennoodle, on the website of origin.