Softsoul's Threat: A Warriors Fanfiction (ON HOLD.)

Chapter 3 (By @Frostwind88)

Credit to Frostwind88 for winning the writing competition for this book. Go follow 'em!

Well, as it turned out, cleaning out the elders’ den was the most awful thing in history. The next day, Softpaw was assigned on “cleaning den duty” with Elmpaw and Beepaw. They also had to do the elders’ ticks, something that Vixenpaw and Rosepaw had avoided the previous day. The thing was, Softpaw had been really bored as a kit, so he’d spent a lot of time around the elders before he got bored of them. That meant they all knew him really well, but it also meant that he already knew all the stories they had to say. Leapheart, Fallowleaf and Brightwhite had all purred in happiness when he had stepped into their den. He had to admit, it had been ages since he’d last seen them, but that was because he was bored of their stories. And now he had to endure a whole lot more of that while cleaning out their den and doing their ticks!

“Softpaw! I’m saying Softpaw and not Softkit now!” Leapheart meowed in her cringey way, before bending down to let him do her ticks. “Don’t worry, our den’s pretty clean right now. Rosepaw and Vixenpaw sure were thorough, weren’t they?” She looked around to her roommates, and they all nodded in agreement. “So, what story do you want to hear today?” “Hmm,” said Elmpaw. “Tell me about the leader before Lightstar! Who was he? I can’t remember!” “I’ve already heard that one!” Softpaw whined. “It was Jetstar who wasn’t a very good leader, so Lightstar had to overthrow him.” “Sounds like a great story!” Elmpaw meowed, his eyes shining. “Yeah, but it’s boring! I’ve heard it before!” Softpaw complained. Was Elmpaw going to insist on making Softpaw hear that same old story all over again? He didn’t want to, obviously. Why would he? It hadn’t been a particularly interesting story (not true, he had been hooked at the time), and he’d already listened to it twice before, once by himself and one when Rosepaw – then Rosekit – had chosen to join him in it.

Elmpaw glared at him. “You’re going to ruin all the tales! It’s not my fault you hung around the elders so much when you were a kit!” “And it’s not my fault you didn’t!” Softpaw fought back. He wasn’t very used to fighting with Elmpaw like that, although they had fought a lot as kits. Usually, they were just good friends, and everything went okay. “Apprentices, calm down,” Fallowleaf said in his boring voice. “Look, if Softpaw doesn’t want to hear it, let’s find a tale he hasn’t heard.” The elders glanced at one another. “What tale hasn’t he heard?” Brightwhite asked dubiously. “Hmm, do you remember the tale of the three great leaders?” Leapheart mused. “He heard that one!” Fallowleaf objected. “He was very young then. Softpaw, do you remember?” Leapheart asked. Softpaw thought about it for a moment, then shook his head wryly. How couldn’t he remember? He remembered the name, but not the storyline. Leapheart shot Fallowleaf a contemptuous smile, then turned back to Softpaw. “Well, here’s how it goes…” It turned out to be a fairly interesting story that seemed to make time pass faster, which was good, because he would have bored to death doing their ticks otherwise. He’d taken Fallowleaf, and it turned out to be a horrible mistake. He was still finding ticks long after Elmpaw and Beepaw had deemed Brightwhite and Leapheart tick-free. When it was finally over, Softpaw stormed away. The tale had been nice, but not worth it. Too much time wasted on ticks! Why couldn’t the elders do each other’s ticks? Wouldn’t that be, well, a lot easier than forcing the apprentices to do it? “Hi, Softpaw,” came a sweet voice that dashed all of those awful thoughts from his mind. “Hi, Rosepaw,” he replied, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking. “How were the elders? Did they manage to find a story you haven’t heard?” Rosepaw purred in amusement. “Seeing how you are right now, they didn’t, did they? They repeated a tale.”

“Yeah, but that isn’t what’s wrong about it. Rosepaw, I picked Fallowleaf to do his ticks,” Softpaw meowed with a sigh, “and guess what? He had the most, and I was still plucking off ticks when everyone else was done. I bet my paws reek of mouse bile, but I’m breathing through my mouth so I don’t smell it.” “Yeah, they do stink a little. Stinko!” Rosepaw teased, before dashing away. She seemed to have become good friends with Vixenpaw. They were always friends as kits, but they were besties now. Softpaw couldn’t withhold a pang of jealousy. Beepaw and Elmpaw were chatting animatedly too, but he was alone. Why did their batch have to be in an odd number? “Hey, Softpaw. Did that story satisfy you? You seemed awfully upset,” Elmpaw meowed. “Look, sorry about that. But I really wanted to hear about Jetstar, you know. Why did you hang out with the elders so much as a kit, anyway? Don’t you get that’s why they’re boring to you now, plus you have no friends? As a kit, you hung out with the elders, and now you’re an apprentice, you needed to have been friends with your fellows, but you aren’t. Hey, I’m willing to start over, but my best friend is your littermate Beepaw. You couldn’t fill that spot, I’m so sorry. You really never could. Beepaw is like the best cat in the world. You are his inferior brother.” Softpaw winced when Elmpaw said that. He wasn’t inferior to Beepaw! But apparently, in Elmpaw’s eyes, he was. And in Rosepaw’s eyes, he was inferior to Vixenpaw. No one was ever going to be his true friend, would they?

***

After two weeks of wallowing in his own loneliness, something strange happened. A mysterious rogue around six moons was accepted into the Clan. He was lonely like Softpaw, being a newcomer, and he’d never had much interaction with any cats in his life. His mother had abandoned him when he was very young, which explained why he was so skinny. His body was a mess of scars, like he’d been in a lot of fights with unsheathed claws.

His name had been Mystique, and he hadn’t let them change that. Sure, he was in a Clan now, but he was always going to keep his name, the last thing he had from his mother. Sure, she’d abandoned him, but he hadn’t ever forgotten how gentle and loving she’d been with him. So, Mystique was his name. Not Something-paw. “Er, hi, Mystique. My name’s Softpaw.” Softpaw tried to approach Mystique and asked. He almost said, ‘what’s yours?’ before remembering he’d already said, ‘hi, Mystique’. He was quite messy with names, which wasn’t helping him any. “Hi. Softpaw.” Mystique looked a little puzzled by that name, making him seem eons older than he actually was. And eons older than Softpaw. “You look really old,” Softpaw blurted. “Are you really six moons?” “I know, I talk like an elder, don’t I?” Mystique asked, some humor glimmering in his eyes. “But look at my size. I’m the size of a six-moon-old apprentice, I just speak like an elder.” “Er…. Okay,” Softpaw meowed. Well, that definitely wasn’t good! How did he go around speaking like an elder? “I know. It’s odd. It’s the way my mother used to speak. I do not drop anything my mother did or taught me,” Mystique explained. “But… she abandoned you!” Softpaw protested. “Shouldn’t you let her go? She isn’t your mother anymore. She just left you!” “Leaving me taught me many lessons. And she is still my mother.” Mystique looked away. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you have siblings? I’m from a three-kit litter, but my two siblings, Darkness and Mystery, didn’t survive when Mother left us. I’ve been told one-kit litters are really rare.” “Oh, I’m not from a one-kit litter,” Softpaw meowed. “My siblings are Beepaw and Vixenpaw, only they have their own best friends, so we’re not together.” “Ah. So you are like me. My siblings are gone, your siblings practically are.” Mystique really talked like an ancient cat!

“Could you try to talk normal, please?” Softpaw asked. He waited. And waited. And there was no response. Mystique was wearing a calculating look, as if he didn’t know how to talk normally. Softpaw waited patiently. If this would be what made Mystique change his talking style to one more fitting for his age, then he could wait worlds! After all, he wanted to become friends with Mystique. If it was going to take him hours, even days, he could wait. “Sure, I suppose,” Mystique finally said. It was what a warrior might say. But apprentices often mimicked warriors, so that was good enough. “Great! Always talk like that!” Softpaw cheered. “Affirma- Okay,” Mystique agreed. Softpaw gave him a bleak look. He’d almost caught Mystique saying ‘affirmative’. What cat his age said that, anyway?! Affirmative? That was for ancients! Actually, even the elders didn’t say that! “It’s a habit,” Mystique said in annoyance. “Yes… okay. Do you want to be friends?” Softpaw asked. “We’re talking, aren’t we?” Mystique asked. “Are friends ever more than the passing conversation?” Softpaw gave Mystique a horrified look, and the black tom let out a long-suffering sigh. Did he really find Softpaw so insufferable? Mystique seemed to know nothing about Clan life! About normal life! His mother must be the strangest cat in the galaxy! The way she talked made her sound like an elder, and to be able to have her first litter of kits, she must’ve been reasonably young. Then the way he looked down upon the apprentices, like he was superior (although he never said that, obviously). And then now, when Softpaw commented on him, he gave a long-suffering sigh. “You should try to act younger!” Softpaw tried. It was Mystique’s turn to give him a bleak look. “What, googoo gaga, I’m a newborn kit!” he exclaimed sarcastically. “Not like that! I mean, can you act six moons? Please? I wanna be friends. But you aren’t letting us. You can’t always act old!” Softpaw protested.

“Actually, yes I can, because one day, I will get old. You don’t grow younger, so acting young won’t do you any good. But acting old can prepare you for your future.” Mystique looked away. “You are weird,” was all Softpaw could mutter before he stalked away. He had really hoped that was going to work. A close bond, a friendship between him and Mystique. But…no? Was Mystique too strange, too old-acting to be his friend? If so, he’d remain friendless, and so would Mystique. Softpaw didn’t want that to happen, but it was kind of the only choice he had, wasn’t it? What had his life become?