The Rise of a Tyrant

Chapter 11 // Beachpaw

Trigger warning: Internalised homophobia! (I included this because its a real problem, one that I've dealt with, and it needs to be better known.)

Beachpaw's chest felt heavier as he walked around camp. It wasn't the poison, the poison was long gone. It was the feeling of unexpected... grief. It was strange, Flamingopelt had never been around him, not even as a kit. Yet, he still felt so deeply hollow inside. The clan had just disbanded from the apprentice ceremony, and Beachpaw flicked his ears as Crashcloud went around to individual cats, announcing which ones were going to the gathering that night.

Beachpaw knew he wouldn't be one of them. It was okay, really, because he didn't feel like going. 

Beachpaw walked back to the apprentice den, getting back into nis nest. He had nothing else he could do, as Pooldune had told him prior that he should avoid walking around unattended, in case he started seizing again. Beachpaw really didn't think he would start doing that, since the poison felt it had long worn off, but oh well. He didn't have much of a choice.

Beachpaw crouched back in his mossy nest, blinking as he started to daydream. Things had been so quiet lately. Beachpaw was still in disbelief from when rumours of the red tide had spread around camp. It couldn't have been blood, they said, so what was it? It would make sense of why so many cats had... Flamingopelt had... Beachpaw flinched, and steered his thoughts away from the subject. 

The water had been red for a while, multiple days, even. It couldn't possibly be a sign from Cloudclan, could it? Beachpaw had always been curious about the possible visions a leader or medicine cat could recieve. He didn't think a sign from Cloudclan would kill off clan cats, though. Could it be a sign from someone else? Who would send something like that? Can anyone else send something like that? 

Beachpaw frowned, shaking his head. Why am I thinking so hard about this? It could be completely natural.

Instead, Beachpaw's thoughts turned towards the clan itself - mostly his apprentice-mates. 

Shellpaw, she seems to be doing okay. Beachpaw laid his head on the brim of the nest as he thought about his sister. I guess she cared about our mother a lot less. After all, she's always been the one to place blame on others instead of herself. "It wasn't our fault our mother didn't love us." That can be a good thing to think, I guess.

Stormpaw definitely likes Shellpaw. Beachpaw observed, yawning. The fluffy grey tom's crush was so one-sided it hurt Beachpaw to think about. 

Then his mind wandered to Rockpaw. Rockpaw... he's, um, annoying. Yeah. There was something Beachpaw couldn't quite put his paw on. He stopped thinking about it right away, why should he? It was probably nothing.

We've all been apprentices for a while, Beachpaw observed. He hadn't really thought about what his warrior name could be, but he started thinking about other cats. 

Shellpaw, hmm... Shelltail? Shellclaw? Shellfur? The list went on, and Beachpaw was racking his brain, trying to think of all the suffixes he could possibly imagine. His imagination soared, and he realised he quite liked coming up with names, it was a good way to pass the time.

***

He didn't know how much time had passed, but by then, Beachpaw had used his claw against the sandy soil to draw countless cats gathering below the fallentree, keeping in mind what he had seen earlier that morning. At the top of the fallentree, he had drawn himself in the place of leader. He purred as he imagined having an entire den to himself, where he could be able to decorate and draw on it to his heart's desire. He finished by adding a diamond-shaped star on his head, something all cats used to symbolise their leader's nine lives. 

There was a rustle, startling Beachpaw out of his trance, and he shot his head up, looking around the apprentice's den. 

Mouse? His instincts immediately shouted, but the cream tom sat still. The rustle suddenly came from behind him, and a cat mewed.

"Boo!"

Beachpaw gasped and cringed away, before his nose picked up on the scent. "Rockpaw!" He scowled. "How long have you been there?"

The mischievous tom sat near the branches of the bush, yellow eyes glowing, before his face dropped into a more serious look. It was a look Beachpaw wasn't expecting.

"The water is still a bit red." He said.

"Oh." Beachpaw responded, half dazedly. He kept looking at Rockpaw because he felt something strange he couldn't quite put his paw on. The tom noticed, however, and Beachpaw promptly glanced away, shoulders fluffing.

"What's this?" Rockpaw's voice immediately grew chaotic again as he trotted over to Beachpaw's side. To the cream tom's horror, he realised Rockpaw was inspecting his drawing. An awkward moment passed before Rockpaw purred.

"You wanna be leader? Nuh uh, that's what I'm gonna be!" He snorted, cuffing Beachpaw over the ear. 

Taken aback, Beachpaw glared playfully at the tom. "No way, I drew you as my deputy!" He responded, pointing at the cat with freckles he had drawn beside the Fallentree. Confused for a moment, Beachpaw looked back up at Rockpaw, who was looking at the drawing in a state of somewhat disbelief.

"You did?" Rockpaw mewed, fur prickling. Beachpaw's eyes widened and he looked back at the drawing, feeling his fur grow hot. 

The cream tom sank into his own fur. "I mean, I... uh..." Not knowing what to say, he stole a quick glance once again at Rockpaw, and saw that the brown tom's yellow eyes were gleaming. They sparkled in a way that set Beachpaw's heart ablaze, and with a shocking moment of realisation, he uncovered the reason he'd thought something was off.

He liked Rockpaw, didn't he?

No! He can't, he hates Rockpaw! Rockpaw is annoying!

Beachpaw shivered. A tom liking another tom... that's not a thing, is it? I'm supposed to like she-cats! How else am I supposed to serve my clan if I can't help create kits?

"Are you okay?" Rockpaw's expression suddenly appeared extremely concerned, and Beachpaw snapped out of his trance, feeling deeply ashamed but extremely flustered. 

"Please don't start seizing again..." Rockpaw murmured worriedly. "Do I need to fetch Pooldune... or Raventalon?" 

"No! No, uh, it's okay!" Beachpaw placed his paw on Rockpaw's before he could stand up. The place where his and Rockpaw's paws touched started tingling with nervousness and warmth. 

Beachpaw watched Rockpaw's shoulders relax as he sighed. "Okay, thank Cloudclan." 

"So..." Beachpaw began, wanting to avoid the awkwardness but not wanting Rockpaw to go yet. "...You going to the gathering?"

Rockpaw nodded halfheartedly. "Yeah, I am."

"Okay, cool, tell me what happens...?" Beachpaw requested, and Rockpaw nodded again, this time more eager. 

"I'll tell you all about it tomorrow." The brown tom mewed. "It'll be my first duty as your deputy!"

Beachpaw's heart skipped a beat. Was this leader-deputy deal going to be a thing now? He didn't know if he could emotionally handle talking to Rockpaw so much. 

"Y-yeah." Beachpaw responded sheepishly. "It will."

Rockpaw gave Beachpaw a warm glance before touching his nose to Beachpaw's ear and walking out of the den. "I'm getting fresh-kill, if you want to join me."

Beachpaw's thoughts were telling him no, but his paws were already moving him forward, and he couldn't help joining the pretty tom to eat while watching the sun sink into the Skypool. 

As long as it's a nice feeling, I think it's okay. Beachpaw thought. I don't want to think about bad things anymore.