Warriors: What Is There To Do?

Chapter 30- I Have a Plan

Jaws were locked with unspoken words of confession. Why had she gone over here, again? Could she not have waited until the morning? She didn't know how to start explaining.

"Splitrain? Is something the matter?" Sharpstar's concerned mew shook Splitrain's courage. What was she going to do?

Just tell the truth, mouse-brain, a voice in her head muttered, and tell her about your plan.

Splitrain set her shoulders, narrowed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

"I have a plan, on how we can ambush Riverclan."

The russet Shadowclan leader tensed. She saw Sharpstar's claws slide out of their sheathes just slightly.

"What do you mean, Splitrain? A plan? What nonsense are you speaking?"

"I know Riverclan has pushed us around; all of the Clans know how they've been sniffing around everyone's borders. They have been stealing prey from us, but I know with no proof you are too wise to accuse. Well, Glowstar has invited me back to Riverclan. She expects an answer tomorrow night at the Gathering. We can use this to our advantage! Maybe there is no need to attack right now, but you, I, and every other cat knows that in this lifetime there will be a battle. What better way to be prepared than to..."

She drifted off, knowing Sharpstar knew what she was going to finish with.

Chest heaving from the quiet excitement bubbling in her chest, Splitrain waited in a tangible silence. She could see the thoughts as they entered Sharpstar's mind, the leader looking thoughtful with a dark glint in her eye.

The very thought of her plan a moon ago would've been scoffed at immediately by Splitrain, and even now, knowing this idea came from her head, disturbed her the slightest bit.

I'm doing as a warrior should. I'm taking advantage and using the chances around me, and making sure my clan ends out on top. The Warrior Code has nothing against this, and neither do I.

Sharpstar looked at the leaves lying around the den. She pawed them closer, and beckoned Splitrain over.

"These are paw leaves. The black rock is a mark. I use these for battle strategy and planning. Can I ask you this: what will your plan accomplish? I know what you're thinking, but how will this help?"

The stars, still hovering in a cloudless night sky, seemed to peer into the den, peeking to see what might happen in the depths of these two cat's minds. What plan they were making, and if it would unravel the future as much as they were sure it would.

...

Paw steps silent, breathing clouding in the air above them, the light of a full moon glaring frigidly down on the small pack of cats huddled around each other behind the shadow of a huge oak. Stars glitter down distantly, and a little ways away hundreds of cats speak and share tongues, completely unaware.

Hunched backs against the wind, the small groups whisper heatedly and hiss. But eventually this, too, falls silent. There is an agreement. Three leaders bow their heads and wish luck to a small warrior.

Parting their separate ways, each calls a loud yowl into the cold night. Four groups of cats quiet down. Tails wrapped around paws, they each declare one piece of news or another. The third one speaks to the fourth loudly, for every cat to hear.

Several gasps from one group, along with a couple of hisses. Another group exchanges a series of smirks and dark, conceited chuckles. Two others look around them, confused.

From the gasping crowd one cat steps forward and bows her head to the four up in the trees. Grumbles are heard throughout the clearing, some angry yowls calling out offensive names to this particular cat, as she leaves the group and becomes swallowed by the other.

Scandalous looks are shared. Whispers arise, but upon the trees three stay stoic, one gleeful. Three secretly dreading what is to come, one partially surprised.

The groups disband. One has to drag away a couple who are yowling angrily at the cat who had joined the other group. A tom and a she-cat. The tom is broken, the she-cat hurt; both furious. Two more toms stand nearby, looking lost.

The she-cat that is now surrounded by cats smelling of fish and reeds takes the angry glares and remarks to heart with a mask of indifference. Her eyes are hurt, but she masks the eyes brimming with unshed, uncertain tears behind a cloud of cold breath that the weather creates. She backs away slowly, and fights the urge to yowl to the sky.

A grey tom places a tail over her back, guiding her forward, and sends a frosty look at all other cats. They create a small circle around them, and follow a stream into the darkness.

That night, on that Gathering, Starclan itself was split in two. Half wanted to do one thing. Others another. Both were right and wrong. The past was in stone, but the future, after this night, was sure to change more times than any could count.

Only three smiles emerged that night from the cold. One hateful, one excited, and one was certainly

Not.

Good.