She noticed everything. She was different; the Clan tried to hide it, but she noticed the stares, the whispers. Truth be told, she wasn't much to look at; black fur, amber eyes and a slightly lopsided jaw.
Ravenpaw was different. Born to Cloudstorm and Strikeclaw, her littermate Nightkit had died from a nasty case of greencough that had struck the camp. The Clan, as always, blamed her. She was apprenticed to Russetfeather and had trained to be a tunneler for a moon now. Other cats avoided her; her only friend was Breezepaw, a silvery she-cat. Breezepaw knew what it was like to be different, as she was blind.
This wouldn't hinder her in her warrior training, though, thought Ravenpaw. One didn't need sight in the tunnels. With the cool earth brushing against their pelts, comforting darkness surrounding them, all they needed were their whiskers, good hearing and great speed - something that all WindClan cats possessed.
She was different, in that she could not hunt very well due to her lopsided jaw. Battle training was difficult, too - she was mediocre at best. For some strange reason, Shadesong had often tried to convince Ravenpaw to become a medicine cat, despite the fact that her jaw would make it almost impossible to chew herbs properly.
"-venpaw. Ravenpaw!" Breezepaw's soft, lilting voice wove its way through the thick, heavy fog of thought, bringing Ravenpaw up from the clutches of near-sleep. She got to her paws, grumbling as she did so. Breezepaw stood nearby, feathery markings rippling on her silver pelt. Her blank, blind eyes stared dreamily at Ravenpaw, somehow managing to see straight through her, into her spirit. "We're late for patrol. It's long past sunrise."
Ravenpaw padded past her. "I don't know how you manage to tell where the sun is without asking any cat." she mewed. Breezepaw just knew things instinctively. "Perhaps you should become a medicine cat, with how much you know."
Breezepaw stopped, looking up at the pale sky through a blue haze. "Perhaps, in another lifetime, I would be." She murmered softly. "Perhaps in another Clan, another time, another world. But not this one. I need not be a grumpy half-Clan medicine cat, made so because of blindness."
Ravenpaw blinked in confusion. Which cat had said anything about grumpiness, or a half-Clan cat? Sometimes Breezepaw could be that way. She dismissed it, and chose a small hare from the fresh-kill pile. Ravenpaw finished it quickly before following Spottedpelt into the tunnels.
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Author's Note: Yes, Breezepaw has the power to see into canon. I write her like I do Luna Lovegood, and it confuses me.
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Flight Of A Raven
Fanfiction"Beware the bird of night, or else darkness will be carried on the breeze. Only the spilling of blood will disperse the mists of leafbare. Beware the bird of night! Beware the raven!" Ravenflight's life has been a misery - a prophecy made before her...
