FrostClan: A Dark Tomorrow

"Did someone say... Smolderstar! That's right! I did come to the right place!" Croi lifted his head and dashed to the source of the noise. "Smolderstar, as in Tine Marbh, the Son of Shadows? No way. Ri Ghrian told me to look for knowledge of such things, as, according to him, Blossomclan and Frostclan have many shared legends, as well as an intertwined history..." The cat was talking to himself, now, padding back and forth. "Way, way back, when Ri Aigean ruled... no, before that... when... she was... whoaaaa!" The Siamese cat tripped on his paws in his intense focus and landed on his face in the dirt.

Smokemask scowled, but nodded. He padded a few steps away before yowling "Relicheart! Foggypath! Come along for a patrol with your apprentices." Smokemask's whiskers twitched in distaste, at the sight of the apprentices.

"It's their time already, eh." Oldstep yawned from where he lay, his voice thin and raspy. He glanced around at the apprentices with a wavering eye. "Settle down, Bruntwhisker." he added, with a chuckle, turning to his den mate. "No need to scare off, the young ones."

"Well, its a good thing you're not a kit anymore. Now its just my train orders that you'll have worry about!" mused the large red tabby and black tom.

Hellspire rolled his eyes and smirked,"Oh come on Quartzy! Lighten up, why don't ya?" His long pelt was gleaming dimmly and his eyes dark. "How about getting me something to eat? Something fresh, not from the pile."

With a roar of frustration, Quartzprickle stormed out of the clearing, into the forest. Her thick pelt swayed as she cursed the tom under her breath. Damn it all! After hunting for that helpless moron, I'm gonna head to the altar of the Soul Priestess. Surely she can push me forward into this hell hole I call life.

Deltapaw shuffled her paws. She was utterly terrified of all the toms, and was so shy, that she had no friends. It was lucky for her that her brother was just as antisocial so clung to him with all her strength.

"I DON'T KNOW 'BOUT YOU, BUT I DON'T THINK THAT'S ME!" Yelled Burntwhisker to the elders' den as he slowly padded towards it. "Croi, get your Irish, rat loving face out of my nest and go hunting or something." Croi stumbled a moment.

"Sorry." He said, then turned and ran away from the den.

"Yup. Weird kid. Probably just a loner with a few screws loose. I mean, come on, who's ever heard of Blossomclan?" Burntwhisker scoffed, settling down into his nest.

"That Irish mutt still yammering to himself?" Ghostsong meowed, giving up on her nap. Old cats didn't need as much sleep as the younger ones, didn't mean she didn't like it. "I swear things keep on getting stranger and stranger. First those Rogues roll around in FlameClan scent markers and attack our dear hunters, then travellers from across the blue come out of nowhere. What's next? Ghosts!"

Sleetpaw was growing bored of the conversation, mostly because it was skittish Cursekit, squeaky Mangokit and annoying Lavapaw. "I'm going to go out!" She announced, as though she was the most important thing in camp. May as well get started on my stalking She thought, and tried her best to follow her elder sibling quietly

"Yep. Ghosts."

"OH DEAR STARCLAN, WHAT WAS THAT!" Burntwhisker jumped, rolling over and swatting at the air. "Haha, nice one, Ghostsong. You're getting good at thiat voice changing thingy, y'almost had me fooled there!" He chuckled, rolling back over and wrapping his tail around his paws.

"Relicheart!" Smokemask yowled again, louder this time. The smoky gray tom was quickly losing his patience.

Oldstep's tail flickered. "Settle down, Burntwhisker." he mewed, not hearing anything. "Your much too easily riled these days." he paused. "What you need, is some food in your belly."

Lavapaw chuckled lightly, his tail swishing through the air. He was eager for training, he wanted to quickly become a warrior.

(( worst time ever for wb))

Without turning her head, the cool voice of Quartzprickle sounded.

"You think I'm stupid? Uggg what for want, tick-for-brains? Can't you see I'm busy?" Her fur was prickled, the clearish spines gleaming silver through the canopy.

Relicheart had gotten up, stated his farwells to the youngers cats and meowed,"Lavapaw. Shadderpaw. Lets go!" His shapely figure trampled through the camp entrance as he headed after the tom leading the patrol.

"Yes of course." Ghostsong drawled, obviously Burntwhisker was going mad and hearing things. "I think I'll get my own food today, the sun is looking mighty fine and I want to enjoy it before Leaf-Fall hits us in all his glory." She grunted. "I saw a rabbit on the pile, big enough for us old biddies." She rasped, pushing to her feet and walking slowly but steadily out into the clearing. She saw one of the warrior apprentices trying for the rabbit. She smacked him with a heavy paw. "Off you go Roguepaw, this is old cat food." The surly creature hissed at her but bounded away. She grabbed it in her jaws and dragged the massive thing back. She made a mental note to thank the hunter that caught it.

Sleetpaw stumbled out of the undergrowth. "They where boring and the other Hunters are busy... busier. Then you. Actually hunting, you know. So where are we going?" She asked

Quartzprickle snorted, and grumbled,"Hunting for that warrior with an IQ of today's temperature." She shivered despite her thick pelt, to prove her point of how simple-minded Hellspire was compared to the dropping warmth. "Afterwards, I'ma gonna head to the altar of the Soul Priestess. I'm sure in some of the stories you've heard as a kit, you've at least heard of the name Soulthunder, right? Well, she didn't pass on to Starclan. Instead, her spirit remains in her burial site, and when she-cats come to speak to her, she replies, unlike the Starclan who looks upon we she-cats no longer."

"Finally." Smokemask grumbled. He turned to the camp entrance and led the way out.

Lavapaw was eagerly on his mentor's heels, bounding alongside him. He had wandered out of the camp, a few times as a kit, but never for long. Now he could finally truly see what was outside of the camp.

"Quite the plump rabbit, you got there." Oldstep said, with a glance at the prey. He padded closer to the prey on aching joints, then flopped down in front of it. "It almost smells as good as it looks." he said, with a sharp intake of raspy breath.

"Roguepaw!" Dusksoul sharply called, sitting up, and calling his apprentice over. His purple eyes seemed to bore into the young tom.

Foggypath padded after Smokemask, shooting a glance at Shadderpaw as he did so.

Owlpaw's ears were perked up. He'd been listening to Relicheart's story. He personally thought it was great, even though the tom wasn't the best storyteller, but the others didn't seem to think so.

((WB... Horrible. I have no idea what to do with my charries at the moment.))

Roguepaw grumbled, he'd been just about to swipe a sparrow for himself when his mentor called. The young tom was a burnt orange in colour, his fur akin to the setting sun or fire, in contrast to his eyes, which were a pale blue rimmed with black, like a raccoon mask. "Coming!" Was his reply, short and sharp with a hint of attitude.

"Oh yeah, didn't she live two lives? One as a wanderer and another as a clan cat?" Sleetpaw asked, her interest peaked. Her ears twitched as though trying to capture the whispers from the long dead cat. "But wait, I haven't heard anything about StarClan abandoning us.... mother says they watch us all." She was confused again.

Ghostsong chuckled, the sound more like a cough then a laugh. "Still got it's green-leaf fat." She purred, biting right into it's soft belly.

Shadderpaw padded slowly behind the others by a few tail lengths. His murky looking fur seemed to perfectly match his personality as he trudged along. His pale blue and yellow eyes flashing, he grumbled as his mentor wasn't among them.

Relicheart dipped his head to Dusksoul, his large eyes gleaming with an unreadable power. "Yes yes, we're here. No need to get your tail in a twist." Lifting his head, his wisdom seemed to show at the moment he opened his maw to drink in the scents. "You were right to want a border patrol. I can scent a group of Boulderclan cats lurking too close to the border."

Shadderpaw rolled his eyes and muttered,"Seems his perviness has worn off....at least, for now."

(( Smokemask is leading the patrol, not Dusksoul ))

"Let's take care of that, Shall we?" Smokemask said, his eyes suddenly lit with energy. With a grim expression, the senior warrior quickly bounded towards the border.

Lavapaw's eyes widened. Boulderclan? Was he about to be in his first battle? His tail flickered, with excitement and a certain amount of hesitant fear.

Dusksoul nodded, as his apprentice came over. "It is time to test your battle skills." he said, with a slight growl.

"And thank Starclan for that." Oldstep said, tearing into the rabbits hindleg.

Mintpaw walked into the med. cat's den, ignoring his mentor, and started checking the herb stock. He noticed that the catmint was low, so he walked out and headed torward the forest.

(Sorry. Still trying to remember everyones names )

Quartzprickle scoffed. "Starclan?! Watching over us?! All of us?!?! Hah! Yeah, kid, just keep letting your mommy tell you that!" She snorted and paused to scent the air. Resuming her walking, she replied,"Yeah. Soulthunder had two lives. However, both of them, she lived as a traveler. She was never really accepted as a clan cat, not even by herself. Though she was powerful, her ability to speak with lost souls and spirits caused her much depression, though she hid it well, she couldn't ever fully compare herself to a warrior."

Relicheart bounded off, pebbles tumbling away from where each paws crushed the ground. His long black mane fluttered in the rush of the wind as he barreled after the other tom, olive eyes filled with uncertainty.

Shadderpaw groaned and leaped forward, his paws clambering as he tried to keep up. This is what I get for lagging behind. He paused as he caught the scent from behind him. "Hey! Stop!" He then froze as he spun, now standing face to face with a whole patrol of Boulderclan cats.

"I hear all these stories about she-cat warriors. But it all seems so surreal, we are actually going to talk to one." It wasn't really a question, more an awed statement of fact. "You only hear those stories if you get Ghostsong while the other two are sleeping. Like Rosethorn who fought with the swiftness of the wind, or Grass-Star, who united the clans against the pack threat." Sleetpaw listed off a few more but her voice railed away, the air felt different suddenly.

"We need to test them?" Roguepaw grumbled in annoyance. "I can rip the fur off the others in a heartbeat." He meowed, sticking his chest out and raising his tail. But he shook of the bravado and went back to being bored with the idea that he was somehow lacking.

It was easy, when they where like this, to forget the divide and just pretend they were all equal, which in their age she supposed they were. Too old for anything but stories, grumbling and food. Any one who said these where golden moons can shove their paw right up their mouth. Ghostsong missed the thrill of the chase, of hunting and fighting with her friends beside her. The rules had been new and lenient back then. They could still fight if the territory was attacked, but they where never chosen to go on the offensive. She missed being Phantomfur.

Cursekit had noticed some cats talking about ghosts. They shouldn't joke about ghosts, she thought. She'd always believed in ghosts when she heard stories of them. In fact the small, shivering, pitiful kit was always scared that there would be ghosts following her, trying to get vengence for how she murdered her mother so brutally. But I didn't mean to! she wanted to scream.

(@People with writer's block: IKR???!!!)

Quartzprickle sighed and meowed,"Yes, well, follow me. Let's gather up some prey and I'll take you to later when I go to see her." She rested her tail on Sleetpaw's shoulder, for the first time, she felt sorta close to the smaller cat.

"Damn it, you mouse-brain trolls! This isn't mallow! You dare think me a fool?!""
The elder cat seemed to completely ignore Shadderpaw standing a few tail lengths away. Her pelt was thin and ratty, her bony spine showing. Her blood red eyes glowed dimly against her dark gray tabby fur. Scars covered her from ear to tail as she pawed a herb.

"Errrk mother, we're sorry!" mewed a black tom with pale blue eyes and dark purplish rings around his eyes and tail.

"Yes, Runeprayer, Smogwhisker is right! Besides, how are we supposed to know what mallow looks like?" cried another. A light sandy ginger she-cat with dark orange eyes flanked the elderly she-cat who sought out herbs.

"Riftflight! Calm your tone around Mother. She needs gentle nurturing." muttered the last cat, a black tom with long, ragged white markings making him look like a skeleton.

Shadderpaw recognized the last tom as Bonetail, the tom was often spoken in stories of looking like the risen dead. Shadderpaw thought that the tom would be terrifying, but Bonetail's soft yellow eyes and white spot-like mask was filled with kindness and emotion.

"Oh Bonetail. I'm as fit as a fiddle. No being soft on me...though you were always my favorite kit." mused Runeprayer, not caring if what she said hurt the other kits of hers. Smogwhisker and Riftflight took no mind of their mother's words, knowing hos rude and blunt she could be.

Sleetpaw's fur prickled with excitement, she was actually going to do something. "Where is the best place to look." She questioned carefully. Looking around and making her fur lay flat, if she wasn't careful her pelt would end up as prickly as her sisters.

(I've got to get a couple hours rest guys. It's 5:45 in the morning and I haven't slept yet.)

(RAWR! I don't have anything to do!)

Featherpaw hissed at a leaf, springing on it with excellent grace. She wished the leaf were a Flameclan warrior, so she could rip it to shreds and watch it slowly bleed out. But it wasn't a warrior, and she would never have the sensation of sinking her claws into an enemy cat. The only thing she would ever sink her claws into was prey that she had to give to the arrogant toms. She especially hated Shadowcore, who always made her fetch his prey. She felt like a slave to him, doing his bidding or being punished. Why, Starclan? Why would you let us live like this? You're all just a bunch of bastards! Starclan is full of inconsiderate, self-centered, arrogant toms! She yelled mentally, seething with rage.

(alrighty nighty night!)
Quartzprickle chuckled softly as she looked down at her father's younger daughter, noticing her pelt laying flat. "Don't worry. Its said my pelt's only this way because my soul was cold and bitter from such a young age. Your so kind and happy, your pelt won't end up the same." And with that, she scented the air. "Mmm! I smell a vole nearby."

(Is Featherpaw out in the forest??)

(Yeah, totally. She wouldn't attack a leaf in camp. She'd look like a kit.)


Featherpaw pricked her ears, suddenly hearing as small scuttling noise in the bushes. She hungrily leaped on a mouse, killing it instantly with claws. The toms won't get this one. They should catch their own food! she thought angrily. The small, white she-cat dug into her catch, eating the prey messily.

Catching her scent, Shadderpaw yowled,"Featherpaw!! Assistance!" He hoped the she-cat would come to join him, but knowing her distaste for toms, he wasn't so sure.

Smogwhisker looked up, his pale blue eyes seeing Shadderpaw within the gorse. "Hey!! Hey you!" Trying to sound strong and brave, the Boulderclan warrior fluffed up his fur.