Chapter Text
Before we start the chapter, here's the answers to the Q&A!
SassyTrio130 Asks: Longtail, how do you feel about Firepaw’s tendency to get hurt all the time?
Longtail snarled and pawed at the dirt, his claws unsheathed. “It’s infuriating,” he said. “In Starclan, I could at least excuse his recklessness - we’re all putting our lives in danger, after all, and it isn’t as if his choices are unreasonable there. At most, he gets blindsided, and I ha-” Longtail cut himself off with a blush and cleared his throat. “I mean, one of us has to protect him.
“But, then there are times where his good heart gets him in trouble, like when he decided it would be a great idea to strongarm Bluestar into bringing him to the Shadowclan raid. I just… don’t understand why. I get that I was wrong when I told him that stretching his loyalties and worrying about those outside of our clan is a bad thing, but the fact that he puts himself at risk every time he pulls some mouse-brained stunt… that doesn’t change. Surely, there must be a limit. Surely there has to be times where he draws a line. Because right now, all I see is a fool who throws himself into danger for the sake of it.”
Wolfgirl40032 Asks: Just a simple question to Ravenpaw: How are you nowadays?
The ends of Ravenpaw’s muzzle quirk upward in a shy yet kind grin. “A-ah, uh… well, to be honest, I’m doing a lot better. I’ve felt more… whole… since I awakened Khansu, and having Firepaw, Graypaw, Longtail, and Spottedleaf in my corner really helps me keep my h-head above water. Longtail even checks up on me often!” He glanced from side to side, checking if the coast was clear, before he leaned forward and whispered, “I think the protectiveness Longtail felt over me - back when I first joined the team, and he chewed out Ruku for pushing me too much - is still kinda… there, I guess? But it’s nice. He feels like a big brother.”
Ravenpaw’s expression soured. “I won’t be fully okay until Tigerclaw is out of my life. But for r-right now? I”m as good as I can be.”
ZenfulMockingbird Asks: Congrats Spirit clan on dispelling the forest of lust and defeating that Tempest of a tom. Ravenpaw, nice save with the Ice Wall.
To Spirit Clan, not a question, but trivia (My memory bit fuzzy) regard places with Lust in there name and there owners. Or two of them.
First is the Castle of Lust, a imposing sort of stone where a leader resides in. This was owned by a shadow of two leg mentor called Kamoshida...Spottedleaf, you would hate him. The place he saw was a place teach apprentices as that castle and himself a leader. He abused his position to satisfy his own lust and his transformation reflect this. The Phantom Thieves manage(A team before) manage to stop his tyranny.
Alice was a prisoner of the Jail of Lust. A place that look like a wonderland, but trapped in her in a memory. She was a ruler that did the horrible things that was also done to her.. Spottedleaf, this my question for you. If saw you saw what happened to Alice, what would you do?
Spottedleaf’s lower lip curled with disgust. “Well, that ‘Kamoshida’ guy sounds like a scumbag, and I’m glad these ‘Phantom Thieves’ took him down. I’ve suspected that there were other groups of Persona-users out there, especially considering Ruku and Yvelle exist, and I’m happy to hear they use their powers for good. As for Alice… well, while I do feel bad for her, that doesn’t give her an excuse to inflict pain upon others. Thistleclaw likely turned out the way he did because someone pushed those values onto him, and while I didn’t exactly follow the cycle, I still reverted into a lesser cat because of what he taught me and how he acted.” Her expression softened. “I can see the same repeating for Alice and whoever stands underneath her, either as a child, a pupil, or something else. If I got a chance to meet her, I’d tell her to avoid that path. Everyone would be better off if she did.”
Faddish Asks: To Ravenpaw - What are your thoughts about the thing between Firepaw and Longtail?
A blush spread across Ravenpaw’s cheeks. “A-ah… uh… w-well, I…”
He paused, cleared his throat, and took a moment to compose himself. “I’m happy for them. I really am. I m-mean, neither of them have made a move yet, but it’s really obvious that they l-like eachother. I… wish I could b-be like them, really - to have someone else who fancies me the way Longtail and Firepaw do. I h-hope they get together soon…”
The ends of his muzzle quirked upward. “Uh, Spottedleaf hopes so, too. She keeps trying to egg me into placing bets on when they’ll confess… I have two mice on the line if they don’t by the end of the week…”
Bleeding_Heart (Void Dweller) Asks: Question for Spiritclan: how exhausting is it to put up with both Starclan battles and regular warrior/medicine duties?
All five members of Spiritclan shared a glance. “... well, I think we’re doing decently well,” Firepaw said, only to yelp when Longtail cuffed him over the head.
“Yeah, when we aren’t dead on our paws,” Longtail growled, though it lacked any malice. “But in all seriousness - we’re managing as well as we can. I can say for myself and Spottedleaf that we’re functioning fairly well. Sometimes, we get drained, but it isn’t anything we can’t deal with.”
“I c-can manage my duties well, too,” Ravenpaw said. “Though, sometimes, when the battles in Starclan get rough, I try to avoid straining myself… Shadows can p-pack a punch.”
“What about you, Ruku?” Spottedleaf asked, looking at the loner with a friendly blink. “Are you doing alright? I don’t think I ever inquired about your life when you aren’t fighting with us. Aside from your home in Toderas, that is.”
Ruku shrugged. “Well, I don’t have to do whatever the hell you clan folk get up to, so it isn’t as if I have much of an input here,” he mused. “But even then, I’m fine. I just go about my existence. Nothin’ special.”
Thank you for your questions, everyone! Now, back to the main story! This chapter will be a short one - my motivation has been in the gutter lately.
Firepaw had never realized how irritating sunlight could be.
Usually, it bathed his fur in its warm, comforting rays, chasing away the fatigue that stuck to him after initially waking up. It was like a helping paw, reaching out to assure him that today was a new day and prepping him to work toward his goal of becoming a warrior of Thunderclan, one step at a time.
But now, all it served to do was make him crankier than usual. It burned in his eyes, forcing him to blink repeatedly, and that made him teeter like a precarious tree. His eyelids felt especially heavy today, too; he figured that at some point, he’d try to blink the sunlight away, only for him to close his eyes and fall asleep on the spot.
Stars, wouldn’t that be nice - going back to sleep sounded like a dream come true. His body ached so fiercely that so much as twitching his paw made his muscles groan in protest. He could barely think about anything through the persistent fuzz in his brain. His senses were dull, too distant for him to refine, and his ability to do anything other than stare ahead like an idiot while Bluestar talked to him was even farther from his reach.
… oh. Right. Bluestar was talking to him.
He was supposed to be training.
'I should probably focus on that.’
Firepaw blinked - slowly - and tuned in to what she was telling him. When he finally found the mental strength to listen to her again, he only caught the tail-end of her sentence. “... did you hear anything that I said, Firepaw?”
It took Firepaw a moment to realize that what she said wasn’t a command or instruction, but instead, a question - one he had no idea how to answer. He knew the most logical thing to say would to ask her to repeat herself, but he couldn’t find the right words. Instead, all he could utter was a dumb “Whuh…?”
Bluestar sighed and flicked her tail, a slight frown pulling at her lips. “Well, that confirms it. I had hoped that we could work on battle training today, but I suppose it can’t be helped. You look like you’re about to fall over, Firepaw.” Then, in a softer tone, she asked, “Do you need to see Spottedleaf and Yellowfang? If you’re feeling ill, it would be best to visit the medicine den. I would join you, but I think Yellowfang would claw my eyes out if I went near it.”
Firepaw didn’t need to ask why that was the case. He already had a pretty good idea, if Yellowfang fretting over him after his last visit was any indication. “I’m alright, Bluestar,” he replied. “Just… could use some more sleep.”
“Right.” Bluestar hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh her next words before speaking again. Her stony expression softened and her eyes grew warm as she took a step closer. “Do you… want to talk about what ails you, Firepaw?”
Firepaw blinked again, trying to fight the urge to close his eyes and fall asleep then and there. He briefly wondered whether he should open up to Bluestar at all - not because he didn’t trust her, but because she’d probably think he was insane if he recounted what had happened in his ‘dream’. He didn’t want to outright say it was a nightmare, either, because that would make him look and feel weak. He’d already gotten his fill of that feeling when he’d needed his Personas’ reassurance to function. “... I just didn’t sleep well, I guess. I’m fine otherwise.”
Bluestar gave him a look that screamed ‘I don’t believe you’, but she ultimately didn’t press it. “Alright,” she said, “but at least visit the medicine den when you have the time. Let’s get back to camp.”
Bluestar turned toward the exit of the training hollow and gestured for Firepaw to go ahead. Distantly, he wondered why she wasn’t leading the way like she normally would; his question was soon answered when, upon passing her, she matched him step for step and rest her tail on his back - almost as if she were guiding him or reminding him of her presence.
Even if he was tired, Firepaw spared just enough energy to mutter a slurred, “Thanks…”
Bluestar hummed in reply but said nothing more, allowing silence to envelop them as they began their trek back to Thunderclan’s enclosure.
Splat
Firepaw yanked his head back with a start and stared down at the piece of prey between his paws like it personally offended him. In a way, it had; it had gotten the last laugh by smearing its guts all over Firepaw’s face, even if that had been Firepaw’s fault entirely.
“Well, that took about three head-bobs. I guess I owe you a sparrow, Ravenpaw,” Graypaw said jokingly from his position across from Firepaw. He pawed at the robin in front of him, mirth dancing in his eyes.
Beside him, Ravenpaw let out a startled yelp and narrowed his eyes. “I d-didn’t bet on anything!” He meowed. “Don’t make it look like I was!”
“Betting on what?” Firepaw said, his words slightly slurring together. He shook his head sharply, trying to physically shake off the exhaustion that clung to him like a stubborn burr, but it failed to do much.
“Well, you both looked like you’ve fought twenty adders respectively, but you,” he jabbed his paw toward Firepaw, “looked worse. I figured you’d fade in and out three times before you fell face-first onto your mouse, and I was right!” He snorted and flicked his ears. “Don’t worry, Ravenpaw didn’t actually bet on anything.”
Firepaw turned and looked at Ravenpaw, frowning. True to Graypaw’s words, Ravenpaw did look exhausted, but he was remarkably more composed and awake than Firepaw. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved that Ravenpaw was okay or upset that Ravenpaw was able to power through it while Firepaw wasn’t. “Myeh…?”
Ravenpaw pawed at Firepaw's face, brushing away the crumbs and bits of mouse that stuck to his muzzle. Then, he shifted back and smiled apologetically. “I’m used to long, sleepless nights after rough physical a-activity,” he said, seemingly understanding what Firepaw was trying to ask. “M-maybe… you should go back to sleep? That might be good for you.”
“I will. After I, uh, fuckin’... eat,” Firepaw replied.
“You should listen to the apprentice, kit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more dead on your paws than you do now, and you’re lying down.”
Graypaw and Ravenpaw whipped around just as Yellowfang slid into Firepaw’s view, staring down at him with a look of disapproval. “What - when did you get here!?” Graypaw yelped.
“I didn’t even hear you coming,” Ravenpaw murmured, his pupils wide.
“Well, maybe you should use your eyes, skinny,” Yellowfang grumbled. Behind her, Graypaw let out a noise that sounded torn between amusement and shock, though he instantly shut up when Yellowfang zeroed in on him. “Ain’t like you’re any better. You have the awareness of a blind and deaf elder on catnip, fat boy. Do you know how many times I’ve passed you in camp, only for you to ignore me because you’re face-deep in a piece of prey?”
“H-hey!” Graypaw sputtered, scandalized. “I can be perfectly aware when I need to! And I’m not fat, I’m fluffy!”
“Curb your eating habits, then we’ll talk,” Yellowfang replied dryly. Then, her gaze returned to Firepaw, and she gave him a halfhearted swat over the head. “Back to the original point - why are you even awake? Go to your nest and sleep. Unless you need me to shove some poppy seeds down your throat.”
“How did you even know to check on me?” Firepaw murmured, fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. “I didn’t…”
“Tell me? Nope. But Spottedleaf did. Said to watch out in case you were wanderin’ around like a fool. Said you, her, Longtail, and Ravenpaw were training late last night and didn’t sleep until later.”
It took Firepaw’s lagging brain a moment to process what Yellowfang said, and he inwardly breathed a sigh of frustration. While he appreciated Spottedleaf coering for him (and Ravenpaw and Longtail by extension), he didn’t appreciate being told that she’d sicced Yellowfang on him. He didn’t need her to worry about him. She had better things to fret about than whether he’d slept or not. Plus, he was supposed to be the one checking on her, not the other way around; he was the group’s leader and had to act like it. He’d get it if he were grievously injured, but he came out of the fight relatively fine. There was nothing for her - or Yellowfang - to waste her time over.
However, despite all of that… he at least liked how Yellowfang mothered him. It made him feel warm and fuzzy. “Fine, fine,” he said, grudgingly pushing himself to his paws. He staggered, his world momentarily swaying, but Yellowfang moved to his side and balanced him before he could topple. “Easy,” she said, her harsh voice softening immensely. “C’mon. Let’s get ya to your nest.”
Before Firepaw knew it, he was all but corralled into the apprentice’s den and shoved into his bed by Yellowfang. He clung onto consciousness for just long enough to hear her say ‘rest well’ before his exhaustion finally won out.
He was out cold before his head could hit the moss.
Firepaw slept through the entire day.
It took him a while to realize that, indeed, he had somehow wasted an entire day in bed. He’d also slept through his usual Starclan visit, though it wasn’t that big of a deal considering there wasn’t a Dark Forest to plow through. He knew he’d needed the rest; he’d barely functioned yesterday, if what little he remembered said anything, and he felt so much better now that he’d gotten a good night’s sleep.
His relief didn’t last for long, though. Since he’d missed his training with Bluestar and barely did anything of note for the rest of the day, he felt increasingly jittery - more so than usual. He was so used to doing things (save for the times he was injured) that he had the urge to put himself to work the moment he slipped out of the apprentice’s den.
While he waited for Bluestar to take him out for training, Firepaw made it his duty to busy himself around the camp. He patched up the bramble walls around each den, sorted through the prey pile for spoiled rations, and helped Spottedleaf and Yellowfang sort herbs (while barely keeping himself from telling her to keep her concern to herself, because he knew that would be rude and he didn’t want to open that can of worms in front of Yellowfang). It felt good to be useful - very good - and he felt better about himself the more he accomplished.
However, menial apprentice tasks weren’t all he’d planned to busy himself with. While it wasn’t as fulfilling, there was one last task he’d talked himself into doing, and he knew he couldn’t delay it any longer.
Firepaw wanted to visit the elders.
Of all the cats Firepaw had interacted with, the elders were the group he’d spend the least time around - and that was for two particular reasons. The first was that he’d never delivered prey to them or cleaned their ticks, which severely limited his chance to talk to them amicably. He knew both tasks were tailor-made for apprentices, but most of those duties were taken up by the other apprentices before he had the chance to do it himself. The second was that he had no good reason to talk to them outside of busywork; he doubted they’d wanted to be around him, anyway. It was no secret that he had tanked his fragile reputation when he'd brought Yellowfang into Thunderclan, and the elders had made their stance known with plenty of dirty looks. They’d also been some of the most vocal about their distaste for Firepaw joining Thunderclan (aside from Longtail, Sandpaw, Dustpaw, and Tigerclaw).
Back then, Firepaw’s resolve hadn’t been as strong, so he’d let their viewpoints deter him more than he’d like to admit. But now, he didn’t let it shake him nearly as much - he’d dealt with the clan’s judgment for long enough, now. He could handle some more.
He at least had to try. He’d told himself he would back in Starclan, after all.
With an emboldened sigh, Firepaw shrugged into the elder’s den, a quartet of mice dangling from his mouth by the tails. He hoped that bringing them prey would mollify them just enough to tolerate his presence, and he could use ‘I’m here to clean ticks off you’ as an excuse to stick around.
The moment he stepped inside, two pairs of eyes turned to face him - Smallear and Dappletail. Patchpelt was dozing beside her, snoring loudly, and One-Eye was staring blankly at a wall; she didn’t seem to realize that Firepaw was there at all. “Well, if it isn’t Firepaw,” Dappletail croaked, looking at him with a neutral stare. Then, she turned to Patchpelt and gave her a nudge. “Hey. He’s here.”
Patchpelt snorted and sleepily raised her head, blinking several times before she finally focused on the apprentice. She smiled warmly, her tail flicking against the ground. “Ah, hello,” she said. “I was wondering when you were going to come by. We had wanted to talk to you for a bit.”
Firepaw dropped the mice he’d been carrying and looked toward Patchpelt with surprise. “You have?” He asked.
“Of course. We actually wanted to thank you for caring for the Shadowclan elders when they sought refuge in our camp,” she replied.
Firepaw blinked owlishly. He’d been expecting a lot worse, so that was certainly a pleasant surprise.
Patchpelt lifted her head and continued, “Not a lot of cats care about us older folk like you did. From what the Shadowclan folk told us, you jumped to their defense quicker than I could say ‘mouse’ - you even stared down Tigerclaw! If that doesn’t speak volumes about your character, I don’t know what does. If you hadn’t done that, then I’m sure they’d be much worse off - and I say playing nice benefited Thunderclan plenty, too.”
“Same goes for Yellowfang,” Smallear chimed in. “We were admittedly hostile to ya about it at first, but now that she’s our medicine cat… I see the reason. Helped us figure out pretty quickly that you’re not just a soft-hearted kittypet.”
“You ain’t half bad,” One-Eye rasped, finally returning her attention to the conversation at hand. “Not half bad.”
“You’re welcome here any time. We’d love to chat your ears off. That’s what us elders do, after all,” Patchpelt chuffed. “I’m sure my friends here feel the same way.”
Dappletail made her thoughts known with a small nod. One-Eye’s gaze was inscrutable, though she didn’t seem disapproving of his presence or what Patchpelt said in her stead. The same went for Smallear, who betrayed nothing with her expression aside from indifference. It was better than outright hostility, though, so Firepaw was more than happy to take what he could get.
“Thank you,” Firepaw replied warmly. “I really appreciate it.”
With that, he passed each of them a piece of prey and hunkered down, preparing to groom them one at a time. He picked ticks off of their coats with brutal efficiency - an efficiency he only had thanks to Yellowfang’s brutal standards - and listened to them talk about their lives, their thoughts on Shadowclan, and whatever topics jumped into their minds. Firepaw listened without complaint, making vague noises to show he was listening and occasionally pushing the conversation along with a question or inquiry.
He may not have gotten a bond with them, but that didn’t matter. He never intended to form one with the elders, anyway. He was more than content with their approval and the satisfaction of knowing that he had more cats on his side.