“COME ON, YOU SLOW-POKE! BRACKENTAIL MIGHT ALREADY be asleep now!”
“No, Mousekit!” Lilykit squealed. “He said that he will tell us the story at sunhigh!”
Another moon had passed, and life flourished in the Clan. Lilykit now saw and knew every cat that lived there, and her father had given her and her brother a special tour. The day before, Brackentail promised them that they will tell the stories of the cats long ago, and now the kits are going to hear them.
“Right on time,” the elder rasped as the two littermates clambered in the den.
“See?” Lilykit gloated. “I told you he’ll be up!”
Brackentail purred. “Are you ready?”
Mousekit and Lilykit were squeaking with agreement, and Brackentail had silenced them with a flick of his tail.
“How would you like to hear the story of Mousewhisker?”
Mousekit had his ears pricked. “You mean our grandfather, Mousewhisker?”
The ginger tom nodded, his sightless eyes glowing with memory. “Okay, let’s begin. A long time ago, a little before Sweetstar was born, there was a tom named Mousewhisker. He had a blue gray pelt, and his eyes were a great green. He was the deputy of the Clan at the time, and he had many admirers.
“At this time, I was a newly made warrior when he was pronounced deputy. He and I were good friends before that, and he taught me a whole lot about fighting and battle moves.” Brackentail chuckled a little. “He was a good tom. Well, anyways, you’re waiting for the actual story to begin, don’t you?”
Both of the kits were encouraging him to continue.
Brackentail cleared his throat. “All right, about two years after he was made deputy, the WindClan leader at the time, Moorstar, called war on the other Clans. Back then, their numbers were abundant, and the Clan leader now, Ravenstar, was just a kit. Of course, supported by Otterscar, who is Otterstar now, RiverClan went into battle.
“Mousewhisker was more determined to get Lightningstar to oppose them, but the Clan leader would not, for the fear of being overthrown as leader of ThunderClan.”
“So, who was the opposing force?” Mousekit pondered.
“I’m getting there,” the elder purred. “So, Mousewhisker set up a rebellion against the reign of Moorstar. He gathered up many warriors from all Clans, including myself, and Violetjay—“
“Who’s Violetjay?”
“Well, Lilykit, Violetjay was this beautiful Siamese she-cat, like your mother, and she had the most astonishing blue eyes that anyone ever saw. Mousewhisker really liked her at the time, so he really didn’t want her to go, but the clever she-cat found out about it and joined his side.
“Of course, cats of all Clans were there—in the rebellion—to fight in this war. Did you know that there were an equal amount of cats on the Rebellion against the Clan cats?”
The kits gasped in wonder. Lilykit was amazed, too. How could any cat have such support?
“But, it was a real problem in this civil war,” he sighed. “It was a cold leaf-bare morning, and both sides went to meet in the heart of the forest territories. Mousewhisker was on the front line, and everyone else stayed in the back, as were orders. With Moorstar on one side and he on the other, they both met in a great disgust.
“‘So, this is what you’re plotting against us?’ the Moorstar yowled.
“Mousewhisker had nodded. ‘For all of the Clans deserve their freedom! They cannot be overrun by one leader. Besides,’ he then added, mischievously, ‘they’re too many cats.’
“They both then called the war. So you know, this was the worst, most horrific battle in Clan history. Kin fought kin; Clanmates fought Clanmates; mates fought each other. I once had to fight my own brother, and he nearly killed me.”
Mousekit couldn’t help but interrupt. “But who won?”
Brackentail pointed his sightless gaze to him. “Are you a WindClan cat?”
Lilykit’s brother shook his head.
“Then the Rebellions won this battle.”
“Wow,” the kits gasped in amazement.
“That’s right. Now, when Mousewhisker went to face Moorstar, he fought so vile, so viciously, that Moorstar lost two lives in that battle. So, the WindClan leader needed to recover, so he called it off.”
“Was it a really quick battle?” Lilykit asked.
The blind elder shook his head. “It was dawn when we started, and it was well past sunhigh when it ended. It was also the longest battle I had ever been in.
“What happened after that was that the Clans regained their freedom, but ThunderClan was always least-trusting towards WindClan—“
“What happened with Mousewhisker and Violetjay?” Lilykit asked.
The elder purred. “I guess you really want to get into the romantic parts.”
“I just want to know what happens after that.”
“Well,” Brackentail began, “after the Clans went home, Mousewhisker asked Violetjay to be his mate; being in the battle with her had really assured him that he would do anything for her.”
The little she-kit sighed, “How romantic.”
Mousekit scoffed, “Sissy stuff.”
“Then, several moons later, Violetjay had a litter of two kits; a daughter and a son. They were named Sweetkit and Cobaltkit.”
“Who’s Cobaltkit?” Lilykit mewed.
“He was known as Cobaltpelt, your uncle, when he was the medicine cat.”
“I remember him! Mom told me about him!” Mousekit answered.
“What happened to him?” Lilykit wondered.
Brackentail sighed. “He was mauled by a badger. He was looking for herbs and was gone for three days. Sweetstar and Nightheart went to rescue him, but it was too late to save him. Cobaltpelt’s death had scarred her and almost put her through a great depression.”
“You really can love your littermate that much?” Mousekit gasped, then looking at Lilykit.
“Losing your littermate is like losing the Clan leader,” he replied. “I knew that when I lost my own brother, I wouldn’t be able to get over it.”
Mousekit yawned. “Thanks for the story. I’m going back to the nursery.”
The little she-kit watched her brother go, her green eyes wide with thought. Would I feel the same way Sweetstar did if I lost Mousekit?
“Aren’t you going to go with him?” Brackentail interrupted her thoughts.
Lilykit shook her head. “I just have one question,” she mewed. “How did you become blind when you were able to see the battle?”
There was a deep, cracked purr rumbling in the elder’s throat. “Old age. I lost my eyesight when I was about eight, and Cobaltpelt had said that it was a natural occurrence.”
“I bet you miss being able to see.”
“I do, Lilykit,” he agreed with a sigh. “And I do miss being able to fight in battles and to be able to ignore my aching bones. But, I am old Lilykit, and unfortunately I can’t ignore that. I retired long before you were born.”
She nodded, and then realizing how tired she was, she yawned.
“You’d better go on back to your mother,” Brackentail rasped. “I’m getting rather tired, too.”
Lilykit reluctantly padded back to the nursery. She longed for another story; another moment for the shivers to be running down her spine as a storyteller paints her a mental image.
But, as she closed her eyes, she was oblivious to an adventure that will come to her dreams.
Lilykit opened her eyes again. She was in the Great Tree nursery, just like before. But, something was indeed different. When she walked outside, the canopy of the tree seemed slightly closer to the ground. This is strange. She also saw cats that she never even met before. She didn’t think they could see her.
“Hey, Mousewhisker!” some cat called. “Get your lazy rump down here!”
Lilykit gasped when she saw a muscular blue-gray tom leap down from the chambers. His shoulders rippled as he used his joints gracefully, and his green eyes shone like a strange fire.
Is that my grandfather? How can I see him like this and I’ve never met him before?
The cat who called him was a ginger tom; clearly a younger version of Brackentail.
“Aren’t you going to set up patrols any time soon?” he meowed.
Mousewhisker sighed. “I wish I didn’t have such a big job. Some days I just want to sleep.”
Brackentail laughed, “That’s sounds like the Mousewhisker I know and love like my own brother!” He cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.
A smaller gray tom leaped down from the chambers next. Brackentail sighed and went him.
“So, Graypaw,” Brackentail mewed, “are you ready for a fun-filled training session?”
The apprentice nodded.
“Good. You can start by bringing fresh-kill to Dreampaw.”
“Shouldn’t Rustyspot do that?” Graypaw sighed.
“He’s away on a patrol, and he won’t be back until late.”
Heavy paw steps came from the nursery chamber, as a pregnant she-cat cumbered into the clearing. She was rather young—just as old as Graypaw, and she looked a little like him in the color of her pelt.
“I thought Rustyspot was going to stay today,” the she-cat huffed.
Mousewhisker shook his head. “He’ll be back in a bit, Dreampaw.”
Dreampaw licked the fur on her paw and down her swollen belly. Her belly seemed to move as her kits kicked, but yet it quivered in a rippling way. Meanwhile, Lilykit was confused and scared.
Who are these cats? How come I can see them so clear and vividly when this is obviously the past?
A light tabby tom leaped down from the walkways. He was not as muscular as Mousewhisker, but his strong face made him look just as powerful.
“You have the patrols set?” he bellowed in a deep voice.
“Everything is settled for today, Lightningstar,” Mousewhisker bowed his head briefly as he spoke.
Lightningstar nodded. He then looked towards the queen. “Did you rest well?”
“Yes, Father,” Dreampaw mewed quietly. “And, Birchleaf said that the birthing won’t be for another half moon, now.”
The ancient Clan leader sighed, but then he looked curious at her. “Are you sure?”
The young queen nodded, gasping. “I thought he was, but I guess—“ Dreampaw ran back into the nursery.
“Bring Rustyspot back here, now,” Lightningstar snarled at Brackentail.
Lilykit was even more nervous. How can she recall an event that happened before she was born?
After what seemed like forever, Brackentail came back with a young tom behind him. He had a black pelt, but there was an unusual dark ginger splotch on his chest. The tom ran into the nursery, and Lilykit followed, still being inconspicuous.
She held her breath as she saw the once drowsy queen go through pain. Dreampaw’s breath was in painful gasps, and she was losing blood—a lot of blood. Clearly, it was too early for her birthing.
A brown tom next to her, looking nervous, seemed like he tried to help the best he could. As Dreampaw let out a loud wail, the cat that must’ve been Rustyspot desperately licked at her flank and face. Lilykit was really scared, but she didn’t know how to get out of this. On the other hand, she didn’t want to; she wanted to see how this strange event would end.
“Dammit,” Rustyspot spat, “Birchleaf, can’t you do anything?”
“I’ve tried,” the tom sighed. “It’s up to her to pull through.”
Dreampaw wailed again, and she looked like she was straining. Lilykit held her breath again as a dark bundle plopped to the ground. The young queen was left gasping and crying. Rustyspot licked her flank as Birchleaf nipped the kitting sac.
“It’s a tom,” the medicine cat praised.
The queen cried out again, and her belly quivered as another bundle fell out of the nest.
“Wonderful! Well done,” Birchleaf complimented. “It’s another tom, and they’re both going to be fine; they’re healthy and strong.”
Dreampaw looked very weak all of a sudden, like giving birth had drained her of her energy. Rustyspot looked nervous still, and he stayed by her side. The queen closed her eyes and sighed, but she was still breathing.
“Will she be all right?” Rustyspot panicked. “The kitting was early.”
Birchleaf nodded gravely. “She lost a lot of blood, but if I give her something to stop the bleeding and some borage, she might recover. But, Rustyspot, she’s very weak. It looks like her few moons with the kits will be her last.”
The tom bowed his head, his shoulders hunched. The choking sounds coming from deep in his throat let Lilykit know that he must’ve been crying. She was still a little young to understand what just happened, but she knew that this she-cat might die. But the question still remains; why is she seeing this, and how can she see these cats from the past so vividly?
This is one clue of her "gift" that she got from Cobaltpelt when she was rescued. But, does she really have a gift, or is this just a coincidence? The next chapter may take a bit, but it's currently being written. ...
-Ttmrktmnrfn0830
“No, Mousekit!” Lilykit squealed. “He said that he will tell us the story at sunhigh!”
Another moon had passed, and life flourished in the Clan. Lilykit now saw and knew every cat that lived there, and her father had given her and her brother a special tour. The day before, Brackentail promised them that they will tell the stories of the cats long ago, and now the kits are going to hear them.
“Right on time,” the elder rasped as the two littermates clambered in the den.
“See?” Lilykit gloated. “I told you he’ll be up!”
Brackentail purred. “Are you ready?”
Mousekit and Lilykit were squeaking with agreement, and Brackentail had silenced them with a flick of his tail.
“How would you like to hear the story of Mousewhisker?”
Mousekit had his ears pricked. “You mean our grandfather, Mousewhisker?”
The ginger tom nodded, his sightless eyes glowing with memory. “Okay, let’s begin. A long time ago, a little before Sweetstar was born, there was a tom named Mousewhisker. He had a blue gray pelt, and his eyes were a great green. He was the deputy of the Clan at the time, and he had many admirers.
“At this time, I was a newly made warrior when he was pronounced deputy. He and I were good friends before that, and he taught me a whole lot about fighting and battle moves.” Brackentail chuckled a little. “He was a good tom. Well, anyways, you’re waiting for the actual story to begin, don’t you?”
Both of the kits were encouraging him to continue.
Brackentail cleared his throat. “All right, about two years after he was made deputy, the WindClan leader at the time, Moorstar, called war on the other Clans. Back then, their numbers were abundant, and the Clan leader now, Ravenstar, was just a kit. Of course, supported by Otterscar, who is Otterstar now, RiverClan went into battle.
“Mousewhisker was more determined to get Lightningstar to oppose them, but the Clan leader would not, for the fear of being overthrown as leader of ThunderClan.”
“So, who was the opposing force?” Mousekit pondered.
“I’m getting there,” the elder purred. “So, Mousewhisker set up a rebellion against the reign of Moorstar. He gathered up many warriors from all Clans, including myself, and Violetjay—“
“Who’s Violetjay?”
“Well, Lilykit, Violetjay was this beautiful Siamese she-cat, like your mother, and she had the most astonishing blue eyes that anyone ever saw. Mousewhisker really liked her at the time, so he really didn’t want her to go, but the clever she-cat found out about it and joined his side.
“Of course, cats of all Clans were there—in the rebellion—to fight in this war. Did you know that there were an equal amount of cats on the Rebellion against the Clan cats?”
The kits gasped in wonder. Lilykit was amazed, too. How could any cat have such support?
“But, it was a real problem in this civil war,” he sighed. “It was a cold leaf-bare morning, and both sides went to meet in the heart of the forest territories. Mousewhisker was on the front line, and everyone else stayed in the back, as were orders. With Moorstar on one side and he on the other, they both met in a great disgust.
“‘So, this is what you’re plotting against us?’ the Moorstar yowled.
“Mousewhisker had nodded. ‘For all of the Clans deserve their freedom! They cannot be overrun by one leader. Besides,’ he then added, mischievously, ‘they’re too many cats.’
“They both then called the war. So you know, this was the worst, most horrific battle in Clan history. Kin fought kin; Clanmates fought Clanmates; mates fought each other. I once had to fight my own brother, and he nearly killed me.”
Mousekit couldn’t help but interrupt. “But who won?”
Brackentail pointed his sightless gaze to him. “Are you a WindClan cat?”
Lilykit’s brother shook his head.
“Then the Rebellions won this battle.”
“Wow,” the kits gasped in amazement.
“That’s right. Now, when Mousewhisker went to face Moorstar, he fought so vile, so viciously, that Moorstar lost two lives in that battle. So, the WindClan leader needed to recover, so he called it off.”
“Was it a really quick battle?” Lilykit asked.
The blind elder shook his head. “It was dawn when we started, and it was well past sunhigh when it ended. It was also the longest battle I had ever been in.
“What happened after that was that the Clans regained their freedom, but ThunderClan was always least-trusting towards WindClan—“
“What happened with Mousewhisker and Violetjay?” Lilykit asked.
The elder purred. “I guess you really want to get into the romantic parts.”
“I just want to know what happens after that.”
“Well,” Brackentail began, “after the Clans went home, Mousewhisker asked Violetjay to be his mate; being in the battle with her had really assured him that he would do anything for her.”
The little she-kit sighed, “How romantic.”
Mousekit scoffed, “Sissy stuff.”
“Then, several moons later, Violetjay had a litter of two kits; a daughter and a son. They were named Sweetkit and Cobaltkit.”
“Who’s Cobaltkit?” Lilykit mewed.
“He was known as Cobaltpelt, your uncle, when he was the medicine cat.”
“I remember him! Mom told me about him!” Mousekit answered.
“What happened to him?” Lilykit wondered.
Brackentail sighed. “He was mauled by a badger. He was looking for herbs and was gone for three days. Sweetstar and Nightheart went to rescue him, but it was too late to save him. Cobaltpelt’s death had scarred her and almost put her through a great depression.”
“You really can love your littermate that much?” Mousekit gasped, then looking at Lilykit.
“Losing your littermate is like losing the Clan leader,” he replied. “I knew that when I lost my own brother, I wouldn’t be able to get over it.”
Mousekit yawned. “Thanks for the story. I’m going back to the nursery.”
The little she-kit watched her brother go, her green eyes wide with thought. Would I feel the same way Sweetstar did if I lost Mousekit?
“Aren’t you going to go with him?” Brackentail interrupted her thoughts.
Lilykit shook her head. “I just have one question,” she mewed. “How did you become blind when you were able to see the battle?”
There was a deep, cracked purr rumbling in the elder’s throat. “Old age. I lost my eyesight when I was about eight, and Cobaltpelt had said that it was a natural occurrence.”
“I bet you miss being able to see.”
“I do, Lilykit,” he agreed with a sigh. “And I do miss being able to fight in battles and to be able to ignore my aching bones. But, I am old Lilykit, and unfortunately I can’t ignore that. I retired long before you were born.”
She nodded, and then realizing how tired she was, she yawned.
“You’d better go on back to your mother,” Brackentail rasped. “I’m getting rather tired, too.”
Lilykit reluctantly padded back to the nursery. She longed for another story; another moment for the shivers to be running down her spine as a storyteller paints her a mental image.
But, as she closed her eyes, she was oblivious to an adventure that will come to her dreams.
Lilykit opened her eyes again. She was in the Great Tree nursery, just like before. But, something was indeed different. When she walked outside, the canopy of the tree seemed slightly closer to the ground. This is strange. She also saw cats that she never even met before. She didn’t think they could see her.
“Hey, Mousewhisker!” some cat called. “Get your lazy rump down here!”
Lilykit gasped when she saw a muscular blue-gray tom leap down from the chambers. His shoulders rippled as he used his joints gracefully, and his green eyes shone like a strange fire.
Is that my grandfather? How can I see him like this and I’ve never met him before?
The cat who called him was a ginger tom; clearly a younger version of Brackentail.
“Aren’t you going to set up patrols any time soon?” he meowed.
Mousewhisker sighed. “I wish I didn’t have such a big job. Some days I just want to sleep.”
Brackentail laughed, “That’s sounds like the Mousewhisker I know and love like my own brother!” He cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.
A smaller gray tom leaped down from the chambers next. Brackentail sighed and went him.
“So, Graypaw,” Brackentail mewed, “are you ready for a fun-filled training session?”
The apprentice nodded.
“Good. You can start by bringing fresh-kill to Dreampaw.”
“Shouldn’t Rustyspot do that?” Graypaw sighed.
“He’s away on a patrol, and he won’t be back until late.”
Heavy paw steps came from the nursery chamber, as a pregnant she-cat cumbered into the clearing. She was rather young—just as old as Graypaw, and she looked a little like him in the color of her pelt.
“I thought Rustyspot was going to stay today,” the she-cat huffed.
Mousewhisker shook his head. “He’ll be back in a bit, Dreampaw.”
Dreampaw licked the fur on her paw and down her swollen belly. Her belly seemed to move as her kits kicked, but yet it quivered in a rippling way. Meanwhile, Lilykit was confused and scared.
Who are these cats? How come I can see them so clear and vividly when this is obviously the past?
A light tabby tom leaped down from the walkways. He was not as muscular as Mousewhisker, but his strong face made him look just as powerful.
“You have the patrols set?” he bellowed in a deep voice.
“Everything is settled for today, Lightningstar,” Mousewhisker bowed his head briefly as he spoke.
Lightningstar nodded. He then looked towards the queen. “Did you rest well?”
“Yes, Father,” Dreampaw mewed quietly. “And, Birchleaf said that the birthing won’t be for another half moon, now.”
The ancient Clan leader sighed, but then he looked curious at her. “Are you sure?”
The young queen nodded, gasping. “I thought he was, but I guess—“ Dreampaw ran back into the nursery.
“Bring Rustyspot back here, now,” Lightningstar snarled at Brackentail.
Lilykit was even more nervous. How can she recall an event that happened before she was born?
After what seemed like forever, Brackentail came back with a young tom behind him. He had a black pelt, but there was an unusual dark ginger splotch on his chest. The tom ran into the nursery, and Lilykit followed, still being inconspicuous.
She held her breath as she saw the once drowsy queen go through pain. Dreampaw’s breath was in painful gasps, and she was losing blood—a lot of blood. Clearly, it was too early for her birthing.
A brown tom next to her, looking nervous, seemed like he tried to help the best he could. As Dreampaw let out a loud wail, the cat that must’ve been Rustyspot desperately licked at her flank and face. Lilykit was really scared, but she didn’t know how to get out of this. On the other hand, she didn’t want to; she wanted to see how this strange event would end.
“Dammit,” Rustyspot spat, “Birchleaf, can’t you do anything?”
“I’ve tried,” the tom sighed. “It’s up to her to pull through.”
Dreampaw wailed again, and she looked like she was straining. Lilykit held her breath again as a dark bundle plopped to the ground. The young queen was left gasping and crying. Rustyspot licked her flank as Birchleaf nipped the kitting sac.
“It’s a tom,” the medicine cat praised.
The queen cried out again, and her belly quivered as another bundle fell out of the nest.
“Wonderful! Well done,” Birchleaf complimented. “It’s another tom, and they’re both going to be fine; they’re healthy and strong.”
Dreampaw looked very weak all of a sudden, like giving birth had drained her of her energy. Rustyspot looked nervous still, and he stayed by her side. The queen closed her eyes and sighed, but she was still breathing.
“Will she be all right?” Rustyspot panicked. “The kitting was early.”
Birchleaf nodded gravely. “She lost a lot of blood, but if I give her something to stop the bleeding and some borage, she might recover. But, Rustyspot, she’s very weak. It looks like her few moons with the kits will be her last.”
The tom bowed his head, his shoulders hunched. The choking sounds coming from deep in his throat let Lilykit know that he must’ve been crying. She was still a little young to understand what just happened, but she knew that this she-cat might die. But the question still remains; why is she seeing this, and how can she see these cats from the past so vividly?
This is one clue of her "gift" that she got from Cobaltpelt when she was rescued. But, does she really have a gift, or is this just a coincidence? The next chapter may take a bit, but it's currently being written. ...
-Ttmrktmnrfn0830
“COME ON, YOU SLOW-POKE! BRACKENTAIL MIGHT ALREADY be asleep now!”
“No, Mousekit!” Lilykit squealed. “He said that he will tell us the story at sunhigh!”
Another moon had passed, and life flourished in the Clan. Lilykit now saw and knew every cat that lived there, and her father had given her and her brother a special tour. The day before, Brackentail promised them that they will tell the stories of the cats long ago, and now the kits are going to hear them.
“Right on time,” the elder rasped as the two littermates clambered in the den.
“See?” Lilykit gloated. “I told you he’ll be up!”
Brackentail purred. “Are you ready?”
Mousekit and Lilykit were squeaking with agreement, and Brackentail had silenced them with a flick of his tail.
“How would you like to hear the story of Mousewhisker?”
Mousekit had his ears pricked. “You mean our grandfather, Mousewhisker?”
The ginger tom nodded, his sightless eyes glowing with memory. “Okay, let’s begin. A long time ago, a little before Sweetstar was born, there was a tom named Mousewhisker. He had a blue gray pelt, and his eyes were a great green. He was the deputy of the Clan at the time, and he had many admirers.
“At this time, I was a newly made warrior when he was pronounced deputy. He and I were good friends before that, and he taught me a whole lot about fighting and battle moves.” Brackentail chuckled a little. “He was a good tom. Well, anyways, you’re waiting for the actual story to begin, don’t you?”
Both of the kits were encouraging him to continue.
Brackentail cleared his throat. “All right, about two years after he was made deputy, the WindClan leader at the time, Moorstar, called war on the other Clans. Back then, their numbers were abundant, and the Clan leader now, Ravenstar, was just a kit. Of course, supported by Otterscar, who is Otterstar now, RiverClan went into battle.
“Mousewhisker was more determined to get Lightningstar to oppose them, but the Clan leader would not, for the fear of being overthrown as leader of ThunderClan.”
“So, who was the opposing force?” Mousekit pondered.
“I’m getting there,” the elder purred. “So, Mousewhisker set up a rebellion against the reign of Moorstar. He gathered up many warriors from all Clans, including myself, and Violetjay—“
“Who’s Violetjay?”
“Well, Lilykit, Violetjay was this beautiful Siamese she-cat, like your mother, and she had the most astonishing blue eyes that anyone ever saw. Mousewhisker really liked her at the time, so he really didn’t want her to go, but the clever she-cat found out about it and joined his side.
“Of course, cats of all Clans were there—in the rebellion—to fight in this war. Did you know that there were an equal amount of cats on the Rebellion against the Clan cats?”
The kits gasped in wonder. Lilykit was amazed, too. How could any cat have such support?
“But, it was a real problem in this civil war,” he sighed. “It was a cold leaf-bare morning, and both sides went to meet in the heart of the forest territories. Mousewhisker was on the front line, and everyone else stayed in the back, as were orders. With Moorstar on one side and he on the other, they both met in a great disgust.
“‘So, this is what you’re plotting against us?’ the Moorstar yowled.
“Mousewhisker had nodded. ‘For all of the Clans deserve their freedom! They cannot be overrun by one leader. Besides,’ he then added, mischievously, ‘they’re too many cats.’
“They both then called the war. So you know, this was the worst, most horrific battle in Clan history. Kin fought kin; Clanmates fought Clanmates; mates fought each other. I once had to fight my own brother, and he nearly killed me.”
Mousekit couldn’t help but interrupt. “But who won?”
Brackentail pointed his sightless gaze to him. “Are you a WindClan cat?”
Lilykit’s brother shook his head.
“Then the Rebellions won this battle.”
“Wow,” the kits gasped in amazement.
“That’s right. Now, when Mousewhisker went to face Moorstar, he fought so vile, so viciously, that Moorstar lost two lives in that battle. So, the WindClan leader needed to recover, so he called it off.”
“Was it a really quick battle?” Lilykit asked.
The blind elder shook his head. “It was dawn when we started, and it was well past sunhigh when it ended. It was also the longest battle I had ever been in.
“What happened after that was that the Clans regained their freedom, but ThunderClan was always least-trusting towards WindClan—“
“What happened with Mousewhisker and Violetjay?” Lilykit asked.
The elder purred. “I guess you really want to get into the romantic parts.”
“I just want to know what happens after that.”
“Well,” Brackentail began, “after the Clans went home, Mousewhisker asked Violetjay to be his mate; being in the battle with her had really assured him that he would do anything for her.”
The little she-kit sighed, “How romantic.”
Mousekit scoffed, “Sissy stuff.”
“Then, several moons later, Violetjay had a litter of two kits; a daughter and a son. They were named Sweetkit and Cobaltkit.”
“Who’s Cobaltkit?” Lilykit mewed.
“He was known as Cobaltpelt, your uncle, when he was the medicine cat.”
“I remember him! Mom told me about him!” Mousekit answered.
“What happened to him?” Lilykit wondered.
Brackentail sighed. “He was mauled by a badger. He was looking for herbs and was gone for three days. Sweetstar and Nightheart went to rescue him, but it was too late to save him. Cobaltpelt’s death had scarred her and almost put her through a great depression.”
“You really can love your littermate that much?” Mousekit gasped, then looking at Lilykit.
“Losing your littermate is like losing the Clan leader,” he replied. “I knew that when I lost my own brother, I wouldn’t be able to get over it.”
Mousekit yawned. “Thanks for the story. I’m going back to the nursery.”
The little she-kit watched her brother go, her green eyes wide with thought. Would I feel the same way Sweetstar did if I lost Mousekit?
“Aren’t you going to go with him?” Brackentail interrupted her thoughts.
Lilykit shook her head. “I just have one question,” she mewed. “How did you become blind when you were able to see the battle?”
There was a deep, cracked purr rumbling in the elder’s throat. “Old age. I lost my eyesight when I was about eight, and Cobaltpelt had said that it was a natural occurrence.”
“I bet you miss being able to see.”
“I do, Lilykit,” he agreed with a sigh. “And I do miss being able to fight in battles and to be able to ignore my aching bones. But, I am old Lilykit, and unfortunately I can’t ignore that. I retired long before you were born.”
She nodded, and then realizing how tired she was, she yawned.
“You’d better go on back to your mother,” Brackentail rasped. “I’m getting rather tired, too.”
Lilykit reluctantly padded back to the nursery. She longed for another story; another moment for the shivers to be running down her spine as a storyteller paints her a mental image.
But, as she closed her eyes, she was oblivious to an adventure that will come to her dreams.
Lilykit opened her eyes again. She was in the Great Tree nursery, just like before. But, something was indeed different. When she walked outside, the canopy of the tree seemed slightly closer to the ground. This is strange. She also saw cats that she never even met before. She didn’t think they could see her.
“Hey, Mousewhisker!” some cat called. “Get your lazy rump down here!”
Lilykit gasped when she saw a muscular blue-gray tom leap down from the chambers. His shoulders rippled as he used his joints gracefully, and his green eyes shone like a strange fire.
Is that my grandfather? How can I see him like this and I’ve never met him before?
The cat who called him was a ginger tom; clearly a younger version of Brackentail.
“Aren’t you going to set up patrols any time soon?” he meowed.
Mousewhisker sighed. “I wish I didn’t have such a big job. Some days I just want to sleep.”
Brackentail laughed, “That’s sounds like the Mousewhisker I know and love like my own brother!” He cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.
A smaller gray tom leaped down from the chambers next. Brackentail sighed and went him.
“So, Graypaw,” Brackentail mewed, “are you ready for a fun-filled training session?”
The apprentice nodded.
“Good. You can start by bringing fresh-kill to Dreampaw.”
“Shouldn’t Rustyspot do that?” Graypaw sighed.
“He’s away on a patrol, and he won’t be back until late.”
Heavy paw steps came from the nursery chamber, as a pregnant she-cat cumbered into the clearing. She was rather young—just as old as Graypaw, and she looked a little like him in the color of her pelt.
“I thought Rustyspot was going to stay today,” the she-cat huffed.
Mousewhisker shook his head. “He’ll be back in a bit, Dreampaw.”
Dreampaw licked the fur on her paw and down her swollen belly. Her belly seemed to move as her kits kicked, but yet it quivered in a rippling way. Meanwhile, Lilykit was confused and scared.
Who are these cats? How come I can see them so clear and vividly when this is obviously the past?
A light tabby tom leaped down from the walkways. He was not as muscular as Mousewhisker, but his strong face made him look just as powerful.
“You have the patrols set?” he bellowed in a deep voice.
“Everything is settled for today, Lightningstar,” Mousewhisker bowed his head briefly as he spoke.
Lightningstar nodded. He then looked towards the queen. “Did you rest well?”
“Yes, Father,” Dreampaw mewed quietly. “And, Birchleaf said that the birthing won’t be for another half moon, now.”
The ancient Clan leader sighed, but then he looked curious at her. “Are you sure?”
The young queen nodded, gasping. “I thought he was, but I guess—“ Dreampaw ran back into the nursery.
“Bring Rustyspot back here, now,” Lightningstar snarled at Brackentail.
Lilykit was even more nervous. How can she recall an event that happened before she was born?
After what seemed like forever, Brackentail came back with a young tom behind him. He had a black pelt, but there was an unusual dark ginger splotch on his chest. The tom ran into the nursery, and Lilykit followed, still being inconspicuous.
She held her breath as she saw the once drowsy queen go through pain. Dreampaw’s breath was in painful gasps, and she was losing blood—a lot of blood. Clearly, it was too early for her birthing.
A brown tom next to her, looking nervous, seemed like he tried to help the best he could. As Dreampaw let out a loud wail, the cat that must’ve been Rustyspot desperately licked at her flank and face. Lilykit was really scared, but she didn’t know how to get out of this. On the other hand, she didn’t want to; she wanted to see how this strange event would end.
“Dammit,” Rustyspot spat, “Birchleaf, can’t you do anything?”
“I’ve tried,” the tom sighed. “It’s up to her to pull through.”
Dreampaw wailed again, and she looked like she was straining. Lilykit held her breath again as a dark bundle plopped to the ground. The young queen was left gasping and crying. Rustyspot licked her flank as Birchleaf nipped the kitting sac.
“It’s a tom,” the medicine cat praised.
The queen cried out again, and her belly quivered as another bundle fell out of the nest.
“Wonderful! Well done,” Birchleaf complimented. “It’s another tom, and they’re both going to be fine; they’re healthy and strong.”
Dreampaw looked very weak all of a sudden, like giving birth had drained her of her energy. Rustyspot looked nervous still, and he stayed by her side. The queen closed her eyes and sighed, but she was still breathing.
“Will she be all right?” Rustyspot panicked. “The kitting was early.”
Birchleaf nodded gravely. “She lost a lot of blood, but if I give her something to stop the bleeding and some borage, she might recover. But, Rustyspot, she’s very weak. It looks like her few moons with the kits will be her last.”
The tom bowed his head, his shoulders hunched. The choking sounds coming from deep in his throat let Lilykit know that he must’ve been crying. She was still a little young to understand what just happened, but she knew that this she-cat might die. But the question still remains; why is she seeing this, and how can she see these cats from the past so vividly?
This is one clue of her "gift" that she got from Cobaltpelt when she was rescued. But, does she really have a gift, or is this just a coincidence? The next chapter may take a bit, but it's currently being written. ...
-Ttmrktmnrfn0830
“No, Mousekit!” Lilykit squealed. “He said that he will tell us the story at sunhigh!”
Another moon had passed, and life flourished in the Clan. Lilykit now saw and knew every cat that lived there, and her father had given her and her brother a special tour. The day before, Brackentail promised them that they will tell the stories of the cats long ago, and now the kits are going to hear them.
“Right on time,” the elder rasped as the two littermates clambered in the den.
“See?” Lilykit gloated. “I told you he’ll be up!”
Brackentail purred. “Are you ready?”
Mousekit and Lilykit were squeaking with agreement, and Brackentail had silenced them with a flick of his tail.
“How would you like to hear the story of Mousewhisker?”
Mousekit had his ears pricked. “You mean our grandfather, Mousewhisker?”
The ginger tom nodded, his sightless eyes glowing with memory. “Okay, let’s begin. A long time ago, a little before Sweetstar was born, there was a tom named Mousewhisker. He had a blue gray pelt, and his eyes were a great green. He was the deputy of the Clan at the time, and he had many admirers.
“At this time, I was a newly made warrior when he was pronounced deputy. He and I were good friends before that, and he taught me a whole lot about fighting and battle moves.” Brackentail chuckled a little. “He was a good tom. Well, anyways, you’re waiting for the actual story to begin, don’t you?”
Both of the kits were encouraging him to continue.
Brackentail cleared his throat. “All right, about two years after he was made deputy, the WindClan leader at the time, Moorstar, called war on the other Clans. Back then, their numbers were abundant, and the Clan leader now, Ravenstar, was just a kit. Of course, supported by Otterscar, who is Otterstar now, RiverClan went into battle.
“Mousewhisker was more determined to get Lightningstar to oppose them, but the Clan leader would not, for the fear of being overthrown as leader of ThunderClan.”
“So, who was the opposing force?” Mousekit pondered.
“I’m getting there,” the elder purred. “So, Mousewhisker set up a rebellion against the reign of Moorstar. He gathered up many warriors from all Clans, including myself, and Violetjay—“
“Who’s Violetjay?”
“Well, Lilykit, Violetjay was this beautiful Siamese she-cat, like your mother, and she had the most astonishing blue eyes that anyone ever saw. Mousewhisker really liked her at the time, so he really didn’t want her to go, but the clever she-cat found out about it and joined his side.
“Of course, cats of all Clans were there—in the rebellion—to fight in this war. Did you know that there were an equal amount of cats on the Rebellion against the Clan cats?”
The kits gasped in wonder. Lilykit was amazed, too. How could any cat have such support?
“But, it was a real problem in this civil war,” he sighed. “It was a cold leaf-bare morning, and both sides went to meet in the heart of the forest territories. Mousewhisker was on the front line, and everyone else stayed in the back, as were orders. With Moorstar on one side and he on the other, they both met in a great disgust.
“‘So, this is what you’re plotting against us?’ the Moorstar yowled.
“Mousewhisker had nodded. ‘For all of the Clans deserve their freedom! They cannot be overrun by one leader. Besides,’ he then added, mischievously, ‘they’re too many cats.’
“They both then called the war. So you know, this was the worst, most horrific battle in Clan history. Kin fought kin; Clanmates fought Clanmates; mates fought each other. I once had to fight my own brother, and he nearly killed me.”
Mousekit couldn’t help but interrupt. “But who won?”
Brackentail pointed his sightless gaze to him. “Are you a WindClan cat?”
Lilykit’s brother shook his head.
“Then the Rebellions won this battle.”
“Wow,” the kits gasped in amazement.
“That’s right. Now, when Mousewhisker went to face Moorstar, he fought so vile, so viciously, that Moorstar lost two lives in that battle. So, the WindClan leader needed to recover, so he called it off.”
“Was it a really quick battle?” Lilykit asked.
The blind elder shook his head. “It was dawn when we started, and it was well past sunhigh when it ended. It was also the longest battle I had ever been in.
“What happened after that was that the Clans regained their freedom, but ThunderClan was always least-trusting towards WindClan—“
“What happened with Mousewhisker and Violetjay?” Lilykit asked.
The elder purred. “I guess you really want to get into the romantic parts.”
“I just want to know what happens after that.”
“Well,” Brackentail began, “after the Clans went home, Mousewhisker asked Violetjay to be his mate; being in the battle with her had really assured him that he would do anything for her.”
The little she-kit sighed, “How romantic.”
Mousekit scoffed, “Sissy stuff.”
“Then, several moons later, Violetjay had a litter of two kits; a daughter and a son. They were named Sweetkit and Cobaltkit.”
“Who’s Cobaltkit?” Lilykit mewed.
“He was known as Cobaltpelt, your uncle, when he was the medicine cat.”
“I remember him! Mom told me about him!” Mousekit answered.
“What happened to him?” Lilykit wondered.
Brackentail sighed. “He was mauled by a badger. He was looking for herbs and was gone for three days. Sweetstar and Nightheart went to rescue him, but it was too late to save him. Cobaltpelt’s death had scarred her and almost put her through a great depression.”
“You really can love your littermate that much?” Mousekit gasped, then looking at Lilykit.
“Losing your littermate is like losing the Clan leader,” he replied. “I knew that when I lost my own brother, I wouldn’t be able to get over it.”
Mousekit yawned. “Thanks for the story. I’m going back to the nursery.”
The little she-kit watched her brother go, her green eyes wide with thought. Would I feel the same way Sweetstar did if I lost Mousekit?
“Aren’t you going to go with him?” Brackentail interrupted her thoughts.
Lilykit shook her head. “I just have one question,” she mewed. “How did you become blind when you were able to see the battle?”
There was a deep, cracked purr rumbling in the elder’s throat. “Old age. I lost my eyesight when I was about eight, and Cobaltpelt had said that it was a natural occurrence.”
“I bet you miss being able to see.”
“I do, Lilykit,” he agreed with a sigh. “And I do miss being able to fight in battles and to be able to ignore my aching bones. But, I am old Lilykit, and unfortunately I can’t ignore that. I retired long before you were born.”
She nodded, and then realizing how tired she was, she yawned.
“You’d better go on back to your mother,” Brackentail rasped. “I’m getting rather tired, too.”
Lilykit reluctantly padded back to the nursery. She longed for another story; another moment for the shivers to be running down her spine as a storyteller paints her a mental image.
But, as she closed her eyes, she was oblivious to an adventure that will come to her dreams.
Lilykit opened her eyes again. She was in the Great Tree nursery, just like before. But, something was indeed different. When she walked outside, the canopy of the tree seemed slightly closer to the ground. This is strange. She also saw cats that she never even met before. She didn’t think they could see her.
“Hey, Mousewhisker!” some cat called. “Get your lazy rump down here!”
Lilykit gasped when she saw a muscular blue-gray tom leap down from the chambers. His shoulders rippled as he used his joints gracefully, and his green eyes shone like a strange fire.
Is that my grandfather? How can I see him like this and I’ve never met him before?
The cat who called him was a ginger tom; clearly a younger version of Brackentail.
“Aren’t you going to set up patrols any time soon?” he meowed.
Mousewhisker sighed. “I wish I didn’t have such a big job. Some days I just want to sleep.”
Brackentail laughed, “That’s sounds like the Mousewhisker I know and love like my own brother!” He cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.
A smaller gray tom leaped down from the chambers next. Brackentail sighed and went him.
“So, Graypaw,” Brackentail mewed, “are you ready for a fun-filled training session?”
The apprentice nodded.
“Good. You can start by bringing fresh-kill to Dreampaw.”
“Shouldn’t Rustyspot do that?” Graypaw sighed.
“He’s away on a patrol, and he won’t be back until late.”
Heavy paw steps came from the nursery chamber, as a pregnant she-cat cumbered into the clearing. She was rather young—just as old as Graypaw, and she looked a little like him in the color of her pelt.
“I thought Rustyspot was going to stay today,” the she-cat huffed.
Mousewhisker shook his head. “He’ll be back in a bit, Dreampaw.”
Dreampaw licked the fur on her paw and down her swollen belly. Her belly seemed to move as her kits kicked, but yet it quivered in a rippling way. Meanwhile, Lilykit was confused and scared.
Who are these cats? How come I can see them so clear and vividly when this is obviously the past?
A light tabby tom leaped down from the walkways. He was not as muscular as Mousewhisker, but his strong face made him look just as powerful.
“You have the patrols set?” he bellowed in a deep voice.
“Everything is settled for today, Lightningstar,” Mousewhisker bowed his head briefly as he spoke.
Lightningstar nodded. He then looked towards the queen. “Did you rest well?”
“Yes, Father,” Dreampaw mewed quietly. “And, Birchleaf said that the birthing won’t be for another half moon, now.”
The ancient Clan leader sighed, but then he looked curious at her. “Are you sure?”
The young queen nodded, gasping. “I thought he was, but I guess—“ Dreampaw ran back into the nursery.
“Bring Rustyspot back here, now,” Lightningstar snarled at Brackentail.
Lilykit was even more nervous. How can she recall an event that happened before she was born?
After what seemed like forever, Brackentail came back with a young tom behind him. He had a black pelt, but there was an unusual dark ginger splotch on his chest. The tom ran into the nursery, and Lilykit followed, still being inconspicuous.
She held her breath as she saw the once drowsy queen go through pain. Dreampaw’s breath was in painful gasps, and she was losing blood—a lot of blood. Clearly, it was too early for her birthing.
A brown tom next to her, looking nervous, seemed like he tried to help the best he could. As Dreampaw let out a loud wail, the cat that must’ve been Rustyspot desperately licked at her flank and face. Lilykit was really scared, but she didn’t know how to get out of this. On the other hand, she didn’t want to; she wanted to see how this strange event would end.
“Dammit,” Rustyspot spat, “Birchleaf, can’t you do anything?”
“I’ve tried,” the tom sighed. “It’s up to her to pull through.”
Dreampaw wailed again, and she looked like she was straining. Lilykit held her breath again as a dark bundle plopped to the ground. The young queen was left gasping and crying. Rustyspot licked her flank as Birchleaf nipped the kitting sac.
“It’s a tom,” the medicine cat praised.
The queen cried out again, and her belly quivered as another bundle fell out of the nest.
“Wonderful! Well done,” Birchleaf complimented. “It’s another tom, and they’re both going to be fine; they’re healthy and strong.”
Dreampaw looked very weak all of a sudden, like giving birth had drained her of her energy. Rustyspot looked nervous still, and he stayed by her side. The queen closed her eyes and sighed, but she was still breathing.
“Will she be all right?” Rustyspot panicked. “The kitting was early.”
Birchleaf nodded gravely. “She lost a lot of blood, but if I give her something to stop the bleeding and some borage, she might recover. But, Rustyspot, she’s very weak. It looks like her few moons with the kits will be her last.”
The tom bowed his head, his shoulders hunched. The choking sounds coming from deep in his throat let Lilykit know that he must’ve been crying. She was still a little young to understand what just happened, but she knew that this she-cat might die. But the question still remains; why is she seeing this, and how can she see these cats from the past so vividly?
This is one clue of her "gift" that she got from Cobaltpelt when she was rescued. But, does she really have a gift, or is this just a coincidence? The next chapter may take a bit, but it's currently being written. ...
-Ttmrktmnrfn0830