Ok, so the first two bits of my version of Into the Wild are done, and here's Chapter Two, though its not as long as the others.
“Wait!” Rusty gasped.
Bluestar looked at him.
“What if I… considered it? What would happen?” Rusty couldn’t help asking.
“We would meet you here at sunhigh tomorrow. We would take you back to our camp and if you still wish, you will get your apprentice name and stay in the apprentice den, along with Graypaw.”
Upon this, Graypaw perked up. “No! No, no, no! Kittypets can’t be warriors; they don’t have it in their blood, in their soul…”
Bluestar intervened. “Graypaw, your grandfather would have thought the same. You’re like him, you know, in many ways. But sometimes, there’s a special cat that goes against what cats like you think.”
Graypaw sat, clearly irritated. “My mother taught me to never trust a kittypet.”
“Your mother… She surely taught her other son too. Darkstripe clearly believes that.”
Graypaw didn’t reply. Darkstripe, he’d rather forget about. He didn’t give up his argument, though, and Bluestar knew he wouldn’t.
“What’s his name going to be, anyway? And why are you just offering a position to a kittypet? He’ll never make it!” Graypaw hissed, casting a sideway glance at Rusty to show him how much he disapproved of him.
Rusty wasn’t so eager anymore. If all the Clan was like Graypaw, would there really be anything there for him? Four den mates bagging on his roots? And what about the mentor he was assigned? Would they refuse to train him? If he did say yes, would he even survive? The thought that this was a trap dawned on him, but he pushed it away. Bluestar had seemed alright so far.
Rusty also noticed that Lionheart had said nothing to correct Graypaw. Did he agree, then?
“Graypaw,” Lionheart began; his voice rough and his eyes looking proudly at his apprentice. “You speak freely of your beliefs. Yet, sometimes, there’s a time to keep your mouth shut.” He still looked proud and not commanding at all.
Graypaw sensed, just like Rusty, that Lionheart was only scolding him because of Bluestar’s presence and they would probably share their thoughts, agreeing on every word, once she left.
So Graypaw didn’t stop. “Look at his puny size. He’ll never keep up on a patrol. I saw him miss that mouse, even though one of Frostfur’s kits could have caught it. And do you expect him to fight? When I attacked him, he tried to run at every opportunity, and order the other. He can’t be a warrior!”
Lionheart nodded then turned to Bluestar. “You cannot blame him for voicing his thoughts, Bluestar. You chose him, yourself.”
Graypaw perked up. “Chose me?”
Lionheart dismissed his query with a flick of his tail but he had a look in his eyes that said “I’ll tell you later.” Rusty didn’t miss the extra part, saying, “When kitty’s not here.” He was hurt.
“Can I think?” Rusty asked.
Bluestar nodded. “We must go. Please, Rusty, consider it. Your destiny and your fate are on the line here. Think about it. You may even come to... adapt. Meet Lionheart if it is a yes, here tomorrow, same time; if you don’t show, we will accept your no.”
She turned and stalked off. Lionheart sat and nodded at Graypaw.
Graypaw jumped to his feet and turned on Rusty. “Listen, kitty. Our Clan is just fine the way we are—we don’t need a soft-pawed kit in the apprentice den, clogging up space and our warriors’ time and stuffing his face. Take my advice and don’t show your face here again!” he hissed menacingly.
Rusty could smell his own fear scent, now even stronger than Smudge’s.
Lionheart stood and Graypaw went over to him. Lionheart murmured something in Graypaw’s ear, Graypaw’s whiskers quivered in amusement, and on some sort of silent signal, they jumped into the undergrowth in such perfect unison that Rusty did not believe it possible. But it was. As was Smudge’s stories.
Rusty turned to Smudge, alarm in his eyes. “Quick, before someone else finds us!” he panicked.
They ran home.
“Wait!” Rusty gasped.
Bluestar looked at him.
“What if I… considered it? What would happen?” Rusty couldn’t help asking.
“We would meet you here at sunhigh tomorrow. We would take you back to our camp and if you still wish, you will get your apprentice name and stay in the apprentice den, along with Graypaw.”
Upon this, Graypaw perked up. “No! No, no, no! Kittypets can’t be warriors; they don’t have it in their blood, in their soul…”
Bluestar intervened. “Graypaw, your grandfather would have thought the same. You’re like him, you know, in many ways. But sometimes, there’s a special cat that goes against what cats like you think.”
Graypaw sat, clearly irritated. “My mother taught me to never trust a kittypet.”
“Your mother… She surely taught her other son too. Darkstripe clearly believes that.”
Graypaw didn’t reply. Darkstripe, he’d rather forget about. He didn’t give up his argument, though, and Bluestar knew he wouldn’t.
“What’s his name going to be, anyway? And why are you just offering a position to a kittypet? He’ll never make it!” Graypaw hissed, casting a sideway glance at Rusty to show him how much he disapproved of him.
Rusty wasn’t so eager anymore. If all the Clan was like Graypaw, would there really be anything there for him? Four den mates bagging on his roots? And what about the mentor he was assigned? Would they refuse to train him? If he did say yes, would he even survive? The thought that this was a trap dawned on him, but he pushed it away. Bluestar had seemed alright so far.
Rusty also noticed that Lionheart had said nothing to correct Graypaw. Did he agree, then?
“Graypaw,” Lionheart began; his voice rough and his eyes looking proudly at his apprentice. “You speak freely of your beliefs. Yet, sometimes, there’s a time to keep your mouth shut.” He still looked proud and not commanding at all.
Graypaw sensed, just like Rusty, that Lionheart was only scolding him because of Bluestar’s presence and they would probably share their thoughts, agreeing on every word, once she left.
So Graypaw didn’t stop. “Look at his puny size. He’ll never keep up on a patrol. I saw him miss that mouse, even though one of Frostfur’s kits could have caught it. And do you expect him to fight? When I attacked him, he tried to run at every opportunity, and order the other. He can’t be a warrior!”
Lionheart nodded then turned to Bluestar. “You cannot blame him for voicing his thoughts, Bluestar. You chose him, yourself.”
Graypaw perked up. “Chose me?”
Lionheart dismissed his query with a flick of his tail but he had a look in his eyes that said “I’ll tell you later.” Rusty didn’t miss the extra part, saying, “When kitty’s not here.” He was hurt.
“Can I think?” Rusty asked.
Bluestar nodded. “We must go. Please, Rusty, consider it. Your destiny and your fate are on the line here. Think about it. You may even come to... adapt. Meet Lionheart if it is a yes, here tomorrow, same time; if you don’t show, we will accept your no.”
She turned and stalked off. Lionheart sat and nodded at Graypaw.
Graypaw jumped to his feet and turned on Rusty. “Listen, kitty. Our Clan is just fine the way we are—we don’t need a soft-pawed kit in the apprentice den, clogging up space and our warriors’ time and stuffing his face. Take my advice and don’t show your face here again!” he hissed menacingly.
Rusty could smell his own fear scent, now even stronger than Smudge’s.
Lionheart stood and Graypaw went over to him. Lionheart murmured something in Graypaw’s ear, Graypaw’s whiskers quivered in amusement, and on some sort of silent signal, they jumped into the undergrowth in such perfect unison that Rusty did not believe it possible. But it was. As was Smudge’s stories.
Rusty turned to Smudge, alarm in his eyes. “Quick, before someone else finds us!” he panicked.
They ran home.
bye Jay_call out