Quietly

Important Cats

Pinefoot - a pitch black ShadowClan tom. He's ambitious and dearly loves his Clan but even those closest to him find him emotionally distant and stand-offish.

Juniperpatch - a scrawny, elderly, pale tortoiseshell she-cat. ShadowClan's deputy since Cardinalstar first became leader, she'd planned to retire soon to make room for a younger deputy who could lead ShadowClan for many seasons after she and Cardinalstar had gone. This plan fell through when Cardinalstar lost his last life to greencough. She's unable to receive her nine lives due to a rock fall seasons ago that had blocked off the Moonpool.

Wolfstar - a massive, pale tortoiseshell she-cat with dark stripes and a silvery underside. Leader and creator of WolfClan, the combined forces of WindClan and RiverClan. She's been silent on ShadowClan closing their borders since the creation of WolfClan but now that they are leaderless her impatience is starting to show.

Stillpaw - a large tom with oddly colored lilac-gray colorpoints. He used to Pinefoot’s apprentice but was convinced to go to WolfClan when ShadowClan continued to outcast him for his looks and kittypet father.

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“But there is nothing to be proud of if your history is erased.”

ShadowClan rippled as heads turned and Pinefoot realized with a start he had been the one to speak. He could feel Juniperpatch’s narrowed eyes on his form but the tom could not find the bravery to turn and face her. He and the elderly she-cat had never seen eye-to-eye but he did not want the other to think him a challenge to her leadership. Other Clans may let their warriors run free of tongue but ShadowClan leaders were fiercer and prouder than the lot of them. He’d grown on tales of leaders breaking the jaws of cats who got too mouthy and he would surely hear them again when they returned to camp.

If we return.

Wolfstar’s orange eyes bore into him, as impassive to his words as she was to the whole of ShadowClan waiting on her border. This was not a cat to be taken lightly. The size of her paws alone were enough to bowel over two fully grown ShadowClan warriors. Her personality was little known in ShadowClan but the fact that she’d join together two Clans with the avid support of both spoke enough of her wit. This was not a war ShadowClan could barge into without thought or fear and Pinefoot silently berated Juniperpatch for forcing this fight. He had the brains to hold his tongue this time however.

“My warrior speaks true.” Juniperpatch’s voice creaked against the cold gust of wind that tore through the open ground. It ripped past Pinefoot’s fur and sent a shiver into his bones. He wondered how the tortoiseshell would make it through the harsh season when her voice could so barely break over the bristling breeze. The thought chilled him further. “Those from WindClan, how many of your traditions do you see being passed down to this new generation of WolfClan kits? Do they pray to StarClan and eat together as a group at every meal? Do they know what times of the year there are sheep on the moorland? Or instead are they taught how to catch carp and how to spot the difference between deep and shallow water?”

No cat spoke though a few shifted, a single twitch of an ear here or there exposing their discomfort. The WindClan warriors were easy to pick out, small and lean compared to the heavy builds and bright pelts RiverClan was notorious for. The Clan looked disjointed and as Pinefoot stared down the line he noticed how seperated the WindClan and RiverClan cats were. Bunched together with their own former Clanmates rather than mingled as a united front.

As his eyes swept over the RiverClan warriors the black tom was drawn to a bright patch of white off to the side. Stillpaw’s bright blue eyes were stuck on Juniperpatch, his expression as narrowed and reserved as Pinefoot remembered it being when he’d trained the young tom not three moons ago. He’d grown. His build was fuller, face more set. It looked like he’d finally grown into those huge paws of his.

The warm pride that seized Pinefoot’s chest bittered out with the realization that Stillpaw’s clean white pelt and bright lilac-gray patches blended seamlessly with the wide array of colors in the RiverClan cats. He no longer stuck out like a bad weed as he had in ShadowClan. He was no longer hunched over and side eyeing his Clanmates in wariness. Stillpaw had finally found acceptance and no amount of support from Dawnwind or Crowfern could compete against a whole Clan rejecting his existence as ShadowClan had. Sharp pain stabbed at Pinefoot’s insides. Facing off against his former apprentice on a battlefield let the last bit of hope drain out of him.

Pinefoot had failed Stillpaw. He’d failed Crowfern and Dawnwind. He’d failed ShadowClan, letting such a bright, clever warrior slip away from them.

“Enough of this.”

Wolfstar’s impatient mew broke Pinefoot’s thoughts and grounded him back to the severity of the situation. Blood would be shed today and the warrior’s fear for his former apprentice grew to fear of ShadowClan’s fate. Juniperpatch’s moons were numbered and she was determined to waste them on war with WolfClan. 

“You want them to rebel so badly. My warriors are free to speak any concern they may have over the state of WolfClan.” The cats surrounding the massive tortoiseshell did not waver under the direct challenge of their leader. Even the fidgety WindClan cats stilled, their focus sharpened on the line of ShadowClan cats across the border. Pinefoot resisted the urge to sink his claws into the frozen earth as he counted down every warrior and apprentice facing them.

Wolfstar’s large tail wafted in the air, her face upturned in an ugly sneer. “My patience for your games is wearing thin, Juniperpatch. Will you go quietly?”

“I was never meant to go quietly.”

The words were so soft. So final. Pinefoot doubted any of WolfClan had heard her but they sent a ripple through the waiting ShadowClan line. This time Pinefoot could not stop his claws from digging down as pelts bristled up in fear around him. This was not a battle ShadowClan was meant to win and Juniperpatch knew it. She knew it just as well as every warrior standing beside her now knew it.

Juniperpatch’s meeting with Nightstar. Her call to the WindClan warriors standing opposite them. This battle was a matter of defending not territory, but their way of life and everything Wolfstar had turned her back on. 

Pinefoot shifted. Spreading his paws out and grounding himself to the finality Juniperpatch had already accepted long before they’d reached this battlefield. His tail flicked, gently brushing the pelt of Grayclaw standing beside him. The she-cat jumped, her fear-scent souring the air around her as she jerked her neck to stare at Pinefoot. He gazed into her wide, orange eyes and gave a small nod, bracing his shoulders as he looked away to stare down the line of enemies. He could hear her rapid breathing slow to shallow gulps as she straightened out, mimicking his pose. 

Up and down the line ShadowClan recollected itself. Bristling fear lent itself to rage against the injustice of Wolfstar’s crimes. That they had to fight this battle at all because the she-cat was too intoxicated on power. Their borders were not safe with her across the line. Their traditions, their code, their way of life was not safe with her Clan prowling along the edges of their territory.

“The death of a warrior is honorable,” Pinefoot whispered as Wolfstar’s orange eyes narrowed. As her lips curled back to reveal fangs that could break a cat’s neck. As Juniperpatch stepped forward with the rest of her Clan behind her.

“We are not meant to go quietly.”