Warrior Cats EmberClan Fanfiction-- SLATEPAW

WOO it's been ages! But I'm back!

Slatepaw
She vigorously shook her leg, and still the blood wasn’t coming off.

Slatepaw knew it wasn’t her own blood. There wasn’t a scratch on her. She had dodged and swerved around every move of the Frostclan warrior, all the while clawing at his fur until blood spattered on the ground and her front leg. She hated the way the dark red blood dried and matted the short fur on her legs, just sitting there, a reminder of the wounds she inflicted on the fighting tom. Wolf-something was his name, she heard it from another FrostClanner calling out to him. Calling out to him when he was injured, scarred by Slatepaw’s sharp claws.

Despite her own lack of injury, she still felt exhausted. She had never fought, never even seen a FrostClanner before, and their attack had been so unexpected. She was hoping earlier that day that finally her training might show through and Tawnyjade would warm up a little bit. That’s what seemed to have been happening.

But now it was all back to square one, Slatepaw last seeing Tawnyjade conversing anxiously with Emberstar, showing no interest in his apprentice.

What was even the point of trying to improve her situation? Slatepaw wondered. Nothing was going to get better. The warriors and leaders were all stupid, and nothing would change that.

She sighed, staring off at the cloudy sky. The sun had been obnoxiously shing the day before, just after the storm hit FrostClan, but cloudy, smoky skies seemed to be coming back for Emberclanners. The sunset was obscured by the dark grey-sh purple streaks. Slatepaw went back to licking her paw.

“Slatepaw,” called a monotonous voice.

The apprentice whipped her head around. Tawnyjade was seated on a boulder a few feet behind her. “Oh.” Slatepaw lowered her ears. She was not about to go into the main clearing to pick up prey, not for Tawnyjade, not for anyone except herself. And she wasn’t hungry. “Whatever you want, I can’t do it,” she snapped at her mentor.

“I don’t want you to do something,” Tawnyjade replied, lowering his eyebrows. “I just want to talk.”

“About what?” Slatepaw asked in an unconvinced tone. She flicked her tail.

“You know what.” Tawnyjade jumped down from the boulder, his agile muscles bending just as he hit the ground beside Slatepaw.

Still, the apprentice detected a waver on his feet that she knew wasn’t there whenever she and her fellow young cats landed. “You can’t grill me for not trying my hardest when you’re so old you can barely jump,” she retorted.

“All you tried, prentice, was swatting at some young FrostClan warrior in the corner rather than take the action to the deputy and leader. Your brother’s clawed at Dropstar while you hid.”

“I did not hide!” Slatepaw turned around to face her mentor head-on. “All you old cats who favor my brothers were too busy hogging the battlefield to let me in. And would you rather have me die as an apprentice in a meaningless battle?” She shook her head and stared at the ground. She fought with all she had. How dare Tawnyjade try to undermine her and her friend?

“I’d rather have you stay alive, but I can’t speak for the rest of the lead.” Tawnyjade clicked his tongue. “Emberstar was not very happy with the lack of patriotism and contribution from the younger party.”

“Pshh. She’s not my mentor.”

“She’s the leader!” Tawnyjade cried. “It’s never about whether I want you to stay safe-- it’s about her. And she wants apprentices to start their battles young. If you have a problem with that, take it up with her, not me.” Tawnyjade’s lip curled, exposed for a moment his chipped teeth.

“You know there’s nothing I can do.” Slatepaw’s voice was cold.

“There’s nothing I can do either, except hope and pray that you can do something right for once.” The older warrior circled Slatepaw, his body casting shadows against the red rocks. Slatepaw looked straight at her paw, refusing to turn her gaze.

“You know, you’re not being a hero,” Tawnyjade continued. “You’re not a pacifist by refusing to fight. You’re not defending FrostClan. They attacked us first. And without warning, mind you.”

“They were just upset because this clan can’t get its act together to do anything,” Slatepaw reminded.

Tawnyjade frowned slightly. “Well, the fight is over now, and the blood splattered on your leg shows you did some fighting. Don’t know what Emberstar is going to say, but ah well.”

Slatepaw simply shook her head. “Too bad.”

 

Pebbles cascaded down the mountainside. Thye crashed against larger boulders, dripping and falling like muddy water. Or blood.

Slatepaw leaped with the agility of a bird down the sides of the mountain. The cool green forests of FrostClan were growing nearer on the horizon. Slatepaw felt her feet guiding her simply from memory. Under a rusty overhang, in between two oddly purple rocks, pasts a crooked tree. Until, eventually, she reached the spot she was looking for.

It was an area where a sluggish creek dropped down a level in the rocks. Before it began again on lower ground, there was a perfectly vertical, thin waterfall. It was silvery blue, glimmering in the fast fading sunlight. Slatepaw dipped her tail into the water and flicked the dry ground with water, but the waterfall itself wasn't what she wanted. It was what lay underneath it.

In between a wall of rocks and a wall of water, there was a tiny little patch of ground, The dark earth was scattered and messy from where cats dug into it, and the ground dipped slightly from the hole.

This tiny little space, burrowed into the rocky mountainside, was somehow the most tragic and most comforting place for Slatepaw to be.

Despite being far from camp. Slatepaw still wanted to be quiet. It was respect to spirits, in a way. She walked through the thin sheet of water and let the chilling creek flow across her back. She stood with her paws on the edge of the dip in the ground, her eyes watering.

“So,” she began, curling her tail. “I suppose you might be proud of me, for not fighting. For sticking up for what I believe in. I know that is what we want. But Tawnyjade wasn’t too happy. You know, he’s a real pill, I’m sure you can see that. I wonder who you would have gotten as your mentor, if you, well, lived for your apprentice ceremony. I think you would have made a good medicine cat apprentice, but Rustypaw, the current one, is sort of annoying. And Ternstripe is weird. Maybe you could have lucked out with someone like Emberfall someone fierce, who knows how strong you are. She’s the only warrior who’s been nice to be since you died. She doesn’t care you were just a kit, that you weren't wanted anyways-- she understands me. I like that.”

Although talking to her brothers was difficult, to Slatepaw, it was the easiest thing in the world, talking to Cavekit. Her sister, forever buried here behind this waterfall. It was so easy, to spill everything to her. This part of the mountainside was barren without any prey anyways, which meant Slatepaw could say whatever she wanted about Emberstar and nobody would stop her.

“Sister, I usually don’t pray to StarClan-- but please let things work out this time. Please make sure Dropstar lives to save us, if you can call it that-- tat Emberstar can be taken down and Tawnyjade or someone will hep.”

As satisfying as it was to call upon StarClan, Slatepaw knew what she had to do. If she wanted Emberstar to be taken down, for Tawnyjade to decide things and for herself to become a happy warrior, she was the only cat who could make it happen.