Warriors of the Ruins

Veiled beneath the cover of the pines, the black shadow padded his way through the undergrowth, his pale yellow eyes glowing like embers. The smell of rain and mud clung to his fur, disguising his scent as his paws guided him further from his nest and deeper into the forest wet from the early morning showers. If any of his clanmates had heard him sneak out, they would struggle to follow his scent, disguised in the mist.

The dreams had been vivid: the toppled stone walls and rotting planks of wood, the familiar faces now curled into snarls, the dust that sunk into his fur and tickled his nose. The memories of wandering the twolegplace from his apprentice days had manifested itself into nightmares, and when he jolted awake for the second time with phantom jaws around his neck, the tom knew there was a purpose behind these terrors.

As Loonstar approached the stone bridge that left his territory, he felt a chill run through him that froze his paws to the earth. Ghostly cries echoed in his ear, their voices horrifyingly near and familiar, but faded into cricket chirps as his vision returned to him, and he let out a sigh to reassure himself that the crying cats were long dead.

But he could not walk across that bridge. His paws refused to place themselves on the icy stone, and so he stood at the edge, his breaths cold, begging to return to his nest but unable to turn around.

Please, somebody, save me from myself!

(( Sorry this took so long to post! I'll admit, I forgot we had an RP while trying to fix Loonstar's profile-the formatting suddenly made half of it unreadable. Please take all the time you need ))

((It's fine, no worries!))

He stared up into the ceiling of the apprentice den, the loud snoring of his denmates sounding beside him. The rumbling noise kept him awake. After Volepaw had entered the den, his roaring snores had made it difficult for Blackpaw to get a good rest. Restless and exhausted from his inability to sleep, Blackpaw silently slid out of the apprentice's den and took in the cool, moist air. The sky was a deep shade of dark blue. The rays of sunlight had begun to seep into the night sky. The moon was making its usual pathway below the ground.

He looked around camp. A thin veil of mist hung above, slightly obscuring his vision. But he could tell that most of the camps were sound asleep in their dens. He envied them. He wished he could sleep. He sighed and padded over to the fresh-kill pile.

Hmm... Maybe I can go hunting he thought to himself. Considering there was nothing else to do, and he didn't want to disturb his clanmates, he decided that this would be the best option. He slipped out of camp and made his way into the deeper part of RiverClan territory. He wandered around RiverClan territory, sniffing the air but not able to catch any noticeable prey-scents. While padding across the wet terrain, he caught a glimpse of a silhouette in the distance. As he crept closer to the shape, the shadow took into the form of a cat. The mist made it difficult to distinguish any noticeable features.

He padded closer, his curiosity overpowering his senses of danger and caution. He stepped closer, and saw his leader, Loonstar. He stumbled back, a little confused and surprised but curious at the same time.

"Loonstar?" his voice rung across the landscape, disturbing the quiet peace that took place before.

Loonstar jumped at his name and turned his head to see the apprentice, suddenly free to move again. His prayer answered, he hurriedly backed away from the bridge with a stumble, then sat himself down once his pads met the wet grass, his breath shaking.

"B-blackpaw!" He scanned around the darkness, wondering if any other cats had followed him. Realizing how scared he must have looked, he immediately began licking down his upright fur while his trembling soothed.

"Wha..what are you doing awake so early? It's nearly dawn. The night patrol came back a while ago." Loonstar finally managed to lock eyes with the apprentice, and lifted his chin in the hopes he would appear more calm and stoic than he felt.

I didn't hear him following me...but thank Starclan he came.

He was taken aback at how scared his leader appeared. His leader was usually calm, composed and clear-headed. This sudden change made Blackpaw feel as if he shouldn't be here. He cleared his throat and approached the black tom.

"Volepaw's snoring woke me up," he answered simply. He shook his head with a sad sigh and looked up at his leader. Heavy bags of fatigue hung below his orange eyes. "I left camp to go out hunting but I didn't really find anything."

Halfway into his sentence, he broke out into a loud yawn.

"Sorry." He flashed an apologetic smile at Loonstar.

"But, the real question is... what are you doing here?" he asked, feeling a bit daring. His curiosity had gotten the best of him.

Loonstar listened to the apprentice with tired eyes as he lowered his chin, at first thankful that the young tom had ignored his distressed state. But just as the leader was about to suggest they head back to camp, Blackpaw asked the question he had anticipated with silent dread.

"I..uh.." He turned his head slightly to the bridge as if seeking the suggestion from the stone.

What do I tell him? There's no doubt he suspects I was trying to cross the border. I pray to Starclan that he thinks it's for hunting and not....other reasons. The thoughts of the rumours that could come of this encounter made him shuffle, and he locked his eyes onto the ground to avoid his apprentice's face.

Do I tell him the truth? No, he would think I've lost my mind. The last thing Riverclan needs is doubt in their leader....I was out for a night walk, that is all.

But as Loonstar opened his mouth to hack out his lie, he closed it again. This was his only chance to face the nightmare: if he were to return to camp now, he would be stuck in his nest, and one word from this apprentice would have his entrance guarded every night, and he would spend the rest of his nights sleepless.

He had to go to Twolegplace. Now. And if that meant taking Blackpaw with him, then so be it.

Plus, having company would not hurt.

"I need to go to the Old Twolegplace in...Thunderclan territory," he muttered, "...and I need you to come with me. But you must promise not to tell anyone about this, understand?"

His mind was buzzing with so many questions like:

Why does Loonstar need to go to the Twolegplace? Why does Loonstar need him to follow? Why is Loonstar keeping this a secret?

He opened his maw to ask, but the only thing that spilled out of his mouth was an affirmative, "I won't." He padded next to Loonstar, his eyes gleaming as he awaited his leader's next move.

He wasn't sure what made him decide to follow. Curiosity was obviously a factor. But, there was something about the exhausted, sleepless state of his leader. Something was wrong. The sense tingled in his pelt, a feeling he couldn't quite place with words. Ultimately, he decided it would be better to wait and ask questions. Loonstar looked as if he hadn't slept at all during the night. His poor leader might not want an energetic apprentice screeching at his ears.

The leader let out a soft sigh of relief as the apprentice trotted next to him. "Thank you," he muttered, casting a tired, thankful glance towards Blackpaw. Thank you.

Loonstar turned back to the bridge, now brighter as the sun just began peeking from the horizon. He swallowed his hesitation and crept forward, newfound bravery pulsing through his fur, anticipation glowing in his eyes. The night was slowly crawling to an end. They had to move.

The tom hurried towards the bridge. When his paw finally came to touch the icy stone, he paused, then forced the other onto the bridge. Then the rear, and the other rear.

The echos were gone. Seemingly scared off by his clanmate, Loonstar rushed across the stone with hurried steps, not wanting to wait for their appearance. When his paws finally touched dirt on the other side, a small smile crept across his muzzle, which he quickly dropped once he realized how foolish he must have looked.

He cast a wandering glance at the sky, noticing the streaks of sunlight that shone through the dark night. He redirected his attention to the stone bridge, finding that his mentor was already far ahead.

"Wait up!" he yelped, struggling to keep up with his leader. He made a clumsy jump on to the first stone, but instead, his paw slid against its side and he fell into the water. The impact caused a small splash. Blackpaw resurfaced a few moments later, water droplets trickling down his fur. He flashed a tired grin, mouthing the words, "I'm fine!"

He swam over to the other side. He climbed out of the water and shook out the water from his pelt. Most of the water had left his fur, leaving his pelt relatively dry. He padded over to his leader, catching a brief smile on his face.

"Let's go!" he said. Even in his tired state, his eyes shone with eagerness. After moons of doing the same thing, the same task over and over again, he was excited to be able to explore the unknown.

The splash startled Loonstar out of his head and back in, suddenly horrified as his mind swirled with the guilt that his ghosts had claimed another victim, and a tremble began to rise. But as the apprentice padded next to him with eager glee, he could do nothing but shake the thoughts away, and turn back towards the journey.

"Try to be more careful, Blackpaw. We don't need all of Thunderclan knowing we're here," the usual, stern voice of the leader had returned for the first time that night, forced out by concern. There was a moment of silence, then he turned towards Blackpaw, silent as his tail kinked over back to signal, "follow me."

He padded forward and embraced the cover of the trees, his silhouette almost completely lost back in the shadow. His fur was raised like quills as he forced himself to venture deeper, his glowing eyes alight with caution for the enemy that slept around them. Let us hope that the night patrol was tired tonight.

"Right," he murmured, trying to nod as if he could fulfill his leader's request. Blackpaw was probably the worst cat to take out on a secret mission. But he tried his best to keep quiet anyway.

He kept a close distance behind his mentor. His eyes wandered here and there, catching no sign of movement other than the occasional rustle of wind. He refocused his attention on following his mentor. The two of them crept across the long stretches of territory. It wasn't too long until they entered ThunderClan territory. The once open sky was now covered by the thick canopy overhead. The pungent scent of ThunderClan slammed at his nose. It was especially fresh. He glanced at his mentor with a worried expression.

"Won't the ThunderClan cats be able to track our scent, when we're just walking across their land? We probably should have disguised our scent before we entered their territory," he said.

Loonstar froze at the apprentice's comment, his paw left hanging mid-step.

Then, silently, the leader trotted towards a nearby pine and slowly laid himself down the dusty, needle-covered floor; ignoring the discomfort of the needles poking into his skin, he rolled onto his back and squirmed, making sure to rub the sharp smell of the tree into his fur. When he rose again, the intense scent of the needles and dripping sap clung to his fur, almost masking out the scent of fish and reeds. Although hard to make out in the dark, he turned his gaze towards Blackpaw and gestured him to do the same.

If the tom could blush, he would have been bright red. How could he be foolish enough to not mask his scent? And to have an apprentice remind him, no less? He crept away from the tree and into a nearby bush to wait, not speaking a word, not even to protest the miserable state of his pelt; in the dense cover of leaves, he begged for his embarrassment to pass.

He followed his leader's example, and leaned against the forest ground. He rolled on to his back, his stomach side flashing white. He recalled that his mentor told him that showing your belly to someone was a sign of letting your guard down. He warily glanced around the trees, but the darkness of the night, and the small of gaps of moonlight filtering in, made it difficult to see. He rubbed his back against the needles, catching clumps of twigs and moss in his fur.

He rose up from his position, and turned to his leader. Blackpaw's pelt wasn't all that clean before, but now his fur was now a tangled, disheveled mess. Leaves stubbornly clung to his fur, no matter how hard he tried to get it out. He sighed, murmuring a defeated, "Oh well."

"What next?" he asked. At first, he didn't notice how messy Loonstar looked. But on closer inspection, he burst out into a giggle. He cut his laughter short, as he realized who he was talking to. Seeing his leader in a fashion that wasn't formal or orderly felt strange and unusual. But in the leader's awkwardness, Blackpaw felt a sort of odd connection with the older tom. Maybe Loonstar was all that collected as he thought he was.

"Well, I guess you're like me now," he finally said, shrugging. He smiled at the leader. At the corner of his eye, he caught a brief glimpse of movement in the shadows. He even thought he heard a quiet rustle in the shrubs. He paid little attention to it, reasoning to himself that his minds was only playing tricks on him.

Loonstar watched the apprentice mimic his example from the cover of his bush, waiting for the heat of embarrassment to cool from his skin as his eyes trailed the black shadow fidgeting in the needles. When Blackpaw finally rose to reveal his soiled pelt, the older tom crawled out of his cover and met the apprentice's defeated mumble with a hidden smirk; he glanced over the other's tousled fur and forced the imagery of cleaning their pelts afterwards out of his mind. He could already feel his tongue aching.

"We continue towards the Twolegplace," the leader replied in a breezy whisper. But he was cut short by the apprentice's laughter, and realized with a inwards sigh how foolish his own matted pelt must have looked. He smiled, "I wouldn't laugh if I were you. You're going to have to lick it clean once we head back." Then he gestured back in the direction they were heading, and turned to continue their trek.

But just as he passed the pine, he heard a faint rustle. He froze, and his ears perked up and forward. Slowly, his paws dropped onto the mossy earth, and his claws unsheathed from their furred cover. His pale green eyes darted around the shaded undergrowth; beneath his breath, he hissed "Blackpaw, was that you?"

"Yuck," he responded.

His tongue stuck out in disgust at the thought of washing the dirt off his fur with his tongue. No thanks. He followed his leader but stopped short when the rustling grew louder. He turned. A pair of emerald-colored eyes flashed open. The eyes stared directly at him. He stumbled back in surprise.

"Loonstar? I t-think I see green eyes staring at me from those bush," his head nodded in the direction of the bushes. The sounds of rustling and branch snapping grew louder. The eerie sounds prickled at the skin underneath his fur. His hair bristled. His paws shook. He crept over to a dark figure, only to find that it wasn't Loonstar. It was a ThunderClan cat. They were a massive, gray-and-white she-cat.

"What do we have here?" Blackpaw heard the she-cat snarl. He jerked backward. Instead of Loonstar, he found another ThunderClan cat, a ginger one. The cat circled around him.

"An apprentice and a leader," the cat said, leaning toward Blackpaw's pelt. The ginger cat sniffed him. Out of instinct, Blackpaw batted his paw at the cat's muzzle. The ginger figure stepped back at just the right time, narrowly dodging Blackpaw.

"RiverClan. What are you doing so far from your camp? Particularly the leader of RiverClan?" asked the gray-and-white cat.