#sprouting thorns

Myrtlewing was a master at keeping his composure. 

If he had to act happy and respectful, he could do it while smiling ear-to-ear or bowing his head as low as the roots beneath the soil, no matter how viciously rage boiled in his lungs or in his limbs, begging him to scream, to slash, to do anything to release the quivering fury that was forced to keep hidden.

But now, as he collected burdock for Aldereyes’s wounds, he felt that wall that he was so good at keeping up began to slip.

He chewed the roots up with sharp bites, and Aldereyes flinched, though didn’t hiss, as he applied the meshy, stinging herbs into the wound on the side of Aldereyes’s neck.

“...and he called me a coward!” Aldereyes went on, claws working in and out of the ground in frustration.

Aldereyes had led a patrol near the Carrion Place, when one of the warriors–Echofoot–apparently got too close, and a group of rats jumped them. It was four cats against six rats, and in the fight, Aldereyes killed two of them.

Everyone else had killed one at most, but that didn’t matter to Aldereyes’s father. As far as Stormstar was concerned, Aldereyes ran away like a coward when a second wave of rats was coming for the group.

Myrtlewing resisted the urge to lash his tail at the memory.

—---------

“You just let them chase you away?” Stormstar had demanded after the patrol informed him of the attack.

“It wasn’t worth the risk,” Aldereyes responded, eyes unable to meet Stormstar’s.

“You don’t think protecting your Clanmates is worth the risk?” Stormstar’s voice had been loud, ringing out throughout the entire camp so not one of their Clanmates were unaware of the lecture. All eyes had been on the two cats–on Aldereyes as he was being yelled at.

“That’s not what I mean–”

“What if the rats kept chasing you?” Stormstar questioned. “You would have led them right to your vulnerable Clanmates. Maplefall is expecting, did you know that? What if they had bitten her? You would be responsible!”

Maplefall, in the watching crowd, gasped.

Aldereyes’s ears flattened. His head was ducked so far, his chin almost met his chest. 

Echofoot stepped forward. “He fought more bravely than any of us,” she told her leader nervously. 

But Stormstar wasn’t convinced. He sniffed disdainfully. “He killed two rats when, by your account, a total of over twenty attacked you. And I am meant to be pleased?” He glared at his son. “You weren’t a hero. You only did what you could without putting yourself in real danger so that no one would question it when you ran away like a kit. I expect more from my son. Get those scratches seen to, then make yourself useful, preferably something that will make up for your cowardice.”

—---------

“That was three days ago,” Myrtlewing responded to his friend, “and I still have to give you herbs for the wounds. Echofoot, Blazepad, and Mossflake were cleared two days ago.” His gaze locked with Aldereyes. “You are NOT a coward.”

Aldereyes’s muscles loosened, relaxing slightly, though his claws continued to work and his teeth clenched together so tightly, Myrtlewing thought that one would snap out and strike him in the eye. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing I do will convince Stormstar of my strength, or bravery, or….or anything that will make him proud of me.” 

“A father like him doesn’t deserve a son like you.”

Aldereyes snarled at nothing. “I do everything for him! I trained from dusk ‘til dawn and even at night, and I still train! I work patrol after patrol, catch more than any other warrior, I win more fights, I’ve been undefeated in training for moons! I’m the best warrior in this Clan, Stars, the best cat! But he still looks at me like I’m–...like he hates to call me his son.”

Myrtlewing couldn’t think of any comforting words, so he decided to speak his feelings. “He’s a vile mange-pelt,” he spat. “He’s probably bitter because he knows that he’s a leader, but his son, a warrior, is twice the cat that he’ll ever be. If anything, he’s the coward,” he went on when Aldereyes didn’t respond. “He goes on and on about fighting and protecting the Clan, but when was the last time he got his own paws dirty?”

Aldereyes bristled. “Because he’s the leader. He could flip a pebble and cats will call him great for it, but I’d have to move a boulder from here to Fourtrees to get a simple ‘good work’ from him.”

Myrtlewing nodded in agreeing anger. “He’s nothing without his title, and he knows it. Everyone knows it. That’s why he calls you a coward,” Myrtlewing realized. “And it’s why he does it in front of everyone–to make himself look better, and to make you look worse, so cats forget that his own son is a better warrior, a better cat, and a better leader than he’ll ever be. He should be proud. The fact that he’s not is on him, not you.”

Aldereyes stared, eyes wide. Then he cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m not a leader.”

Myrtlewing shrugged. “I’d still say you’d make a better one.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. Now, get out before you make the whole den stink!”

==================

Aldereyes could not hear the displeased murmurings that had been ringing quietly along the edge of every life he had so far been given. Now, there was no talking, no whistle of wind brushing his ears, not even blood pounding within his skull.

It was as if all was still–including his very heart, not falling to the pit of his stomach nor leaping into his throat, not melting with warmth or freezing with ice. It was as if he couldn’t feel anything at all, as if his brain didn’t have the capability of allowing him to look at who he was looking at and process how that would make him feel at the same time. It would be too much. It was too much.

So he was left looking at Sweettree, saying nothing, only gaping and staring like a fish flung onto the sandy shores of Riverclan.

Sweetree’s expression, however, was painfully clear. Her eyes shimmered with a sadness so powerful and deep that Aldereyes was sure that every cat in all five Clans could drown in them, and there would still be room left for the loners. Beneath them were bags so heavy her face drooped, coated in a fervid red like a fever. Her fur was a mess, flat against her frame in some places and sticking out randomly in others. Stars..she looked worse now than when she had died.

And Aldereyes is responsible for it.

The numbness thawed instantaneously, and as though there was the chill of a rainstorm over his head, Aldereyes felt droplets of coldness bury themselves beneath his aching skin, crawling beneath it like worms and inching toward his eyes, where they stung until they fell, soaking his cheeks. His stomach, on the other hand, was uncomfortably hot, and his gut felt as if it were being pulled and twisted. “Sweet-Sweettree!” He gasped, struggling to stand.

His mother stood there, whiskers away yet fields apart from him, saying nothing. Was she rejecting him? His own mother?

Did he deserve it?

An eternity passed, Aldereyes barely holding the strength to keep the wail of anguish from his throat any longer, when Sweettree stepped forward. She seemed hesitant, and Aldereyes couldn’t help but guess-almost feel as if he knew with certainty–that she didn’t want to so much as look at him, because he couldn’t be her son. Her precious kit. She didn’t want who he was anymore, no longer the kitten suckling at her belly or begging for a story, telling her while standing proudly on his small, stubby legs that he loved her and she was his best friend.

She didn’t want this monster.

Right now, he felt like the kit that she so desperately wanted, his own desperation and sorrow crashing through his entire body in endless waves, making his whole body shake and words quiver so much that they were almost incomprehensible. He remembered his mother and how much he missed her, but he had always pushed those memories to the back of his mind to avoid feeling them. Now, they were all around him. He could smell her milk, he could feel her warmth and the way she purred beside him, the way she pulled him close and licked his fur, even if he was already clean, because she just wanted to hold him while she still could. For a few heartbeats, he was that kit again. “M-Momma?” 

Sweettree’s eyes widened. She rushed forward so quickly, Aldereyes had no time to react. He stiffened in surprise when she buried her head into the side of his neck, then melted into the feeling, drinking in her scent as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “My precious son! I miss you so much! If only I had been there–I could have guided you–”

“No,” Aldereyes cut her off, forcing himself to focus on the reality of where he was, instead of the fantasy of the nursery from moons and moons ago. “You couldn’t have.” He frowned, chin trembling. “There’s a darkness in me, mom.”

Sweettree didn’t respond. She couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t agree. After several long heartbeats, she pulled away and faced him. “I love you, all the same. That will never stop, even if I hate what you have done.”

Aldereyes looked at his paws. How could he face his mother now?

“Look at me,” she told him, more firmly. He did so trepidatiously.

A fury began to burn in his mother’s irises. “I hate that you’re a killer. I hate that you’re a betrayer. I hate that you hurt cats that are kind to you, that trust you. I hate that you murder cats that don’t even know you. I hate the thoughts that you allow yourself to think. I hate that you let them control you. I hate what you let them do to my innocent little kit. But I can’t hate you. I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to. You’re still my kit, my precious golden star.”

A whimper escaped Aldereyes. He had forgotten his mother’s nickname for him.

His chest heaved when she pressed her nose gently against his head. He sniffed, hardly holding onto control and resisting the overwhelming need to let the sobs wracked his body. He dug his claws deep into the ground to steady himself. 

“With this life, I give you love. Please, please don’t let it lead you astray anymore.”

What did she mean by that?

Water slipped down Aldereyes’s throat, filling his lungs with a hot liquid that bubbled and buzzed within him. His paws tingled with a pleasant sensation that almost had him bouncing around the clearing. Then his spine stiffened, ice gripping the cartilage, spreading to his ribs and into the liquid like Riverclan in leaf-bare. No! No! He didn’t want the feeling to leave, but even so, he could feel the crackling tendrils spread deeper, and the warmth was completely gone.

Sweetree blinked at him solemnly. Then she raised her head. “Alderstar! Alderstar! Alderstar!”

Hers was the only voice throughout the clearing. If Aldereyes shut his eyes, he could have imagined her as a lone cat in a ravine, her words echoing off of the stones.

Everyone else sat in complete silence.

That was okay.

Alder is light, Night is dark (hence the name),

Alder is strong and capable of many feats, Night is thin and clumsy at every task

Alder is confident, Night always doubts himself

Night had a brother better at everything, Alder was the brother better at everything

Little bit more blurry, and this time by m-o-u-r-i

Again, this is NOT to scale of one another.

- - - -

--Hoot, Snow, and Rosebranch are she-cats, Goldengaze and Frogstreak are toms.

--Aside from Hoot, all designs are taken from @ambitiousauthor who wrote their descriptions in Gorsedaisy's Nightmare (also seen in Rainstar's Burden). Rose was listed as a calico, so I decided to be creative with it. I also added a scar to Snowpad.

--Snowpad had to stay in the medicine den for a long time after she received her injury, and many were skeptical that she would have survived. She has problems with memory and concentration, though thankfully is better at planning (which can also be affected if injured in the area that she was).

After her injury, Snowpad's personality changed. She became more impulsive, and less able to hold back bursts of emotion. In spite of this, she proved herself and became the deputy, later leader. Her own deputy was a friend and former apprentice of hers that helped her figure out methods to aid her memory and concentration.

Gatherings are tough for her due to the impulsivity and bursts of emotions bit, but with effort and hard work, she works around it--it is not completely gone, she cannot magically make it go away when she needs it to, but she can better direct it in a way that is not as harmful as it could be.

It's kind of hard to see, but Snowpad is all white with lighter paws!

--After Rainstar, Rosebranch was the first to become leader.

--Frogstreak was leader for seven moons before he passed. He was still young and wanted to prove himself, so when senior warriors and elders voiced their doubts, he lead the Clan into battle (likely for Sunningrocks, as it was the old territories).

Edit:

What if the senior warriors and/or elders that talked badly about Frogstar's leadership were friends of his late father and he wanted to impress them, wanted to make them proud, and in doing so it got him killed

There were injuries, but nothing beyond scars. That is, until the fourth fight in, when Frogstreak's throat was slashed in a wound too big to come back from.

--Goldengaze is very serious all the time. A huge buzzkill.

--Hoot :3

==============

Individual:

@starfalcon555 @wills-woodland-warriors @frightnightindustries

Nightfly purred, pressing deeper against Myrtlewing’s side. His mate’s scent was all around him, the earthy peat of the marsh swimming in the air, mingling with Nightfly’s own heathery scent, surrounding the two of them like a bubble. There was nothing to worry about here, hidden in the shadows far from either of their territories. No patrols to make until the sun had well-risen, no arguments with kin or missed prey to feel bad for.

It was just them, and it was perfect.

Nightfly glanced at Myrtlewing, who was licking up the last bits of field mice Nightfly had given him. He had told a great story of how he had strategized a method to catch them both at once, but Myrtlewing had only looked at him amused, and obviously knew that Nightfly had caught them by luck. 

In a way, it made him feel better. Myrtlewing knew that he was a clumsy oaf, and he loved him anyway. 

Back home, Nightfly’s brother, Sheepsorrel, excelled at basically everything he tried. Nightfly cringed, remembering when the two of them had snuck out as kits. Sheepkit had found a nest of infant mice and killed the small pink things easily in spite of his age. Nightkit had found a fox trap.

Don’t think about that now, Nightfly told himself sternly. It doesn’t matter how good Sheep is at…at everything. I’m the one who has everything. He looked again at his mate, this time fully-on, and a deeper purr rumbled from his throat. It caught Myrtlewing’s attention and the dark brown tom caught his gaze. 

Myrtlewing smiled.

Nightfly was sure he would burst with happiness. “I wish we could stay like this forever,” he admitted, feeling somehow so safe and so vulnerable.

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Myrtlewing replied. Nightfly’s heart had only started to drop when Myrtlewing spoke again. “Being apart is hard, but it makes moments like this all the better, don’t they? And if we could stay like this forever, well, I don’t think I’d ever want to leave…we’d starve!” 

He began to chuckle, and Ngihtfly joined in. “I guess that’s true. And it is pretty fun to sneak out. I feel like an apprentice going against what their mentor said.”

“Did that often?” Myrtlewing asked, reaching to lick behind Nightfly’s ears.

Nightfly settled into the embrace. “Uh…no, but it probably wouldn’t have been this great anyways.” He flicked his tail behind him. It hadn’t exactly gone well when he had disobeyed orders in his youth. But I’m disobeying so many right now, Nightfly thought. I’m mates with someone in another Clan, I’m mates with a medicine cat, we’ve crossed the borders so many times to meet…Nightfly should feel ashamed, but love had completely flooded his body. There was no room for anything else, no shame, no worry. There was only the deep affection that sank through his skin and swirled all around his heart.

@ambitiousauthor​

Finally done!

He’s missing a toe. I like to think that it was either one of the boys or Bella-May (the story amuses him now).

I imagined Bella-May looking at him when they met, thinking him hot, and thinking something like “I’d bet he would taste great.”

Which leads me to wonder--which one was the cannibal first?

--

I haven't been paying full attention to the seasons and moon-paces of the chapters when I first started, but now the story is more important to me than the simple "background thing" it was before, so here is the official time + some edits that I had to make!

SEASON:

Greenleaf [Chapters Quiet Here--Clanmates] (Two moons, making the months most likely July--August, or possibly August--September)

Leaf-Fall [Chapters Clanmates--??]

BREAKS IN TIME:

After Myrtlewing meets Nightfly, half a moon passes and they meet again at the gathering. This is where Myrtlewing's plan starts its formation.

Another half-moon passes when the Half-moon meeting takes place, and Myrtlewing goes to WindClan to speak with Nightfly. This is also the same time Alder starts bonding with Hootpetal.

Another half-moon passes between this and when Myrtlewing kills Fleetsong.

Another half-moon passes after Alder discovers Myrtlewing's murders and commits his own. He has been avoiding him for this time before deciding that he had to see it for himself to stop his spiraling thoughts--when Maplefall interrupts them by giving birth.

There! That's the part I had to fix--Maple got pregnant just before Myrtle met Nightfly, and I realized that she gave birth too early, so I created longer gaps and one gap where there wasn't one before (but it still reads fine).

[Cats are pregnant for about two moons, and this is half+half+half+half=two full].

----

“So, medicine cat, eh?” Redjay settled beside his grandson, who had snuck out of the nursery and kept to the shadows of the camp wall to avoid being shooed back in or be seen talking to air.

Myrtlekit nodded enthusiastically. He had told Hickoryskip his decision earlier that day, and guessed that either Redjay or another of his family had seen the discussion. “A good choice, right?”

Redjay made a doubtful grunt. “Are you sure it’s the path for you? You have a bloodlust in you, little one, battles are a good way to quench the thirst.”

“But it’s so mindless,” Myrtlekit responded, pulling his mouth to one side. “Slashing around is fun, but it’ll get boring in time, right? And what am I gonna do when there’s no war for moons?”

His grandfather grinned, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Aw, so mind games has piqued your interest, has it?” His smile dropped. “But you’ll have to target the weak, and you’re better than that. Stronger than that.”

Anger clawed Myrtlekit’s chest. “I’m no coward! If they’re not weak, I’ll make them weak, then I’ll make them all beg for mercy and give them none!”

Redjay’s eyes sparked. A ring of energy seemed to shoot through his body, lifting his fur in enthusiasm. “Oh, the fire in you, my little one!” He tilted his head, so far it almost looked like the bones inside had split apart. “I suppose I do see the benefits. Herbs and poison right by your paws, to be used at your disposal…”

“Trusted by my Clanmates and leader,” Myrtlekit added, remembering Bella-May’s advice.

“StarClan won’t rat on you, because you’ll be their messenger.” Redjay’s grin was returning.

“Gorsedaisy will hate it.” Myrtlekit spat the name. The elderly medicine cat had never liked him, and wasn’t shy on making her thoughts clear. 

Redjay’s eyes darkened. “Indeed she will. The Clan knows she’s lost her petals. Ha! They’ll trust you more than her!” Redjay’s whole body shook. “I can just imagine what she’d say! ‘No! Please don’t let him become a medicine cat! He’s evil, I tell you! Evil!’”

Myrtlekit pressed his paw to his muzzle, stifling the laughter that threatened to choke him, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to breathe. The impression Redjay made was perfect. For a second, he thought that Gorsedaisy really had spoken. Sure, it was a little dramatic in its mockery, but the idea was still clear. “Do it again, do it again!” He prompted.

Redjay did so, though he had to control his own chuckles before he could speak again.  “‘You’re all fools! Fools! I guess I’ll speak to you when you get to StarClan, because that’s where the lot of you will end up, mark my words!”

Myrtlekit burst out in a fit of open laughter, rolling onto his side until he gasped for air. “One more!”

“Myrtlekit, what are you doing out here?” Myrtlekit whipped around to face Grebeglade, his aunt, who had been on guard duty. “What’s got you so amused?”

Myrtlekit looked over his shoulder. Redjay’s spirit had already disappeared. “I saw a frog jump on a squirrel, and I thought it was really funny!” 

Grebeglade looked around. Her whiskers twitched, and she blinked at him with warm amusement. “Must have been a dream. Go back to your mother, alright? You could freeze out here.”

“Okay, I will!” Myrtlekit told her, and bounded back to the nursery. His fur still buzzed as he settled in the nest beside Blacksong, and the smile remained on his face as he fell into the darkness of sleep.

==================

--Probably one of the cutest stories we'll ever see of Myrtlwing.

--I like to think that Redjay does his mimicry often for the amusement of the little ones.

@ambitiousauthor