letting go [swiftclaw]

[swiftclaw]

↑ s w i f t c l a w ↓

He walked through a forest of shadows. His patched pelt looked even more splotched than usual was outlines slid across his features with each step. He'd been through a number of forests in the last moon, but this one was different. Where the moonlight came down through the trees, the ground and underbrush seemed to glow. There was something special about this place, he was sure.

As it seemed there always was, a clearing could be seen not far ahead of him. It seemed to call to him in a silent, eerie sort of way. He felt himself tugged towards it and did nothing to resist it. It took only a few steps to slide out of the shadows. At once his fur erupted with light. He bowed his head and breathed in deeply, feeling the moon's cool light reflect off his body. His white fur was purged of any blemish and his black patches shown darker than a moonless night. He slowly lifted his head again, opening his eyes. The light glinted off them in a mysterious, but threatening, way. The sage-green of his gaze stared forward, to the figure sitting before him.

"My son."

It was a great black cat, his eyes a very piercing gold. He had the same broad, shaped shoulders of the green-eyed tom. His fur, though, was shorter, a thick bristling coat. Their eyes met and held for a long moment. This was Swiftstar, leader before Fernstar, and father of both of cats who had succeeded him. This was the first time he had ever looked at his son with such a note of... pride.

For a brief moment, the patched tom savored the glow emanating from his father's gaze. But only a very brief moment. His childhood desires of being fully accepted and respected slipped away. His mind fell back into the present. He clamped his eyes shut, feeling a great number of emotions and images well up in his heart. After only a second, he took a step forward, claws extended and teeth bared in a snarl.

"I am no son of yours!"

Swiftstar, the powerful dark leader, had been dead for over four seasons. Immediately following his death, BrookClan had upheld a great respect for the leader that had done so much for them-- and the entire forest. But that feeling had quickly passed when the Fox Attack began. Numerous scenarios flashed through Swiftclaw's mind. Perhaps the dead leader could have brought wisdom to Fernstar. Or he could have sent dreams to the other leaders, begging them not to leave weak BrookClan behind. But no, none of that had occurred. Instead, Swiftstar had left with the rest of StarClan. While a pawful of ancestors had staid behind, their respected and beloved guardian had abandoned them.

"You gave up that right when you abandoned BrookClan. We've been living in Hell because of you!"

He hadn't expected Swiftstar's reaction. Instead of looking angry in any way [as he would have reacted in life], the dark-furred warrior's look of pride and respect grew. His gold eyes were practically radiating.

"And yet you made them strong again. You have led them from that land of terrors..."

Swiftclaw narrowed his eyes, stamping one paw impatiently. He opened his mouth to speak, but something in his father's face silenced him. The dark face of the dead leader lit up with a crazed sort of glee.

"... But not before you destroyed Kolette. She was BrookClan's oppressor. And you smote her down with ease."

"It was far from easy," Swiftclaw snapped. "I nearly lost my life bringing freedom to my clanmates."

The patched tom's fur was fluffed and his hackles raised. Along his back, running from his left shoulder to his right flank, he could feel a long scar burn as he relived the black vixen's claws sliding down his back and into his flesh. Likewise, though, he shuddered with the same anxious exhilaration he'd felt when his own claws had scored her slim body. It had been a battle of a lifetime. And certainly one he had never expected to rise alive from. Few cats could ever brag having killed a fox before, but Swiftclaw was one of those who had succeeded such a feat. Her weakness was, he'd realized one day spying on her from a distance, that she just ordered her pack of fox dogs around, never using much force on them. She was intelligent, yes, far more intelligent than any fox he'd ever met before. But she was small and slim; even Swiftclaw's shoulders stood broader than hers. The battle had lasted for several hours. In the end, he hadn't even had the strength to stand. If his clanmates hadn't found him there, he surely would have died that night.

The dead leader didn't appear to have heard him. He stood and took a few steps to Swiftclaw's right. Beneath a shadowy tree, the gold-eyed cat stared. Ears flickering back, the living cat followed, curious to see what had captured his attention so fully. Amongst the tree's roots were four sleeping forms. One was mostly black, one very nearly white, another covered in bright calico patches, and the last a pale tabby. Swiftclaw's eyes snapped quickly between his father and the sleeping cats.

"My grandkits... They'll have your strength when they're warriors. Fine, fine warriors."

A snarl slipped from Swiftclaw in a heartbeat. He slid his body between his father and his kits. His green eyes were darkened beyond any anger he'd already shown in the moonlit clearing. His long claws dug into the ground, and his tail flicked back and forth furiously.

"Stay away from them. They've grown up fine without you; they should never have to know who you are."

An odd expression slid over Swiftstar's face. He flicked his tail and a small form slid from the shadows, coming up beside him.

"Why would you say that, Swiftclaw? Your kits come from a long line of powerful warriors. They should know their ancestry." The smaller cat came into view. "Echokit seems to have enjoyed knowing her grandfather..."

Swiftclaw leapt backwards, away from the two cats. The small cat at the dead leader's side was a young black and white she-cat with vibrant green eyes. She cocked her head to the side, staring up at Swiftclaw questioningly. The patched tom recoiled further. Seeing his dead father was one thing, but his only dead kit... Echokit was the only one of her litter whom the dangers of Kolette's rule and claimed. While the others had grown strong and begun their training, she had died small and young. She was the spitting image of her father.

Before any more words could be exchanged, Swiftclaw decided he'd had enough. He turned on spot and fled into the forest, brambles tugging at his long fur and scratching his face. No matter how fast he ran, he couldn't move quick enough to keep Swiftstar's voice from catching up with him.

"BrookClan will be great again because of you, my son."

* * *

He managed to muffle his cry as his body fell rigid and his eyes snapped open. There was darkness all around him. A tremor shook through his body. Longing to continue running, even though the dream was over, Swiftclaw rolled to his paws and took a few steps through the night air.

They were in a forest they didn't know. It had been half a moon since they'd left their home-- well, what had been left of it. Even after Kolette's death, the forest was in ruin. Most of her followers had left the clan cats alone. But none of the prey had come back. And danger still lurked around every corner. Greenleaf was coming on again in another few moons. If the land dried out as much as it had the last time, BrookClan would be no better off than they had while Kolette still alive. The old forest was dead. A new home waited for them, somewhere.

The patched leader-warrior sat down, his shoulders slouching, and his head falling forward. A sigh slipped from him. Echokit's face lingered in his mind. Guilt washed over his heart. BrookClan had never really mourned her death properly. After she'd died, they had only become even more adamant about protecting and caring for her still-living siblings. Swiftclaw had never really allowed himself to think about her. And now he regretted it. Had she found any cats there to greet her when she woke to the world of the dead? Or had she wandered for moons before stumbling upon her grandfather?

Realization ran cold through him. Swiftstar had left with the ancestors of the other clans. If the dead BrookClan leader could reach the dreams of his living descendants once more, that meant...

Swiftclaw's eyes narrowed. It meant they were a lot closer to their new home than he had expected.

[EL FIN]

[swiftclaw]

i finished eeet!

[starclan]

ACCEPTED as leader of brookclan