Life Goes On ((Closed Patrol))

Ashstar was tired. So tired. But she had duties to perform. Such as training her newest apprentice, Slatepaw. Hopefully, being active and helping the young tom learn would help her forget the latest horrible occurrences. The sun was already up as the leader maneuvered her way into the apprentices' den. "Slatepaw? Time for training," she called out quietly, spring green eyes searching for the gray and white fur of her apprentice.

The young tom's eyes shot open at the Windclan leader's call. His muscles were still tight with the memory of sleep. Slatepaw stood up and stretched out, trying to fully regain consciousness. Ever since his younger siblings had been born, the nursery had been cramped and he had gotten little sleep. After the apprentice's ceremony, the grey and white apprentice had felt like he could sleep for a whole moon. But, sadly, he was awoken by his mentor. Light green eyes blinked at the sunlight that streamed through the den entrance. In front of him stood the older grey she-cat. His leader and grandmother. The same grandmother who had stripped his father of his deputy title.

A brief moment of discomfort coursed through the tom. The memory had awoken his sleep cursed brain. Slatepaw was far to young to know of the sins of his father; all he saw was that a good warrior had been pushed out of his position. There was a brief flash of anger towards his new mentor, but the tom said nothing. He pushed it away. There was training to be done. Once he had fully stretched out his weary muscles, the apprentice headed for the den entrance. His tail flicked in anticipation. Slatepaw planned on becoming a great Windclan warrior like his father; this was only day one.

"Good morning, Ashstar," He meowed politely with a dip of his head, careful to keep any potential bitterness out of his words, "I'm ready."

Ashstar gave an internal sigh at the distant, carefully controlled politeness in the tom's eyes. What had his father told him? She shook it off and gave her apprentice a slight nod back. "Morning, Slatepaw," she responded. "We'll be patrolling the RiverClan border today, and hopefully we'll be back by sunhigh in time for some training, alright?" The gray she-cat started going out the entrance, swishing her long, fluffy tail at her apprentice, beckoning him to follow. As they slowly meandered towards the gorge, the border between WindClan and their enemy Clan, Ashstar spoke up. "Do you... have any questions, Slatepaw?" At this point usually she would ask her apprentice what he knew about the fishing Clan, but she wanted to get whatever was bothering her grandkit off his chest.

The young tom padded after his leader out of the camp for the first time. Outside, the moors stretched across the horizon and seemed almost endless. A delighted purr rumbled in his chest briefly. He was seeing his clan's territory for the first time; it was fantastic. Slatepaw had been too entranced with the new sights to fully tune into her words. However, he was able to get the gist of it. They would be heading towards Riverclan. Stories of their enemy clan raiding the camp far before he was born ran through his head. His small claws dug into the earth below. It took a second for him to realize he didn't know any battle moves yet. Thoughts of boldly attacking a Riverclan warrior flew from his head and he tuned in just in time to hear Ashstar's question.

Slatepaw shot her a blank look. Questions? He was sensible to notice there was an underlined tone to her words, but missed whatever she was referring to. It did occur to him that she may have noticed his slight hints of disdain towards her. But the tom refused to speak about that. This was simply time for them to train. His feelings towards his grandmother's actions were not important right now. Slatepaw shook his head lightly and replied with a flat tone, "No. We can keep going."

Ashstar nodded, not believing him. The tom definitely had questions, but she would respect his wishes. If he didn't want to ask yet, he didn't have to. The questions would surface eventually, she just had to wait. Meanwhile, it would remain a barrier between her and her grandkit. They fell into a temporary silence, walking side by side through the territory as the fishy scent grew stronger and the familiar scent of moor grasses faded away. The leader decided to continue the conversation, slipping back into the more traditional role of a mentor. "Tell me what you know about RiverClan, Slatepaw." It was good to know about your enemies- well, hopefully not as hostile since her recent decisions. What has Smokepelt told him about them?

The silence didn't bother him too much. As they walked, the young tom enjoyed taking in the sight's of his territory. His chest puffed out a bit with pride and he stood a bit straighter the longer the padded along. Soon, they had reached the border. Slatepaw's nose wrinkled up as the smell of fish wreathed around them. It was certainly unpleasant to say the least. He resisted the urge to spit in disgust. Instead, his simply flicked his tail with a mild irritation. He cocked his head and looked up at Ashstar. Having no prior experience with fish, there was no name he could put to the strange smell. However, before he could ask, the leader had posed a question of her own. There was a glint in his eye as she asked about his Riverclan knowledge. This was something he certainly had an answer to.

"They're fish eaters," He started, stating it as an insult, but avoiding the intentional bit. Riverclan cats weren't worth wasting his energy. His eyes cast an eager glance over the borders. Sadly, there were no other cats in sight. A mild aggravation caused his pelt to twitch. Another time, The apprentice vowed silently. Riverclan cats needed to be shown their place. After a moment, Slatepaw remembered his leader's question, "They swim like fish too." The though only caused him to frown slightly. Wet fur was uncomfortable. Yet another reason he was thankful to not be in Riverclan.

Ashstar blinked at his abrupt and almost hostile answer. She was no fan of RiverClan either, but she had past experience with them. Was this just more of Smokepelt's prejudices drilled into his son? However, she nodded at the answers he did give. "They are the only Clan that swim and eat fish. I personally don't understand how they could possibly bear being wet, but to each Clan their own." She checked the border carefully for any approaching RiverClan patrols, wanting to avoid trouble. It seemed that none were coming, but the RiverClan side of the border hadn't been marked lately, and one could never be too careful. This time, her caution payed off; no sooner had she begun to show Slatepaw how and where to mark their border than a small RiverClan patrol passed by on the other side.

Shellwater trotted through the RiverClan piece of forest, taking in all the sights, sounds and smells of newleaf. Birds sang in the sparse trees, music growing fainter as they neared the WindClan border. "Come on, Weaselpaw, hurry up!" she called behind her, moving at a fast pace. Tawnystorm had convinced her to keep her energetic son out of her pelt for a few hours- StarClan knew that was how she had been with Sparkwillow sometimes- but she was starting to regret taking him on a border patrol. The tom seemed easily distractable, drawn to every drifting leaf or skittering squirrel that crossed their path. He'd even stopped to look at flowers once. And as much as she loved the new season, Weaselpaw's small attention span was killing her. As she stopped by the WindClan border to wait for the tom, her calico pelt bristled as a small patrol passed by on the other side. The leader Ashstar herself and a cat who seemed to be her apprentice. She halted, not saying anything, burnished orange eyes glaring at the gray leader's green ones as if to blame her for her scars, all the pain she has suffered. She didn't say a word- couldn't- but her cold gaze said enough. She completely forgot about Weaselpaw until he ran up.

Slatepaw was thoroughly engrossed in learning how to properly mark the borders. It was important to make sure they were well-defined so that Riverclan cats would have no excuse for crossing the border. Due to his intense focus on the current task, it took a moment for the tom to realize there were cats approaching. He turned to ask Ashstar a question, only to glance up and see the shape of cats across the border. Instantly a harsh snarl began to rumble in his throat. The apprentice's claws were out in a heartbeat. Given it was their first day of train, he had no real moves prepared to use on the approaching pair. However, Slatepaw was ready to attempt to copy fighting moves he'd seen before. It wouldn't take much skill to take down a Riverclan cat; all he needed was his own strength and determination. Smokepelt would expect him to at least attempt to keep those fish brains away from Windclan territory.

"You fish-eaters better learn your place!" He hissed loudly, tail lashing behind in hostility. The apprentice had already crouched down as if prepared to leap at any second. His claws scored the earth below in anticipation. If they got any closer, Slatepaw would be prepared. While he was around, no Riverclan cat would ever even be allowed near the border.

At Shellwater's call, Weaselpaw snapped back into attention and bounded forwards. No matter how many times they had left camp, he found it just as exciting as the last. The bountiful scents, sights and sounds never ceased to amaze the tabby tom. It was his favorite thing ever to explore it with his parents. However, Tawnystorm had sent him out with Shellwater today. The queen never took as much time to look at things and simply wanted to keep moving along. It bothered him a bit, but she was nice and he still loved her despite it. He was rushing forwards when the she-cat froze. He hadn't noticed the Windclan cats. He hadn't heard Slatepaw's threat from so far away. When he tried to skid to a stop, it failed. Weaselpaw's bulky frame landed in an ungraceful mess. Just over the border.

There wasn't anytime for him to be stopped. Slatepaw lashed out instantly. While still young, his claws were sharp and the determination behind them only added to the momentum. It was evident the lack of skill the young tom possessed. Yet he still managed to score Weaselpaw's tabby fur a few times before leaping back to snarl at him, "I just told you! That was your warning!" Thankfully his first Riverclan opponent had been an apprentice. While there wasn't  much damage other than a few clawmarks, Slatepaw felt satisfaction creep into his chest. He had defended the territory from Riverclan. His father would be proud.

For once, Weaselpaw was shocked into silence. He had never really felt pain before and now the claws marks of another apprentice seared his pelt. Confusion and shock overwhelmed the usually cheerful tom. He looked up at Slatepaw with pleading green eyes for a brief moment, but the Windclan cat missed it. It took a few moments for him to realize what had happened. I crossed the border! When Slatepaw finally let up, Weaselpaw crawled a mouselength backwards into the safety of his own territory. Too overwhelmed to speak, he waited for Shellwater to come along side him. Stinging marks dotted his fur and the discomfort made him want to raced back to camp and beg the medicine cat for herbs to dilute the pain. Despite it not being all that bad, Tawnystorm's kit had never felt the pain of another's claws until now. Apparently, there were a few bad things in the world.

OCC: crappy post :p but its done

Shellwater let out a horrified screech as Weaselpaw stumbled across the border. Quick as a flash, the gray and white WindClan tom was on top of him, viciously clawing his pelt. He'd done nothing wrong! Is this what they were training their apprentices to do now? Maul RiverClanners on sight? As the poor brown tabby tom limped the mouse-length back onto the territory, pelt bleeding in various places, the experienced warrior rushed over to him to make sure he was all right. Once she determined that it was only a few scratches that wouldn't scar over like hers had, she turned back to the WindClanner, orange eyes burning with fury. "How dare you?" she snarled at him, hackles raised, Ashstar's presence forgotten. "How dare you! Weaselpaw didn't do anything! It wasn't his fault he accidentally fell over the border! What is wrong with you WindClan cats?! Where do you think my scars came from? Your Clanmate, Lionfur, when I was just an apprentice, attacked me after he crossed the border, ruining my pelt, my face, and my life. And now, you think to do the same to Weaselpaw? Lucky for you, his injuries weren't serious. But you... you'll be scarred for life!" The enraged calico she-cat leapt over the border onto the gray and white tom, claws sinking deep into his pelt and drawing blood, striking him down across the moor grass. She was determined to give this tom a beating he would never forget. Finally, WindClan would taste justice when one of their own apprentices was maimed!

Ashstar was prepared to open her mouth and speak words to the she-cat that appeared- Shellwater, she recalled from Fishstar's angry words- until Slatepaw spoke up, words dripping with hostility, claws out and hackles raised. He truly is his father's son. Before the leader could say a word, the RiverClan apprentice had fallen over the border and her apprentice set upon him savagely, untrained claws hitting their marks better than she would have thought. She watched in horror as the furious RiverClan she-cat yelled angry, accusing words at her grandkit before keeping across the border to attack him. Finally finding her words, angry at both the calico she-cat and the gray and white tom, she strode up to them.

"Stop," she shouted, spring green eyes burning. The fluffy gray she-cat dragged her apprentice away from Shellwater by the scruff of his neck. "That was extremely inappropriate, Slatepaw. Violence is not the only answer when another cat makes a mistake, despite whatever your father says. I am very disappointed in you; I see I still have much to teach." Now Ashstar turned to the RiverClan warrior, eyes softening with sympathy. She had obviously been through a lot since the traitorous tom Lionfur had attacked her, and she felt sorry for the apprentice- probably her apprentice- as well. "I apologize for Slatepaw's behavior," she meowed truthfully. "I hope Weaselpaw is okay. I could take him back to camp with us, find some herbs- I'm sure Beetlewing could-"

"No." Shellwater's curt voice cut across the WindClan leader's. "I think you've done plenty." Having gotten up, the calico she-cat brushed coldly past both gray cats and back onto the RiverClan border. She nudged Weaselpaw tentatively with her nose before helping him onto his paws. "Come on, Weaselpaw. Let's get back to camp. I'm sure Cloudstone and Bouncepaw gave plenty of herbs for you, don't worry. And on the way back, we can stop at that patch of lilies by the river. You can wash off your cuts, and get a flower for Tawnystorm. Would you like that? Come on." Helping the apprentice limp back across RiverClan territory, the scarred warrior sent one last reproachful orange glare to the two WindClanners. She wouldn't bother telling Fishstar, but the grudge she harbored against the rabbit-chasing clan only festered further in her injured heart.

Weaselpaw got tentatively to his feet, slowed more from shock than any wounds. Confusion still fogged his brain. What did I do? Why does that cat hate me? I didn't mean too... His parents would be so angry with him. The tabby's usual joyful attitude was temporarily soured by the whole instance. He frowned, inching further into Riverclan territory. Uncertain eyes kept glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Slatepaw was still on the ground. He barely noticed Shellwater's attack on the other apprentice, but when he saw the gray and white tom snarling from the ground, he knew what had happened. It sent a shudder down his spine. For once in his life, all of the color of the world was drained away into grey and white.

When the Riverclan queen spoke his head snapped up to focus on her. He managed a weak smile, attempting to focus on all of the positive things around them. The variety of stings still caused the smile to falter. What is this? Weaselpaw longed for all of the dark clouds to go away, he wanted the sunlight once more. But the mention of his mother made him attempt to perk up anyways. Soon they would be back in the safety of camp. And Tawnystorm would love those lilies. He had thought about that on the way here. Once they were out of earshot of the other cats, he meowed, "That sounds like a great idea." He forced a bit of enthusiasm into the words, but the strange feeling in his pelt still made him shiver softly.

Roars of rage broke from the young apprentice's throat as Shellwater lashed out at him. He was knocked to the ground instantly. His weak attempt to fight back was no match for the much more skilled fighter. Instead he was forced to take the hits until Ashstar dragged him back. The two she-cats exchanged words briefly as he pressed himself to the ground with flat ears and bared teeth. Tail lashing angrily, Slatepaw longed to yowl at the Riverclan cats once more. They crossed the border! Why am I the one in trouble? The intensity in his leader's eyes had confused and frustrated him. The fact she was upset with him caused him to feel a quick prickle of self-doubt underneath all of the anger.

When the Riverclan cats had retreated across the border, Slatepaw instantly launched into a protest, "Ashstar, they crossed the border! I was just defending our clan!" There wasn't as much venom in his words as he had wanted. Despite the feelings of distaste he had towards his grandmother, he still respected her as a leader. Underneath her gaze and her anger, the young tom felt so small. Slatepaw didn't move from his place on the ground, belly pressed firmly against the moorland earth. He crouched defensively looking up at her with almost innocent eyes that attempted to be steely. He was simply a confused kit, trying to mimic the warrior he looked up too. But now he had disappointed the leader. And he wasn't sure what to think.

Ashstar sighed, her tone patient and explanatory, but still full of disappointment and slight frustration. Her well-hidden anger didn't even break the surface, staying safe in her heart where most of her emotions did these days. "Slatepaw, if those two cats had crossed the border intentionally, marked the borders too far, or attempted to break the code in any other way, I would have fought right alongside you. But the tom was only an apprentice, and falling onto the border was an accident for him. If you had crossed the border accidentally, wouldn't you want mercy extended to you?" The leader sat next to her apprentice, looking at him carefully. "Violence should never be the first answer. That is where Fishstar and her cats went wrong when they attacked WindClan, where Smokepelt went wrong when he attacked Frogpaw, where you went wrong. Always try to talk things out first. As a leader, if I went around attacking every cat who made a mistake or insulted me, how far would that get me? A leader cannot do that, and neither should a warrior or apprentice. WindClan is better than that. RiverClan may not follow that philosophy, but its the best way to keep a Clan together and avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Do you understand, Slatepaw?" Please, let there be more of his mother in him than his father. Don't let him follow Smokepelt's footsteps. Please, StarClan, guide him on the path his father should have taken.