Stone Fish [closed/solo]

Marshpaw stared down at the stone he’d placed in the little ditch he’d dug. Being in RiverClan territory, he had wanted to try fishing, but he didn’t want to go out on patrol with some RiverClanners and completely embarrass himself, so he’d decided to make his own little practice river right near camp, complete with stone fish. It had taken him a while to choose a spot; he wanted to stay close enough to camp that he wouldn’t get into too much trouble for being there alone, but he also didn’t want everyone to see what he was doing and judge his fishing “skills”-- not until he’d practiced!

He looked down at his “prey”, getting ready to strike. He crouched down, pausing for a moment to try and decide how exactly one was supposed to catch a fish. Did you swipe at it? Dunk your face in the water and grab it? Maybe they tackled it, and with their awesome swimming skills swam back up on shore with it still in their paws? Marshpaw decided, for some reason, that it was probably that last one, and fully lunged at his practice fish, holding it close to him with his paws and then attempting to “swim” out of the ditch he’d made.

“Um…” a voice said somewhere behind Marshpaw, its tone an odd mix of concern and relief, “What...what are you doing?”


Marshpaw stopped his struggle with the rock and looked up, meeting the gaze of a black and red tom.

Adderpaw stared at the young ShadowClan apprentice below him, hugging a stone and lying in a ditch. He’d noticed the tom making his way to the outskirts of camp and had been concerned that he was going off to report back to that “StagClan” group or something of the like. He was, admittedly, relieved that he was doing...whatever this was...and not spying, but...what was he doing? Normally, Adderpaw wouldn’t engage with a stranger, but-- the scene in front of him completely baffled him.

“Um…” he started, “What...what are you doing?”

The younger tom stopped whatever he was trying to do and looked up at him, clearly startled.

“I’m, uh...practicing fishing,” the ShadowClanner responded sheepishly, dropping his stone and sitting up. “I wanted to get some experience with the technique in case I got to go with any actual patrols,”


Adderpaw’s whiskers twitched in amusement, but he held back his laugh, not wanting to hurt the other cat’s feelings. That was how he thought they fished?

“Ah, well-- that’s not quite how we do it,” he informed the tom. Normally, he’d just leave, but the ShadowClanner’s interesting strategy had managed to amuse him enough to take his mind off his usual worries, if only for a moment. He figured he might as well show the other cat a more proper form, and then leave right after.

“Here,” he moved to the make-shift bank, and re-adjusted the stone, which he assumed was the practice fish. “It’s more like this,” he showed the fluffy white tom the normal motion one used to catch a fish.

“Ohhh…” Marshpaw said, watching the RiverClanner. “That makes more sense,” He dipped his head. “Thanks,”

“Yeah, no...no problem…” The rusting black tom responded, and made a move to leave.

“Hey, uh, I’m Marshpaw, by the way!” Marshpaw called after him. He hadn’t talked to a lot of the RiverClanners, even though he’d wanted to, and he hoped maybe this was his chance.

The tom turned his head back to look at Marshpaw.

“I’m Adderpaw,” he said in a deeply neutral tone. “It’s nice to meet you,”

“Nice to meet you, too!” Marshpaw said happily, immediately assuming the tom had decided to stay and chat. “I really like your camp! And fish is better than I thought it would be,”

“Thanks?” Adderpaw responded. “I’m, uh…glad you like it?”

“I do! And I’m really grateful that your clan has taken us in. It’s...hard having been thrown out of our home like that, but, y’know, I try to see it like-- like, wow, I get to explore another clan’s territory, see what life is like for them! That’s not something you get to do everyday, right? So I’m trying to stay excited, instead of sad…”

“That’s...admirable,” Adderpaw said, not really sure how to respond to the talkative tom. “I’m not sure I’d be able to stay so positive if the same thing happened to me,”

Marshpaw shrugged. “I just figure there’s no use just sitting around feeling bad about it. That won’t make it better, right? I’d rather do things to help my clan,” Marshpaw puffed his chest out with pride, as if he had already done something that would save them instead of just catching stone fish.

Adderpaw nodded, still not sure how to handle this conversation. “That’s great,” he said. He paused. He hadn’t been at the last gathering, so he wasn’t totally informed about what was going on with the whole “StagClan” business, and he was, admittedly, curious about what one of the cats who had remained with ShadowClan thought of the whole ordeal. Besides that...Adderpaw was determined to make sure he was always as aware as possible of all the major threats around him.


“I...I have to ask,” he started, a little hesitant. “How do you feel about the whole ‘StagClan’ thing? I mean, obviously, I’m sure you’re at least a little upset having been driven from your home, but-- I mean, what do you really feel about them? Angry? Hateful? Regretful? ...Sorry?”


“Huh,” Marshpaw said, in some kind of thought, “I haven’t really thought about it much, honestly. I don’t hate them. I don’t think they’re necessarily bad cats. I think they believe what they’re saying and all, and that they have good intentions,”

“Well, if you think their intentions are good...why did you come here? Why didn’t you choose to stay and join them? It certainly seems like the smarter choice right now, considering they reside in your camp and you’re all refugees. If you have no qualms with their opinion...why not stay?”

“Well, everyone I’m close to is here,” Marshpaw responded, as if it were an obvious answer. “My parents, my friends, my mentor. And besides, even if I think they make some degree of sense, doesn’t mean I’d just outright betray my leader and my clan, y’know?”


“Right,” Adderpaw said. He liked to think he’d make a decision along the same logic, but part of him knew he’d probably choose whatever he thought was least likely to get him killed or hurt. And maybe that would be loyalty, who knows. Either way, he was glad he hadn’t been the one to make that choice. “I think...I think I’d hate them, though, if they’d forced me from my home. Or at least, I’d be angrier than you are,”

Marshpaw shrugged. “I am angry,”


“You don’t seem angry,” Adderpaw remarked.

“I know,” Marshpaw said, a little embarrassed, “My mom told me once that I’m too nice to ever really get angry, and when I try I just seem silly. So I don’t try. Even if deep down it’s how I feel,”

Adderpaw looked at the other apprentice carefully. It was an interesting answer to him, one both expected and unexpected. Expected, in that to him Marshpaw’s statement was a general fact; Adderpaw knew everyone must hide their real, ugly responses. No one was ever really candid with their thoughts. That was one of the many reasons you couldn’t ever trust their responses or motivations. And yet...what Marshpaw had said was a fairly candid response, wasn’t it? Adderpaw shifted uncomfortably while contemplating the contradiction.


Just because one cat said something honest one time doesn’t mean it’s typical behavior. Especially considering Marshpaw seems a little bit...um...oblivious? Maybe he’s just unusually unguarded.

Adderpaw suddenly felt tired. The interaction had worn him out.

“Hey, I should get back to camp,” he said, then hesitantly added “We, uh, we probably both should,” hoping that there would not be more small talk during the short walk back into the main area of camp.

“Oh, you’re probably right,” Marshpaw responded. “It was nice talking to you, Adderpaw!”

“Yeah,” Adderpaw responded a little sadly, “It was nice talking to you, too”