Dreaming of Darkness [OPEN]

[Jay]

An eerie breeze blew through the air, shaking the many leaves on the trees. Stormstar's amber eyes glanced around his surroundings, searching for prey. He had decided to leave his warm den to go out on an early morning hunting expedition. It wasn't going as well as he planned it to. It seemed as if all of the prey were safely huddled in their dens, away from the coldness of Leafbare, which was definitely the hardest time for hunting. Almost every Leafbare, kits and elders die from diseases that not even the most skilled medicine cat could cure. Even Stormstar had lost a life from Greencough, many moons ago in a chilly Leafbare. It was amazing how a little cold could kill such a strong leader, but luckily all leaders were given nine lives, and Stormstar had many more left. Trudging through the snow, the leader caught the scent of a mouse. Pricking his ears in alert, he followed the warm, delicious scent of prey. On and on he walked, until he could no longer see anything. Thousands of little snowflakes fell down from the cloudy sky, covering every inch of the pine forest. It was impossible to hunt in this weather, and Stormstar was forced to give up. He was starving, but there was a little to no chance that he could find a little mouse in a huge snowstorm. Tail drooping and stomach rumbling, he started the long trek back to camp. Stormstar entered the camp completely unnoticed; no one was around to see him freezing cold and covered with melting snow. Once he reached his warm den, he fell down into the clean moss, completely exhausted after his hunting trip. Tall pine trees covered the ground, stretching up into the endless midnight sky. There was no sound, no bird song, nothing. There wasn’t a trace of any living animal. Stormstar was completely alone in this dark forest. Abruptly, the dark tom woke up. He sat up quickly, his head spinning as he glanced around the den. He knew where he was in his dream. It was the Place of No Stars, otherwise none as the Dark Forest. When he was a kit, Stormstar was told that all cats that didn’t deserve to be in Starclan were put in the Dark Forest, an endless place full of darkness, where no stars shone in the midnight sky. Maybe Starclan were trying to scare him into being a nice kitty. Hah, like that will happen! he thought silently, rolling his eyes. Starclan cats were a bunch of weak, powerless fools. They tricked and lied to the living clan cats, pretending that they were so powerful and strong. It was all a lie though, Stormstar knew better than to believe them. He wasn’t a stupid, gullible kit anymore. Now he was the leader of Nightclan, earning his position through murder and lies. If Starclan were so powerful, why didn’t they stop them when he sunk his teeth into the deputy’s neck? Or how about when he killed his own father? If they were as powerful as they said they were, they could have stopped all that. But they didn’t, making them as weak as a newborn kit. Clearing his thoughts, Stormstar took a glance outside. The sun was now high in the sky, and it had finally stopped snowing. He was starving now; maybe there would be prey on the Fresh-Kill pile. Stomach rumbling, the tom stalked out of his den and into the camp, hopefully looking around for some fresh prey. [bg=444825][atrb=border,0,true]

[**Burn**]

{{Rootclaw

DARKNESS crawled at the edges of Rootclaw's vision. The lanky brown tom crouched in the center of a small clearing, grass waving gently under his paws and tickling his short-furred sides. All around him, hills rose and the wind whispered. Trees filled with leaves rustled gently at the night's caress. Vast expanses of stars blossomed in the sky overhead, the deep blue of it drawing in the green gaze of the medicine cat. From where he crouched, Rootclaw cloud see no one. The place he crouched in was familiar so, he felt no fear in his lonesomeness. At least, he hadn't until the wind stopped. The trees and grass went still. The grass dried up and became uncomfortably prickly. Turning his gaze skyward, Rootclaw found the stars winking out one by one, going dark and leaving only a black void overhead. A creeping cold crawled through Rootclaw's fur, sank through his skin into his bones...

WITH a jerk and a gasp, the dark brown tom was hurled out of his dream. Green eyes snapped open to see the small medicine cat den he had inhabited in since being apprenticed to Halfear so many moons ago. Sides heaving as he gasped to catch his breath, Rootclaw stumbled out of his mossy nest, embracing the cold of leafbare because it chased away the fog of his dream. This cold was so much nicer than the bone-deep cold he had felt in the dream. Sighing softly after a moment, the tall tom gave his head a small shake and looked around. His little clearing was empty but somewhere out in the clearing he could hear someone moving about. The sun was high overhead, its cold sunlight doing little to warm the thin-furred tom. Time to get moving.

STRETCHING, Rootclaw padded toward the main clearing of the camp. His paws left delicate little prints in the white snow, a new layer of which the night had left upon the lands of Nightclan. The sight made Rootclaw twitch his tail in worry. Much more snow and the clan would be struggling for prey even worse than normal. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Starvation brought out the worst in greencough and fevers. Thankful for the moment that the clan nursery was empty of vulnerable kits, Rootclaw came into the clearing and looked around.

HIS steps paused when he caught sight of who else was occupying the clearing. Stormstar.

PADDING toward the dark-furred leader, Rootclaw dipped his head as he approached the fresh-kill pile. "Greetings Stormstar, I hope you're well?"

[Jay]

With a swish of his tail, Stomstar gazed hungrily at the place where the Fresh-Kill pile would be. It was empty, not a piece of prey was on it. He hardly heard Rootclaw walk up to him, and he started when he heard the medicine cat’s voice right by his ear. Rootclaw never really bothered him; he seemed like a well-trained medicine cat. But Stormstar rarely trusted anyone, not even the medicine cat. He seemed to quiet and, well, nice to be in Nightclan, which was the clan everyone feared. Rootclaw wouldn’t frighten any of his enemies, but then again, he wasn’t a warrior. And he was a good medicine cat; Stormstar would have to let him live in Nightclan a little while longer. As for the question, Stomstar was definitely not ‘well’. Every night he was haunted by visions and dreams of his past and future. He had many flashbacks about his ambitious plans back when he was a mere warrior. His dreams were full of shadows and whispering voices, calling for him. The sky was always empty in his dark dream world, with no bright stars in the sky. Waking up was as confusing as the dreams; he sometimes even saw echoes of the nightmares. One time after a frightening dream of The Dark Forest, he saw the dark figure of a cat, who he did not recognize. But it was gone a moment later, leaving Stormstar confused and startled. Was he slowly going crazy? Stormstar knew Starclan were real, but he also knew they had no power over him. Maybe now, after all these moons they were finally trying to punish him? Not physical punishment, not pain, but with nightmares of everlasting darkness. But Stormstar wasn’t a weak newborn kit; he wouldn’t give in to their taunting. He would remain strong, without a fear of the darkness, or at least he would try. And while he was doing so, he would tell nobody. He would remain independent, keeping secrets from everyone in the clan, because that was what he was best at. Starclan would not win. “I’m alright.” he lied easily, taking his amber eyes off of the empty Fresh-Kill pile to look at Rootclaw. “I was just about to order a hunting patrol.” [bg=444825][atrb=border,0,true]

[**Burn**]

ROOTCLAW'S dark brown ears flicked as he saw surprise flicker through the amber gaze of the Nightclan leader. He could remember when leadership hadn't been under Stormstar. Things had been different then. Back then he had been on his way to being a warrior, training under Raggedpelt and completely ignoring the medicinal side of Starclan's plans. In those days, he had never pondered the path of a medicine cat, never even looked twice at old Halfear. Oh how quickly things had changed. Back then he was an agile, swift hunter. Now no one would bother thinking of him as threatening. He knew he didn't strike a frightening image, he was skinny and long-limbed, far from the muscular intimidating figure that Stormstar struck. The problem was, that didn't bother Rootclaw in the slightest. At one time, it might have, but these days he was content with his less aggressive role in Nightclan. Maybe that was why Rootclaw had avoided Stormstar since he'd become the medicine cat? Stormstar was the opposite, intimidating and imposing with bright eyes that made Rootclaw feel nervous even though he had no reason for such a feeling.

LISTENING to the leader's words, the brown tom glanced at the non-existent fresh-kill pile. Yes, prey would be in short supply for many moons yet. Leafbare was young still and the worst had yet to come from the snowstorms and intense cold. Rootclaw's claws flexed in the snow as he regarded the empty pile. His herb stores would run down soon.

LOOKING at Stormstar, the medicine cat sat back on his narrow haunches. "That seems well advised. Before dusk I'll be out seeking more herbs, our stores are thin and the conditions are right for greencough. I admit unease this season, I worry for the clan."

THE dreams alone were enough to make Rootclaw uneasy. The last thing they needed was for an outbreak of greencough to become out of control. Even if it didn't start in Nightclan, it would be an easy disease to pick up at a Gathering or just from passing too close to clan borders. Again, the dark-pelted healer felt glad that the nursery was empty and silent, leaving kits out of the equation. Elders and warriors however, were still fair game. If Starclan was trying to warn Rootclaw about an outbreak with the bone-deep chill and darkness, he would be loath to ignore it. Halfear would have chopped off his tail before letting such a thing happen to the clan and the old tabby had trained Rootclaw well. He hated being unprepared. He had been unprepared when Amberkit was attacked and he would never let such a thing happen again while he had the power and ability to stop or prevent it. Of course, if Starclan willed it, he would be unable to stop it completely. At the very best he hoped to contain whatever the season would bring.

"IF I could borrow one of the clan warriors or perhaps an apprentice, my herb gathering would without a doubt be more successful," Rootclaw continued calmly, "also I may have to go as far as Twolegplace. I have yet to find a place where catmint grows so abundantly."

[Jay]

Leafbare was time of dark, chilly coldness. Snow covered the pine trees and every inch of Nightclan’s territory, yet Rootclaw wanted to go herb hunting in this weather. There wasn’t even any prey, so how could there be any herbs growing? The shortage of prey didn’t bother Stormstar at all. As long as he had food to eat every day, he was okay. He didn’t share his views with his clanmates though. He pretended that he cared about them, and that he would make sure to hunt some extra prey for the elders, but of course, he never did. Elders dying were the least of Stormstar’s worries. They were useless old fools that deserved to die. There was no point to their useless life, all they did was complain all day and night. The thought of prey sent a quiet, inaudible rumble in Stomstar’s stomach. He was starving, and he couldn’t get rid of Rootclaw so easily. To most of his clanmates he was kind, even sometimes thoughtful. He couldn’t just growl and tell the medicine cat to get lost; that would ruin his reputation. So, that couldn’t happen. Stormstar would have to think up of another way to get rid of him, without ruining his hard-earned reputation. But what did the medicine cat think of him? Did Rootclaw believe all of his lies, acting and stories? Maybe he was smarter than the clan, and could see through Stormstar. That would actually explain a lot, since the medicine cat rarely spoke to him. Or perhaps Rootclaw was just scared of him. Any cat could be, to them he might look intimidating and strong. And I am. he thought silently, betraying no emotion in his amber eyes or expression. Medicine cats were usually wiser than the average warrior, so it made sense if Rootclaw thought that way. But if, even for a second, Rootclaw found out about Stormstar’s true side, he would have to dispose of him, just like he had done to the former deputy and leader. It would be much harder than before; maybe instead of killing him, he could exile Rootclaw from the clan, making up a story about how he had broken the warrior code. “Surely herbs wouldn’t grow in Leafbare?” he finally answered the medicine cat, clearing his thoughts. “But, I wouldn’t know. You’re the medicine cat, you know best...” [bg=444825][atrb=border,0,true]

[**Burn**]

PART of Rootclaw wondered if Stormstar was deaf. With good reason, the leader wondered if herbs would grow in such deep snowfall. Normally such a question wouldn't bother the mild-mannered medicine cat. The problem was, he had already said he was going to go toward twolegplace. Perhaps he should make a note of checking the leader's hearing sometime? Brushing the light surge of impatience off as a side-effect of hunger and his poor sleep, Rootclaw kept his visage calm and relaxed. Rootclaw avoided mouthing off to warriors, leaders and deputies most of the time for the sole fact that he knew his clan was dangerous. Most Nightclan cats had sour tempers, sharp tongues and sharper claws. It was their ancient reputation after all. Rootclaw just happened to be one of the few mild in spirit and polite in word. If his clanmates had their anger riled, it would be hellfire to beat back and Stormstar was no exception.

"TWOLEGS keep plants growing throughout the year," Rootclaw meowed to the leader calmly. "I'm sure I'll be able to find something there. As I said, my stores are thin, elders and apprentices will need me to be prepared should greencough or whitecough set in before the thaw. If I leave now, I should return by sunhigh tomorrow. The warriors know my stores well enough to find poppy seeds or cobwebs should they be needed. Regardless, I thought it best to ask permission for such a journey since it will mean my absnece for more than just a few hours."

ROOTCLAW could clearly remember a time when Halfear had gone on such journeys, sometimes even into Sunclan territory to seek out herbs that didn't grow readily in Nightclan lands. Every time the old medicine cat had had to ask permission from a leader because the longer journeys left the clan vulnerable, though Rootclaw could also remember times when Halfear left even when the old leader said he couldn't. In those times, Halfear would leave Rootclaw in charge of things, though he didn't always know everything since he was only an apprentice. Rootclaw liked to think of those times as tests of his value, of his knowledge, to see if he could think on his feet and do what was best in the end. Still, this was slightly different, Rootclaw had no apprentice to leave in his stead. If he went, the clan would be without a medicine cat for at least a full day, more if he got waylaid by unknown events.

REGARDLESS of the danger however, medicine cats lived an odd life, half within and half outside of clan law and sometimes they had to go on instinct. There was no urgent dream telling Rootclaw to be prepared for an epidemic, but it never hurt to be prepared. If sickness was what his dark dreams promised, he would need to be ready for anything. A simple fever could rob an underfed apprentice of its life, a soiled rat bite stealing away fully grown warriors. Rootclaw was worried, though he wouldn't let Stormstar know quite yet, not until he knew what to be worried about. He just needed to be ready for something.

RISING, the lanky brown tom stretched for a moment before looking expectantly at Stormstar, green eyes as bright as leaves that wouldn't be seen until the thaw. In his eyes, it was easy to tell he'd go whether or not Stormstar gave him permission, he was simply saving them both a lot of trouble by pretending to ask first.

[Jay]

Stormstar was distracted, he was vaguely aware of the medicine cat talking, to him Rootclaw’s words sounded like a distant murmuring. He could only think about warm-blooded, delicious prey. He was clearly starving, yet the medicine cat failed to notice that. Stormstar felt as if he would soon faint from exhaustion and hunger; he couldn’t go on listening to the medicine cat all day. Why was he asking for permission to go out of camp, anyway? Rootclaw wasn’t a small kit or apprentice; he was perfectly capable of getting up and going out of camp for a while, to do medicine cat business. The other medicine cats of Nightclan never asked permission to go outside of camp, so why was Rootclaw? Maybe it was because he was as weak as a Sunclan cat, wanting to tell everyone where he was going all of the time, even if it wasn’t for that long. Stormstar couldn’t care less if the medicine cat left the camp, he wasn’t concerned at all. But he couldn’t just say, ‘Whatever, go ahead!’ That wouldn’t work out too well; it might cause same cats to notice his strange behavior. He would have to keep calm and normal, like a strong, caring leader. He could easily deceive anyone, but he still had a feeling that Rootclaw could see through his behavior. To his knowledge, the medicine cat hadn’t told anyone about the real Stormstar, and about how different he was than what they all thought. There was also no way that Rootclaw could have found about him killing the leader and deputy. Rootclaw couldn’t know, it was impossible! He was probably just a mere, useless kit in the nursery at the time, or perhaps he wasn’t even born. Stormstar didn’t know how old or young Rootclaw was, but there was no way he could have discovered his treacheries. Or was there? Perhaps Stormstar had left a little bit of evidence behind, like someof his long, gray fur snagged in a bramble thicket. Rootclaw could have found it, if he was alive at the time. But it all didn’t matter! Stormstar was probably just being paranoid. He had covered his trails and the evidence well. He was a master of deceiving and lying to others. No one in all of the clans had his skill. Why then, did part of Stormstar still feel troubled and anxious about it? It was simply impossible; there was no way he could have found out… Coming back to reality, Stormstar realized that Rootclaw had finally stopped speaking. Quickly regaining control of his emotions, thoughts and expressions, he replied. “You may go now, although it would be much easier and faster if you had an apprentice to help.” Stormstar watched Rootclaw through his amber eyes. He hoped the medicine cat would leave soon, to embark on his expedition to the Twolegplace. Then he would finally have peace and quiet in the early hours of the morning, and more importantly, he could hunt. [bg=444825][atrb=border,0,true]