Chapter 1: Rose With Thorns
Chapter Text
Firepaw breathed in the lush smell of the forest, its mystical, a warm gleam of sun passing through the tree leaves that swayed in the Sunhigh winds reassuring his every step as the soft grass cushioned his paws.
His ginger pelt bristled when a sound caught his ears, one of a crunching stick. His next breath was sharp, alarmed, and deep as he tried to make out who, or what, it was. His ears, perked, flinched. Should he say something?
He took a pawstep back, then another. Eyes narrowed as he scanned his surroundings. At another sound in the bushes, he darted himself around, only to be jumped by surprise from behind. He could feel the terrifying sensation of falling as he was shoved to the grass harshly from the weight of the other cat. The grass that once cushioned his feet, now solid and crushing.
“Ugh-!” he groaned in pain as his ears ringed from the force, stunned from suddenly being off balance. He blinked, blurry vision subsiding along with the annoying tingling in his ears, a sound that reminded him of his old collar.
A paw pushed into his face, keeping it held to the grass so he wouldn’t see the other figure, but didn’t unsheathe their claws.
“Well, kittypet, enjoying the dirt?” a sour voice filled his ears, one of familiarity. Her taunting voice didn’t make the deduction hard. Firepaw sighed, too dazed to be upset. He was just.. annoyed.
He blinked, “Your stealth was impressive, Sandpaw. I could barely tell where you were.” Almost instantly, he could feel the force on his face lighten as he heard the grass crunch onto her paws.
He’d stand as she got off, clearly a little surprised, but still brimming with false confidence. “Thank you, kittypet,” she grinned, though it didn’t feel genuine.
“You know you don’t have to act like that since your crush isn’t around,” the ginger tom caught eye contact with her long enough to notice her disgusted expression before breaking it to shake off the grass that had stuck to his coat.
“Dustpaw isn’t my crush, I’ll have you know. My taste in cats is more refined than that. Dustpaw would be a waste of my time, with him constantly following around Longtail like a duckling—“ she rolled her eyes, her pupils quick to widen. “Uh, forget I said that.”
At that, Firepaw looked up just in time to see a glimpse of a frown. Did she feel bad for saying that after Redtail?
He gave her a look. “Oh, right, well. Graypaw noticed you sneaking out and decided I’d be the best candidate to accompany you,” the sandy-furred she hummed with a hint of sarcasm.
Firepaw sighed, right. Graypaw had gotten moss bedding duty and the others were out training. His tail drooped, now knowing this wasn’t a temporary run in.
“Alright,” he nodded, deciding to get over it. “Let’s go then.” Her face brightened, seemingly glad to not be shooed off. Firepaw was quick to continue walking, Sandpaw catching up and matching his pace. Her head swerved around, observant.
“Where are we off to, kittypet?” Firepaw’s head turned to stare Sandpaw in the eyes, “why do you call me that?” His tone remained curious.
“Because you were a kittypet, I thought that’d be obvious,” her tone sounded condescending, she gave a smug smirk.
He’d frown, “right.. But I don’t call you kit because you were a kit, do I?”
She blinked, staring at him blankly. “Well.. I..never thought about it like that. I suppose you’re right, Firepaw.”
Firepaw breathed in quickly, this was the first time he’d heard her say his name. He glanced away at the grass and tree stumps, halting. “We’re here.”
The ginger tom looked forward blankly, breathing in calmly as he eyed Sunningrocks. He’d make his way to the slope before it dipped down, leaping down one step at a time as he heard Sandpaw follow behind.
“Why here?” Sandpaw was at it again with the questions, Firepaw staring at the stream ahead of them as he crouched down stealthily. “Hunting practice.”
He caught a glimpse of her as she crouched beside him, ears tilted with an almost.. upset look to her? He couldn’t figure out why the sandy apprentice had such an expression.
“Without your mentor, huh?” she mewed, jokingly. She obviously didn’t care, but a hint of curiosity lingered as to why. He had the leader as his mentor, after all. That was no small honor.
“We both know Bluestar is always busy.. All the other warriors end up taking me out anyways,” he looked away, making sure she couldn’t see his frown. Firepaw sighed.
Sandpaw remained quiet for a while, not commenting, leaving an awkward air. But, that was forgotten in an instant when their ears twitched at the sound of a rodent squeaking in the sand. Firepaw put a paw forward, but was halted when Sandpaw was suddenly ahead of him with her tail in his face, signaling for him to wait.
His fluffy ginger tail lashed in annoyance, did she really think he wasn’t capable too? Though, he remained compliant.
Sandpaw breathed in a quick breath, holding it as Firepaw watched her step forward. She took a swift side-glance back at Firepaw, holding her gaze on his for a moment before rearing her head back and pushing her mitts toward the mouse.
Silence was met between the two as the small wind pushed at their fur. The clouds rolled in the sky, and for a moment, darkness fell over their eyes, and in another instant, the light was back. Firepaw blinked, and suddenly Sandpaw was in his face with the mouse. “When did you—“
“Well, your fluffy mane glows in the sun like a sore toe so I thought I’d give you a paw,” she put her paw on his head, pushing his head back softly, snorting before going back beside him.
“Well?” their eyes met, and Firepaw got back on task. He crept forth, tail waving in the sand, waiting. When a chirp rang in his ears, they pinned back, pupils shooting in the direction of it for signs of the force.
A crow, leaping forward, pushed its talons into the stone. It’d peck at the stone, eyeing around. How was he meant to do this when he’d be spotted instantly by its watchful eyes? Maybe Sandpaw was right to doubt him..
He sighed, the thin grass wasn’t going to hide his shiny ginger coat much longer. His eyes narrowed, he looked around. Use your surroundings to your advantage, Firepaw. He reminded himself of Bluestar’s words.
His fur crept off his skin as he eyed the sky, the last place he looked. Of course.
Three. Two. One. Darkness.
When the light returned moments later, the crow’s throat was gripped tightly in his teeth. Sandpaw raised, “Did you want to keep hunting?”
Firepaw blinked at her. Was she not going to say anything? Well.. She didn’t owe him any type of praise, but it would have been nice to hear it from the older apprentice. The ginger shook his head, content.
“Staying out too long just means we’re more likely to get in trouble,” Firepaw replied blankly, Sandpaw nodding in agreement. Firepaw leapt up the first stone, looking back to see Sandpaw freshen a scent marker.
He gave her a look, only returning it with a smug grin as she jumped up beside him. They’d climb up, though at the last stone Firepaw would slip, almost falling back only to be stopped by a paw.
He’d swerve his head back, frightened gaze lightening as he looked at Sandpaw, who looked just as caught-off-guard, though said nothing. It was comforting to see the more experienced feline just as surprised.
They finished, beginning to make their way back. Stillness met them, as if they had both taken a silent vow and said nothing. It didn’t feel awkward, just like there was nothing left to say.
As they made it to the entrance, Firepaw could feel an overwhelming force hit his shoulder, plunging him into the bushes. His back hit the ground aggressively, a hiss crawling out his throat when he was silenced by the other apprentice’s paw over his maw, causing him to adjust himself.
He gave a curious look to his companion— it held the slightest hint of annoyance at her aggression —but, the golden cat eyed the entrance through the leaves that hid them, completely ignoring him. The ginger would crawl forward, following her attention. His pupils shrunk as they absorbed the scene; a patrol consisting of Tigerclaw, Whitestorm, and Ravenpaw. They were talking to Willowpelt and Runningwind, Willowpelt commenting how the guarding was a breeze, whilst Runningwind rolled his eyes with a huff, clearly not as ecstatic about being stuck at the entrance, though he still grins.
Some air escapes Sandpaw’s nose in amusement at Runningwind, Firepaw holding in a snicker at her reaction. Though, he had to agree it was rather amusing. Tigerclaw dips his head, heading down the tunnel into camp with his black and white apprentice, who seemed rather reluctant to follow at first, though Tigerclaw’s insistence dragged him down. Firepaw hadn’t noticed before, but it was quickly clear that he was tense now that his muscles relaxed. He could feel Sandpaw’s eyes on him as he did so, and he couldn't dare meet her gaze.
Whitestorm, who had stayed behind, noses the slender gray she-cat, who grins half-heartedly. The apprentice could understand.. at least he thought he could. He’d never met his littermates, and it felt like his heart squeezed in sadness when he saw her expression. Could she be feeling how he’d felt now that her brother was gone? Redtail’s death caused a silent tension in camp, one that was only growing like a storm.
Sandpaw prodded Firepaw lightly, his once subconsciously pinned ears perking as they were accompanied with a curious look. His saddened expression now vanished. She signaled with her tail to follow her, which he was quick to do, though not before taking one final glance back to see the fluffy white tom say his farewells and disappear into the entrance. The ginger let out a sigh before disappearing further into the forest’s foliage.
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“For being a kittypet before you don’t act like one,” Sandpaw poked at Firepaw now that they were out of earshot from the guards.
Firepaw gave her a side eye. “We’re on this again?” he’d somewhat grumble, hoping that’d be the end of it.
“Whatttt? Come on. You have to admit most kittypets are simpleminded, softies. Don’t act like you’re not different. You actually act like a clan-born cat,” she snickered.
“Sandpaw. You’re the one acting simpleminded right now. Can we just.. drop this?” Firepaw was now hissing.
The air felt like a murky swamp, tensions thick. The time for apologies quickly passed as Sandpaw fell speechless. Firepaw felt weirdly bad about it, but nothing could be said to recover it. The ginger could feel the she-cat’s gaze leave him, and boldly, he took a glance. She was looking away to her left, completely avoiding looking.
The silence was deafening.
They continued walking along, Firepaw looking straight ahead. This silence didn’t feel the same as the one before. It felt like there were many things left unsaid. Many regrets lingered in the air like a mist. He wished the quiet air wasn’t so unpleasant, it made him feel dreadfully awkward.
As they finally reached the secret entrance, Sandpaw paused. Firepaw looked at her expectantly, though his hopes were met with nothing as she dived in. He could feel his face retort angrily, Sandpaw was so full of herself.
Sandpaw quickly made her way smoothly into the clearing and went to greet Whitestorm as if she hadn’t even left in the first place. She was greeted with a warm smile from the white tom, one Firepaw felt was undeserved. He sighed, pawing at his cheek. The ginger waited a while, sneaking around the outskirts in the foliage before going out toward where Yellowfang was staying, dropping the crow in front of her.
She eyed it, narrowing her eyes. “Good enough,” the unkempt she-cat grumbled, taking a bite into the crow and spitting out the feathers. “Birds are really impractical to eat, don’t you think?”
Firepaw blinked, surprised she wanted small talk. “Graypaw doesn’t like them either, I can see why,” Firepaw comments after having seen firstpaw his true distaste for them.
The conversation falls silent for a moment. “How did you catch this at Sunningrocks in this weather? It’s rather sunny, I’m surprised your coat didn’t give you away.” The older she-cat raised her brow as Firepaw was caught off guard. He wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Well..” he began, trying to quickly think of an excuse. Sure, he was allowed to hunt alone, but at Sunningrocks? Bluestar would have his head for going there alone after the repeated skirmishes there. Had he been caught..
“I’m old, not dense, young apprentice,” her yellow tooth trembled as she growled, though her tone remained rather neutral. Firepaw sighed. Yellowfang wouldn’t tell any cat by any means, but she was still a wild card at times.
“Sandpaw taught me a new trick, using the clouds masking the sunlight to my advantage,” his tail lashed as he thought about using that… that.. she-cat’s tactics.
“Hm. I thought you and that golden she-cat didn’t get along. She’s temperamental. Reminds me of an old friend..” Although Firepaw was curious on who Yellowfang was referring to, he shrugged it off, focusing on what she thought of Sandpaw. “Yeah..”
The small ginger held his tongue. Once he dipped his head in farewell, he’d make his way toward Graypaw and Ravenpaw who chatted idly in the clearing. He tried focusing on their conversation, but was lost in his own thoughts. Though, he was quickly thrown out of that.
“Sorry,” Graypaw mewed awkwardly, the apprentice already knew what his friend was apologizing for.
“It’s fine.. thanks. I’m glad you cared,” Firepaw grinned, Ravenpaw giving a confused look. Graypaw nosed in the direction of where Sandpaw was, “Someone snuck out for extra training so I asked Sandpaw to go with him since I got stuck doing chores then training.”
“Oh..” Ravenpaw seemed unsure of how to react. “I didn’t think of you as a cat to sneak out. But.. It was for good reasons. Sorry you had to deal with Sandpaw..” the bi-colored tom apologized despite having no weight in the situation.
Firepaw’s ears pinned, taking a quick glance to where Graypaw pointed. Firepaw’s stomach churned, both with jealousy at Graypaw always being busy with his mentor, and at Sandpaw.
It felt like they were in different worlds once again, a blink in time.
Chapter 2: Bitterness That Needs Quelling
Summary:
Conflict continues stirring between Sandpaw and Fireheart as his vigil strikes and he’s forced into silence in order to respect tradition.
Chapter Text
“Fireheart! Fireheart!” The scene unfolded like a dream, every sound molding into one as he tried to focus on one single thing. They were chanting so loud.. all for him and Graystripe?
His ears scream with annoyance, ringing, and the only cat he can focus on is.. Tigerclaw, as he sits atop the Highrock like a king.
The sepia mackerel tabby eyed him with his dagger-like amber eyes. His many scars had two meanings. To most, they were a sign he was brave: a true warrior. To those who knew the real him.. they were trophies he wore for the innocent cats he murdered.
Fireheart was a warrior now. Yet the ginger didn’t feel like he’d won. It felt bitter. Lionheart should be there, not him. Ravenpaw and Redtail.. would still be here, too.
Once the chants had died down and cats went their separate ways, Fireheart was reminded of his new task as a newly made warrior. His silent vigil with his dear friend. He wished it could’ve been with Ravenpaw, too, but this would have to do. He’d miss his tuxedo companion.
“Well done today, Fireheart. You’ve earned this title well,” the newly made warrior gave a familiar gaze to Bluestar.
“Although you cannot speak until dawn, I would like to congratulate you. You’ve adjusted to this life well, my apprentice. Words cannot express my pride. I do not think a better suffix than heart suits you for your true resolve,” Bluestar, although her usual calm and collected self, had a hint of giddiness in her tone, clearly overjoyed by this.
Fireheart returned her words with a smile, beaming. After everything.. he could accept this small victory. Though, he couldn’t celebrate yet. He still needed to tell Bluestar about the cat she called her deputy.
Graystripe gave him a rough shoulder shove, using his tail to point toward the entrance. Fireheart gave a nod, making sure Bluestar and his ‘conversation’ had concluded, before following the gray warrior.
Fireheart sighed. He understood the purpose of this vigil but it felt so unnecessary.. Graystripe was practically falling asleep by moonhigh. Fireheart had to hold in a laugh.
Before long, Fireheart heard the small breathing of Graystripe, and the tom couldn’t bring himself to wake his friend. They needed this.. a rest. He was exhausted himself.
He breathed in sharply, taking in the surroundings around him. He hadn’t taken time to appreciate the camp around him since he first joined. The vines that crept up the walls, the cracks in the dirt, the ancient pawprints in the ground, the sweet, crisp smell of the forest, the way the moon crept into the camp at its highest peak and radiated onto him its luminous glow. He couldn’t forget about the ominous eyes staring at him from the warriors den, either. Wait—
He blinked in surprise, the amber eyes staring at him with a sense of anger in them. Tigerclaw.. He returned the favor, steady, he wouldn’t let that murderer intimidate him..
One blink, and the deputy’s eyes had vanished. Did he just.. imagine that? Was he that tired? He’d rub his cheek, reminding himself to have a long rest after tonight.
The night was quiet, tame, and other than that odd.. hallucination.. of sorts, it was fine. Though, his exhaust was weighing him down. But, that soon came to pass when in the middle of the night, leaves shuffled, disturbing the silence.
It was in camp.. so it must be a clanmate, but who? He hoped it wasn’t a kit.. They were so mischievous. To his relief, it wasn’t, and instead it was a golden she-cat whose fur shone in the moonlight like the very stars. Wait.. golden she-cat..
His eyes narrowed. Oh, it was.. her. Fireheart raised a brow, clearly too tired to deal with her. Sandpaw shot her head around, looking around for viewers, before walking up to Fireheart.
Her pawsteps would come to a halt a fox tail length in front of him, giving them plenty of room between one another. She stared blankly at him, breaking eye contact to look away at nothing specific, just not him.
His eyes were filled with bitterness, and he knew Sandpaw could feel it. Fireheart felt he had every right to feel this way.. after her.. words toward him. Then they didn’t speak for moons other than in passing. For a while, they remained silent.
…
…
“I..” she choked on the words stumbling out of her throat.
“You.. err..”
She sighed, clearly frustrated though at whom remained unclear. “You’re.. annoying,” she blinked, surprised by her words. Fireheart gave her an annoyed look, after all these moons.. she says.. that?
“I mean— well.. I do think you are but..” Fireheart narrowed his eyes, the golden cat wasn’t making this easier on herself.
“Mouse-brain…” she mumbled, again it was unclear which of the two cats there she was referring to. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just.. it’s me.”
Fireheart blinked. He had guessed as much, seeing as he never did anything wrong other than existing, though this did confirm that.
“I’m.. I’m not even sure if I’m angry at you. I’m just— so upset, and you’re just a reminder of.. of..” her nose wrinkled, she still hadn’t made eye contact with him more than one this entire time.
“My failure,” those two words caused Fireheart’s neck hairs to rise, it felt like she had been holding that in for a long time.. How long had she felt this way?
“I mean— you just.. you walk in here, become an apprentice, instantly make friends, get Bluestar as your mentor, then suddenly every cat thinks you’re more loyal than me?” the old apprentice’s fur bristled with angry disbelief, jealousy, and.. sadness.
“I’m.. I’m the one who should be a warrior right now,” her head is now completely turned away, placed looking over her shoulder, protective of her expression. “Not.. not you,” she says it so bitterly, so suffocatingly sour, yet Fireheart can’t help but feel like every emotion she felt at that moment wasn’t directed toward him, but another. A cat he’d grown fond of, one that trusted him dearly. Yet in that heartbeat, the russian blue he’d looked up to.. didn’t feel so heroic.
“The only reason I’m so bitter about you being a kittypet..” she finally reveals her expression, clearly sealed from its former emotions, but still strong. “Is because as soon as you walked in, Dustpaw and I were just.. forgotten. Thrown away for some… MOUSE-BRAINED—“ she paused as she gritted her teeth, realizing she was getting loud. She shot an apologetic stare at the ginger, inhaling deeply. It nearly put a smile on his face to see her try to have some restraint; perhaps in a different setting it’d be admirable. “Twoleg..lover..” she hissed half-heartedly, hiding her gaze from his. Fireheart couldn’t get himself to feel mad.
Silence flew over them again, both refusing to speak, though for different reasons. “I only spoke to you tonight because.. I knew you wouldn’t be able to respond. I’m.. selfish like that. I can't let other cats have any input on my feelings. I..always feel like I’m competing. And.. I lost the race. So.. what now? I’ll just rot in the apprentice den?” Sandpaw sighed, eyeing the paws that weakly kept her
…
…
“You won’t.”
That Greenleaf night felt oddly cold, is that why he did what he did next? So she wouldn’t feel so..
At least she wouldn’t be cold anymore.
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The dawn came fast approaching, Graystripe now awake after Fireheart’s insistence. No cat would know Graystripe didn’t entirely hold his vigil, and no cat would know Fireheart..
“Oh Starclan,” Fireheart sighed, holding his head in his paws. Why..must his life be so chaotic. Every happy moment was fleeting.
“Fireheart, Graystripe,” Whitestorm grinned, dipping his head to the both of them, being the first to approach them. Fireheart shot his head up to stare at the puffy white furred tom with a surprised expression. “Busy night?” the senior warrior snorted.
“N-nope! Boring as you can imagine,” Fireheart seemed rather quick to answer, Whitestorm giving a curious look. “Tired, are we?”
“More than anything..” Graystripe yawned, desperate to crawl and melt into the moss bed he’d grown so attached to.
“I hope we’re both referring to the same den, Graystripe,” the older tom snorted, causing Graystripe to blink solemnly. No more apprentice den for either of them..
“It was.. kind of you to greet us, Whitestorm. Soon your apprentice will be in my place, right?” Fireheart chuckled lightly, despite having an alternative motive to the question than simple small talk.
“Ah, well.. I hope so.”
Fireheart clearly struck a nerve, Whitestorm turning silent. Whitestorm was related to Bluestar, wasn’t he? Didn’t she trust her own family? Bluestar was such a difficult cat to read.. It gave the ginger a headache.
“Right..” Fireheart wasn’t sure how to feel. Had they even.. done her assessment yet?
Their awkward conversation was quickly quelled by a certain blue-gray she-cat that adorned a particular shoulder scar. “Our new warriors.. congrats, again,” she beamed.
Both of them dipped their heads in thanks. “You two should be off to your new den, hm? The life of a warrior waits for no cat.”
“Right..” the gray tom with a single stripe quickly departed from his station, the orange backed one not so quick. “I think I’ll eat first.”
Fireheart wanted nothing more to sleep right now. In fact, the thought of eating right now made him nauseous, though not because of his tireless state. He needed to speak to.. a certain golden cat. They couldn’t go silent again. He couldn’t. The tom was done running away in this game of cat-and-mouse.
He sighed as he made his way to his cover up, mind clouded. What if he had offended her? Actually.. everything he did offended her. And now was no time to worry about if he was being enough of a gentleman. She was hurting, and even if her words weren’t directed towards him, he still felt obligated to make it up to her somehow.
That’s what she wanted.. right? But.. the golden she-cat also said she’d spoken to him last night on purpose.. so he couldn’t respond. Though, that clearly didn’t work out as planned. Still.. was it for the best that they didn’t speak?
Notes:
no, i’m not a masochist……
but if i was i’d really enjoy this. i’m not but. if i was..
also what did fireheart do?? :eyes:
Chapter 3: Fall Into The Deep End
Summary:
Fireheart and Graystripe return home from their journey to find WindClan. Sandpaw and Fireheart get sentimental and have deeper talks about one another, stirring their relationship both up and down.
Notes:
screaming and crying, i have a very deep love for his chapter and it’s little moments. *wink wonk*
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I can’t wait to get back to our beds,” Graystripe groaned, practically tripping over his own paws in exhaust.
Rain pelted into the new night sky, the sun having just set. A mist had formed, and the cats could barely hear their own breathing over the gorge’s thundering river. However, that would soon change.
Fireheart moved with care, it felt as if he was teeter. He feared him or his companions falling over the close death valley beside him. As he inhaled sharply, the air would escape him in fear when a loud, deafening yowl roared in his ears from the WindClan deputy.
What was Deadfoot screaming about? However, that question was quick to be answered as he spun himself around at the sound of charging steps to see the approaching figures of six cats, the air suddenly reeked of fish more than usual.
RiverClan.
This was anything but good. The gorge, it was right there. But, Fireheart wasn’t allowed a moment to protest. A brown tom flung himself onto the ginger, a paralyzing pain running through his body as teeth ran into his shoulder and raked his side. Fireheart struggled to break free, only managing to roll away from the gorge and furiously kick at his attacker's stomach, causing the brown warrior to recoil.
Fireheart’s whole body ached with pain and exhaust. He could barely think straight, his body threatening to shut down. He could hear the screams of battle around him, Onewhisker hissing with struggle and the smell of Graystripe’s blood filling his nose. Along with another noise.
A call that, for just this once, Fireheart would allow to comfort him. Tigerclaw’s war call.
As rain thundered down, blood and water becoming one in the mud, mist began to clear as Fireheart spotted the familiar faces of Tigerclaw, Whitestorm, Willowpelt, and Sandpaw.
The sight of Sandpaw brought a mixed response of emotions. They hadn’t spoken much since that Greenleaf night, which felt so insignificant now, yet he couldn’t keep it out of his thoughts. That was until the RiverClan warrior from before attempted to continue their skirmish. Fireheart’s shoulders and back stung with pain as the chocolate-colored cat sprung onto his spine, knocking the wind out of the tom’s lungs.
“This will be the last—“ the RiverClan tom began to say, but was cut off as a golden cat leaped over Fireheart’s gaze as the weight on him left. He corrected himself, looking to see Sandpaw and the brown tom tumbling. Sandpaw bit and tore off fur from him, clawing angrily into the chocolate-colored cat. Fireheart inhaled shakily, staring at the two for a moment as his heart felt as if it surged. A feeling of gratitude filled him, one he made sure he’d repay.
He looked on as the two nearly rolled into the gorge, alarms sounding off in his head as he raced forward and bit into the tom’s scruff, dragging him off her. He spat out the RiverClan, growling furiously as his neck fur bristled. The tom cowered back, running off. The ginger looked back at Sandpaw.
“I was trying to do that for you,” she frowned with a sad expression, seeming bothered she hadn’t been able to do it herself.
“I’m sure you would have been able to, but—“ he tried to explain, being cut off.
She looked frazzled, breathing unevenly. She didn’t seem to focus on Fireheart much, pacing forward toward another RiverClan cat fighting with Onewhisker.
Fireheart took this as a chance to do the same, absorbing the scene. TigerClaw was throwing Leopardfur off of the exhausted Deadfoot, while Whitestorm and Willowpelt were tag teaming two other RiverClan cats. This left only Graystripe, who Fireheart wasn’t able to spot. The mist had lightened, yet it wasn’t until a screech beckoned his attention toward the gorge edge once more. There, just a white paw’s claws dug on the edge, the cat that it belonged to hanging close to death. Graystripe’s maw hung open as he leaned down, just a second or two from saving them, when the paw disappeared from sight.
Fireheart sprung over as the sound of Graystripe’s mourning howl filled his ears, silence falling. He gazed over the edge to watch as a black figure disappeared under the foaming waves, followed by bubbles pouring up to the surface. “He… I..” his maw ached and squealed with noises of terrified astonishment. “His footing.. He.. lost it…” the words were hollow, struggling to spill out. “I was only…I didn’t mean…” Quick breaths escaped in hyperventilation.
“WHITECLAW!” The mackerelled RiverClan deputy ran to the edge, looking over. “No!” A pained expression lined Leopardfur’s face. Graystripe scrambled away from the edge, continuing uneven, fickle breaths as he tried to grasp the situation. Fireheart followed him, bumping his cheek in comfort, though Graystripe could only recoil away. His eyes looked bloodshot in terror.
“It’s not your fault…” Fireheart tried to soothe, yet his words didn’t seem to reach Graystripe. He didn’t know what to do. How to comfort his friend. He looked up to see the RiverClan cats staring at them, Whitestorm and Willowpelt shuffling behind them protectively. Yet Fireheart could only focus on one cat.
Sandpaw was looking over the edge, shaking. Her gaze kept flickering between a mud pawprint and the gorge. Then it hit him. She realized that was her pawprint, and how close she was to falling. The golden she-cat looked up and made eye contact with Fireheart, a concoction of emotions on her face and in her eyes. She looked mortified, but also furious. Whether that was reflected onto him, it was yet to be clear.
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Weeks passed, though they felt like seasons. So much had happened for Fireheart. Windclan.. Whiteclaw.. Cinderpaw. To make it worse, what Sandpaw said.. was starting to feel like it would be true. Why wasn’t she getting promoted? Each sunhigh he had hoped a ceremony would be held, but nothing met his hopes. Graystripe had also begun distancing himself and sneaking out to see a certain she-cat.
Tonight, he had gone to the stream that lingered into Thunderclan territory, despite them not being renowned for their water. The night was warm and cozy, unlike that night. He looked into the water, his reflection met with the stars looming behind him.
He wasn’t sure if he believed in Starclan.. not yet. But, he had to try anything. This was the closest he could get to the stars, as through his reflection, the sparkly sky gems seemed right behind him.
He leaned forward, craning down his head—
“Fireheart?” a familiar voice rang pleasantly in his ears, causing them to perk and twitch as he swerved his head around. It was her. The ever so familiar golden she-cat. They felt so distant from each other, yet weirdly in sync.
“You always wander off to the weirdest places,” she snorted, padding up and sitting behind him.
“I.. suppose so,” this felt awkward, unpleasant. Why was she so casual? Their relationship felt like a game of tug-of-war.
A now well known sound, or lack thereof, filled their conversations once again. It was like a hot spring, bubbling, sultry, but in a pleasant way if you liked it like that. Fireheart, however, did not appreciate the silence in their conversations.
Although he turned to looking at his reflection, he could just about spot her own expression in the water. The smile she had— like a shadow in the mist.
She was just as uncomfortable as him. That was oddly.. comforting(?) for the ginger. He felt bad for feeling comforted by what she felt was unpleasant, though it was more so that it was a mutual feeling than anything.
“Sandpaw, can we talk about.. that night?” he plucked up the courage as if he were staring down an enemy, waiting to strike. And so he had.
“Mm.. mhm,” she sighs, though not through an unpleasant lens. One of.. relief, mayhaps. Another comfort that soothed Fireheart’s electric fur.
“I.. I’ve been thinking about what you said. About how you felt,” he eyed her through the water, their scene rather pretty.. The two of them side by side in the moonlight under the stars. Yet it didn’t feel so special. When did this mystical, grand forest make itself seem so bland to the ginger? Had he gotten used to its charm? Or..perhaps..
Distracted again, Fireheart. That always seemed to happen when she was around. Was her presence just that unpleasant to him that he had to distract himself?
He’d stared off for so long he didn’t realize Sandpaw and him were making eye contact through the enchanting reflection.
“Oh..” he mewed awkwardly, alluding his gaze apologetically, not meaning to stare. It was rude, afterall.
“I want you to know that.. I’m sorry,” the ginger sighed heavily, his heart heavy.
“You’re.. sorry?” that question.. it made Fireheart’s neck fur rise uncontrollably. Her tone.. it didn’t sound.. genuine. It sounded..
“I don’t want your sorry.”
Bitter.
“What? But, I—“ Fireheart tried to back up.
“I know this will sound twisted considering my actions, but I don’t want your pity, or you to feel guilt. You aren’t the reason why I feel this way, and you know that. I know you do. You’re smart like that.”
The golden she-cat was ever so blunt.
“Then what do you want? What can I do, Sandpaw?” Fireheart put his paw on his cheek, his fangs showing in his slightly open, pained-looking maw.
“You can’t,” she muttered.
“I can’t.. what?” he whispered, a tone of disbelief and disapproval of her words. He could. He had to try.
“Fireheart,” her tone warned him of his wishes, tail lashing. “You can’t do anything to fix this. That isn’t what I want.”
“Then why? Why tell me any of that? So you could get a kick out of torturing me?” He was distant, cold.
“What?! No- no, Fireheart. That isn’t what I intended. I..told you all of that because you needed to know I wasn't upset with you. I’m doing all of this to prove myself,” she sighed desperately.
“Well this sure feels sadistic.”
“Fireheart! For Starclan’s sake, will you stop?” she growled with defeat. “You’re acting fox-dunged right now, do you hear yourself? I get it, I shouldn’t have dragged you into this! I was selfish to blame you for my problems before. But, please, work with me here. I can’t go back and fix my mistakes,” she sniffled. It didn’t feel like her venting was the only mistake she was referring to. This felt like a deeply cut wound that kept reopening into a long scar.
“Sandpaw..”
“I called you such awful things.. Yet you didn’t blink an eye. You really listened and all I have to return the favor is nothing. I should be sorry, I should be apologizing, yet you insist you’re the problem. You’re so mouse-brained.” Her tone held a long shadow of remorse.
___________________________
Crickets chirped in the forest like a choir, the ginger sighing. They weren’t very good at this direct eye contact thing.. The only time they were able to do it was when they had first said their greetings, and that was by pure mistake.
“Sandpaw…?” Fireheart mumbled.
She mumbled a response.
“What are we?” he eyed his paws.
“I don’t know. We practically claw at each other’s throats sometimes with our words. Does that make us enemies?” the golden she-cat’s tail danced on the grass, dragging across it.
“No.. friends can have fights too.” The ginger knew that well.
“Are we friends, though? We barely know one another, Fireheart. And I hate your guts. Not exactly friend material,” she half-joked through a resigned tone.
“I know, but.. Would you like to be friends?” What a silly question.. There was only one answer.
…
…
“No.”
Actually, there were two answers.
“Oh..” Fireheart’s legs felt weak and numb all of a sudden.
“It’s nothing against you, Fireheart. But.. I don’t know what friendship is.. what it’s like. Dustpaw and I.. we aren’t really good friends. We’re.. just surviving. Sticking together. Our friendship is more out of convenience, which isn’t healthy. A friendship between us.. isn’t healthy either.” Her tone remained resigned, as if she had known this fact much longer than he had, and already accepted it.
Sandpaw’s words echoed in his head. Was it possible to feel so alone from
someone depicting their own experiences?
“It’d be nice, one day, though. Just not soon. I still have things to work out. I can’t have cats relying on me when I can’t rely on myself,” Sandpaw sighed, Fireheart thinking he could understand. Maybe.. that’s how Ravenpaw felt? He always relied on others. He had felt like a burden to them..
Fireheart hoped Sandpaw wouldn’t consider a similar fate.
___________________________
Time passed, Fireheart’s life getting more hectic. On top of trying to figure out how Tigerclaw had killed Redtail and Oakheart, he had been training two apprentices alongside Runningwind’s help since his mouse-brained ‘friend’, Graystripe, was off ogling at that RiverClan she-cat, they aren’t even on talking terms anymore. Not to mention, Cinderpaw… His heart sank every time he thought of the she-cat. This was all his fault, and his eyes burned with anger and guilt.
With leafbare having arrived along with a whitecough outbreak, Fireheart takes that as an excuse to be out of camp more, in the quiet forest. It was even quieter now that less wildlife were around, hibernating. Here, he could ignore the fact that his own friends had left him behind. His paws feel heavy yet numb from the snow that crunched under them. He wished he could avenge Cinderpaw, maybe throw the sadistic Tigerclaw into a monster himself and see how he enjoys that.
But, Fireheart was glad for one thing. Cinderpaw had lived. That’s all he needed. She was Lionheart’s, after all. The guilt he had felt would be tenfold if Lionheart's kin had died due to his misconduct. Why did he even have an apprentice? He shouldn’t. He felt far too young, Bluestar had too much faith in him. Sandpaw should be given more of that..
Fireheart paused to slide down the slope to the stream from before that was tucked into his territory. It was partly frozen now. He recalled what Silverstream told him about RiverClan’s lack of prey. Was it wrong of him to.. want that?
Yes, Fireheart, it was. He reminded himself. Even if he hated Silverstream’s guts.. He let out a long, aggravated sigh, lashing his tail. Everything was too much. It sucked. He pushed his paw into his cheek, it scaling up his face into his forehead and pushing at the fur concentrated there. That offered some type of relief. It was hard not to want to drift away to moons ago. Back when Rusty was the only name he’d known. At least as Rusty he had Smudge..
Smudge. Oh, how he had forgotten his friend. He’d have to visit soon..
His train of thought was brought to a halt when he noticed a cat on the other side of the small stream.
“Sandpaw?” he blinked.
Sandpaw had already been looking at him, clearly she was already here by the snow on her back, and he just failed to notice. He felt a little embarrassed about that.
“Feeling gloomy?” she stayed where she was on the other side, gazing across at him.
“Sorry.. We always seem to run into one another.” The ginger sighed, but not in an aggressive fashion. Though, he had avoided her question.
“You and your best friend quarreling? You two have been so distant lately, and it’s not just because you’ve been occupied.” Sandpaw spoke rather seriously as she repeated her question, just differently, not accepting his avoidance as an answer. It made him worry how much the rest of the clan knew about the situation, shoulders stiffening.
“I think you already know the answer to that, Sandpaw,” Fireheart meowed half-heartedly.
“Listen, I don’t know what’s happening with you guys- but..” she paused. “I know you wouldn’t be upset at him for anything petty. You’re both mouse-brained, but Graystripe is far more immature and idiotic.”
The ginger snorted, he couldn’t argue with that. What he was doing right now.. it was so stupid. He turned his gaze back at the river.
“You’re going through a lot lately, you okay?” Sandpaw didn’t even know the half of it yet she was concerned as it is. Was his life just that awful right now?
“I..” Say yes, Fireheart. This was a simple question, why was he struggling? Sandpaw couldn’t know.
“No, I’m not okay..” he sniffled, suddenly feeling both a weight lifted off his shoulders and a weight glued to his chest. His eyes felt heavy.
“I’m starting to doubt everything. Ravenpaw, Graystripe, they’re both gone. My apprentice almost got killed because of me.. and.. and Graystripe doesn’t even care while he sneaks off to see that stupid she-cat and leaves me to train Brackenpaw,” Fireheart knew he’d revealed far too much, but it didn’t matter. It felt nice to relieve that off his chest even just for once.
“So that’s why you’re avoiding one another? Makes sense. He’s putting so much on you.” Sandpaw gave a concerned expression.
“I.. I guess,” Fireheart wasn’t sure. He was but.. was it really right to blame Graystripe?
“He is. Leaving you to do his duties, blaming you for his issues, he has no shame or self control. Even if he’s torn up about Whiteclaw, that isn’t your responsibility to bear.” Sandpaw seemed to be getting rather worked up about it. “He should be held accountable for his actions. If not by the clan, by you.”
Although Fireheart felt like half of that was because of personal reasons, Sandpaw was right. Graystripe was hurting him and didn’t even care..
He put his mitt on his cheek, contemplative. He didn’t even realize that Sandpaw had made her way over to him. She still kept her distance, rather for his sake or her own, he wasn’t sure.
“Thanks, Sandpaw,” he had an appreciative tone accompanied by a somewhat surprised expression when he noticed where she was now.
“Sure,” she smiled.
Fireheart sighed, “do you think I’ll be able to forgive him?”
Sandpaw falls silent, she’s clearly contemplating this. “..If he grows a spine and starts acting like a friend.” She snorted, clearly joking, though her words were still true despite her tone. Maybe he could learn to forgive.
“You’re really wise,” he complimented, grinning. Sandpaw chuckled.
“Yeah, I am older than you. I’d only expect to know more,” she gives a smug look.
“You’re only a few moons older than me. Where do you get your wisdom from? Don’t tell me.. have you been hanging out with Yellowfang? Cinderpaw has grown so wise since being around her..” he teases.
Sandpaw scoffs, “My smarts are natural, thanks.”
“Pfft..,” he chuckles.
Notes:
my love for these two grows ten fold each chapter i drop istg. also i wanna feel bad for graystripe but yknow… graystripe apologists gl convincing me
Chapter 4: When The Sun Meets Its Peak
Summary:
A near death experience and a huge celebration stir the heart strings of these cats.
Notes:
TW for the beginning of this chapter! u can scroll down to where it ends if you’d like (there will be an indicator)
anyways, this chapter is JUICY, i love it. the chapter development is so yum, the relationships are so good.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
TW : mention of de4th, blood, wounds, and fear. description of murder & suffocation
No— this couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end. Claws dig into Fireheart’s shoulders as he’s pinned, he can feel every little detail in this moment. The slight breeze, the tugging of leaves on the wood, the brown, battle-scarred tom that pushed him into the dirt below. He killed Spottedleaf and now he was going to kill Fireheart too.
His heart beat so loud, and Fireheart listened willingly. He begged it not to stop, he begged to hear it, hoping each one that passed by wouldnt be the last. His heart stung, it weighed bittersweetly.
This was so unfair.
Fireheart breathed in deeply, staring at the yellow eyes above him. For a moment, the ginger thought he saw Tigerclaw in Clawface’s place, and that only terrified him even more. Maybe this had been Tigerclaw’s plan.
Fireheart blinked as he could feel pain absorbing his chest as he was slashed by his opponent, hissing in pain as he closed his eyes to stop himself from wanting to ball his eyes out with resentment, sadness, and a little bit of bitter regret.
Suddenly, the weight released. Is this what death felt like? Fireheart, through his fear, built up the courage to open his eyes. A bright, golden light filled his view, he’d squint. The sun held a warmth he hadn’t noticed before.
As reality smacked the ginger, the world was suddenly vibrant with life. The loud screams of battle from cats around him he had begun to know, and two familiar coats to his side that were standing over the tom that once had him nearly dead.
“What—..” Fireheart began to say as he slowly got up, stepping in his own blood, however he was silenced by a deafening scream.
It was one of the rogues, staring at a gray cat. An unkempt one.. Yellowfang? He absorbed the scene, and recognized she was standing over no cat other than Brokenstar. The rogue that had howled began running out of camp, the steps of a few others following.
The metallic smell of blood filled Fireheart’s nose. He made his way toward Yellowfang, noticing Brokenstar’s cold and limp body.
“Is he..?”
Yellowfang appeared oddly faint, as if in extreme pain. She shook with the fear of StarClan in her gaze. Before he could ask, she cut in. “No. Not yet.”
The sentiment stunned Fireheart, yet he couldn’t comment. He watched as Yellowfang peculiarly dug her maw into his fur, a tired, resigned look in her eyes.
“Having kits isn’t easy,” the old she-cat sighs, stepping away from Brokenstar’s body just as it began to seize, as if she knew it would occur. Brokenstar shivered with fear. “I can’t..” he said shakily, breathless.
“It’s dark.” He sounds distant.
“It’s alright, Brokentail. I’ll get you patched up.” Yellowfang aided the dark brown cat, who had no other choice but to follow. Most of his wounds were cleared, but that’s when Fireheart noticed the deeper cut on his shoulder and his eyes. It made Fireheart want to gag. He gave a worried look to the two.
“Where’s my thank you?” The ginger’s fur practically jumped off him as he turned to see Sandpaw standing beside him. She laughs brightly at his reaction.
“For?” Fireheart blinked, still dazed by all of this. He had grasped most of everything, but he was clearly missing details.
“Pulling Clawface off you, of course! Oh, and, Graystripe helped too, I suppose, “ she joked, though Fireheart didn’t seem to react much. “That’s the second time I’ve knocked a cat off you, I’m getting good at it.”
“Oh… thanks,” he hummed, staring off at his former friend, paws stained in crimson as he stood over Clawface, limp.
Sandpaw blinked, frowning, a mixture of confusion and sympathy. “You okay?” she stepped forth to get into his view once more, causing Fireheart to rear back and process her presence.
“I.. I don’t know,” he spoke honestly in the heat of the moment, a look of distance in his pupils.
“Maybe you should ask Graystripe what he thinks?” Sandpaw suggested, Fireheart giving an uncertain look. The thought terrified the ginger.
His chest raised in anticipation, raising a paw forward, then another in Graystripe’s direction. He exhaled, finally by his friend’s side after a long time. Yet this wasn’t the scene he imagined.. or the state he had imagined the gray tom to be in.
Graystripe looked gutted, like a relative of his had been brutally murdered and he was forced to watch. He looked one hundred moons old.. It didn’t make sense to Fireheart.
Then a certain metallic smell filled his nose, reminding him just how gruesome their situation had just been. He almost died.. Yet he was barely able to process that.
Fireheart looked down at the body. The brown tom just towering over him looked meager now that their positions had switched.
“Graystripe.. are you okay?” A look of worry turned to the singularly striped feline.
“I..He..” Graystripe’s breathing increased rapidly, he looked devastated. The tom moved his bloody paw to his own neck, holding it there as his maw hung open, trying to find the words.
“He.. was on you and.. something. Something snapped in me. I.. I got so mad. I couldn’t think properly.” He stuttered, halting every few words to contemplate what to say, processing the event.
“Suddenly his neck was in my claws. I heard it so clearly, I felt it. The snap.. The way his throat crushed.” Graystripe looked Fireheart dead in the eyes. “It was like Whiteclaw all over again. I killed someone, Fireheart. I..”
Graystripe’s paw hovering over his neck lightly squeezed it, as if he tried imaging the pain himself. “I’m a murderer..” He shook.
Fireheart stepped forward, upon no resistance from Graystripe, he went in and put his head on Graystripe’s shoulder, the gray tom mimicking him. The ginger could feel his body vibrate like the ground in an earthquake, as if he was going to rupture any moment.
“I’m sorry.” Fireheart could feel the words enter his ears with such disbelief.
“How can you apologize right now?” The ginger raised his head, though Graystripe kept his well placed.
“I don’t know… You almost died.. and me being awful was the last thing you would remember of me. And then I.. feeling Clawface’s life leave his body, all I could think about was if that was you.” Graystripe frowned deeply, voice raspy and breathless.
“Graystripe..” Fireheart searched for the words, unable to obtain them. Was he.. sad? Relieved? Angry? “Thank you,” he grinned warmly. He couldn’t forgive Graystripe just yet. It was hard to, especially so suddenly.
Paws thundered into camp, spoiling their moment of reconciliation. The rest of ThunderClan had finally made it home, the blue russian taking the charge. She looked rather frantic compared to her usual self, zoning in on Fireheart rather immediately and padding over to him.
“How have you been holding up? When we realized that it wasn’t ShadowClan, Graystripe raced back to camp..”
Bluestar snuck a gaze at Clawface’s corpse. “I see.. so it was as I feared. An invasion from Broken..star and his rogues,” the words left her mouth quite bitterly, though she remained poise despite her disgust.
“What of them now?” she turned back to them for answers, Graystripe still looked out of it, so Fireheart took the charge.
“Most of them were driven away when Brokenstar was struck down by Yellowfang,” Fireheart informed, Bluestar’s face lighting up almost immediately.
“Has he more lives?” she questioned.
He shook his head. “Yes, but he definitely lost a life. Yellowfang.. she.. made sure he’d struggle rising to any power for some time.” Noticing Bluestar’s intrigue, he proceeded. “She clawed out his eyes.”
*END OF TRIGGERING CONTENT*
“I see..” she seemed rather thoughtful about it, as compared to how Fireheart reacted with pure disgust, she appeared unphased.
“Very well, how did you all hold up?” Bluestar almost looked pleased to hear him talk about Brokenstar’s blinding.
“Good, I think.. All things considered. It was only the six of us. Graystripe helped us dearly.” Fireheart spoke with familiarity for him he hadn’t in a long time. “Sandpaw and Dustpaw fought like…” he paused, considering his words. “Warriors. She saved my life against Spottedleaf’s killer.”
He grinned with pride.
Bluestar gave him a look of perplexation, though it quickly was swapped with one of understanding and a nod. “I see,” a small, approving smile inched at her face. “Well done.”
The blue-furred cat went to go discuss with the others, mentioning something about patrols, leaving them to themselves.
“Graystripe..” he approached with a delicate voice. “I’m going to have a hard time forgiving you.” Fireheart remained upfront. “But I can learn to, just give me time and show me the cat you are now.”
“Okay.. I will. Thank you, Fireheart,” the gray tom grinned tiredly, staring down at his paws for a moment.
“Will you be okay?”
“Yes.. I will. I just need time too. We can wait together,” Graystripe sighed bittersweetly with a sense of relief. “Besides, you need to get your chest patched up..”
Fireheart looked down, remembering his bleeding wound. He barely remembered it existed. He licked his paw, rubbing it against the wound. “Right..” It suddenly hurt again.
The ginger said his goodbyes, making his way to Yellowfang who previously left rather mysteriously.
Upon making his way to the entrance of the medicine den, it was oddly quiet. As he stepped in, he saw Brokentail laying in a moss bed, snoozing. It was odd to see cobwebs covering his pupils like a mask.
“Finally come for that wound?” Yellowfang emerged from the deeper part of the den.
“One nasty thrashing, hm?” as she spoke, she didn’t seem fully there. However, Fireheart made no comment and sat down on the moss bed next to Brokentail’s. The gray she-cat held various herbs in her maw, setting them down beside her as she settled in front of Fireheart and got to work on his wound, beginning to clean it.
At first, they were silent, but curiosity peaked in the ginger. He was also desperate to escape his own thoughts. “So.. you called him.. Brokentail,” he’d allude to his thoughts on it.
“Yes, indeed I did,” she responded, chewing a golden flower into a poultice.
“Why?” he blinked.
She paused, staring at him dead in the eyes for a moment before holding up her paw, quickly spitting out the poultice onto it, and smudging it into his wound. “He is not a leader, just a depiction of what could have been.”
“But.. isn’t he your.. yknow?” he eyed around.
As she pulled out cobweb from a stick and began wrapping it over the wound, she’d grunt. “Yes. But, it does not change. Even if you believe I should hold personal bias.. I do not. I cannot. It is not in my right.” She held a loneliness in her gaze.
“But.. I don’t understand,” Fireheart frowned with confusion at the medicine cat.
“Raggedstar and I were in love, but I’m a medicine cat. Simple as that. You know we cannot have mates.”
“But you still had a kit..” he challenges, though keeping his tone neutral.
“Right. If my clan found out I was his mother I would have been exiled.. though that ended up happening anyways, for different reasons,” she finished applying the bandage, going to put away what was left.
“Oh.. I think I understand,” he frowned. So ShadowClan didn’t know. Meaning.. Brokentail must not either. That one fact.. it struck a cord in Fireheart. He related to that, maybe too much. Was Brokentail’s path.. one the ginger could have followed if not for other factors?
“Now, are you going to keep your friend waiting?” Yellowfang turned, motioning to the entrance. Fireheart, once oblivious to another presence due to being deep in thought, looked to see Sandpaw.
“Oh!” He stood, standing and enthusiastically bounding over.
“Feeling better?” Sandpaw questioned, Fireheart giving a nod. The ginger noticed the golden she-cat’s oddly bright expression, giving her a questioning gaze. Sandpaw nosed in the direction of the leader’s den. “You won’t believe it. After Bluestar checked with everyone, she asked Darkstripe and Whitestorm to meet in her den! That can only mean one thing,” she beamed, the tom’s reaction following a similar melody.
“That’s great!” his ears perked as his smile spread across his cheeks.
“What do you think my warrior name is going to be?” She asks, but before Fireheart answers, she puts her paw over his mouth. “Wait! Don’t say, I already know,” she grins.
Fireheart blinks. “You do..? How?”
“You’ll see,” she hums.
The tom scuffs playfully with a grin, “Well, I guess I will,” he looks up, Sandpaw following his gaze as a familiar tune rings their ears.
“May all cats old enough to hunt their own prey gather at the Highrock for a clan meeting!”
___________________________
Fireheart squinted his eyes as a shadow cast over Bluestar standing high on the leader rock, sun beaming above her.
“Brokenstar and his rogues attacked us whilst the majority of the clan was out. Fireheart, Graystripe, Dustpaw, Sandpaw, and Yellowfang fought tooth and nail to protect the camp, and succeeded. I have been informed Brokenstar is being kept in the medicine den,” Bluestar goes over the familiar scene Fireheart had gone through himself.
“They fought valiantly when I failed to realize ShadowClan was not the culprit of the prey thievery.”
There was a pause, a wise and proud smile spreading across the russian blue’s maw. “Dustpaw and Sandpaw.. step forth.”
The fur on Fireheart’s chest raised in anticipation, eyes widening. He caught a glimpse of Sandpaw’s gaze before he watched the golden cat and her brown, striped companion move forward to the front of the clearing, the Highrock’s shadow casting over them.
“Sandpaw, you have proven your undying loyalty and dedication to your clan. I call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice and I commend her to you as a warrior.”
“Sandpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect your clan, even at the cost of your own life?”
Sandpaw stepped forward, ears perked highly with a beaming face of utter pride. “Yes, I promise.”
The shoulder-scarred she-cat would nod, “Very well. Then by the power of StarClan, I give you your new name. From this moment onward, you shall be known as—.”
“Wait!” Sandpaw suddenly shouted. “I.. I want to pick my name. I know what I want it to be.”
Bluestar stared down at Sandpaw, unreadable. Was she disheartened? Proud? “Hm. Your proposal peaks my interest. Just what had you hoped for?”
“Sandstorm,” her cheek fur puffed up as she inhaled sharply. A sense of anxiety was clear. “Whitestorm never stopped believing in me. He showed me how to be a warrior.”
“I must agree. Again, you reflect your maturity.” Bluestar inhales. “By the power of StarClan, I give you your new name. From this day onward, you shall be known as Sandstorm.”
“Sandstorm! Sandstorm! Sandstorm!” Every cat called. Fireheart seemingly the first who gave it his whole heart as he looked at the cat before him. Finally, is the only word that could come to mind. Sandstorm. The name rang in his ears like a bird song.
Sandstorm bounded over to Fireheart. “What do you think? Sandstorm. It has a good ring to it.”
Fireheart grinned. “I didn’t expect you to interrupt your own ceremony for it,” he snorted.
“Pfft, I didn’t exactly get a moment to ask her in private.” Sandstorm swats her paw in his direction.
“We’ve been rather busy today.. In general, really. But, I knew as soon as the battle was finished you were going to become a warrior.” A sense of pride falls onto his shoulders. He looks at Sandstorm, and for once, feels a genuine connection. Friendship? His heart rattles with emotions.
“I don’t know. I didn’t really expect it. I mean, who even told her? Graystripe and Yellowfang were busy. Ugh, don’t tell me Dustpelt went and bragged to her. That’s so embarrassing..” She gives a resigned face. “That mouse brain doesn’t stop running his mouth. Though, I guess it turned out well for us.”
“I think you’ll be happy to hear that it wasn’t Dustpa- pelt. It was me. She asked, so.. I thought it was appropriate to tell her that you saved my life.”
Sandstorm’s eyes go wide, the golden she-cat is suddenly brought to silence.
“What?” an anxious feeling flashes over Fireheart as he searches Sandstorm’s face. She seems disappointed.
“Oh. Nothing,” her tail slashed as she sat down, facing the Highrock instead of him as she waited for the meeting to end.
“Please tell me what I did wrong,” Fireheart frowns, reaching his paw out to her shoulder but rearing it back, deciding against it.
Bluestar would call for the meeting to end, Sandstorm quick to begin walking away. “Sandstorm..” Fireheart said as he chased after, still keeping his distance.
Sandstorm swerved around on her heel to face him. “Not right now. I need a minute. Otherwise I’m going to explode,” she warned, turning back and making her way to the exit. Now that she was a warrior, she didn’t need a cat to accompany her. Fireheart stopped in his tracks, watching her take the chance to cool off.
“Okay,” is all he could get out, the word echoing in his ears as he watched her tail disappear. He looked down at his paws, at himself.
You’re not this clueless, Fireheart, he reminded himself. What was she upset about? I have to know.. she must have told me.
He moved to the fresh kill, trying to stop himself from pacing. If he did, cats would surely catch on, and he couldn’t deal with multitasking between them and his thoughts right now. The ginger scooped up a squirrel from the pile, moving across the clearing to a rock in the shade next to the medicine den. He had experienced some of the cruelest yet some of the greatest moments in this area, it had grown sentimental.
He bit into the gray-furred critter, eyes dilating with thought as his whiskers twitched. He scrounged through his mind palace of memories like a rabbit digging a burrow for Leaf-bare. Finally, it hit him.
You can’t do anything to fix this, the sentence was suddenly vivid in his thoughts. His mind raced, ears pinning back. When he told Bluestar what Sandstorm did.. was that him going against her wishes? Had he accidentally tried fixing her being an apprentice and succeeded?
His body boiled with regret and anger. Regretful for what he did, and angry towards himself. But also.. angry at her. It wasn’t his fault Bluestar favored him so heavily. He didn’t even know why. How could he stop her from doing so when he didn’t even know himself?
He smudged his paw into his cheek, ruffling his face fur. This was so frustrating. It always felt like he was doing something to screw up their friendship. He dug through the squirrel, more violent than usual and grumpily swallowed it.
He stared at the ground in front of him when white paws suddenly appeared in front of him. He looked up to see the familiar Whitestorm. “Hello, Fireheart. Did Sandstorm tell you where she was going? She becomes a warrior and now she’s off hunting until her heart is satisfied!” he jokes with a grin.
“No, she didn’t tell me,” Fireheart says with a cold tone he hadn’t recognized. “Sorry, Whitestorm. I didn’t mean for it to come off that way. I- I’m not doing that great.”
“I know you mean no harm. But, if you don’t mind this old cat prying, what has your fur all ruffled?” Whitestorm takes a seat next to Fireheart, just under him on the ground while the finger stays up on the stone.
At the mention of his fur, he instinctively runs his paw against his forehead and down to the bottom of his neck. “Well, I- I messed things up with Sandstorm. I keep messing up.” He struggles to even look in Whitestorm’s direction. “She told me not to do something and then I accidentally did it anyway.”
“I see. Have you apologized?” the fluffy tom asks. Fireheart shakes his head.
“I just realized I’d done it and Sandstorm was already gone. I.. I really didn’t mean to hurt her.” Fireheart frowned.
“Why don’t you go find her and talk? She needs to come back to camp for her vigil, so I'd like for you to bring her back. You can take that as a chance.”
Fireheart pauses. “I don’t know.”
Whitestorm’s tail brushes against the earth, making a small dust cloud that drifts past them. “If she doesn’t want to talk, it’s alright. You don’t have to today. It can be another day. Still, she needs to come back.”
Fireheart sighs, “Alright.” A soft smile lines his maw. “Thanks, Whitestorm.”
Whitestorm nods.
___________________________
Fireheart feels his heart in his chest beating rapidly with anxious knots. He didn’t think he’d be this nervous to speak with her. He just hoped he didn’t mess anything up further, and she could forgive him.
His paws crunch the grass of the forest that leaves glow in a deep
orange, reflecting the sun that had just begun to set. He pushes through a bush into the sandy hollow, where Sandstorm’s scent ends. He can just barely make out her fur, it being a similar color. It felt like she belonged there.
“Sandstorm?” Fireheart called. He could see the back of the she-cat flinch behind the fallen tree in the hollow, sitting there without facing him. He slides down.
“I know you needed time to think. If you’d like to talk we can.. but I came because Whitestorm asked me to bring you back for your vigil.”
“It’s weird how we’ve swapped places. I was the one approaching you during your vigil, and now you’re approaching me during mine. It’s a little silly,” she turned her head to look at Fireheart.
“Sandstorm— you don’t have to talk,” Fireheart seemed alarm.
“Pfft, I appreciate the thought but I don’t really care about that tradition. I think the vigil is silly. I may love our clan and culture, but I’m going to talk when I like,” she snorts.
“You’re.. ugh,” Fireheart laughs, unable to form words to try and show any amount of distaste.
“Awful?” Sandstorm clearly jokes, climbing over the dead tree and sitting her back to it.
“Maybe,” he continues to grin.
“Alright. Let’s get this over with,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you meant well.”
“Oh. I was getting ready to apologize,” he admits as his ears perk, caught off guard. “It’s my fault that I forgot you didn’t want me trying to help.”
She tilts her head. “Yeah, but.. It’s not your fault that Bluestar favors you. That’s not something you can control.”
“I guess.. I just feel bad. I feel like I’m always screwing up our..” Fireheart’s tail lashes. “Friendship?” He takes a quick glance to make eye contact with her for a slim second.
“Friendship,” she confirms. “And I’m not upset with you, Fireheart. I was just frustrated before. I was more frustrated at myself than you,” she stands, approaching Fireheart. There was a small height difference between them, Sandstorm barely having the advantage as she looked over him. “Really. I..”
She inhales deeply. “This is embarrassing..” she chuckles nervously, neck fur raising. “I value our.. odd friendship. It’s almost charming.”
“Almost?” he gives a joking scoff.
“Shush, I’m new to this real friendship thing. That is what this is, right? It’s.. real?” She looks down at Fireheart expectantly.
The ginger flinches at the question, whiskers twitching and brushing against Sandstorm’s fluffy neck. “Hah.. You’re asking that.. now?” He grins. “I’d like to think so, yeah. Unless you’re having doubts—“
“No! No, I’m not. I.. I’m not.” Sandstorm quick backs, Fireheart tilting his head in response. “Sorry, I just- I don’t want to ruin this.”
“You don’t have to apologize for having feelings,” he says with sincerity and a charming, sympathetic grin.
“I know.. this is just hard. Being honest with my feelings is hard,” her eyelids fall, staring at Fireheart with a new look to them.
Fireheart nervously laughs, that look.. It reminds him of.. that night. He locks eyes with her, a sense of curiosity in him. But also, a rising feeling of…
“Do you want a hug?” the words jump out of him, he feels surprised by himself.
“You’re quite the hugger,” she smiles, “Is that what you always refer to when someone needs comfort?”
“My old friend, Smudge, used to be a hugger. It kind of just.. stuck.” He reaches for his cheek, embarrassed at the sentiment.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Sandstorm leans back.
“Uncomfortable?” Fireheart gives a perplexed expression, tail flicking as his ear droops.
“Well, you do this thing with your paw where you put it on your cheek when you’re nervous..” She mimics him.
Fireheart’s fur bristles, “I do?” He seems surprised, looking down as he moves his paw away from his cheek to stare at it. He seems a little frazzled by this revelation, almost moving his paw back to his cheek in response to this new nervousness, but stopping himself.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Sandstorm tries to soothe. “Here. How about I take that hug now?” She leans forward, Fireheart reciprocating. Her thick fur dives into his. “Really, it’s not a bad thing.”
Fireheart laughs. “I know, it just caught me by surprise. I.. didn’t expect it,” as his chin rests on her shoulder, he slowly blinks with a heavy-lidded look.
“It was a mouse-brained observation,” she says with a coat of humbleness.
“Sometimes it can be nice to hear a cat notice the little things about you,” Fireheart shrugs.
“Oh, yeah? What do you notice about me?” She leans into him more.
“You’re snarky,” he snorts, tail flicking.
“You said the little things, Fireheart,” she shoots back.
Fireheart chuckles, falling silent to think. “Well, you get extra snarky to keep cats at a distance. You find it hard to trust. But you also want friends.”
It’s now a dim night, like the many others they’d met on now. Crickets chirp as they both fall silent for a moment.
Then, Sandstorm scoffs sarcastically. “Didn’t need to get so serious..” She finally replies, though her tone seems unsure. Fireheart decides to end the hug there, stepping back.
She suddenly leans forward, stopping herself as her forehead is inches from him. Though Fireheart doesn’t flinch, nor retract back. They make deep eye contact, they can hear each other’s breathing. It’s quick, wispy. It takes a few heart beats until it’s Sandstorm who leans away. “Good night, Fireheart,” she rushes, though she doesn’t seem regretful. She seems.. happy. “I’ve got a vigil to do, I’m already late as is.”
As Sandstorm leaves, Fireheart is left standing there, sitting as his legs go weak. His breathing remains quick, his heart struggles not to feel like it’s floating to the moon.
His paw returns to his cheek, unsheathing and even digging into his skin slightly.
“Mouse-brain..” he whispers as he leans forward as if he’s about to dive into the dirt and never leave. He can feel his cheeks grow warm.
He was over with.
Notes:
ok admittedly i feel bad for graystripe this time around but that don’t change the fact he treats fireheart like a play thing, period. but i do hope i am keeping the graystripe lovers well fed with the attention he’s getting u_u
ALSO THAT MOMENT AT THE END??? fireheart… :eyes:
Chapter 5: This Isn’t Right
Summary:
The antics continue, and Hide and Seek becomes a date.
Notes:
okay so i may have gotten caught up in finishing the last chapter and making it perfect that i forgot to post the chapter i finished, SO, i decided to post them both at once! thank you all for your love toward this, i’m very thankful. <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The noise of tiny paws fills his ears when something leaps onto his face, forcing any calm awakening away as he bolts up and shakes it off.
His eyes rush open once the attacker is off him, and his eyes absorb the cat before him. “Cloudkit…” Fireheart says in a hushed, tired voice as he noses the fluffy white kit out of the warrior den. Dawn had barely made its way into the day. His eyes flutter as he tries to properly adjust to the pouring in sunlight.
Cloudkit gives a pout, “You’re no fun!” Fireheart gives a frown.
“I just woke up. Give me a while and I’ll be up on my paws and ready,” Fireheart’s tail flicks in annoyance.
“Fine, you mouse-brain,” Cloudkit wanders off, leaving Fireheart puzzled by his nephew’s insistence to ruffle his fur. He can only grunt in response, wrapping himself back into the cozy warm bed instinctively and dozing back off, too tired to think otherwise.
Darkness falls into Fireheart’s mind. He must be asleep for only an hour before something strikes his back. Being awoken again, the coldness of the day causes a shiver down his spine as he turns to look who it is.
A long, resigned sigh escapes him. “Yes..?” he tries not to seem absolutely exhausted and done when he realizes it isn’t Cloudkit again. His eyes scale up and squint at the golden cat towering over him from where he lay.
“Cloudkit wake you up again?” Sandstorm leans forward, Fireheart giving a small nod.
“Mmh..” is all he can get out as he keeps his eyes closed shut, trying to resist the urge to sleep.
“We have a patrol but I can let you off if you need the extra sleep,” she offers a patient tone.
He grunts again, silent for a good ten seconds before drowsily raising from his moss bed. As Sandstorm leaves, he follows, stretching. His eyes are still heavy.
The pair make their way across the clearing in the cold dawn to meet with Dustpelt and Ashpaw. By then, the bitter cold against Fireheart’s paws had woken him up enough to seem decent. “Hey,” he greets. Dustpelt brushes him off, immediately talking to Sandstorm. But, Fireheart was able to squeeze in a quick smile toward his apprentice before they were on their way.
Dustpelt enthusiastically takes the lead with his apprentice, reminding him of landmarks as they patrol the territory’s perimeter. Fireheart and Sandstorm walked in a similar pace to one another, lower than the two in front of them but not far enough away where they were secluded.
“Has it really been that bad since your nephew joined? I know he’s been waking you up, but..” her concerned tone was almost gratifying, comforting even to Fireheart.
“Ugh,” is what he jokingly gets out in response at first. “I love him but.. I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep since he‘s been old enough to talk. I know it’s not the queens’ fault, I’m grateful Brindleface is even nursing him, he’s just.. slippery. Like snow.”
“Thank StarClan you just missed the opportunity of searching for him in the snow,” she laughs, Fireheart shooting her a shocked expression.
“You really are sadistic,” he grumbles. “At least I like the snow, it’s pretty.” He grins as if that little comment miraculously one-upped her.
“You like it? I can barely stand it..” she groans. “Leaf-fall is the perfect temperature and climate,” she says with such confidence.
“Leaf-fall is nice..” he states with a contemplative look. “But, it’s when the clan’s stress is nearly at its highest. So much hunting..”
The golden cat nods in agreement, picking up the pace. “I just hope we don’t have any illness outbreak.. First we had greencough, and then whitecough..” she says with a worried tone, looking back at Fireheart as he matches her pace.
“ThunderClan always prevails,” he gave a reassuring smile.
“Not every cat..” she says, a chip of aggression in her tone with a saddened expression. She then quickly follows it with an apologetic, “Sorry— I didn’t mean to sound rude. I know you mean well.”
“Sandstorm,” he says with a serious tone, locking eyes with her. “Did you..” He pauses, unsure how to approach asking the question. Was this.. a bad way to ask? He wasn’t certain. “Lose a cat to an illness?”
The she-cat is silent for a moment. “Yeah. A few moons before you joined, when we had the Greencough outbreak.. My mother got sick, and joined the ranks of StarClan.”
Fireheart’s chest stung. “I’m sorry.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled half-heartedly. “Well, now you know why I was such a fox heart to you, and why I have such a need to prove myself. Sorry about that, by the way. I gave you a hard time when you first joined. You knew half the reason, and now you know the rest.”
“I already forgave you for that,” he frowned, shaking his head. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“No, I still do. Maybe you shouldn’t have forgiven me.. Just because I’m a sob story doesn’t mean what I did was justified,” she looks over and makes eye contact with him.
“I know that!” He seems insistent. “But, we were also apprentices. You lost your mother and then, to make it worse, your performance in training suffered because of it and then you fell behind,” he went through it, explaining how he thought of it.
“Hey, wait. You’re onto something, Fireheart,” she gives a curious look to him, tail flicking. They both come to a halt as the cats in front of them pause. Dustpelt seems to be going over prey signs with Ashpaw, as he points at a crushed leaf. They decided to sit and continue chatting as they wait.
“Maybe that’s why Bluestar didn’t make me a warrior sooner…She saw I was grieving which distracted me. Then, I finally proved I was ready at the fight with Brokentail and his rogues,” her ears perked, eyes having a certain gleam to them. This revelation brought an excited tone to her. “Fireheart.. you’re a genius!” She puts her paw onto his shoulder enthusiastically, grinning widely. Fireheart doesn’t seem as psyched, but puts his paw on hers and grins.
“Sandstorm.. Can I ask you a few questions?” he asks. He seems flattered by her compliment at him having a stroke of genius, but seems too curious about other things for his own good, focusing on those instead.
“Pfft, alright,” Sandstorm chuckles as she calms down. She has a different look to her now, as if she’s practically glowing as she smiles. Although it’s distracting, Fireheart pushes through.
“Well, there are a few things about you that I’m unsure about,” he begins as he pulls his paw away. “Like.. how did you and Dustpelt get so close?” Fireheart wasn’t sure if that was the best way to phrase it, they didn’t seem as close as they once were, but the fact still remained they were close at one point, so he could ask for more details later if he had to.
“We were denmates and practically grew up as brother and sister. We became even closer when my mom died since she helped raise him. But, with everything happening with me, you can imagine our friendship wasn’t built on the healthiest foundation. When I started maturing faster than him, we grew apart. I’m not sure where we stand now.. but I do still consider him a friend. Probably not a brother, though. Even if I still love him like one,” she explains with a calm tone. “Speaking of siblings.. Have you visited your sister recently? What was her name..”
“Princess,” he nods. “Whenever Yellowfang needs Catmint.”
“Right, Princess,” she nods, seeming to make an effort to try and remember. Sandstorm looks Fireheart in the eyes, having a certain look to her. She’s curious about something, the tom can tell just by the way she looks at him.
“What?” he smiles, being unable to stop his giddiness from her staring due to his lackluster efforts.
“Nothing,” she smiles softly, giving him a look he didn’t see often. “I was just curious.. you always ask me stuff about me, but I never ask you. Who were you before you were Fireheart or Firepaw?”
Fireheart’s eyes widened slightly, caught off-guard. He genuinely didn’t expect that, though he didn’t seem nervous when he thought of his answer. “I was.. Rusty. A kit who daydreamed about the taste of the birds that chirped outside his yard, and the life that lived beyond it. Who hated the ringing of the obnoxious collar bell glued to his neck in his ears, and also had a friend named Smudge who loved him and hated to see him go.”
“Sounds nice,” she looks on with a content expression as Fireheart observes her profile.
“Yeah.. but Rusty felt something was missing. Like HE was missing something, so he went in search of it and found a friend in the forest who called himself Graypaw, which was such an odd name,” Fireheart jokes. “Odd at the time.” He smiles fondly at the memory, Sandstorm seeming well aware of that fact.
“Does this mysterious Rusty character get a happy ending?” She leans toward him, causing Fireheart to hesitate. He isn’t sure how to react to her movement.
“..Yes, I’d like to think he does.”
“You think he does? Well, what happens at the end?” She gives a curious look.
“I’m still working on that part, I’ll get back to you about that once I revise it a little,” he gives a smug look at her, yet she doesn’t return the sarcasm. Instead, she seems rather serious.
“I hope he gets that happy ending,” she hums. Yet the way she says it. It’s.. distinct in her tone. Almost matter-of-fact, confident, like she positively already knew the answer to that statement, and she was pleased with it. It made him feel at ease, yet unsure.
“Yeah… me too,” he sounds distant, staring at the golden she-cat as she returns her gaze to the others. Something feels different. The way he looks at her, like he blinks and she’s more beau— no. Not finishing that thought. Was it possible to say that platonically with the way his heart was lodged in his throat, beating rapidly? He’d seen her like this before, like she was glowing radiantly. But.. the more she revealed herself to him, the more often he felt it. The more often it became natural.. like a default.
He inhaled sharply as the dark brown tom ahead of them looked back, “Ashpaw and I are ready to go. Are you two or do you need more time to flirt?” His apprentice gave him a wide look, the black speckled pale gray tom giggling. Dustpelt would give a smug smirk at his response.
Before, such a comment wouldn’t bother him and he’d easily be able to write them off, but he felt his muscles belt unnaturally as soon as he processed what was said. How did he know? Did he? Was it that obvious? Fireheart paused, thinking it over. What DID Dustpelt know? Just what was Fireheart admitting to?
“Dustpelt.. Don’t start fights you can’t finish.” Sandstorm rolls her eyes, standing as her tail flicks. She smiles deviously.
“I could totally win a fight against you!” He protests his pride.
“You’re just trying to show off for your nephew. You don’t have the spine,” she teases.
“You’re gonna get it, Sandstorm!” He starts marching towards her, Sandstorm dodging to the side of him and running ahead in laughs as Dustpelt chases. The ginger tom and Ashpaw follow behind, keeping their distance to avoid the play fight.
Fireheart would snicke, trying to ignore his former thoughts, turning to Ashpaw in search of a distraction. “You’re Ashpaw, right? You’re one of Brindleface’s kits, it must be nice having her as a mother.” He tries to make conversation, though Ashpaw doesn’t reply. Once looking at the pair ahead, he turns to look at the speckled apprentice who seems to shyly be looking away. Fireheart inhales, “Dustpelt is your uncle, right?”
After a moment, Ashpaw nods. “Mhm..” he turns to look over at the ginger, a curious look.
“That must be great. Cloudkit is my nephew, it’d be nice to have the relationship you two have with him.”
“Cloudkit? You’re Cloudkit’s uncle?” Ashpaw’s ears perk. As their paws marched in sync, crunching the crispy cold grass and dead browning leaves underneath them, Ashpaw moved in closer to Fireheart with intrigue. “Cloudkit is mischievous. You two don’t look or act anything alike. He looks more like my brother than he does your uncle,” Ashpaw scrunches his nose in thought. “Are you.. really? But, you’re so heroic and cool.. Cloudkit is.. not that.”
Fireheart chuckles. “That’s why he’s my nephew, we’re going to be different.”
The edges of Ashpaw’s maw twitch. “That’s really cool. It’s like me and my uncle! We don’t really look or act alike either..” The tom-cat smiles lightly, “If you couldn’t tell.”
“I was pretty surprised at first,” Fireheart admits. “But you two seem to get along well.”
Ashpaw nods enthusiastically, “Mhm!”
Fireheart and Ashpaw are brought to a halt as they watch Sandstorm and Dustpelt scuffle, the ginger holding in a snort. Sandstorm said she only saw Dustpelt as a friend.. yet they fought like true siblings. At least, in comparison to what he saw of the kits and their bickering. Princess and him never had that. Sandstorm would get a grip onto the brown tom’s ear and begin pulling, causing Dustpelt to yell a quick, “I surrender!” Despite it being a clear ego crush.
Sandstorm would roll off him victorious, “Told you I’d win.”
“You’re such a cheat, Sandstorm,” he huffs, shaking off the dirt and grass on his fur and blowing a raspberry at her.
“Careful, there’s more where that came from,” she teases, Dustpelt rolling his eyes. The golden she-cat glances at Ashpaw and Fireheart to see the ginger with a wide, amused grin that was almost smug. She darted her eyes away, giggling under her breath in embarrassment. “We should get going, it’s almost Sunhigh.” A layer of sudden, forced maturity in her tone and expression caught Fireheart off-guard, getting a good chuckle out of him. He’d watch as Dustpelt gave her a double take at it, giving her a certain look he couldn’t quite dissect.
As they began their way back, he couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at the golden-furred she. The ginger was contemplative, but he couldn’t quite put his paw on how he was feeling. It was off.. it wasn’t right. He inhaled deeply, maybe he was sick. His heart did feel odd.. floaty almost, now that he thought about it. He hoped he wasn’t.. he hasn’t been sick since he was a kittypet. He blinked slowly at her.
Maybe the frost of the cold was getting to his lungs.
___________________________
Fireheart placed the vole in front of Goldenflower, who lay with her kits Bramblekit and Tawnykit close to her belly. “Thank you, Fireheart,” she gave an appreciative, tired chime to the warrior. Giving a quick, fierce lick to the multi-colored tortoiseshell, nosing her with a purr before beginning to eat.
Fireheart gave a smile, watching as Goldenflower attentively cared for her kits. “Have you seen Cloudkit and Brindleface?” He pawed at the dirt.
She nods, swallowing. “Cinderpaw came in saying Yellowfang needed him for a check up, nothing serious,” she gave a reassuring tone in her last words, as if she predicted his stress.
“Thank you, Goldenflower,” he grinned, pushing the hanging lichen out of the way to move out of the den. He made his way over to the medicine den just in time to see Brindleface and Cloudkit leaving. Cloudkit would let out a big sneeze before bounding over to the ginger when spotted. The mass of white fur leaped for his paw, attaching himself like a leech and not letting go.
“He’s fine, just isn’t reacting well to the New-leaf pollen,” Brindleface explained as she approached.
Fireheart gently nudged his grappled leg, trying to swat off the stubborn kit. “Cloudkit..”
“Play with me! You said you would and then you left without me!” He pouts.
“I..” He pauses, sighing. His puffed, ruffled ginger fur resting. “What game?”
“Hide and seek, Fireheart!” He squirms, shuffling off his uncle’s once imprisoned paw.
The ginger gives a concerned look over to Brindleface. She seems reluctant at first, but eventually nods in acceptance. “Fine, fine. Who is hiding and who is seeking?” Fireheart’s thin tail flicks.
“I’ll seek because it’s hard for me to hide with my fur! You go hide!”
Fireheart raises a brow, watching as Cloudkit runs into Brindleface’s legs, shoving his face into them and begins counting like the adorable kit he was. Fireheart sighed, how could his nephew cause him so much strain yet be this sweet in the next moment? The ginger shook his head in resignation before beginning to scout around for a place to hide. He wasn’t sure if he should be concerned or not as Cloudkit never gave him a time limit, and Cloudkit was still learning to count, but he was certain he had a good amount of time to figure things out. He had already ruled out the dens, those were far too obvious. He wanted to give Cloudkit a challenge (and totally wasn’t using this to his advantage to take a break from his little nephew), so his hiding spot had to be superb.
Finally, it struck him. He made his way over to the foliage wedged between the Elder Den and one of the larger trees and rock piles next to it. He shoved himself in, slotting in well. It wasn’t too cramped, and was spacious. Then, he played the waiting game, which came naturally when he was playing with Cloudkit. However, it was taking longer than usual for Cloudkit to even pass him.
Curiosity twisted in Fireheart’s stomach, he was oddly tense. Was he nervous about being found, or how long this was going to take? Maybe both. But, this was also his first opportunity to be alone for the first time in a while. It was weird. It wasn’t a bad weird, though it didn’t feel necessarily good, either. He needed the humming of others to soothe his own taunting thoughts. For a moment, he swore they were almost tantalizing, yet when he searched for why.. he came up blank. Maybe he was unsure of what he was thinking, or maybe he was too sure, and was putting in the effort to block out the answer. Hide it, conceal it, so he had nothing to admit to.
Suddenly, he hears a familiar voice. It almost makes him jump out of the bushes in a panic, but he catches himself before the golden cat walking past startles him any further. His cheek fur bristled wildly, frizzy like how it’d react when he rubbed up against a blanket in his old twoleg home too much. He let out half a sigh, the rest of the air caught in his throat. Uncertainty flickered in him as thoughts passed through his mind a million miles a minute, them all singing a similar tune, one he’d usually be unable to detect when he blocked them out so easily by the sounds of other cat’s voices. But now? It was near impossible.
He could hear muffled voices in the distance, and tried focusing on them. He recognized one of them immediately as Sandstorm, which was no surprise to him, yet he still had this giddy feeling. Her voice instantly melted his worries yet increased them at the same time, but they were easier quelled now that her voice was here to focus on. Although he couldn’t make out the words.
He felt absolutely idiotic at that moment, wondering what would happen if Sandstorm had caught him hiding like a kit. That description fit too well, because he was hiding from a kit. He felt his fur prickle and his body boil in embarrassment, hoping she wouldn’t find him. Hoping no cat would. Except Cloudkit.., maybe. He didn’t want to be trapped here until Cloudkit became Cloudpaw. The thought of that sounded so far away yet eerily close at the same time.
Fireheart dug his face into his paws, face clad with lines as he scrunched it. A lot of times, he was so overwhelmed he felt 100 moons older; this was one of them. Yet it was odd. Why? What awful thing occurred this time that made him so despondent? Tigerclaw was fresh in this head, but was admittedly growing stale until this moment which reinvigorated his thoughts of him. That couldn’t be it. He couldn’t think of anything particularly awful happening recently. Other than Cloudkit’s shenanigans. Maybe that was it. Cloudkit had left him exhausted, so much so he was somehow mentally wounded in the process.
That sounded mouse-brained. Besides, Fireheart wasn’t necessarily upset (other than at Cloudkit, anyway), he was just put off. He felt wrong, yet not in a bad way. His face contorted. He just knew he was missing something. Something obvious. Lately, that’s all he’s been feeling. Lonely and flushed. Lonely, the word echoed despite his attempts to ignore it. He sighed, yeah. He was lonely, despite his best efforts. The only cat he spoke to often was Sandstorm, she was also the only cat he clicked with. What an odd turn of events.
Sure, he had others. Cloudkit, Whitestorm, Yellowfang. But he barely considered them for a moment, their acquaintance seemed surface level. Except for Yellowfang, she was surprisingly more open. Fireheart’s eyes stung as he blinked back the pain, the drastic change in emotions hitting him like he imagined would a monster.
He tucked in a raspy breath as he attempted to control his breathing, conquering this wave of dread. He was trying not to give himself away as he steadied, stopping the trembling he hadn’t even realized had started. He sunk further into the bushes, although the leaves tug at his fur, and upon release the sprigs shook in possible disclosure of the ginger’s position, he felt better. However, he had noticed Sandstorm was gone by the silence, his heart sinking to his surprise. He found his disappointment astounding, grumbling to himself. He loved and hated this feeling. Uncertainty.. yet fondness.
“Aren’t you too old to be playing hide and seek?” He recognized the voice behind him immediately, maybe too quickly for his liking— or maybe it was too his liking? It nearly caused him to jump, but as he turned around to face the she-cat, he was almost smug about being right.
“Not for my nephew,” he shrugged, rolling his eyes and grinning at Sandstorm. “How did you—“
He had begun to ask, but Sandstorm shushed him. He looked at her with a puzzled expression before his orange complexion showed one of horror when he heard the small pitter-patter of tiny mitts, one he was acutely aware belonged to a certain white tom.
After a moment, it was gone after they both flinched from a huff nearby followed by disappearing pawsteps. Again, he felt it necessary to repeat his question as the answers he seeked applied to it still. “How did you know?”
Her ears twitched, causing Fireheart to give a flustered huff. “So that’s where he gets it from,” she grins slyly.
“Who gets what from?” He narrows to her, she better not go there.
“Cloudkit gets his huffing and grumbling from you. He sounds like an elder.” Oh, she went there plus some.
Fireheart’s tail twitched. “I can’t with you sometimes,” he jests, sounding almost breathless before reclining his head down with a scoff. He chuckles warmly with a soft grin, and after a moment he rises to gauge the golden’s reaction. However, it hadn’t been what he expected. She seemed to have barely even noticed he said it, and if she did she didn’t react. She was just staring at him. Usually he’d feel uncomfortable, if not threatened, under other circumstances. Yet when it was her, it was oddly nice. He could feel his face flush with heat, practically dizzy from it.
Suddenly, Sandstorm’s eyes fluttered before she looked disturbed. “Sorry,” the golden cat said rather short as she apologized, turning her eyes away.
He grins though with the littlest hint of confusion trickling in, “It’s fine..” He responds at first, pausing before proceeding as he considers if he should prod, if he had the right to. He then nods to himself, as if accepting they were close enough. “Why? I’m not offended.”
“Well, it’s rude to stare,” she gives a small laugh to try clearing the air, though it doesn’t work.
He raised a brow, wondering if she was being serious. “Yeah, insults are fine but staring? Oh, that's too much for Sandstorm,” he scrunches his nose, but his comments don’t seem to make it to Sandstorm in the same light. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong,” she says, still refusing eye contact.
“Right, nothing—“ he begins with a sarcastic tone and roll of the eye.
“Speak for yourself,” she says, a little too serious for how the tone had been moments before. That’s when it clicked that something was really wrong.
“Okay,” he flinched, still caught off-guard. “What crimes am I speaking for exactly?” He tried not to sound irritated because admittedly he was by how brash she was approaching this, he had gotten used to her edges having softened, but his tone leaked through despite his efforts, sounding more sarcastic than he anticipated. He wanted to apologize, say he was taking her seriously, but the opportunity left as soon as it had come. He felt like a bitter toad had been lodged into his throat, leaving his mouth dry when she continued before he could.
She seemed unmoved, just glaring at him judgingly with a disapproving face. After a few more seconds, she sighs. “You’re just.. disappointing in how you act at times,” she mumbles, barely understandable. Fireheart’s ears twitch, a look of guilt in his eyes. Her ears pinned.
She didn’t mean that, did she? Maybe she had a point. Why deny the truth? Fireheart let in a quickened inhale. “What can I do better?”
“W—what?” she blinked, staring in his direction with her eyes widening in temporary shock. “I.. I didn’t expect you to be so willing to just.. talk about it.”
A short, lingering sense of sympathy toward Sandstorm. Slowly, she was making more sense. It clicked to him why she always needed to be louder, to be heard. Because she wasn’t before. The golden she-cat seemed to notice that look of his and awkwardly glared away. “Yeah, let’s talk,” he’d grin.
“I.. I know I hurt you. I was mean. I don’t want to ignore what happened, but.. I don’t need you reminding me almost every time we talk,” she had an uncertain expression to her. When she inevitably looked up to gauge his response, he just gave a confirming nod. Seeing this, she appeared more confident in relaying how she felt. “I know they’re jokes, but that behavior towards you was a time I was hurting, and it’s an indirect reminder of that. I’m trying to do better,” she inhaled, “But it’s not easy when it feels constantly brought up.”
“Alright,” he nods again in understanding. He wouldn’t want to be constantly reminded of something shameful he did either. He paused, the air still thick. He thought it over for a moment. “Was it.. at least funny the first time?” He smiled sheepishly as the facetious jest flew out of his mouth.
She looked at him, almost appalled, before the corner of the golden she-cat’s maw twitched upward with amusement. She let out a sigh, “Yes, it was the first few times.” She’d chuckle.
“That’s good at least,” he sighed with relief. He grinned, looking at her for a moment as his face warmed. “Hey, I—“
He suddenly felt a small force tug at his tail, shooting his eyes wide as Sandstorm held back a laugh, a little startled herself. Fireheart immediately knew what had happened.
“Fireheart! I found you!” Cloudkit beamed, grinning widely as the ginger raised out of the bushes, shaking off the dirt and leaves that lay in his fur. “I win!”
He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, shooting a gaze back at the foliage as he stepped out. Worry bubbled in his stomach. Weirdly, the thought of him and Sandstorm getting caught together made his head whirl. It’s not like they’d done anything wrong. The ginger blinked slowly, absorbing the evening sunlight as it crawled against the sky and into the crevices of the horizon
“Yeah, yeah you did,” he forces a smile, a lingering disappointment he didn’t recognize was there at first. Then he bumped up, “Good job! Very good work, Cloudkit. How about we get back to Brindleface now? It’s getting late.”
The white tom gives a curious look to his uncle before nodding enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to go to sleep! I worked so hard to find you, I’m going to sleep for like.. a whole moon I’m so tired!”
Fireheart laughed, “Is that so? Count me in. Hiding is hard, too.”
“Nuh uh! You just lounge about! I had to run around and sniff everywhere!”
“Agree to disagree,” Fireheart nuzzles his head against Cloudkit’s who reels back in fake disgust, disguising his genuine fondness of him as he races ahead.
“I’ll just ask Brindleface,” he raised his chin to the sky in dignity.
“Please don’t tell her..” Fireheart twists his tail in fear of the scolding he’ll get, picking up the pace to stop his nephew.
Sandstorm flooded his mind yet faded in it at the same time, a lasting thought yet a fickle difference in aff-.. affiliation. His heart creased and tugged in ways unimaginable to Fireheart once before.
It felt fresh, new, freeing. Something he’d never had assigned to Sandstorm before. It was.. odd. Something was askew, off. It wasn’t right. What game was Sandstorm playing at? Was she playing one at all?
Maybe he was overthinking this.
Notes:
this chapter turned out a LOT longer than i expected, but the love birds continue! i couldn’t help but mention brindleface and goldenflower, i love those too endlessly. my sweet little queens!
Chapter 6: Sickly Sweet Sickness
Summary:
A confession, THE confession.
Notes:
THE TIME HAS COME!! the last chapter is here, get the popcorn and enjoy.
EXTRA NOTE: TW! A little panic attack. It WILL be marked for you to avoid if that comes as a trigger for you. happy reading <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
His heart was stirring, thumping at every mention of a certain name. One that rang in his ears a little too well. At first, he was quick to dismiss them. He had grown accustomed to friendship over the moons. However, any attempt to push these feelings aside made his body scream with dread.
“Yellowfang, I think I’m sick,” Fireheart croaked, a look of desperation in his eyes.
Yellowfang gave him an odd look. One he hasn’t seen before. Other times when he was ill or injured, she’d instruct him to sit down and she swiftly and skillfully found the issue. But, now, she just stared at him for a moment, eyes lingering down to his flank. Then, she shook her head. “Why is that?”
“My heart is beating irregularly and I feel.. sick? My body is constantly hot,” he sounded unsure despite himself.
“Uh-huh. Go lay down on one of the moss beds,” she pawed in the direction of them, sounding disinterested and nearly sarcastic. Fireheart felt embarrassed in the moment, maybe he was being silly. He followed her instructions. “How long has this been going on?”
“A few moons. It’s very on-and-off so I wasn’t sure when to come to you about it.”
Her face contorted at him, unamused. She then went over her unusual procedure of poking and pulling seemingly randomly. His ears, his paws, his tail. Until eventually, “You’re fine, just as I thought.”
“But—“ he hated to question her judgment and advice, it was usually pretty solid, but it left him without any answers.
“When does this usually happen?” she cut him off, catching what he was about to say.
“I don’t.. I don’t know. When I’m usually just around the territory,” he blinked.
“Nowhere in particular? Near water, near certain plants, certain cats.”
That last part caught Fireheart off guard. “What? Why would a cat affect—“ he began, choking on his own words as it quickly hit him, along with the back of his throat which caused him to be thrown into a coughing fit. Oh.
“A momentous occasion indeed. Go have your panic outside of my den, though,” she huffed with an edged fondness.
Fireheart stumbled out of the den, being caught by Yellowfang once more.
“Tell them soon, Fireheart. I can tell you’re hurting by not.”
The ginger blinked in surprise, a double whiplash in such a short amount of time. How did she know before he did? That didn’t.. he didn’t.. He refused to believe that. It was silly.
A specific golden she-cat lingers in his thoughts, but he pushes that aside. It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t focus on it. It wasn’t the truth.
___________________________
TW! !
The ground felt like it was shaking. He felt like he was shaking— trembling. This was a dream, and if he wished enough, begged enough, he’d wake up. No matter how real it felt, it wasn’t. He refused that fact. None of this was real.
Bluestar naming a deputy late, her choice being him, of all cats, Graystripe leaving him behind. It was just a nightmare, this was just a nightmare.
But as the minutes ticked by like hours, as the sun crawled down and the emanated heat from it faded from his fur and the Newleaf night grew cold and isolated, his past hopes burned into ash that this was a dream.
His breaths were rapid, he let in a deep, sharp breath to try and quell his burning lungs, but it only made his body cough and groan in protest. His vision was fuzzy as he tried understanding where he was, and how he’d ended up here.
After Graystripe left for RiverClan.. any type of composure Fireheart had been able to glue together with sap had vanished. His emotions had overcome him, and his legs moved faster than anything. His eyes darted around. Bushes, flowers, catmint, fence. It had started returning to him. He ran this way to escape, to speak with Princess. But he didn’t make it there, and he was glad he hadn’t. It would have terrified Princess to hear of what happened to him, what was happening to the forest with her son in it.
So, now, he was alone in a Twoleg garden. He wasn’t sure what to do, where to go. Did he go back? No. It was far too late without a companion.
His mind stirred and hissed in protest of being used. He dragged his exhausted mitts to a large, overhanging bush and fell to the ground underneath it, laying there as his side rose up and down slowly. His breaths were raspy and shaky with fear, and as he tried to take deeper, controlled breaths, a clear scent filled his nose.
The catmint. Yellowfang had briefly explained the effects of it to him, but that didn’t matter now. None of it did. The gears in his head finally stopped turning, resigning. He shifted onto his back and stared up at the stars.
He wasn’t sure what he was doing or what he expected, but suddenly he began to silently beg for their aid. For them to stop this. He couldn’t take on this role. He couldn’t do this alone. He didn’t want this. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to expect for him to manage a clan right now. He was too young.
When only silence met him, he stared at the sky for a moment longer when a sudden dread hit him. It felt like the stars were closing in on him, judging him. He begged them not to. His breathing quickened again, any rational thinking vanishing. His ears could only hear his own suffocating heart, his body numb, and as he breathed through his gaped mouth he could detect only one taste: catmint.
The scent of it was strong, choking. He retched and gag at it, gasping in resistance as it smothered his lungs. They squeezed in pain, burning. He could taste blood in the back of his throat.
Stop, he cried. It did not stop.
I don't want this, he squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t end.
He was in such undesirable pain and terror that consumed him like a cat did to their own prey, it didn’t register to him at first when his body came in contact with something and he heard the faintest voice.
END OF TRIGGER CONTENT! light mentions of pained breathing for a few more but other than that you should be fine :)
His body shuttered as it registered the cold, but that feeling quickly faded and was replaced with warmth. The sensation reminded him of that night.. his vigil. When he hugged Sandstorm. He opened his eyes at the thought in surprise, only to be overcome by further shock as his suspicions were met to be true.
It was Sandstorm. She had wrapped her front leg around his neck and placed her head on his, rhythmically licking his head. The cold sensation sizzled down his spine, but was comforting. He let out a mix between a purr and a pained laugh, it was ticklish.
Fireheart shook with a bundle of emotions, trembling through a quivering breath. Then, it stopped. After a few moments, a sweet, comforting hushed voice filled his ears. “Fireheart..” she began, he could hear her frown and worry. Fireheart let out a few more forced breaths before they finally regulated, and the pain in his lungs and chest began to subside. Yet, he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Are you okay?”
He grunted in response.
“That was mouse-brained,” she muttered. “Obviously you’re not. But.. I don’t know.” Her grip on his neck loosened, but he placed his paw on hers in reassurance he was fine like this.
Fireheart leaned his head back, his ears brushed against her cheeks, though it didn’t make it any easier to see her like he’d hoped. He let out a resigned sigh, and she chuckled in response.
Suddenly, he could feel the golden she-cat dig her muzzle into his head. A purr raised in his throat. “Thank you,” he finally coughed out, his voice raspy and quiet. His throat still scratched when he spoke. When he inhaled, the anxious pit in his stomach healed from her presence, covering the smell of catmint that suffocated his nose. If he tried enough, he could smell the herb. That, he was sure of. But, he didn’t tempt it. He had no reason to. This moment was perfect the way it was, and he hoped it would continue as he savored every second of it.
His eyes drank in the moonlight that filled them, fireflies lazily gliding above them. It was a captivating sight that was enthralling. “Sandstorm, I..” His heart ached, demanding this to be over with. The wait for it to die, come to an end. He shifted his weight onto her.
He could feel the words dance in his maw, blocked from escaping him. He inhaled anxiously. “Thank you,” he repeated, too nervous to state what he really meant. What he had silently admitted to himself in those few moments. His paw pushed into hers affectionately. face growing hot against the cold night air. “This is nice.”
“Yeah.. yeah it is,” she hummed. After they fell in comfortable silence for a long while, her voice raised again. “I.. know this is a lot for you. Bluestar is putting a lot of pressure on you. Like she did with me. I know what you’re going through,” she brushed her paw gently against his chin as he repressed a purr. “I’m here for you. If you need help with your deputy duties or whatever else is going on with you..”
“Whatever else?” his whiskers twitched curiously.
“Yes. Your.. um.. well, I don’t exactly know. Graystripe just told me that you were in the medicine den when I was looking for you before, so I assumed…”
“I’m fine,” he chuckled. “Did you want something before.?”
“No, I just wanted to hangout,” Sandstorm mewed coolly, though he could hear the faint bubbling of her heart begin to quicken.
“Did you..have something in mind?”
“No, no.. nope. I just thought we’d… do something. Fun, maybe.”
His tail curled. “Very descriptive plan,” he sarcastically smiled as he pushed his back legs into the dirt, leaning himself back further so their heads were next to one another, hers on top of his with their cheeks rubbed against one another. Their bodies were entangled with one another like vines.
“I had a plan,” she spoke suddenly rather seriously, clearly disliking the suggestion of her not having thought their time together through. “I was going to make up an excuse to get away, then sneak up on you.., blind you,” she did so with her free paw, covering his eyes. “Then we’d laugh about it abit.”
“You planned the laughing too?” He grinned with intrigue.
“I’m confident in my abilities!” She beamed with pride.
“Like the first time we hung out at Sunningrocks— you were rather confident in your abilities..”
The golden cat nodded. “Though you do owe yourself some credit, you caught on pretty fast then. You did good hunting that bird.”
“Yes!” He did a victory squeeze, clearing his throat. “I wasn’t sure if you approved. You didn’t say anything, and you were an older apprentice with more experience..”
“I was.. a little jealous, I’ll admit. I expected you to screw it up. When you didn’t.. I was too stunned to speak. It was impressive. You’re impressive.”
He blinked slowly at her, amused and bewitched with something deeper than danced in him, lulled his worries and made his mind drift endlessly yet allowed his vision— his mind —to focus on only the cat before him all at once. Yet, his heart full, the ginger’s tongue was numb. Devoid of response. It nearly escaped him the fact that he should respond. As his maw hung agape, conjuring up a response, the golden she-cat his eyes were locked to continued.
“This reminds me of that night.. when we glared at each other through the stream,” she spoke calmly. He remembered that night well, the scene flickering in his mind. How beautiful it was, yet he underappreciated it in the moment. He had been focusing on something else, someone else.
“Sandstorm, I..” his face grew hot like the tanning rocks of Sunningrocks. “I need to tell you something.”
He could feel her body stiffen, muscles contracting. Her belly fur tickled his flank as it bristled. “Let’s.. head back to camp, first. Then we’ll talk. The whole clan is worried sick.”
He’d completely forgotten about that, about them. The whole world had melted away, the looming sounds of crickets filling his ears as he was reminded of his presence in the world. That he wasn’t just an observer. He scrambled up, followed by her. Despite her words, she didn’t appear in a rush, only a slow gait he had to match in pace.
“That day when Brokentail and his rogues broke into camp..” she snuck a quick glance in his direction to confirm he was still listening. “And I saved you. It was surreal. I was fighting one rogue and in the next heartbeat I was barreling towards you and knocking off a rogue on you. That was the second time I’d done that, and yet.. It felt different from the first.”
Her head was arched in the direction of silverpelt, eyes beautifully reflecting the stars in their pools. “I don’t know how to describe it.. I didn’t think. Couldn’t think. Just acted.”
Fireheart blinked, halting and staring at her wide eyed as they locked eyes. It lingered a little too long, his heart burning. The golden she-cat pulled her eyes away, suddenly walking again and picking up the pace.
“Almost there,” she said with an edge of nervousness in her throat.
Eventually, after a long silence, they reach the camp and trek down the ravine. All is quiet as moonlight spills into the campsite, not another soul in sight. Sandstorm abruptly stops not far from the entrance, Fireheart instinctively following. She turns, staring into him with her hexing green eyes.
“The night of your vigil. It was the first time I opened up to a cat. It was stupid,” she chuckles. “But, I’m glad it was you. When you were in danger.. being choked by that cat in the camp invasion. I sensed something. A pull.” She took a few slow steps forward, Fireheart not daring to move. “It felt like, if I didn’t— I was losing someone I deeply valued.” Embarrassment flashed in her expression.
“This is stupid- I don’t know how to..” she held her breath, frazzled. Trying not to psyche herself out. “I’m.. Fireheart.” She looked into his eyes. “You bring out something I locked away, you make it fester and pour out of my maw before I have a chance to react.”
“Somehow, you’ve latched yourself onto me,” her fur prickles, blinking rapidly. “I'm not sure if I want you to let go, either.” She shakes her head to herself, taking a step back. She looks shocked at herself, “That was— so bad. How do you do this all the time?”
Fireheart chuckled when she let out a pitiful one. “Be loving?” he asked.
“..Yes,” she admitted coyly.
“Sandstorm. Did you.. want to-?” Before he could even finish, he watched as she gave a nod.
“If you’d want. I know you have a lot going on right now. There’s no rush,” her tail sweeped the dirty ground in a flick.
Without realizing, Fireheart was suddenly approaching her, stopping only a couple pawsteps away. Sandstorm stared intently, blinking with her pupils wide as an owl’s.
Heat surfaced through his face, spreading across his entire body as his neck fur raised in anticipation. With an expecting look from Sandstorm, their foreheads clashed affectionately, rippling yet soft purrs pouring out of both of their throats simultaneously. A sense of relief washed over him, the anxious feeling building across his spine instantly melting.
His heart was swelling, filling his chest with a fuzzily light feeling, the same one that filled his head and brought dizziness. Yet, it was somehow a lovely experience. It was a faintness you couldn’t mind, that you sought after to forget your worries and drown in it. It made you dazed, but that’s what you craved from it because then it made you focus on the most beautiful thing without hesitation.
“Sandstorm?” their eyes lay closed as they pressed their templates against one another’s. She answered with a content hum. “I love you.”
She didn’t respond.
“Really, I do,” he repeated.
“I know.”
“I don’t think you realize how much I do,” he grinned with an affectionate chuckle. “That day. At the river. No— even before that. Whenever I got distracted, whenever I couldn’t pay attention. I was absorbed in the moment. The forest had lost its beauty, it’s hold on me that made it mesmerizing. Not because I grew tired of it..,”
“But because there was something, someone, prettier that I couldn’t stop from captivating me.”
“And that’s me?”
“Mhmmm.”
“StarClan, Fireheart, you’re such a mouse-brain,” she breaks into quiet laughs that she tries to suppress as to not wake the entire clan, leaning into him to hold herself.
“But..” she pauses, both of them opening their eyes to lock. “I love you too.”
“I know,” he smirks with fake cockiness.
“I take it back,” her nose scrunches, pawing at his face to make it stop.
“Don’t I get to be a little smug? I did call you pretty..”
“Mmm, I don’t remember that,” her eyes look away toward the moon that was spilling its light onto the both of them, casting a light blue glow onto the campgrounds.
“Do you need me to say it again?” he snorts.
“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt. Just to make sure I remember this time,” her cheeks pull at her eyes as a big, genuine smile forms across her maw.
“Fine, fine. Sandstorm, basking in this moonlight now, the forest is as beautiful as ever. But it compares nothing to you.”
After a short pause, she responds with a laugh and shake of her head. Her shoulders rise and fall. “Nope, still as cringey as before, Fireheart.”
“Hey, come on now..”
“You should know though, Fireheart.. I think you’re more beautiful than the forest too. Maybe even.. the stars?”
“Careful, you’ll offend StarClan,” he jests.
“I’d do that and more for you,” she sighs with a grin.
Notes:
this was my first time writing a fanfic that i actually ended up publishing (don’t look in my google docs, i beg you), and i do hope you liked it! if not, critique as to why is appreciated to improve my writing as i’m always learning.
firestar and sandstorm are a huge obsession of mine because i always thought the books could have done better to betray them. and i hope i did i good job??
i also couldn’t help but sneak in some yellowfang sassing fireheart for being oblivious. <3
—
any love towards this fic is immensely appreciated, ty for reading!

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