Ghost Song || End Result of ' Warrior Cats: The Lost Songs'

[wikipedia [he/him]]

 

WIP!! 

This is the last re-write of The First Book in 'The Lost Songs'! Since, obviously, even the prologue isn't finished yet, this is an extreme wip.  

 

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PROLOGUE

Characters:
Fading - ghostly white tom with dark, void-like eyes (No Clan)
Tanglethroat - reddish-brown tom with green eyes (Royalclan)
 Waspjaw - silvery grey tom with blue eyes (Antlerclan)
Volepaw - light brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes (Ivoryclan)

 

The white tom slinks in, unseen if it wasn't for his ghostly pale pelt- Waspjaw, sat under the moon-flooded oak, huffs. "Took you long enough," He says, cool-toned, harsh.
That pale tom chuckles and smiles at him. "Waspjaw," He purrs, "Aren't you neglecting your duties coming here?"
Caught, the deputy jolts, icy eyes narrowing at the languid pace the ghostly one had set. "Maybe so," Waspjaw replies, stilling in his seat. Defensive. Beside him, Tanglethroat had been washing his herb-stained paw, a sigh escaping his muzzle. "Wasp, you know better than to argue." The blood-furred tom flicks his tail, laying deeper into the branches that formed a protective nest around him; his eyes cast a gleam into the air, and perhaps them all together would scare off any potential intruders.

Volepaw, below Tanglethroat, clears her throat, paws kneading the sliver-coated grass.
"Fading," she murmurs, soft as the white tom's steps, "Why did you bring us here?"

"You will see in due time." The pale tom replied, dark blue eyes too much like a void for Volepaw's comfort. "You are young and irresponsible. The secrets we hold can destroy the forest and cannot under any circumstance be shared."
The words prickle underneath the tabby shecat's pelt, pulling her ears back. The only reason she was here was because she snuck out, after all. Could she make it back?

Does Fading have... power?

The question sits, and lingers deep inside her mind as she watches the three toms- Waspjaw was the deputy of Antlerclan, renound for his strength, and Tanglethroat was the pacifistic medicine cat of Royalclan. 

(Seeing them both together was a wake up call. The world didn't work in the same day-night way she had been taught.)

Meanwhile, Fading had swept over to the other toms, dripping whiskers a glimmer of moonlight in the still air; his fur was a brand of white unlike what Volepaw had ever seen within the clans, and somewhere within her question-filled mind, another springs to play. 
Was Fading a kittypet?
If he was, how did he know?

 

[wikipedia [he/him]]

CHAPTER ONE

Fawnpaw - blue-gray tabby she-cat with forest green eyes (Ivoryclan)
Oddpaw - dark black tabby tom with one lime green eye and one ocean blue eye (Antlerclan)

Fawnpaw sat in her nest, the other apprentices still asleep in the downy nests- and she was thinking.
Puddlehawk clearly hated her, didn't he? Always came in and made excuses. 
No matter, she would surpass him- train herself. 

Usually apprentices would jump for joy if their mentor decided not to train them for a day; but not Fawnpaw, she was ambitious.
She would never become deputy if she was never trained, and she would never surpass Puddlehawk if she didn't train. 

With a frown, she left the comfort of the nest, shaking off whatever feathers were left; and still no Puddlehawk. She gave a growl, low in her throat- where was that puffball of a deputy off to now? It would be bearable if the moon-damned tom actually taught her anything, but no- he decided he had to wander off at all the wrong moments! 
Her blue-grey tail lashed, and with a huff, she turns to the russety tom sat upon the dusty rock- great. A meeting. 

Upon the rock, Ratstar stares blankly down at the gathering of cats; they bustle and murmur, fearful eyes glancing up at him. 
He takes a breath. 
"Today, Puddlehawk went missing."

There was a gasp, rippling along and through the group- Fawnpaw let out her own gasp, less from shock (no, that was her paws moving on their own, guiding her to the thickened forest) than just following. 

A plump squirrel skittered through her paws, snapping her out of her daze; she blinks, turning with deliberation- only to slip, landing nose-down in a puddle of mud. 

From across the border, Oddpaw snorted at the younger apprentice, wide innocent eyes glittering when she whipped her head (teeth bared) around at him.

"I used to fall on my face all the time as a kitten." He chuckled as he stepped closer to the border, a grin spread across his maw. "I guess some of us just take a little longer to figure out how to control their balance." He turned his head so only his lime green eye was visible, cloudy and sick. It made Fawnpaw shudder,  and her pelt bristled, her blue-tipped fur standing on end.

"What are you doing?" She hisses, unsheathing her claws- hunting wasn't particularly her strong suit, but fighting definitely was. "And what are you?" 

The black tabby gives her an amused grin. "Oddpaw, at your disposal." He mock-bows, his wide tail splayed out behind him. 

Fawnpaw, against her will, gives him an amused smirk that flits across her face (like a butterfly before a kit snatched it up, wings torn and crumpled), before landing on a wrinkling of her nose. 
 "Why are you so close to our border?" She hissed lashing her tail, leaves whisked up by the air it left behind. "How do I know you're not spying?" She spat the last word out, eyes narrowed and glinting. 

Oddpaw feigns surprise. "Me? A spy? I would never!" 

 "You didn't ask my question. Why are you so close to our border?" 

"Can't a cat go for a nice walk these days?" 

"Not when you're an apprentice and so clearly lying." 

The black tom smirks. "Well, you can't tell a squirrel from a mouse if I take your last display as proof." 

Fawnpaw fights back the urge to snarl as she puffs up her chest and strides towards Oddpaw, paw raised- and she leaps, unsheathed claws colliding with the arrogant apprentice, bowling him over and dangerously close to the ledge separating Royalclan from Ivoryclan.  "Go on then," She seethes, looking down, suppressing the thrill that being in charge brought. "Brag, won't you?"

"I think I will." He says, a smirk alighting onto his maw.

Fawnpaw digs her claws in deeper in his scruff, satisfied when he winced in pain.