Needle

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 Needle

I was being hunted.

I ran through the forest, paws thrumming over the ground, heart racing, feeling the terror as I was pursued by my own Clanmates.

Glancing backwards over my shoulder, I saw them chasing me, their fur bushed out like they were chasing a monster, rather than one of their own. I could pick out a few of them: Firestar, the Clan leader, in the front; her deputy, Birchleaf, just behind her; and all of my so-called friends, warriors and apprentices, beyond that.

It seemed like the whole Clan, except for the queens, kits, and elders, was chasing me.

They were out for my blood.

I ran, able to avoid obstacles such as fallen trees or branches that the Clan as a group struggled to fit through. But they had more cats, and they were being driven by the pain of my… my mistake….

I didn’t want to think about that. I just kept running for my life.

Finally, we reached the borders of the huge Clan territory. They, bound by their oath as a Clan, had to stop at the border; I, no longer bound by such rules and regulations, was able to sprint over the border and into the surrounding territory.

“You haven’t won,” a cat spat from the other side of the invisible line. “We’ll be watching for you, traitor!” I immediately recognized the voice as that of Flameheart, who had been one of my closest friends in the Clan. My heart sank; if even my friends had turned against me, what was left for me?

“Silence!” Firestar raised her voice for attention. “But they have a point, Frostfall.” She almost sounded regretful as she gave me my warrior name, but she wasn’t regretful enough to let me stay. “You have become an enemy of the Clan, and we will treat you as such. If you come back into our borders, we will have to chase you out with whatever force is necessary. As an outlawed cat, you will be able to choose one advantage to help you in your solitary life; such is the bond of our oath as Clan cats.”

“I choose to be invincible to the cold,” I replied immediately. I recognized that immunity to the cold would help me in all the harsh leaf-bares to come.

“So be it, by the will of StarClan.” Firestar bowed her head, and immediately I could feel a strange new power rushing all through my body: from my paws to my tailtip, all the way up to my ears, and everywhere in between. It was… a part of me, one that I had just come to realize. I suddenly figured that maybe this new life as a loner would be beneficial in ways that I had not previously seen.

“Now,” continued Firestar, “you will be bound by our oath, but in a different way than we are. You will be free to wander wherever you wish; however, if you break any of the rules that accompany our oath, you will be punished by StarClan or other oath-followers around you as though you were still a member of our Clan. Remember this, Frostfall, for it will serve you well to do so.”

I bowed my head, and I heard the sounds of pawsteps over the undergrowth as the Clan started to move away from the border. “Wait,” I suddenly blurted out.

Some of them turned back to look at me; most of them stayed where they were, pawing the ground impatiently and murmuring amongst themselves. “Yes?” Firestar meowed impatiently, any trace of sympathy gone. “What is it?”

I shook my head. “Don’t forget me,” I begged. “Please?”

The murmuring grew louder. “I can’t promise that,” Firestar spat. “Most every cat will try to erase you from their memories, myself included. I have no control over what other cats think.”

With that, she flicked her tail, and the Clan was gone.

That was moons ago – no, ages ago. I was an apprentice: Frostpaw. I had friends. I learned quickly and fought well. I was everything my mentor, Featherflight, wanted in an apprentice… at least until I was framed for the murder of a warrior.

I remember the scene perfectly. I was patrolling with two warriors and another apprentice. Everything was going well: the borders were secure, and an abundance of prey was scrabbling about in the undergrowth.

But then everything changed, when we stumbled upon a body: it was a white warrior, dead and covered in blood, and masked in – of all things – my scent.

I tried to tell everyone that it wasn’t my fault, and for a while it looked like cats were starting to believe me. But then another cat – a dark gray one this time – turned up dead, also bathed in my scent, and that was it for my innocence.

For some reason, I didn’t try to deny it after that. Head bowed and tail tucked, I allowed myself to be ushered into the Clan’s oath-breaker den, which is guarded night and day by as many cats as can be spared from patrols and such.

I stayed there for a while, content to just be alive, but then one day I made a mistake. Tired of being cooped up in a dark, small, filthy den, I convinced one of the guards to let me out just to walk around, shake out my fur, and get some clean water from the river. During the trip, the guard claimed to have lost sight of me over a small hill for just a second.

The next day, another dead cat was found in that exact spot.

To say the least, that was the end for me. It was the last straw; according to the guard, I had snuck away to murder another cat, and that was not going to be tolerated. So I was chased off of Clan territory, given my warrior name, and cast out of memory.

And it stayed that way until I died.

 to splinter ---