"I wonder where they are..." [Ferneh! Come!]

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

The Mirror Lake was huge.
It was a simple, comprehensible fact. The vast immensity of the reflective waters, tainted silver-white even when the sun shone full on its surface, was something to marvel at. It stretched on and on, seemingly forever, into the far horizon. It was a wonder that no one had decided to call it 'The Mirror Sea', looking at its size. But, there was also the fact that the water was neither salty nor pure, and plain undrinkable, or at least to most cats. Some felines with particularly strange tastes were able to drink it. Many cats, either way, wondered who had decided the names to these StarClan lands, The Mirror Lake, The Far Prairie, The Hunting Grounds... who had first arrived to the territories of StarClan, exploring and naming everything in its path? Who had been the One? The first Clan cat ever to die? It was hard to tell, with so many cats all over the place, from long ago to the present day. Maybe, if you get old enough in StarClan, you move on to another Clan, another place of rest for the oldest of the old, the silver-hued elders who have lived thousands upon thousands of moons, their blinded eyes misted over with a gray veil, ears forever useless, just sitting around and dreaming for the rest of their existence.
Ugh.
The muscly form of an ebony she-cat sat as still as a stone statue at the rim of the lake, gazing deep down into its surface, as if she was trying to pierce through the thick silver cloud coating the underside of the water. Intense gray eyes kept on staring, fixing the liquid, and it would be expected that, at any moment, the spot of water the feline was looking at would burst and clear to reveal what was underneath. But, before anything of the sort happened to break the female's concentration, she sighed reluctantly, shifting her oculars away from the mesmerizing sight of the moonglow on the water. The sun, strangely, hung high overhead, not a single shred of its shining golden form showing in the still coating of platinum covering the water. Night or day, it would always be the same. What a mystical place. With a wry grin, the she-cat made up her own name for the place, checking the orientation of the sun compared to where it had been before.
The-place-where-time-flies-like-a-hawk.
That's poetic, Claw. Where'd you get it?
With a start, the female jumped to her feet, raven head snapping around to stare incredulously at the gray-black form of a tom behind her. After a short moment of speechless shock, the she-cat, Clawfoot, cried out joyfully, a wide grin of happiness splitting her onyx maw in half. Laughing with delight, pale ashen eyes looking the male up and down as she advanced, a glint of amused surprise still shining inside the depths of her oculars. She nudged the tom's cheek affectionately, stepping back again to survey him, head shaking in mild disbelief at what she saw. He was a simple male, though slightly wiry and slim for a tom, with a stark-black coat. His muzzle was covered with short, somber stone-hued hairs, and each of his eyes were surrounded with a thin circlet of ashen tones. As for his orbs, they were a soft blue color, outlined with pearly silver, casting gentle kindness around their oval forms. But, for some reason, Clawfoot seemed amazed to see him standing there in front of her, and slightly worried at the same time. A concerned frown developed upon her brow, creasing it into many wrinkles, until a tense wave of dark fur bent her forehead. She opened her maw a couple of times, as if she wanted to say something but kept on forgetting it at the last moment. Closing her mouth and clearing her throat loudly, she finally said what was on her mind.
"Why are you here, Spider? You're not supposed to be... to be dead. I'm sure of that."
Her frown increased, and it looked more like a pout by now than an angered expression. Her eyes, turned from cheerful to an almost pleading glimmer, were fixing him intently, even more than when she had stared at the surface of the lake, wondering about the origins of its name. The one named Spider, or Spiderfang, shuffled nervously under her insistent stare, one forepaw rubbing uncomfortably against his other frontal leg as his pale, icey gaze flickered away from Clawfoot's penetrating stare. He'd always been a bit unnerved by the way his sister could stare with any expression, angry, sad, pleading, happy, anything, and make the one her attention was turned to shift anxiously as if she had threatened their very life. And this still lived in him, even when he was dead and high up in StarClan, where he could not die anyway. What a strange feeling, but familiar all the same. Returning his attention to the matter at hand, the charcoal tom mumbled something under his breath, and his sister pricked an ear to catch it though she failed. Putting on a polite but demanding full-toothed grin, closing her eyes partly, she mewed a short word in response.
"Pardon?"
Spiderfang nervously glanced over at Clawfoot's gleaming ivory fangs, gulped audibly, and spilled the beans.
"I-I-Y-You died, and-and I couldn't st-stay, so... so I had to come to you. Please understand, sis."
An imploring high-pitched note entered his voice at his last words, and Claw shook her had regretfully, sighing with eyes closed lightly as if in exasperation, but obviously relieved by what Spider had told her. At least he hadn't been murdered or anything. However, she still turned back to face her brother, and, putting a stern tone in her voice, lectured the sorry-looking tom.
"You should have kept on living. You know our bond would keep us close together. You shouldn't have suicided just to get back to me. Living your life is more important."
His ears flattened to his head in shame at her reprimands, and he bowed his head, cheeks burning with embarrassment. A faint sniffle of misery echoed around the remaining silence, and Claw, her tender heartstrings plucked by this plain show of sadness, padded quietly up to her sibling's side to comfort him. Giving him a quick lick on the ear, she murmured soothing words in his mind, pressing her flank against his pelt. Spider returned a hesitant smile, thanks shining in his ice-chip oculars. The two had a sibling love for each other, and it was strengthened considerably by the fact that they could speak to each other mentally. They would never give it up.
Ssssh. It's all right. Just don't act so rash next time.
I don't think there will be a 'next time', but all right, he replied with a happy grin, encouraged by the fact that he was forgiven. The two siblings laughed, Claw rolling her eyes comically at the same time, and they both got to their feet in unison, padding quietly to the edge of the Lake once more.
A sigh escaped Clawfoot's maw, and Spiderfang tilted his head to the side questioningly, asking what was wrong. His sister smiled at his attempt to make things better after his mistake, let another sigh slip past her throat, and mumbled a sentence under her breath that Spider once just caught.
"I wonder where they are..."
"Who?"
"My grandkids. Cinder and Darkness. Bad past, good future, I think."
"Ah, yes. The little ball of annoying fluff and the brotherly headstrong one? I think Darkness inherited your stare," he joked, nudging her cheek comfortingly. Claw laughed at his crude jest, nudging him back, and then looked back down to the mirror of the water. A longing look entered her eyes, and she placed her maw above the silver-hued liquid, taking in a breath to pronounce a name.

Bursting through the grasses like an orange whirlwind of flailing legs, Spiderthorn stumbled into the clearing, tripping over another rock in her path and landing flat on her face. It all happened quite quickly, and, as the older she-cat began mumbling darkly about stupid rocks, the siblings stared wide-eyed at her, Clawfoot completely forgetting what she was about to say. Then, remembering his manners, Spider ran up to the female, helping her get back up to his feet as he quickly passed over the introductions.
"Here, I'll help you. Name's Spiderfang, by the way, and that's Clawfoot over there. My sister," he explained as Spiderthorn finally struggled to her feet, dusting off her own pelt and still grumbling unhappily. When Spider spoke, the usually shy she-cat flashed him a bright grin, handing out a paw in greeting.
"H'llo there! My name's Spiderthorn, and the name of my mate, who has seemingly gotten lost in the endless reaches of the Far Prairie but will probably find his way here soon, is Dragonfang."
Spiderfang cautiously took hold of the older female's paw, and she began shaking it heartily before dropping her paw back to the ground.
"By the way, have you seen him? Reddish amber coat, crimson paws? Sorta tan yellow eyes?"
"Uh... no. No, I haven't."
Seeing that her brother was getting himself into a fix, Clawfoot quickly broke up the conversation by walking over and flicking Spiderthorn's shoulder with an ebony tail, signalling her to follow.
"Come. You can stay with us while we wait for Dragonfang," she mewed cheerfully, leading the female to the edge of the Lake. They sat down in unison, a steady, but not oppressive, silence settling between them. The wait had started.
She seems nice.
Remember that Clan thing? You thought it was nice. Nearly got each other and Rainkit killed. Now, talking about Rainkit, do you remember what he was named as a warrior?
Rainwhisker.
Ah. Thanks.

[Fernpaw]

A rustling sounded in the shadows, to the right of the trio. The sound of thunder reached their ears, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Suddenly, out of the golden stalks burst a large reddish tom. He landed lightly on his paws, amber eyes twinkling in amusement as Dragonfang surveyed the dust on his mate's coat. He tutted in exasperation, "Clumsy paws!" he sighed dramatically, "When will you ever learn that cats land on their paws, not their face!" Large pillars paced over to the three, where the tom dipped his head in greeting to the two young ones.

"Hello there!" Dragonfang mewed cheerfully. "Spiderthorn hasn't given you any trouble, has she? An absolute rebel, that's what she is." He poked her in the belly, "I said to wait, but did she listen? Nooo, had to chase after her in over-drive speed." He looked at the two young warriors, a mock wounded expression in his face. "Look at this," he stared down at his blood-red stockings, "My paws are bleeding!" He glared in "fury" at Spiderthorn, "You made my beautiful paws bleed," he staggered, swaying comically, "Lights fading . . . pain . . . loss of blood . . . aaarrrrggghh!" This statement ended in a theatrical graon, followed by Dragonfang toppling to the ground, all four legs stuck out stiffly in front of him. After a few minutes he jumped to his feet, looking around questioningly, "What? No applause?" He was clearly going to add more, but he paused.

A slight rustling reached their ears. Dragonfang pricked his ears in curiosity, sniffing the air for a hint at who this cat might be. But the wind was against them, blowing both scents away from each other, so that neither could smell the other.

Suddenly, a lithe gray shape slipped out of the grasses, mumbling, " . . . and why? Where's there catity ((I don't know, something like humanity))? I never heard such a load of crowfood in my entire life, I . . ." Rainwhisker broke off when he realized he had an audience. Blushing, he averted his gaze and stared hard at the loamy earth.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

((xDDDDDD
I laughed like a farggin' idiot when I read your post. Ya always know how to squeeze an ol' hoot outta me, ya do xP))

"I learned that years ago, but it doesn't look like my paws retained the information," Spiderthorn replied to Dragonfang's first joke, sticking a thin pink tongue out from her maw impudently, a playful grin creeping up the sides of her slim face. Now that the red-amber tom was here, making his usual sarcastic jests and acting like his average own self, she was already feeling much better. Mischievous insults were whirling through her mind as soon as her beloved mate had sent out his first remark, witty repartee whizzing inside her thoughts like bees around a prairie of flowers. Maw opened once more, the tips of her gleaming ivory fangs showing clearly beneath up-wurved lips, and sound slipped out of her throat loaded with mocking cracks.
"I do believe that you couldn't reach over-drive if you tried every day. The fastest I've seen you go, an ancient elder snail could've beaten you across two tail-lengths. And you never said wait," she finished, a mock pout curling her lower lip. An indignant snort escaped her open mouth, though the hint of a giggle lodged inside its disgruntled depths betrayed her obvious pleasure at baiting the tom in this amusing way. Clawfoot and Spiderfang, who had at first been mistified by the biting comments that the two felines were throwing at each other, began understanding their way of communication, and faint smiles of mirth started curving the corners of the pair's mouthes. They glanced at each other, laughter shining in their pale oculars, ice-chip orbs facing ash-hued spheres. Turning back towards the friendly banter, they listened intently, grinning to themselves as the repartee bounced from red-amber feline to dark orange female.
Rolling her tangerine-gold eyes in a mocking gesture of scorn, Spiderthorn continued replying to Dragonfang's playful insults and entertaining acting.
"Bleed? Phah! You would stop running in every direction before doing that. You're too proud of your... 'beautiful paws'."
She returned the earlier poke to her belly, aiming straight and true. However, her action was stopped short as she saw her mate's attention swerve to something else inside the grasses. As the lithe gray form of another feline slipped out of the prairie into the clearing that surrounded the Lake, Spiderthorn was able to see the tom who had made the noise, and the two warriors beside her were able to recognize their old friend.
Clawfoot was the first one to react, crying out joyfully just as she had when she had seen her brother.
"Rainwhisker! You're here! What are you doing, anyway?"

[Fernpaw]

((Hee hee. Thankeys. I always fancied the thought as a comedian. I think I missed my calling, I'm meant to be a comedian, not an athlete. Lol. Just kidding! But thank you anyway!))

Dragonfang instantly relaxed as the two young warriors called out joyful recognition to what appeared to be an old friend. This tom was no threat. He was just lost and alone, like all the cats who first came to StarClan.

Rainwhisker perked up his ears and looked up, disbelief slowly turning to joy. "Spiderfang! Clawfoot!" He cried, leaping forward. "I can't believe I've found you!" As to Clawfoot's question, Rainwhisker closed his eyes, whiskers trembling slightly. "I-I don't know. All I remember is grief, you two had gone and died or killed yourselves by then." He glared accusingly at Spiderfang, "And left me all alone! We were friend in life, I would've gone down with you or thrown myself off a cliff, or whatever suicide you did. Then, I don't remember anything after that. It's kinda like a haze, all I know is that a wandered way far into our territory, and the next thing I knew I was at the Thunderpath. Well, I just kept walking. Didn't stop to look or anything. Kinda stupid, I know. Then," the young warrior scrunched his eyes shut, concentrating fiercely. "Well, I remember this screech, and then something hit me with a bang. I remember seeing blood on the Thunderpath, but I didn't know it was mine. Then I heard shouting, but I guess I died."

He looked around, "Don't let me interrupt your fun! What were you all doing?" Rainwhisker suddenly remembered the two senior warriors behind them. He hurried forward, dipping his head in an elegant gesture. "How do you do?" he inquired, all informality gone. "You're Dragonfang?"

Dragonfang nodded, "I remember you. You were talking to Ziggu and Moonpelt when Spiderthorn and I left for the Pool. So you're Rainwhisker?"

Rainwhisker nodded. He turned toward Spiderthorn and spoke hesitantly, "I hope my bursting in didn't interrupt your play."

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

((Oops xP Sorreh for the late answer.))

"Hum... hrrm... actually, I didn't end very differently from you," Spiderfang admitted sheepishly to his old friend, flattening his ears to the back of his skull with an ashamed expression on his face. If his dark fur had not been covering every inch of his wiry body, the reddening blush creeping up his skin would have been painfully obvious. Clawfoot, however, did not care much about what had happened, since they were all reunited anyway, and gave her brother a playful nudge, sighing in mock exasperation. The smaller, though not younger, warrior gave her another hesitant smile, though he didn't look very happy with himself on several matters, mainly the fact that he felt as if he had betrayed his sister by going out an suiciding and so caused the death of his best [and only] friend. One warrior lost in battle, and probably more besides, and then two more dead in suicides, one because he couldn't live without his sister, the other because he had lost both of his friends. It must have been a harsh day for ShadowClan.
While this was going on, Rainwhisker had already turned to Spiderthorn and asked his hesitant question, waiting for an answer. The mud-striped female placed a single unsheathed claw of ebonite on her lower lip, looking as if she was in intense concentration, though the slight twist of a smile to the corner of her maw betrayed her serious attitude. Finally, not really caring anymore if any single cat thought her intelligent or not now that she had her mate, she decided to answer and lifted her paw from her chin, sending a flashing grin at the younger warrior.
"Of course not! Or, at least, not me," she continued, sending another grin in Dragonfang's direction. Half-closed amber-yellow oculars intensified the insistent curl to her lips, and her smile got only wider at each second, revealing every inch of her beautiful two-row fang show. Gleaming ivory enamel showed careful care of her canines, and a healthy, balanced diet of many different prey. However, she wasn't trying to impress the onlookers with a dazzling smile of perfect pearly whites. It looked more as if she was trying to threaten her beloved one into saying exactly what she had said, except for the fact that she would never menace the one she loved. Her grin did look a bit too persistent, though.

[Fernpaw]

At Spiderthorn's "menacing" grin, Dragonfang adopted a wide-eyed, innocent look. He made a great show of staring to his right, his left, then finally behind him before he turned back to his mate, amber eyes wide in innocence. Silently, he lifted a paw, pointing it at himself while mouthing "Me?" Dropping his charade like a red hot brick, he mewed warmly, "Whatever gave you the idea that I could actually be displeased with anything? You didn't bother us a bit."

Rainwhisker breathed a sigh of relief. He turned and nuzzled his friends, a sudden inspiration coming to him. Remembering the time they first met---him as a kit and they as newly-made apprentices---he leaped onto Clawfoot, shouting, "Tickle tickle!" Yes, we all know that this was not the proper way for a warrior to behave. But Rainwhisker was not a regular warrior, he was a warrior who had just been reunited with his friends after long moons of searching. No, he did not plan on acting dignified until later. If at all.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

A swift nod of Spiderthorn's shadowed orange cranium made in plain that she was pleased with her mate's answer, and a quick grin cleared any thoughts of suspicion that could have been wandering through an onlooker's head. It was all a game for the two felines, baiting each other, insulting this or that about their jesting contest opponent, comparing one and the other to a snail, a badger or a worm in the earth, and it would be hard for them to drop out of the play, since they had been engaged in it already for a couple of hundred moons. They just loved this way of communication, since it had been the one to show them what they felt towards each other, or, at the very least, it seemed so to the earth-streaked she-cat. She adored these play-times, even if they were kittish, stupid or idiotic to some others of her Clan, and would never spend a day without either going through them with her beloved tom, insulting, comparing, laughing, or looking back to ones from long ago that she clearly remembered. And never, not even if she was proposed the rule of StarClan itself, would she give up the privilege of talking and revealing her creative side in that strange manner she had of sizing herself up against all opposing creatures. She still remembered the fox attack the two had endured long ago, from two adults and their young pups, and how Dragonfang and she had still been able to joke afterwards. It was something that not the greatest gift, rank nor power in the world would ever rip away from her ancient heart, and she would treasure it forever.
She twitched slightly in surprise as her thoughts drifted away from their current path to screech to a halt on an earlier road of winding dust and shadows. Remembering what they were here originally for, the she-cat placed her amber-yellow gaze upon her love's own oculars, and spoke once more, maw opening again.
"Dragonfang! We forgot to check in the Lake!"

As soon as Rainwhisker pounced on top of the eldest ebony sibling, Clawfoot, the one being tickled, burst out laughing maniacally at the torture of claws and toes wriggling on her skin. She remembered this treatement well, just as Spiderfang remembered, since she had made him endure it and he had leaped on her while doing it many times in their kithood or apprenticeship. The burly female pushed her hind legs upwards, seeking to connect lightly with her friend's belly to push him off, and held her breath long enough to note his position and the way he was.
Suddenly, out of the blue, the younger onyx-hued feline jumped playfully towards his platinum-toned friend's frame, hoping to push him off and egg him into a playful fight together. Though they were warriors just as Rainwhisker was, it didn't mean they had to act all serious and disdainful towards younger felines of their own rank. They loved the game, and, just as Spiderthorn's endless insulting plays, would never give it up, not in the last life they had, nor this one, nor the next, if there was such a place. And so, grinning hugely like young kits on parade, they continued enjoying themselves even in the afterlife. Some cats have it better than others.

[Fernpaw]

Dragonfang froze, stiffening slightly. For once, he appeared almost serious. "You're right," he murmured. He didn't particularly fancy going down to the Pool. He hung back, fur bristling uneasily, "Come on! What's the rush? We're ageless! Let's check back in a few hundred moons, there's no difference!" In truth, he was trying to hide from what might be revealed in the pool. Would they find they're descendants turning to the dark side? Or would they see a happy family? Would they find a dead corpse, rotting somewhere in the shadows where it had been picked off by NightClan? The possibilites were endless.

Rainwhisker leaped away, snorting as Clawfoot was reduced to a giggling heap of fur. He narrowed his eyes, creeping towards Spiderfang. Powerful pillars hurled lithe frame forward onto the back of his lifetime friend. "Surprise!" he yowled, amber oculars sparkling. Sheathing his claws, he proceeded to bat at Spiderfang's ears, snarling playfully.

"Can't catch me!" he cried, leaping away, darting in circles around the two siblings.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

Spiderfang had missed his leap, but that didn't mean he would stop. Not in the least. Growling playfully as Rainwhisker batted his ebony ears, the wiry tom swiped a paw back towards the other male, a mock scowl pasted on his serious features. When the warrior began running in a never-ending circle around the onyx-hued siblings, the smaller feline's warm sky-blue oculars started following the darting cat along, narrowed slightly in concentration. A sneaky smile began spreading on his somber maw, and the sinew bunched and coiled beneath his short raven coat, ready to release him like a freed spring into the fresh diurnal air, speeding towards Rainwhisker like a bullet from a gun.
Meanwhile, Clawfoot had also begun preparing her attack. She had leaped to her feet the moment her friend had jumped off of her chest, and was now kneading the ground in anticipation of the 'attack' to come. Ashen orbs fixed upon the swift figure of the platinum tom, paws of pure ebonite gripping the ground with astounding strength, she began gathering all of the force she had inside her heavily-muscled body, burly sinew already coming together in tight bunches of great and incredible power.

"But they're not. Our little ones are not."
A pleading expression had replaced the joyful one upon Spiderthorn's usually smiling features, and the grin displayed on her maw had lessened so quickly that it looked as if her fangs had never gleamed to the light of the sun. Golden gaze stared mournfully at her beloved tom, wishing she could say outright that she needed to know what was happening to her grandkits, but not wanting to make her mate saddened or angry neither. It was quite a predicament for a she-cat such as her. She knew that the two siblings were not dead, that they had survived, otherwise she would have felt it somewhere deep inside her heart. Maybe Dragonfang did not have that sensibility to his descendance, but Spiderthorn did.
She took a step closer to the powerful male, intense yellow oculars boring into her mate's pale golden orbs, and soon covered the distance that separated them. Settling herself at the tom's side, pressing her muzzle into his shoulder, as if trying to comfort him, tell him that everything would be just fine with the young felines, or even convince herself that she would know if anything had happened to them. Anything bad. A single word slipped past the large defence of gleaming ivory teeth, carrying so much hope inside it that she could not help but only whisper it into the silent wind.
"Please?"
She buried her nose deeper into Dragonfang's red-hued amber coat, pressing her flank against his own in an effort to get closer to him, to the one she loved so deeply she could never let go.
"For me."

[Fernpaw]

Rainwhisker laughed in Clawfoot's direction, nimbly dodging around her bulk. He had no idea what was coming. He was a whirlwind, in out, then back in again. Swiping at her body and face with sheathed paws. Even sheathed, though, his paws--when used with enough force---could stun an average cat. Rainwhisker had no intention of knocking his new-found friend senseless. He just wanted to bug her. Get under her skin a little. No one knew how to irritate Clawfoot like Rainwhisker. The young warrior laughed, "Being in StarClan must've slowed you up! A legless fly could beat you up!" Laughing, he lightly boxed her ears once more.

Dragonfang's eyes widened. He sought desperately for a last thread of hope. "Yes . . . but . . ." he tried desperately to find a sound argument. "But then, we'd get to actually see them! They'd be with us! We'd all be happy! We don't need to go and see. We'll see them soon!" He hoped this would convince Spiderthorn enough to have her give up her idea. Although he knew this was next to impossible. Once his mate grabbed at an idea, it would take a natural disaster to have her relinquish her hopes.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

Spiderthorn let her muzzle escape her mate's fur long enough to give him another pleading look, eyebrows descending on her earth-streaked face like steep hills on a plain of orange grass, and then pressed herself closer to the tom, cheek buried inside his warm coat. The smell of his pelt, so familiar to her after all of these moons, comforted her slightly, but she still desired to see her little ones, to know if they were well and truly safe at that precise moment. She could not wait for them to come to her. It would take too long. Much too long. What if they needed her help? What if they were in danger? She had to look inside the Lake, had to pronounce their names softly over the smooth, platinum surface of the great pool of shining water. Something inside her was telling her that one, at least one, needed her to be there. But she couldn't do it without Dragonfang's accord. It was something they had to do together.
"Not soon. The time of their demise is far away. I can feel it. I can, Dragon. And I need to see what is happening. Please? Please, just for me? You don't have to watch," she added, landing a soft paw upon the tom's muscled shoulder. Her sun-kissed gaze looked upwards again, trying to catch her mate's eye, oculars begging for him to see how much she needed this affirmation, this feeling of safety for her descendance she had in her heart.

Landing lightly upon the hard-packed ground a spinning on his feet as soon as Rainwhisker changed direction, the ebony tom turned again to aim once more. The younger warrior was quick on his feet, and had gained a lot of strength in his stay in the living world. Spiderfang had never been much of a fighter, though his hunting skills had been remarkable from the beginning. Some felines were only made for particular jobs in their life. But still, he strived on, and this was a good trait to have in any warrior or apprentice, or even the smallest kit. To feel that you must always go higher, defeat past records and expectations, that is the true meaning of competition. A fight against you very self.
This time, instead of crouching and leaping, the lithe male bounded over to his friend, aiming a casual paw at the younger warrior's passing head. He gave Rainwhisker a good ear batting, then jumped away, crouching again as he faced the other tom. Clawfoot, who had rolled out of her best friend's way when he began swiping at her ears, rolled her eyes in their sockets as she watched the play. She was finished for the moment. Her idle gaze swept across the clearing, landing shortly upon the two figures of the mates nearby. Spiderthorn, a slim she-cat with a fiery coat, so soft and gentle yet spunky as a newborn kit. Dragonfang, muscled and heavy with his flame-colored pelt, kind and caring but still playful as any apprentice. Different and alike in more ways than one.

[Fernpaw]

Dragonfang heaved a heavy sigh. "You always could wrap me around your paw." He rasped a warm tongue over Spiderthorn's ear, a low purr rumbling in his chest like a small earthquake. He padded down to the Pool's shore, before turning back to look at his mate. "You coming?"

Rainwhisker took advantage of Clawfoot's lapse of attention to hurl himself onto her back. "Yaaaahh!" he yowled in her face, before leaping away. "Can't catch me!" His head still reeling from Spiderfang's good-natured cuff, he stumbled into his friend, crashing headfirst into his chest. He tumbled backwards, landing heavily on his side. An "Uuumphf!" rose into the air, followed by stillness. Rainwhisker allowed himself the luxury of a deep groan before silence. For an extra effect, he gave a deep sigh, as if he had just died. The hard part was holding his breath. The warrior hoped that no one decided to check his pulse to see if he was still alive.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

As soon as the tom began moving towards the vast, silver expanse of the Lake, a wide smile began spreading across Spiderthorn pleading features. A double row of sharp fangs glinted between the dark orange halves of her face, telling of the joy pounding through her veins as she swiftly jumped to her feet and leaped to her beloved mate's side. She would now be able to see her little ones, the kits of her daughter, and know what was happening to any one of them. Pressing her muzzle once more into Dragonfang's shoulder, purring a rough 'thank-you' as she nuzzled him with complete adoration, she drew away her skull from his side for a moment, looking upwards with unhidden love shining clear in tawny-yellow eyes.
"I came," she whispered simply, then scooted closer to the muscled tom, before dipping her head down close to the reflecting surface of the Lake. Maw opened slightly, widening to let an easier passage for the word she would speak, the tips of serrated fangs glinting faintly underneath her lips. The breath finally breezed out of her lugs, whistling slightly against the back of her teeth, and landing softly with ripples multiplying by a thousand-fold on the smooth surface of the strange water.
"Spiderbreath."
The platinum hues of the lake began swirling along in a wide circle, aided by the many ripples created with Spiderthorn's breath of a word. Colors changed, veering from a flat silver to bright oranges, crimson, and different tones of browns and yellows. Gold then came to rest upon the settling picture, and a faint pinpoint of black. The feline's face completed, shining yellow eyes looking outwards with a strange hope and joy intermixed inside them, accompanied by unnatural fear, ripples of tangerine and earth or sand as her body shifted slowly, with deliberate movements, the flick of a tail behind her. Her grandmother, the feline standing in front of the impressive Lake, then breathed new words upon the surface of the water.
"Let me see."
Another impressive change. Colors mixed and intertwined, morphing into new hues, more browns, gray, blue, silver and white. The picture had changed to a new one, just as the words.
Now there was a moving photo of the ShadowClan camp, with dens at the side, padding cats, and three more felines in the middle of the area that was being showed by the Lake. One tom, unknown to her, a she-cat, also unknown, and her dear little Spiderbreath right beside them. The male and Spiderthorn's ancestor were both looking at the last female with respect in their eyes, and speaking to her. It was obvious that this should be the Leader. Smiling widely again, warm eyes blinking affectionately at the young female warrior, the aged StarClan feline bent over the water once more to whisper the second of the kits' name.
"Soul."

Clawfoot jumped in surprise as an ear-splitting yell echoed against her sensitive head, and whirled around with a questioning look on her mocked pained face. There was Rainwhisker, stumbling about from the blow he had received by Spiderfang's paw, and looking quite comical with it. The twitching hint of a smile stretched away at the corner of her mouth, and she tried to hold it back before letting it invade her face. By now, the silver tom had already pretended to die, laying down on the ground while holding his breath, and the ebony female's younger brother was poking him with an amused expression on his face. The warrior she-cat rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, and bounded over to the two males, pushing slightly at her friend before declaring,
"Cummon, Rain. We know yer alive. Figuratively speaking."

[Fernpaw]

Dragonfang crouched by the edge of the Pool, as if by being closer he could touch his offspring. When he saw the shape of Spiderbreath, he leaned forward, till his nose actually touched the rim of the Pool. Waves rippled across it's surface, but then it stilled and once again became as smooth as glass. He sighed, she was safe. When his mate spoke the word, "Soul," the muscular brute stiffened his shoulders. He had always known that she was not the kind-hearted and jolly kit that most descendants of the two were. She had had something sinister in her, but he had never found out what. Now he would see, but Dragonfang wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Rainwhisker remained completely still, still not breathing. When he felt like he could hold his breath no longer or he would surely die again, he gasped adn sucked in great lungfuls of air. He mewed with a weakness that was only partly pretend from lack of oxygen, "You have . . ."---here he stopped to cough, choke, gasp and wheeze---"resurrected me. Your words . . . have made me live again." More wheezing, "I am . . . forever in your debt."

Dragonfang gathered his courage together, and this time it was he who spoke the words, "Let me see." Ripples danced across the Pool, the image wavered and disappeared. But another replaced it. Soul, surrounded by cats with evil purposes and intents, fighting. An emaciated form was clawing at her body, but his descendant was fighting back doggedly. Only now, Dragonfang was ashamed to call her his descendant. He knew the truth, even if Spiderthorn would not. He knew that Soul had turned. She had turned to the dark side.

((The ending sounds a bit like the "Use the Force" from StarWars or something, but that just popped into my head. Sorry.))

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

((Not at all :3 It's exactly like that. Soul is a sorta... dark feline.))

Clawpaw cocked an eyebrow at the acting feline, an amused smile playing on her usually grim or silent features, and then suddenly burst out laughing. Her strong voice, strangely deep for a female cat, but not unusual for one with such a heavily muscled form. She crumpled to the ground, sides aching from the lack of air, breath wheezing in her throat as she gasped to send wind back into her lungs, and then shooting out in more gales of laughter, rolling around with tears pricking at her eyes. It was a sight to see. A she-cat who had once been brave and boisterous, leaping hither and thither, who had then turned into a silent, stone-faced feline who hardly spoke, and that was now chuckling like a maniac, as if her very life depended on it.
Spiderfang just stared at his sister, lips forming a tight 'o' on the end of his maw, slightly confused by the amusing qualities of the moment.

Though Spiderthorn had been overjoyed and relieved when she had seen that the oldest of her grandkits was completely fine, and seemed to be getting along greatly with her natal Clan, her mood darkened considerably as she saw the new picture form at Dragonfang's short sentence. There was Soul, surrounded by malevolent cats who hid in the grasses around her crimson-streaked form, fighting for her life against another feline of silver hues. The old female hissed savagely at the attackers, feeling rage ascending up her spine in faint shivers like a devastating wave, peeved by what looked like cowardice on the side of the enemy. She could not see the fact that it was all only a test, and that was why most of them were just sitting around, but she could feel that, if a single thing went wrong, her second grandkit would die. A low growl erupted from her throat constricted by anger, threatening to grow into a crescendo of furious yowls, and she hissed a phrase low under her breath, fury at the felines who she knew came from NightClan amplifying her grating tones.
"Leave her be, you fargging spawn of evil!"