SHORT STORIES: Mistleheart

 SHORT STORIES: Mistleheart  Hello everyone! This is Mistleheart again and this is a special page for my short stories, and I don't mean short - truthfully, they will be about as long as one to two chapters each, so please don't expect short short stories as I usually do!

I also do sincerely apologize for lack of activity in the past four days, I am in China at the moment and the connection is terrible, believe me.

Snowstorm

Cloverpaw yawned, stretching her legs out as she reluctantly rose from her moss-and-stones nest in ThunderClan's camp. The pale cloud-gray tabby she-cat slowly forced herself out of her warm mossy bedding, noticing how chilled the crispy air was - much colder than the last night, for some strange reason. She also noted on how most of the nests in the warm apprentices' den were empty and stale-scented; the only present cats were Specklepaw, one of the newest apprentices, and Gorsepaw, her brother, who had recently been confined to camp. He wouldn't tell anyone why, which Cloverpaw found particularly irritating, but she didn't press the subject much; she had other matters to discuss. Specklepaw was snoring, but Gorsepaw was just beginning to shift.

"Hmm," Gorsepaw's jaws gaped in a wide yawn to match Cloverpaw's. "Your pelt looks very dirty today, you must have been rolling around in the Dirplace. And your fur is sticking up on top of your head between your ears, almost like a hedgehog's quill."

"Shut up, mousebrain," Cloverpaw snapped responsively. She casually drew her paw over her ears to smoothen down her fur. "You look like you've been wandering through a forest of kittypet slop for a moon," she countered.

Gorsepaw glanced down, his spiky, dusty fur ruffling self-consciously. "What?"

"More like Twoleg trash forest," Cloverpaw mewed, eying his white fur, which was dark with scraps of forest and soil. "Or much worse."

"Wow, I'm so flattered," Gorsepaw replied sarcastically, flicking his tail across her nose. "Thank you so much for saying that. I'm pleased now by your praise."

Cloverpaw decided that she would rather go on the dawn patrol than banter with her annoying excuse for a brother, but it was already close to sunhigh. With an amused and enraged snort, Cloverpaw forced her paws to carry her out of the den.

It might have been raining invisible hail. As soon as Cloverpaw left behind the steamy comfort of her safe haven, she regretted her decision, even if a very grumpy cat and a loudly snoring one were waiting there, snickering triumphantly.

The wind whipped harshly against Cloverpaw, combing through her short pale gray pelt. Her green eyes narrowed as she staggered forwards. The cold was the equivalent of being frozen in a solid cube of ice. It made her paws, nose-tip, ears, and tail numb with an ice-cold sensatation. Her eyes felt dried out by the wind.

"Clover - " a voice yowled at her from the edge of the wide clearing, the rest of her name cut off by an abrupt scream of wind. A misty silver figure appeared through the wind in the direction of the warriors' den. Cloverpaw squinted slightly, making out the black mottled tabby markings of Emberspirit, one of the most famed cats in all four Clans. "You have to get back into the den, there's a snowstorm coming!" she yowled over the wind towards her. "The rest of the appentices are coming back from a special hunting patrol. You can't do - "

Emberspirit's last word was drowned as a huge block of ice drove itself into the ground next to her. The silver she-cat deftly dodged another spike of ice with a sharper tip that could have blinded a cat if it had been looking up at the time it fell. Soon hail was thundering from the gray sky. One slammed into Cloverpaw's head with a painful thunk. "Go!" Emberspirit ordered, raising her voice as she retreated to the shelter of an oak groove.

Cloverpaw joined her against her request and crouched next to her as ice thundered around them. "What are you doing out here yourself?" she demanded.

"I'm on guard, of course," Emberspirit meowed, waving her bushy tail dismissively as they backed away. "Those pesky RiverClan cats may invade our camp seeking revenge, for we defeated them at Sunningrocks."

"Why would RiverClan feel like invading in the middle of a snowstorm?" Cloverpaw had a brief flashback of the long battle. Cinderstream of ThunderClan Stonepelt of RiverClan had both died in the skirmish, which had before long turned into serious combat.

Emberspirit jerked her back to the present. "Why would they? I didn't request to be on guard, Cloverpaw, it was Shadestar. Now go back to your den before any hail gets a chance to hit you!"

"But - but Maplepaw," Cloverpaw protested, thinking of her best friend. The older apprentice had been kind to young, nervous Cloverpaw when she was first made an official apprentice. "And Snakepaw, Thrushpaw, and Marigoldpaw..." She ventured. "They're still wandering out there. I...I have to get them!"

"You want suicide?" Emberspirit stormed, her eyes flashing with immediate fury and maybe shock. "Very well, go find your friends. I'll give you suicide." She turned and left, promptly flicking aside blocks of ice with her white front paw. Cloverpaw understood that the senior warrior could be quite moody and decided to take the cue, hesitating halfway across the clearing to accidentally have a thunk of ice unbalance her only slightly before plunging into the forest.

Out here, the lashing winds were far colder, and probably harsher at that. Cloverpaw nearly turned back towards the camp entrance, feeling revolted, but her pads were numb and she couldn't carry them backwards to the clearing. She could only trudge through the thick piles of snow, sniffing the air to see if she could catch the scent of Maplepaw, or Snakepaw, or Thrushpaw, or even annoying, bossy Marigoldpaw....but of course, the freeze blotted out everything.