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Darkness crept up over the garden, triggering the dull, yellow lights hung just above the porch door. Rusty sat on his fence, still staring into the woods just beyond his garden. His twolegs had shut him out again after ruining the carpet. He didn’t care. He wanted to be out here. After all, he was waiting for something.
CRACK
Someone, rather.
“Graypaw?” He called out anxiously, “Is that you?” Rusty only had to wait a moment before a large gray form emerged from the bushes lining the start of the forest. Rusty immediately lit up with glee, resisting the urge to jump down from his fence to greet his gray-furred friend.
“Hey,” Graypaw said cooly, his nonchalant act betrayed by the excitement in his eyes as he stared up at the ginger kittypet on the fence.
“Graypaw!” Rusty exclaimed, a purr rumbling in his throat. “It’s been way too long, where have you been?” he asked as Graypaw hopped onto the fence and rubbed his chin atop Rusty’s head. “A-and… did you get bigger?”
“Yep!” Graypaw giggled, his calm demeanor finally breaking, “I’m almost a warrior now too.”
“Really?” Rusty asked curiously. “Is that where you’ve been?”
“Yeah, Lionheart has been training me constantly. I haven’t had a moment to myself lately!” Graypaw responded. “Sorry it’s been so long, it wasn’t on purpose. It’s a miracle I could even get out of camp on my own.”
“It’s okay!” Rusty was immediately reassured. “I wasn’t doing anything anyways.”
“What?” Graypaw said, concern now taking hold of his expression, “Rusty, were you waiting for me every day? I told you-”
“As I said,” Rusty interrupted, turning away from Graypaw slightly, “It’s okay. I had nothing else to do.”
“But-” Graypaw started but quickly silenced himself knowing there was no use in arguing. “Alright, if you say so.”
“I promise you, it’s okay. Do you want to see my garden? My twolegs started growing some new stuff,” Rusty asked him, trying to change the subject. Upon the mention of the garden, Graypaw lit up once more.
“Are they growing catmint?”
“No, sorry. Just more of the red balls,” Rusty replied. Graypaw deflated just a little but was still interested. Rusty hopped into the yard, trotting over to the garden with Graypaw following closely behind.
“Have you… eaten any before?” Graypaw asked Rusty as they stood in front of the tall green stalk with big red and smaller green orbs hanging off it.
“I tried one,” Rusty replied. “I didn’t really like it. The texture was… weird. I don’t have any great way to describe it.” Graypaw didn’t look at him as he spoke, instead continuing to stare at the plant.
“I want to try one,” Graypaw stated. “Can I?”
“Yeah! Go ahead, just, make sure it’s red. I don’t think the green ones are ready yet-” Rusty didn’t get a chance to finish as Graypaw took the red orb into his mouth and bit down, juice squirting from it as its shape deformed. Rusty looked on expectantly as Graypaw chewed, the gray tom’s expression not changing until he swallowed.
“Mm, yeah. Weird texture,” Graypaw spoke through some of the plants in his mouth. “Tastes a bit sweet actually.”
“Really? I didn’t think so,” Rusty commented.
“Maybe that's 'cause all you eat is tasteless rabbit droppings,” Graypaw joked, laughing a bit to his own jest. Rusty laughed a little too, only quieting nervously when the mention of his meals brought up other undesired thoughts.
“Hey, um, Graypaw,” Rusty started, nervously shuffling his paws and averting his gaze. “Do you think I… that I’ve, um, gotten chubby? I-I went to the… cutter recently, a-and I know that… that it happens…” Rusty spoke quietly, stuttering as he tried to navigate what he wanted to say. Asking for reassurance can be so hard sometimes.
“Yeah, I guess,” Graypaw answered nonchalantly, eyeing another plant.
“Does… does that bother you?” Rusty asked him. This got Graypaw’s attention, the gray-furred apprentice looking at him with an almost deadpan look.
“Rusty. Look at me. Do you really think that ME of all cats would care?” Yeah, okay, Rusty felt a bit foolish now. “Okay, so who DID care then?” Graypaw followed up.
“I think my twolegs do? They haven’t been filling my bowl very consistently. And the one that usually pets me and lays with me is never here anymore! It just kinda makes me feel weird. Uh, makes me feel self-conscious I guess. Did I do something wrong?” Rusty looked at Graypaw, who had a confused look on his face.
“Uhm… am I supposed to know an answer to that?” he asked sheepishly. Rusty let out a small oh upon the realization that his little rant really didn’t make any sense.
“S-sorry. Nevermind. Forget it. Do you want to see if Smudge is outside? We can play-”
“Wait, hey,” Graypaw murmured, putting one of his oversized paws on Rusty’s cheek. Rusty felt himself glow, his body immediately seizing with a warmth he’d never felt so strongly. “D’ya really think I’m just going to let you say all of that to yourself?”
“I-I-I… G-Graypaw… Oh, geez, I-I can’t,” Rusty tried, tripping over almost every single word. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this flustered before, and he’s sure Graypaw knows it too, the smug expression on his face speaking volumes. Graypaw slunk his forearm around the back of Rusty’s neck, pulling him closer.
“You’re so pretty, Rusty,” the large gray tom meowed, laying his cheek atop Rusty’s head. Rusty felt himself glow even brighter. This was embarrassing. “Why do you think you’re not good enough?”
“Well, I-I mean… sometimes, or, maybe a bit more than sometimes. I just feel like I don't belong,” Rusty replied quietly, leaning a bit further into Graypaw. “Y-You, uh,” Rusty cursed himself internally, wishing that he could stop stuttering. Graypaw is going to think he’s a total loser soon.
“I, I, what?” Graypaw mocked, chuckling a little.
“D-Don’t make fun of me! I have a s-stutter, it’s… it’s not my fault,” Rusty mewed defensively, making Graypaw chuckle again. “It’s just… It’s just that you make me feel… like I belong.” Graypaw stopped chuckling, pulling his head off of Rusty’s to look at him. Rusty felt his nerves pull his stomach tighter, but he continued. “You don’t care that I… that I’m a kittypet, or that I’m weird. You come out here to visit me even though it’s not allowed, and…” Rusty took a deep breath, “you don’t care about my… weight, either,” he finished quietly, looking down toward his paws. “It’s… really nice.”
“I love your weight, Rusty,” Graypaw answered fondly, coming to stroke his cheek with his large paw again. Rusty shivered a little at the touch. “It, well, makes me not feel so alone. No one in the clans can pack as much weight as I can.” Graypaw moved his paw to Rusty’s chin, moving it upward to drag Rusty’s gaze back to him. “And of course, it just means there's more of you to love. So much more.” Rusty felt himself purr, overjoyed at Graypaw’s words.
“I-I… I like your weight too, Graypaw,” Rusty meowed, quieter than ever. It felt weird saying it, but he also wanted to reassure Graypaw. Graypaw purred himself, bringing his head down to touch his forehead to Rusty’s, both toms closing their eyes briefly.
“I think I love you, Graypaw,” Rusty whispered. The ginger tom smiled to himself, happy he didn’t screw that up with his stutter. Graypaw hummed, cracking open one of his eyes to look at Rusty.
“I think I love you too, kittypet.” The two cats purred, Graypaw leading the fiery little tom toward the bushes. They laid down, Rusty curling into Graypaw’s belly and pressing his head into his shoulder. Graypaw curled around Rusty, wrapping his paws around Rusty’s chest, holding him securely. They both sighed contently, their tails twining.
- ~ -
The rain had faded into a mere drizzle by the time dusk had finally subsided into night, the patio lights flickering on as shadows crept over the garden and toward Rusty’s paws. This would be the second night he spent sleeping outside, cold and shivering, his voice strained and tired from hours of loud meowing. The ginger kittypet finally slumped down on his side, out of breath and exhausted from constant crying and wailing. He had no more tears left to cry, the last of his dried up on his cheeks as his cries devolved into quiet sniffles.
Stupid, stupid, stupid , Rusty berated himself, clutching his head with both of his paws. You waited outside too long. They forgot about you. They don’t even need you anymore. He was too tired to even think about stopping himself from spiraling, and just like that, the tears came welling up in his eyes. He swallowed hard to try and prevent them from spilling, doing his best to keep himself from clenching his eyes tight. Eventually, though, he couldn't keep himself from finally letting out quiet sobs that he thought he no longer had the energy to produce.
It had been two sunrises since he’d last seen his twolegs, and three since he’d properly eaten.
As if on cue, his stomach grumbled, the realization that he hadn’t eaten dawning on him as if it was a delayed reaction separate from his obsessive tracking of time. Rusty never enjoyed the tasteless pellets he was fed, but stars, it was better than nothing. He yearned for the warmth inside brought him, the comfortable padding of his bed, the affection his two legs haven’t given him in so long. He felt himself begin to tremble harder with both the cold and his despair intensifying.
It had been nine sunrises since he’d seen Graystripe.
He pined for the gray tom, the only creature in this despicable, hateful world that had ever shown him care. Every sunrise without him was torture to the young kittypet, his thoughts constantly a mess of what-ifs and maybes. Rusty knew it must not be healthy to be thinking of Graystripe every second of his waking life, but he had nothing else. He had nobody else. He was alone unless he was with Graystripe, and if he was alone he was worthless.
He could barely remember himself mentally. His entire life had flipped upside down, the once pleasurable yet boring normalcies of his life fading away the older he got and slowly seeing and being with Graystripe was the only thing he looked forward to. He was barely around his two legs anymore, the younger one who had always cared for him had been gone for moons which left the older ones who had never liked him in the first place. Skipping meals was regular yet much to his dismay he never got thinner. He never thought he was ugly until recently when he began to see Graystripe less and less and failed to reassure himself.
Rusty shut his eyes tight, trying his best to block out the swarm of negative thoughts and focus on what was important: He’s eleven moons old, Graystripe twelve. He got to see Graystripe nine sunrises ago. They talked about his clan life, and interesting developments in clan politics which Rusty always found entertaining to try and come up with solutions for.
Rusty remembered how at ease he felt, how absolutely smitten and just genuinely happy those sundowns made him feel. He remembered how they quieted down after a while, Graystripe getting progressively more touchy until they kissed once, then twice, and then fell backward into the grass in a moment of passion. He remembered the feeling of running his paws through Graystripe’s long, fluffy fur, his strong forelegs wrapped around his own smaller body, the way they both came up for air and looked at each other, Graystripe giggling at Rusty’s blown pupils and ruffled fur, before slowly leading him into the bushes.
Rusty sighed airly, the warmth the happy memories bring him seeping through his body as his shivers began to subside slightly, momentarily returning to rationality. Tears still fell, quiet sniffles and sobs still escaped, and his short-lived smile soon fell back into a whimpering frown, but he knew he’d be happy soon enough.
“Rusty!”
A hissed whisper reached his ears from across the yard as the ginger kittypet was suddenly thrust back into reality from the depths of his mind. He quickly wiped his eyes and glanced at the source of the noise, the bushes lining the fence facing the woods. Rusty noticed that it had gotten a bit darker than when he last recalled, however unmistakably, two yellow eyes were lurking within the foliage.
“Graystripe?!” Rusty almost yelped, excitement hitting him like a monster. He quickly stumbled to his feet and clumsily made his way over to the bush line. “Graystripe!” Rusty cried when the gray tom stepped out to meet him, a warm smile gracing his features. Rusty wasted no time diving into the larger’s grasp, wrapping his forelegs around his neck. He felt too overwhelmed with pure joy to continue repeating his mate’s name, only able to let out happy squeaks as he peppered Graystripe’s jaw with kisses. Graystripe laughed affectionately as he hugged Rusty impossibly closer, returning the gesture to Rusty’s forehead with a kiss.
“Well, hello my little flame. Excited to see me?” Graystripe purred, stroking Rusty’s cheek with his paw. Rusty blushed as he put his paw atop his mate’s, looking up until green met yellow.
“You have no idea,” Rusty meowed, too happy to banter back with the gray tom.
“I think I might have a bit of a clue,” Graystripe teased.
“Please, let me enjoy this,” Rusty groaned, to which Graystripe chuckled. “I missed you,” Rusty clarified, reaching up to touch his nose to Graystripe’s.
“You’re adorable,” Graystripe replied, poking his nose with his paw. “What are you doing out so late? Shouldn’t you be inside?”
“What are you doing here so late if I’m supposed to be inside?” Rusty clumsily retorted. He finds he’s suddenly afraid of telling Graystripe why he was still outside.
He won’t leave you. He won’t forget about you.
“ Well , for your information” Graystripe meowed, “I was patrolling near your fence as usual to protect you from all those dangers in the woods.” Graystripe cracked a smile, obviously jesting with the kittypet. “Though, I don’t usually smell you outside when I do. What’s up with that my little question avoider?”
“Ooh. Not catchy. Do better,” Rusty dodged his question once again. Graystripe rolled his eyes.
“Sorry, I don’t have a silly nickname to give you when you’re being annoying. I’ll try harder next time, promise!” Rusty snickered, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. They were quiet for a few moments, staring only into each other’s gaze.
“Well?”
“Huh?”
“ Well?~ ” Graystripe repeated.
“Well, what?”
“Are you gonna tell me or what?
“Why do you want to know so bad?”
“'Cause you seem super insistent on not telling me.”
“Well, I don’t have to tell you, do I?”
“Well,” Graystripe punctuated, “that just sounds like you’re hiding something.”
“What if I’m just out here because I want to be?”
“I wouldn’t believe that, so…”
“You don’t need to believe it for it to be true.”
“Rusty…!” Graystripe groaned, “c’mon, don’t be like this! Just tell me!” Rusty finally tore his gaze away, looking toward the ground and shuffling his paws. He could never lie to Graystripe, even if he tried.
“I, uh- uhm,” Rusty cursed himself as he stuttered for the first time, alerting Graystripe that something was wrong. The playful glint in his eyes vanished as concern took over and he moved forward to hold Rusty again. “L-Look, I don’t want you to… worry, or anything, 'cause it’s okay, really, like… it’s not anything bad, okay?” Rusty inhaled sharply, bringing his head up to stare off to the side. “It’s just that… I just, y’know, can’t get back inside. My uh… m-my twolegs, they, uhm… didn’t let me in. Like, for uh, two sunrises or so, and I guess I’m hungry? I’m hungry, yeah, that’s all. I’m just hungry.” Rusty knew he looked like a completely pathetic, but he didn’t exactly know how to tell Graystripe that he was so unlikeable his twolegs left him out without coming across as such.
Graystripe said nothing, only looking at Rusty with sympathy.
Silence stretched between the two until Graystripe finally spoke. “C’mon,” he said, causing Rusty to finally look back toward him. Graystripe stood up and jerked his head toward the fence, motioning for Rusty to follow. The ginger kittypet tilted his head in confusion. “I’ll go catch you dinner. Some real forest prey. How does that sound?”
“Really?” Rusty meowed in awe. Even after being together all this time, Graystripe had still yet to invite Rusty into the forest.
“Really. It’ll be my treat since you deserve it so much,” Graystripe purred at the smaller, beginning to make his way over to the fence. Rusty simply nodded happily and trotted after Graystripe, hopping over the fence that divided his yard from the woods. He quickly caught up to Graystripe to walk alongside him, twining their tails together.
Graystripe eventually broke away from him and shushed Rusty, alerting him that he had heard something. Soon, the lumbering tom ducked into a crouch, creeping forward to where he heard the quiet scuttling of a mouse.
Rusty had only ever tasted mouse once, on that fateful night he had met Graystripe. Everything back then was new and exciting, and while his time with Graystripe was never dull, far from it, he couldn't help but start to feel bored with the repetitiveness of his life. Stalking prey in clan territory was certainly a step up, the ginger’s tail flicking excitedly as he sat and watched Graystripe stalk forward.
Graystripe swiftly pounced and killed his prey, surprising Rusty as the large gray tom brought two mice to him, setting them down in front of him as he grinned warmly at the ginger.
“For you,” Graystripe meowed simply, nudging the mice toward him. Rusty glanced down at the prey before looking back up at Graystripe with confusion.
“Both of them? For me? I-I can’t accept that…” Rusty quietly stated, looking back down shyly. Graystripe scoffed teasingly.
“Well, I got them just for you, the least you could do is eat them. You know, it’s disrespectful in the clans to refuse a meal gifted to you.”
“Part of me doubts that, really.”
“How come?” Rusty shrugged weakly.
“I-I dunno, you’ve made up stuff before just to tease me.”
“Well, I’m not teasing you, and I want you to eat. Please?”
“Can’t we share them?” Rusty suggested, to which Graystripe, surprisingly, shook his head.
“No can do, little flame. As much as I’d love to share, you need to eat.”
“Really, Graystripe, I want to share with you-”
“Hey, I ate before I came, okay? These are for you, I want you to have both of them. The fact you haven’t eaten in two sunrises makes me queasy,” Graystripe reasoned. Rusty’s stomach growled conveniently, Graystripe raising a brow to further push his reasoning as the ginger flushed in embarrassment.
Rusty finally sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to win this argument either. “Okay, okay, fine, you win, I’ll eat them both. Only 'cause you’re so insistent.”
Graystripe watched him quietly as he ate, a wide smile plastered across his face the entire time. Rusty found himself devouring the food he was given, how hungry he really was becoming apparent. The mouth-watering sensation of mouse on his tongue was nothing like he’d ever experienced, the blast of flavor and texture a stark contrast to the tasteless pellets he’d been eating his entire life. Suddenly, returning to his den was a lot less appealing, the ginger kittypet eating even quicker than before.
Rusty licked his lips after he finished, looking away and covering his mouth with a paw to prevent any unwanted sounds from being heard, however, a following hiccup was too loud to prevent reaching Graystripe’s ears, who giggled as it reached his twitching ears.
“Aw, did my little kittypet eat too fast?” the gray warrior cooed, quickly closing the distance between the two and drawing Rusty in close. Rusty felt his whole face burn, partly due to his bodily sounds, but also due to Graystripe’s affectionate demeanor.
“G-Graystripe…” Rusty whined, pawing weakly at the tom’s fluffy chest as he sizzled with embarrassment.
“Y’know, Rusty…” Graystripe began with a sultry whisper, surprising the ginger kittypet whose eyes widened, “It’s just us alone out here. Maybe we could… uh, make out, or y’know,” Graystripe trailed off, leaving the suggestion floating between them. Graystripe gently tilted Rusty back until he lay on his back, Graystripe looming over him with both front paws adjacent to his shoulders, staring down at him with the most love and affection he’d ever seen. “Would… would that be okay with you?”
Rusty felt at a loss for words. “I-I-I- uhm, Graystripe, I-”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, Rusty,” Graystripe reassured him, “I promise-”
“No! N-No, no, I want to, I really do, I-I j-just… I’m just not very good… at, like, kissing and stuff, I don’t know what to do, I mean…” Rusty brought his paws up to cover his face, heaving a frustrated sigh at his inability to speak properly. “W-We’re in the woods, and you always say-”
“Hey, it’s okay! We can take it slow, I’ll make sure you feel comfortable and safe, and… y’know, the other stuff,” Graystripe snorted lightly, grinning and looking off to the side, which only lead to Rusty lower his paws to peak at the gray tom with a light smile of his own. “It’s just like grooming, but more on our faces. Maybe in our mouths? I don’t know if its a different term, but I did hear some older warriors talking about it…”
“You’re so stupid,” the kittypet giggled suddenly, pulling Graystripe down by wrapping his forelegs around his neck. “My big, fluffy, idiot.”
“I don’t know what either of those words means but I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.” Rusty purred as Graystripe went in for a kiss, the two beginning to lose themselves in the moment. As they continued, passion intensifying, they failed to notice the rustling of the bushes or the new scents. To Rusty, the only thing he was concerned with was Graystripe’s bright, yellow eyes, his fluffy gray fur that smelled of the forest, and his big, soft paws that cupped his cheek and held him tight.
Graystripe was everything to him. Rusty wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he ever lost him.
“Aha!” a dark gray tabby suddenly jumped out of the bushes, causing Rusty to yelp and jerk violently, smashing his nose into Graystripes, who reeled back in pain.
“Ow, foxdung! What’s the big idea- oh for the love of Starclan,” Graystripe recovered quickly and plunged his face back into Rusty’s chest with a groan, the kittypet now holding his bleeding, throbbing nose.
“I KNEW something was fishy! Do you see this Bluestar? He's mingling with a kittypet!” the dark tabby continued, a tall blue molly stepping out of the bushes with an icy glare piercing the pair. A large golden cat with fur so thick it almost looked like a mane soon stepped out as well, narrowing his eyes at Graystripe.
“It seems you weren’t full of complete mousedung, Darkstripe,” began the large tom. “My former apprentice too.”
“Lionheart-” Graystripe tried as he lifted his head and finally sat up from their rather embarrassing position. Rusty sat up as well, still holding his nose and hiding behind Graystripe’s large frame.
“I’m disappointed in you,” Lionheart cut him off, “not only are you chasing after a kittypet,” he spat the word with such disdain it made Rusty flinch, “but a tom as well? Bluestar, surely this cannot go unpunished.” Graystripe, who had before seemed rather annoyed by Darkstripe’s intrusion, seemed to finally recognize the severity of the situation unfolding, eyes widening. Darkstripe, for his part, continued to make mocking faces at his brother— who Graystripe frequently complained about, Rusty recalled— trying to contain his cackles.
All eyes turned to Bluestar, the fabled Thunderclan leader Rusty had only dreamed of meeting. Her presence certainly lived up to Graystripe’s stories, standing tall with an almost ethereal aura, as if the stars had blessed her themselves. The blue-gray molly had her eyes locked on the ginger kittypet, not once removing her gaze from Rusty, who met her stare with his own, so overwhelmed with conflicting feelings of fear and anticipation and the pain from his bleeding nose that he felt like he might burst into tears.
“Bluestar? Is something wrong? Other than… this” Lionheart asked, gesturing to the ginger-gray pair in front of them. Darkstripe growled impatiently and stalked closer to the pair as if they were his prey.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s chase this disgusting waste of space off our territory and finally let Graystripe face some consequences, for Starclans sake!” Rusty shrank back further, fully convinced Darkstripe would lunge at him and tear his throat out any second. Graystripe seemed to take notice and pushed Rusty behind him further, rising to his full height.
“Darkstripe I swear to Starclan I will rip you to fucking shreds and feed you to the crows myself if you lay a single goddamn paw on him!” Graystripe hissed, unsheathing his claws to show he meant it. Darkstripe did as well, back arching.
“I’d like to see you try, kittypet chaser! You’re so far gone into the softness of a kittypet life that you’ve even started talking like one!” Rusty doesn’t think he’s ever actually felt this scared before. He’s been upset or panicked before, but always from the safety of his garden. If they wanted to, these cats could kill him without a second thought. His breathing had already begun to intensify, the kittypet squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed as close as he could to Graystripe, wishing that everything else around them would just disappear.
“Enough!” The two siblings immediately drew back and snapped their heads to Bluestar, who had finally spoken. Lionheart hung back, ready to let his leader speak. “Darkstripe, stand back and shut your maw for once in your life. I’ll handle this.” The molly stepped forward and sat down in front of Graystrpie and Rusty, relaxing her posture and curling her tail around her paws. “What’s your name, kittypet?” she asked calmly.
“I-I-I, u-uhm, R-Ruh-” Rusty tried, choking on his breath as he spoke. The long-suppressed tears finally welled up, feeling pathetic under her powerful stare. He bowed his head slightly to avoid her icy blue eyes.
“Rusty,” Graystripe muttered, draping his tail protectively over the kittypet. “His name is Rusty.”
“Hello, Rusty. I’m sure you already know, but my name is Bluestar. Tell me, what are you doing out in the woods with Graystripe?” Rusty felt a little unnerved at how calm Bluestar was in comparison to the other two cats with her. The ginger kittypet was sure she knew the answers to all the questions she was about to ask him, wondering why she was even bothering.
“H-He’s, um, he…” Rusty looked at Graystripe briefly, pleading silently for him to speak up.
“Excuse him, Bluestar. He has, uh, trouble speaking, I guess. When he’s nervous, I mean, not all the time-”
“I understand. Take your time.” Rusty swallowed, somewhat calmed by her patience with him.
“W-W-Well, I, was, um…” The kittypet paused to breathe a couple of times, willing himself to calm down and not look like a complete moron in front of the cat he’d been wanting to meet and impress as long as he’d known of the clan’s existence. “M-my twolegs, they, er, didn’t let me back inside of my, um, d-den, and I-I-I was hungry, so, um, Graystripe caught s-s-s-something for me t-t-to eat. I- I’m sorry.” Rusty chose to leave out the entire prelude to their meeting, not wishing to embarrass himself even further than them witnessing.
“What?! You gave a stupid kittypet Thunderclan prey?!” Darkstripe yoweled, appalled. Graystripe rolled his eyes and scoffed.
“Two mice, actually. Starclan forbid I help a cat in need, Darkstripe, Starclan forbid!”
“Like that fat kittypet needed two mice! You say a cat in need like this wasn’t the one you were about to do on the forest floor-”
“Enough, Darkstripe!” Bluestar interrupted him once more, “One more peep out of you, and its apprentice duty for a moon, understood?” Darkstripe scoffed and look to the side, nodding in response. “Now, Rusty, I know this might come across as a little odd, but, do you dream?”
Rusty cocked his head to the side. “Uhm, yes? D-Doesn’t every cat dream?”
“Would you mind telling me what you dreamt about?” Rusty shrugged.
“S… Sure? I- I remember, as a kit, I would dream of the forest a lot,” Rusty meowed meekly, still not comfortable enough to speak normally around the forest cats, “like, catching prey and stuff.” Bluestar suddenly gasped softly, her eyes widening for only a second. “What? Did- is that bad?”
“No, not at all. Continue.”
“Well, uh, after meeting Graystripe, they’ve just been about him and- and living in the forest with him.” Rusty noticed Graystripe smile widely at this comment, a quiet purr escaping. From the expression on her face, Bluestar also found that endearing. Darkstripe stuck a toe in his mouth and gagged, while Lionheart remained still and unmoved, face stiff like a stone.
“So you dream of the forest a lot?”
“Every few nights or so,” Rusty answered. Bluestar nodded.
“Are you satisfied with a kittypet life?” she asked, earning a shocked glance from Lionheart.
“Bluestar-” he began, but Bluestar rose her tail to silence him.
“I promise you this is the last question, Rusty.” The kittypet looked to Graystripe, unsure of what to say. He might not hate being a kittypet, but he sure as hell didn’t love it either, having to rely on his twolegs for survival leaving him starving and cold many nights, while other times just finding himself bored without Graystripe.
“U-uhm, not particularly, I guess. I-I don’t… I don’t like having to rely on my twolegs for food and water. Or at all, really. They don’t exactly treat me well either.” It was silent after that, much to Rusty’s disappointment. He kneaded the ground with his paws as the uncomfortable silence lingered, strong enough to make him shiver. Darkstripe had resigned to glaring daggers at Graystripe, to which the large tom returned. Lionheart still stared at the pair with an unreadable expression. Perhaps it was contempt? Disappointment? He couldn’t know for sure. Bluestar had shut her eyes, deep in thought.
After what felt like an eternity, Bluestar finally hummed, opening her eyes.
“Why don’t you two follow us back to camp?”
- ~ -
“Please, hold still, Cinderpaw. I can’t remove the thorn if you yank your paw away every time I try to pull it out!”
“But it hurts!”
“What were you expecting? A rush of pure bliss?”
“Where’s Spottedleaf, can’t she do this? You’re not good at this.”
“Oh… I-I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Firepaw!”
“Well, it sure sounded like you did…”
“What’s going on here?” A pretty tortoiseshell molly entered the medicine den, eyeing the two smaller cats expectantly.
“He’s being too rough with my thorn!” Cinderpaw complained, gesturing to the ginger tom.
“You keep yanking your paw away every time I even try and do anything to it!” Firepaw shot back, smacking Cinderpaw with his tail. She smacked him back with her paw, only to receive a jolt of pain as the splinter dug further into her pads on impact. Firepaw snickered as she yelped, the ashy molly turning to Spottedleaf pleadingly.
“Here, hold still,” Spottedleaf sighed, quickly removing the throne before Cinderpaw could even think about it. She yelped again, shaking the pain away as Spottedleaf spat the thorn out where no one would step on it. “Firepaw, get some goldenrod so she doesn’t get it infected. I know she will.”
“Hey!”
“Uh, sure.” Firepaw trotted to the back of the den where she stored the herbs, searching through the organized piles while Spottedleaf continued to speak to Cinderpaw.
It had been a moon and a half since Firepaw had joined the Thunderclan, Bluestar inviting him to join once they had arrived at camp after meeting him, much to the shock of about every other cat in the clan and the joy of Graystripe. She, along with Spottedleaf, had decided to make him a medicine cat apprentice, which caused mass outrage in the clan that still hadn’t quite gone away, many cats still refusing to even acknowledge his position. If Firepaw was honest, we would have preferred becoming a warrior, but he could understand why he wasn’t made one, his physical stature not exactly ideal for fighting and hunting. Besides, he loved helping other cats, and if being a medicine cat earned him a place in the clans, he was happy to take it.
Firepaw was (and still is) far too excited about his dream coming true to really care what the majority of the clan thought about him being here. Clan life was much more exciting and entertaining than anything he’d ever experienced as a kittypet. With the cats he’d managed to befriend— which was only about five of them— he had started to feel a real sense of community with them, something he’d sought after for so long. Besides, Spottedleaf had informed him his dreams as a kit were callings from Starclan, so the rest of Thunderclan could suck it up and get used to it for all he cared.
He finally started to feel happy on his own again. Of course, Graystripe was still (mostly) everything to him and the center of his universe, but having other responsibilities and duties in his life certainly helped balance out his dependence on him. Spottedleaf cared for him deeply, protecting him from much of the clan’s scorn. Firepaw in turn admired her, wanting to call her his big sister but not feeling close enough yet to say that to her.
Speaking of Graystripe, the tom did end up receiving punishment in the form of being confined to the camp for almost a moon but got off relatively easily considering he didn’t actually break any rules. His reputation among his clanmates didn’t fair as well, losing almost any respect he had for mating with a kittypet, and his relationship with Lionheart had deteriorated and wasn’t ever repaired as the massive tom had died in a battle with Shadowclan a quarter moon into Firepaw’s indoctrination into the clan. Graystripe felt terrible he wasn’t ever able to make things right between them, but there wasn’t much he was able to do about it now. Both Bluestar and Spottedleaf, in a controversial move, let Firepaw and Graystripe continue their relationship even with Firepaw becoming a medicine cat, as he could not bear kits, but they still kept it rather low profile due to the disapproval of the clan.
“Firepaw!” Spottedleaf’s mew rang through the den, startling Firepaw out of his thoughts, “What are you doing? You’ve been over there awhile.”
“Uhm.” Firepaw looked down at the piles, not seeing goldenrod anywhere. Shit, shit shit shit, I’m so terrible at this. “I-I, uh, think we’re out.”
“Hm, oh well. I’m sure Cinderpaw will be fine, it was a tiny little thorn anyways.”
“No, it wasn’t! It hurt, like, really bad!”
“You’ll be fine, Cinderpaw. Why don’t you go see if the elders have eaten?” Spottedleaf suggested. Cinderpaw perked up and smiled.
“Oh! Sure, Spottedleaf!” she meowed and quickly dashed out of the den.
“Such a dramatic little thing, she is,” Spottedleaf scoffed affectionately and shook her head, then turned her attention to Firepaw. “Hey, are you alright?”
“Oh, uh, yea! I’m okay, just got lost in thought,” Firepaw replied. Spottedleaf smiled a little sadly, seemingly seeing through his attempt at covering up his disappointment in not helping Cinderpaw.
“Hey, you are good at this. You know what they say, practice makes perfect.”
“I know, I know. I just feel a bit useless since I’m not exactly apprentice aged.”
“It’s really not that weird. It’s not too uncommon for older warriors to become medicine cats,” Spottedleaf reassured. “But if you’d like something to do, why don’t you go gather more goldenrod if we’re out?”
“Oh, sure! I can do that!” Firepaw replied, excitingly making his way toward the den exit. “Near the Windclan border, right?”
“Yes. Remember to take a warrior with you!” Spottedleaf called after him as he left, the small ginger tom making his way across the camp. He got his usual stares of disgust and disdain, cats whispering to each other while glancing toward him. Firepaw tried to shrug it off, but they always managed to bother him a little bit.
Right before reaching the gorse tunnel, however, Firepaw received a face full of mud. He stumbled to the side from the shock, almost tripping over his paws, whipping around to see where it had come from. To nobody’s surprise, especially Firepaw’s, Darkstripe and Longtail stood a few fox-lengths away, snickering with muddy paws. Usually, Firepaw would scoff and wipe the mud off and go cry about it elsewhere, but today he felt an unfamiliar rage bubbling inside of him. He was so sick of their unjustified hatred of him— sick of the clan's hatred, honestly— and constantly acting out against him physically unlike the others. Furious, he shook the mud off his face and marched over to the pair.
“Aw, is the little kittypet upset he got a little mud on his face?” Longtail taunted as he got nearer, the rage inside of him any brighter.
“What are you gonna do about it? Cry?” Darkstripe added with a snicker. Firepaw responded by lunging at the tom, tackling him to the group in his surprise. Claws unsheathed, he began to pummel the dark gray tom with his paws, tears of anger budding in the corner of his eyes.
“Leave me the fuck alone! I didn’t do ANYTHING to you!” Firepaw yowled before being yanked off of Darkstripe by Longtail, landing on the hard ground of the clearing. The air was knocked out of him as soon as he collided with the dirt, a choked gasp leaving him as Darkstripe picked himself back up and started to hit Firepaw back, leaving bruises Firepaw knows will swell up later.
“You being in this clan is enough! You’re an insult to everything our society stands for, kittypet! Why don’t you save the clan some trouble and go throw yourself off the gorge, fa-”
Darkstripe was cut off by being violently tackled once more to the ground by Graystripe, who had come out of seemingly nowhere. He growled more fiercely than Firepaw had ever heard him, using his much larger size to his advantage as he pinned Darkstripe to the ground, paws crushing his chest.
“I fucking warned you, Darkstripe! I promised you I’d rip you shreds if you laid a paw on him and here you are!”
“He attacked me!” Darkstripe protested, but Graystripe only clawed his cheek in response.
“You think you’re so tough, don’t you? Picking on the medicine cat apprentice like that’ll earn you any respect! You’re so fucking pathetic!”
“Get off him kittypet-chaser!” Longtail hissed but made no move to actually assist Darkstripe. By now a crowd had formed, practically the whole clan gathering around to watch Graystripe beat the stars out of his brother. Firepaw could only watch, feeling both scared at Graystripe’s raw power and mesmerized by how attractive this was in such an awful way. He’s always looking out for me. The ginger tom smiled to himself, putting a paw to his flushed face.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bluestar and Tigerclaw, Lionheart’s replacement as deputy, emerging from her den due to the commotion. Firepaw quickly got to his paws and ran up to Graystripe, nudging him to get off of Darkstripe and book it out of camp. The large tom immediately nodded, hopping off his brother’s battered body and racing out of camp with Firepaw. He didn't want to see his mate be punished again for protecting him, and, well, he still needed a warrior to get that goldenrod. When they made it far enough away from camp, they stopped to rest next to a large oak tree, panting heavily.
They looked at each other for a moment before Firepaw smiled, “That was, like, incredibly attractive. Y-You beating the shit out of him, I mean.” Graystripe looked taken aback for a moment before snorting and laughing boisterously, almost falling to the ground.
“Seriously? That’s the first thing you have to say?” Graystripe giggled. “Is that why your nose is bleeding? Did my strong display of dominance get you all flustered?” Firepaw brought a paw to his nose to find that it was in fact bleeding.
“I-, uhm, I don’t think that can cause a nosebleed. Pretty sure Darkstripe just bashed my snout in,” the ginger medicine cat responded shyly, blushing softly under his fur.
“Stars, that bastard! I seriously should have killed him, he deserves it! Look what he did to your pretty face! My poor little kittypet…” Graystripe trotted over to hold Firepaw’s face in his paws, licking his wounds.
“It’s okay, Graystripe. I can heal myself back up. Just wanted to get out of camp together before you got in trouble again,” Firepaw meowed, kissing Graystripe’s jaw.
“Oh, you didn’t have to, little flame. I’ll get in trouble as many times as I need to if it means protecting you from those foxhearts.”
“Well, I also needed a warrior to come with me to get some more goldenrod, but let's just make this a little date, hm?”
“I’m cool with that,” Graystripe purred. “Where to?”
“Windclan border. Do you think they’ll send a patrol after us?”
Graystripe scoffed, “As if Bluestar would ever punish you for anything.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault she likes me!” Firepaw protested. Graystripe smirked and draped his tail over the ginger’s back.
“I actually do think it’s your fault you’re so loveable,” he purred, rubbing his cheek to Firepaw’s.
Firepaw laughed nervously, averting his eyes from Graystripe. “I-I don’t think that's true. The loveable part, I mean, because, y’know, I get mud thrown at me and stuff- you get the point.” Firepaw sighed sadly, despondence gripping his body out of the blue, leaving a gray tom concerned. “Do you ever like, regret any of this? You’ve ruined your image in the clan over me, and I just feel like I haven’t… helped you at all, in that aspect.”
Graystripe continued to stare at him with worry, “Your eye is swelling up. Can you see okay?”
“Graystripe, I’m serious! Don’t… don’t do that, I-I want an honest answer,” the ginger whined.
“Of course not, Firepaw. I know I looked like I’ve got my shit all figured out, but, like, seriously, I don’t. But what I have figured out and know for a fact is I love you more than anything in the world, and nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change that. You could, like, I dunno, kill a cat, and I’d still hold you on the highest pedestal, stars, I’d probably kill them for you.” Graystripe smiled softly, giving Firepaw’s ear a lick, “Thing is that I don’t really give a shit what the clan thinks about me as long as I have you. I’m huge, they’re not going to fuck with me. And Bluestar’s okay with it, I think, so I’m not going to stress about it.”
“Must be nice,” Firepaw sniffed, “I’m like, easily one of the smallest. Must be 'cause of my “kittypet blood”. Something stupid like that. Sometimes I feel like they might have a point.”
“Don’t say that. Darkstripe is seriously the dumbest piece of mousedung ever. Actually, I’d call him a piece of shit, just out of spite. Some kittypet slang just for him,” Graystripe chuckled. Firepaw softly did as well, finally looking back at Graystripe.
They stopped walking, the scent of the Windclan border filling the air around them.
“And, hey, think of it like this. Starclan made you small to be all cute and stuff and made me huge to beat the snot out of anyone who dares to fuck with you. Like, you can be all snarky and they can’t do anything about it because they know I’ll rip them to shreds if they try.”
Firepaw smirked, narrowing his eyes playfully. “You really think I’m cute, huh?”
“The cutest.”
“Well, I think you’re adorable.”
Graystripe scoffed softly, “Nuh-uh. I’m handsome 'cause I’m all tough and rugged and stuff.”
“Pfft. Right. You’re soft like a bed.”
“No I’m not! Do you not see these muscles?! Of course, you do, you love my muscles.”
“Well, duh, but I also like how squishy you are. Makes cuddling with you so much better!” Firepaw meowed genuinely. Graystripe mocked offense, crossing his forelegs and looking to the ground.
“'M not squishy. Just fluffy.”
“Okay, sure. Now, about that goldenrod…” Firepaw turned his attention to their surroundings, trying to scout for any patches of yellow.
“Oh, forget that. When was the last time we were all alone like this?” Graystripe meowed, scooting closer to the ginger tom.
“Uh, like, three sunrises ago?”
“Shut up and kiss me, kittypet.”
And so he did. Firepaw forgot the rest of his problems as soon as their snouts met, his mind flooding with thoughts of pleasure and passion and how much he needed this. Like in most moments such as this one, Firepaw came to accept that everything was going to be okay. As long as he had Graystripe, he could persevere and keep going, knowing the gray tom would always be there to support and reassure him. He’d long ago committed to always being there for Graystripe as well.
And, well, as long as that stayed true, he’d be okay. They’d be okay.
For some reason, the sunset never looked prettier.