****Goldenclaw's POV****
"Goldenclaw, what do you want? Can't you see I'm hunting." Starkpelt snaps.
Goldenclaw can see the tension in his clan mate's shoulders and in the way his tail curled tightly around his leg. Despite the bravado Starkpelt put up, Goldenclaw knew the older warrior was frightened...and that he had heard him coming. The second thing he wasn't surprised by seeing as he intentionally walked with loud paw steps. As for the first part, Goldenclaw was unsure as to why Starkpelt had become such a fraidy cat. Perhaps Frostfang had just traumatized him beyond the repair of Clan comfort.
"There's something we need to talk about. Can we go somewhere private?" Goldenclaw swings his head from side to side, alert for anyone who could possibly be spying on him. Vultureclaw had agreed that Goldenclaw would do this alone, but the golden tabby wouldn't put it past the wicked deputy to send Ashwhisker and/or Frondleap after him to make sure the job was done properly.
Starkpelt gives a shaky nod after noting the seriousness in Goldenclaw's golden gaze. "Alright. But only if I choose the place."
"Sure. Lead the way." He had not been expecting such an unusual request, but Goldenclaw was willing to deal with it if it meant some private time with Starkpelt, abstaining from any interruptions.
Goldenclaw followed Starkpelt as casually as he could, only giving the occasional glance over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed. For safety measures, his golden paws would scuff out their paw prints in the earth, making it all the harder for them to be tracked. They came to a halt at the edge of HunterClan territory.
From the sound of sluggish water and the scent of wispy fronds he knows they are near Sunningrocks and the river. Blossomstar has announced that preparations would begin soon to retrieve the stolen territory a few days ago, but she has yet to make another announcement concerning the sandy rocks.
Starkpelt sits down atop one of the smooth stones straying into their territory; his tail curls over his limbs to rest over his paws. At this height, Goldenclaw has to look up to see the other tom, his golden eyes squinting to pick out the tom against the bright sunlight. With this brazen light Starkpelt's thoroughly shredded ear is even more visible, as are the the other wounds given to him by the likes of Wire, Ratchet, Sour Cream and Sourdough. Just thinking of the rogues riles him up.
Frostfang just had to let those nut jobs drink from the Mortal Moss. How dare he?!
"So what do you need to tell me?" Starkpelt asks.
Goldenclaw sighs. "There's something I need to tell you...but you're not going to like it."
Now it's Starkpelt's turn to sigh. The seasoned warrior looks even older than he actually is, his body sagging and eyes drooping. Goldenclaw would feel sorry for him....if he hadn't betrayed HunterClan that is.
Still, no cat deserves to be brutally murdered...not even Starkpelt.
"Nothing I hear is good news lately....if only I could be with my Jasmine. Then things would be alright. Then I wouldn't have to deal with the disgust on everyone's faces...including yours."
Goldenclaw nods, not even bothering to wince at the blatant call out as he is glad to see that Starkpelt is already on the track he's thinking of. Maybe I can convince him without even telling him what's even going on. It was an interesting thought, one he would have to pursue.
"About that....what if you did go be with her? That's where you want to be, right?" He queries.
Starkpelt regards him with an air of caution. "I...I couldn't do that. HunterClan...it's my home."
"But like you said, no one likes you anymore. Not after what you did. It would be...simpler for you if you just left. You do have kits to raise after all...or am I mistaken?" Goldenclaw paused for a moment. He knew his next line would be underpawed, but he could not allow Starkpelt to remain in HunterClan. If I don't do this, Vultureclaw will just send one of his lackeys to finish him off. "I sure wouldn't want anything to happen to them."
Starkpelt's hackles rose, an anger blooming in his eyes. It had been the first time in ages that Goldenclaw had seen the older warrior genuinely look fierce. He was reminded of the brave, esteemed warrior Starkpelt used to be.
As one of Badgerstripe and Silvermoon's close friends, he often came by the Nursery to play with Goldenclaw and his siblings back when they were kits. Starkpelt had been admirable back then, and he felt somewhat guilty that his plan would take away the possibility for the warrior to redeem himself.
Dustcloud and Lilyspots wouldn't want their brother to leave HunterClan...but they also wouldn't want him to needlessly die either. It was this thought that made his mind up. Goldenclaw made his expression into what he hoped was a malicious smirk, that really just made him feel awkward.
"Frostfang hates you, and most of your Clan mates feel the same way. If they found out that you have half-Clan kittens...from a kittypet no less...well, you would be breaking some of the most sacred laws of HunterClan. The laws that state you cannot introduce mundanes to the Shadow World, nor can you mate with cats outside the clan, especially not a mundane. In fact, never a mundane. Both could result in extreme punishments, the most severe being the stripping of your runes and the murder of your children, as half Shadowhunter kittens are supposed to be forbidden unless they agree to join HunterClan...or your mate becomes a Shadowhunter, which isn't likely by the sounds of it." Goldenclaw felt slightly out of breath after his relatively long monologue.
Starkpelt's eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn't dare. You can't do this Goldenclaw! Jasmine is innocent. Surely you understand that. Or," The tom was snarling now, his lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth. "Or are you really just as bad as Frostfang. A monster just like your father."
Goldenclaw had to force his own hackles from rising, that last statement from Starkpelt striking him right in his core. He did feel awful for doing this, for threatening the older warrior in this way, but he knew it had to be done.
"Make no mistake, I don't want anything to happen to your mate or your kits. That's why I'm saying you must go. Protect them before it's too late. You're the only one that can." Goldenclaw stresses this importance, his tail flicking ominously behind him.
Starkpelt considers Goldenclaw's words carefully. He can tell this by the narrowing of the tom's eyes, and the way his ears were pricked. Eventually, Starkpelt gave a small nod, his amber eyes still a bit uncertain. The pale ginger tom looked a bit frightened by everything Goldenclaw has said, but at the very least he was taken the golden tabby's words seriously, which made him pleased.
"Jasmine wanted me to join her as a house cat....but I never thought I would take her up on her offer. I always imagined bringing her and our kits to HunterClan. But if this is the only way-"
"It is." Goldenclaw cuts in. The last thing he needs is for Starkpelt to change his mind.
Starkpelt nods. "Then I guess I will go. Though there is two conditions that I want."
"And that would be....?"
"I want you to come with me to the TwolegPlace as I don't want to make this journey alone." Starkpelt said.
"Fair enough. As long as I'm back in camp by sunset. What's the second condition?" Goldenclaw murmurs.
Starkpelt has a glint in his eyes that Goldenclaw finds himself unable to read. "You'll find out when we get there."
****Time Skip*****
Goldenclaw feels a bit strange going back to the TwolegPlace once more. The white painted fence feels scratchy underneath his paws as he hauls himself up it, the sight of large brick nests becoming apparent once he reaches the top. Everything in this artificial area feels sun baked here, from the black asphalt and gray cement to the translucent window panes and metal doors. Goldenclaw finds it strange that despite the cold chill of fall everything here is warm, aside from the frosty grass and plants however, that still follow natural patterns of nature.
"Ooff." He lets out a small grunt as his pass hit the stiff ground. The nest Starkpelt had taken him to was abandoned, the house covered in shrouds of cobwebs and the back yard a mess of fallen leaves and Twoleg contraptions Goldenclaw has never seen before.
"Jasmine's house is a little ways away from here. Stick close to me as we get farther in, that way you'll be able to retrace our paw steps on your way back." Starkpelt told him.
"Sounds good." Goldenclaw replied.
The ginger tom wasted no time leading Goldenclaw around the Twoleg nest to the ThunderPath behind it. They follow the wet, black path for what felt like an hour, avoiding the passerby Twolegs and yipping dogs. He'd been particularly spooked by a large brown and black dog.
The slobbering mutt yelped in fear when it saw them coming though, almost as though it was afraid of cats. Goldenclaw couldn't fathom why that would be, but if he had to guess he would say it had to do with the scratches across the dog's eye and snout. The pinkness of them denoted that they were fairly fresh, and also infected. Goldenclaw hopes they don't run into whatever cat had caused these marks though, as whomever thought challenging a full grown dog was a good idea has to be out of their mind.
Oddly enough, he found his mind flicking to thoughts of Arrowheart. His parabatai had been gone for a little over a half-moon now, and he finds himself missing his brother more and more with each passing day. Such is also the case for Sparkpaw too. Goldenclaw knows that his brother will take good care of the fiery apprentice, but he finds himself still worrying for both of them.
"Something on your mind?" Starkpelt asks.
The ginger tom had slowed his pace slightly to match Goldenclaw's contemplative paw steps. Goldenclaw forces back a growl. He doesn't want the traitor getting involved in his personal business. Yet, he finds himself telling Starkpelt anyways, the words escaping him like slippery fishes in the river.
"Just thinking about Arrowheart and Sparkpaw. I hope they're alright." He looks down where his parabatai rune is.
The rune was a steady attachment between Arrowheart and himself, letting him know without a doubt that the black tom was okay, and also feeling very happy as of recently. A few day ago, a certain terror had struck Goldenclaw that he knew wasn't his own. But that was long since gone now, replaced by a bursting happiness he couldn't explain.
I think Patchfur is responsible...
A hot flare of jealousy spikes in his chest, swamping the happiness he felt for his brother for a few brief seconds. When Arrowheart and the others returned, Goldenclaw knew he would have to have a talk with the taller black furred tom.
Goldenclaw didn't like the idea of his brother being so....attached (because he doesn't have a better word for it currently, and he doesn't know what else it could be) to a cat who was so much older than them both. To be honest, he does not trust Patchfur wholly yet, not because he gets bad vibes from the tom, but instead because of how foreign he is to HunterClan, to him and Arrowheart. There was no telling what the lethario tom cat could be bring to the fresh kill pile (because they don't have tables lol).
Starkpelt's ear twitches. "I'm sure they're fine. Patchfur has lived in TwolegPlaces before, as has your sister Sparkpaw. Arrowheart can take care of himself, and I'm sure he'll be safe with those two with him."
Goldenclaw flinches at that labeling word of sister, his heart pounding. If Starkpelt notices the action, he does not comment on it, content to continue walking down the side walk. The ground is an unnatural gray paste underneath his paw pads, the rough, slightly uneven feel of it making them itch and burn.
He lifts one of his front paws up mid stride to give it a quick lick, instantly regretting the action as the stink of gravel and Twoleg crap of some form bathes his tongue. Hastily he spits out the flavoring, a shudder rippling down his fur.
"Goldenclaw we're here." Starkpelt calls.
Goldenclaw shook himself out one more time. It was clear to him now that the disgusting taste wasn't going to leave him anytime soon. So he vowed to find the nearest water source on his way home to lose the nasty taste on his tongue.
"Great. This is where Jasmine lives?" Goldenclaw eyes the house curiously.
The building looked just like one would expect a Twoleg townhouse to look. The walls were white wood and each window adorned with an assortment of flowers. Two metallic gray monster were parked out front, their gleaming eyes lifeless and droll. Blue shingles line the roof with a gray block shooting out of it that reminded him of what Sparkpaw had called a "chimney". The door to the house matches the color of the roof, a shiny gold knob attached to it and a cat flap engraved into the bottom of the wooden rectangle. Leading up to what was likely the porch was a set of pale gray stairs, some of which covered in puddles of water. It made sense as it had been raining pretty recently as of late.
"Yes. Now let us make haste. I'm assuming you want to be home before sunset." Starkpelt murmurs.
Goldenclaw follows the older warrior up the steps with careful paws. Each step was measured to be around most his size, so the golden tabby found himself having to almost leap each and every step. Starkpelt was having to do the same thing, but his leaps were better measured, coming from experience of taking them several times. Goldenclaw wonders what had led the pale ginger warrior here in the first place.
Was he always curious about house cats? Or is Jasmine just that special?
Once they got to the porch, Starkpelt told him to wait besides the door while he went to get Jasmine. Apparently the Twolegs of the house didn't appreciate most stray cats walking into their home. Goldenclaw wants to point out the absurdity of that, seeing as the house has a door made for cats to come and go as they please, but he holds his tongue.
What feels like half an hour later, Starkpelt reappears outside with a gray she-cat beside him. The pretty cat wears a purple collar with a small jingling silver bell that blends into her fur. Goldenclaw presumes that this is Jasmine, if the way her tail is twined with Starkpelt's is anything to go by and/or the purring emanating from the she-cat's chest as she presses close to her mate's ginger flank.
Purple eyes regard Goldenclaw with a happy warmth he's unsure what he has done to earn. Jasmine is admittedly a pretty she-cat, though she's not really Goldenclaw's type. Her fur is much too gray and her flanks much too plump for him to be all that interested. No, there's only one she-cat for him, and having her by his side would mean the world to him. But as he and Sparkpaw are siblings, that just made his desire not meant to be. The young warrior felt horrible that he still wants his sister, but he can't just rid himself of these feelings overnight.
But I doubt even time will make them fade away.
He finds himself recalling something Dustcloud had once told him, back when Sparkpaw and Simon were trespassing on HunterClan due to Goldenclaw's decision to train them. Goldenclaw still is unsure why his mentor said such words like they came from personal experience as he doubts there was any bad blood between Dustcloud and his mate Comfreyleaf.
"To love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be destroyed."
Just thinking about that line sent chills down the young tabby's spine, and not of the pleasurable variety. More often than not lately, Goldenclaw found these words appealing to himself in his relationship with Sparkpaw. He loves her, but that love is tearing him apart inside. He assumes the same is true for Sparkpaw and her feelings towards him. He hates that he caused her pain of any shape or form.
"So you're the cat who convinced my Starky to become a house cat. Thanks so much for that! Now he can help me with all the little rascals." Jasmine murmurs.
"Little rascals-" Goldenclaw's sentence was cut off as four small bodies launched through the cat flap only to tackle him to the ground. The HunterClan warrior let out a surprised sputter as he hit the creaky wooden floor, stars dancing in his vision for a second until he rapidly blinks them away.
When his vision clears he finds his attackers to be none other than four little kits. Two were she-cats, one have soft gray fur and green eyes while the other was pale ginger. The other two were tom kittens. The fluffy white one reminds him a lot of Cloudkit, while the other who was covered in spots reminds him of dew drops splattered on the ground.
"Zephyr, Hattie, Pillow and Polka get off of Goldenclaw this instant! I told you not to attack guests!" Jasmine growls as the kittens scamper off of Goldenclaw's exposed chest floof to stare up at him curiously. Goldenclaw finds their curious stares mildly amusing as he hauls himself back onto his paws, though the feeling is a bit overshadowed by the cramping of his muscles from the unsuspected fall.
"It's fine. HunterClan has plenty of kits just like them." Goldenclaw explains. He doesn't dare mention that none of Comfreyleaf's kits would try sneak attacking him. Sandkit, Cloudkit and Tumblekit spent most of their acclaimed "Goldenclaw time" trying to get badger rides and playing moss ball with the tabby warrior.
Starkpelt nods, his amber eyes warm as he gazes fondly at his kits. "I can recall you being quite the troublemaker back when you were their age." He comments idly.
Goldenclaw shrugs. He would be lying if he disagreed with Starkpelt. Out of his litter mates, Goldenclaw was the most likely to get in trouble, and also the most likely to try sneaking out of camp (a venture that was done exclusively with Nightrose and Arrowheart only, as Brackenfoot and Dawnpaw thought it was much too silly).
"Well, I suppose that's fair. So," He leans his head down to eye the kits, three of whom are still staring up at him. The fluffy white one on the other paw is sprawled out on his back, snoring loudly. Goldenclaw notes that this kitten is the only one to seemingly have a collar. A thread of green is roped around the tom's neck, a small gold tag attached to it. The fat tom was the biggest of the four kits, and Goldenclaw could easily see the white tom as an old house cat, declawed and basking in the midday sun in the sanctuary of his backyard. "What's your names little ones."
"I'm Pillow." Pillow mewed, the blue eyed kit not opening his eyes as he continues his afternoon nap.
"My name's Hattie!" The ginger she-cat, Hattie mewed.
"I'm Polka." The other tom kit said gruffly.
"And I'm Zephyr. Are you a wild cat like daddy says? Does that mean you have no owners, and, and you eat bones!" The gray she-kit exclaims this last part, her green eyes wide and unblinking.
Goldenclaw shoots Starkpelt an amused glance. He guesses that the kits don't know that their father is a, or, well, was a HunterClan warrior. Zephyr seems every bit the curious, capable young cat that all HunterClan kittens are. He finds it a shame that this talent would be wasted slobbing away as a kittypet of all things. At the very least Polka, Hattie and Pillow act like house cats would, but he can tell from the gleam in Zephyr's eyes that she was so much more than just some soon-to-be collared kitten.
"Uh...I am a wild cat, yea. But I don't eat bones." He explains.
"Zephyr has a very active imagination, you'll have to forgive her." Jasmine explains with a whisk of her tail. "Kits, how about you go inside for a nap. Mommy and Daddy will be back in just a moment."
"Awwww, do we have to?" Polka whines.
The little tom had been pawing at Goldenclaw's legs as though they were fallen leaves. Hattie and Zephyr let out similar whines of disappointment, but one stern glare from their mother and all the kits are heading back inside. That is, aside from Pillow and Zephyr. The latter is trying hard to haul her brother inside, sharp teeth imbedded in the fluffy tom's skin. Yet Pillow either doesn't notice, or simply doesn't care as he continues to snooze on.
"You're kits are pretty cute. I'm sure some of them would've been great warriors." Goldenclaw admits. He doesn't have to mention which cat he's talking about, one nod from Starkpelt tells him all he needs to know.
"About that. Jazzy, do you remember what we talked about the other day?" Starkpelt asks his mate.
Purple eyes widen in surprise, a hint of sadness entering those luminous orbs. Goldenclaw hasn't the slightest clue as to why the kittypet might be sad, and finds himself uncaring to find out. Maybe it was just how he was raised, but most kittypet drama was just boring to him. That made Sparkpaw all the more of an exception in the case of his care. Even if the fiery ginger she-cat hadn't had warrior blood, he knows he would have wanted to stay by her side. Something about her just made him so happy, so filled with wonder.
"Yes. Are you sure?" She asks.
"This is the way it has to be." Starkpelt says without the slightest hint of doubt. In a brief instant Goldenclaw can see the warrior Starkpelt once was in the way he speaks, the pride of him a reminder of what had been lost in the pale ginger tom for some time.
"What's going on?" He voices his confusion.
"Goldenclaw. In honor of Clan tradition, I want you to take two of mine and Jasmine's kits to live in HunterClan and become warriors. Zephyr, Pillow," Both kits stare attentively at their father, Pillow having gotten onto his paws after several nips to his flanks from his sister. "You will be going with Goldenclaw to live in HunterClan."
"What?" Pillow asks sleepily.
"Yay!" Zephyr cries with glee.
Goldenclaw's mouth hangs open in shock. Of all the things he expected the second condition of Starkpelt's to be, he hadn't expected this. He eyes the kits with some suspicion. His previous analyzations of the kittens had been out of sheer pondering, not actual considerations as to whether or not they could be HunterClan warriors.
"W-what? Are you-you can't be serious. What about raising them? How will I explain this to HunterClan?"
Jasmine shakes her head. "Starky said that we have to follow clan tradition. We always planned to send half of them to HunterClan. But Starky." She turns to her mate. "are you certain we still have to do this? You won't be in HunterClan to raise them anymore."
"I know. But this has to be done. You will tell Blossomstar that I have died, and that you found my kits who will be raised in HunterClan as is tradition. Zephyr and Pillow will follow the path they were meant to." His amber eyes gain a far away look. "And I will follow mine. Goldenclaw, Zephyr, Pillow, may StarClan light your path." Starkpelt murmurs.
Goldenclaw cannot do anything else but nod, his throat unbelievably dry. He and the two kits bid the older cats behind and head back out into the TwolegPlace on their way back to the forest. The whole time he tries to figure out what he will say to Vultureclaw and Blossomstar, his head buzzing with incessant thoughts. And, as always, Sparkpaw remains a vibrant presence in the back of his mind, her green eyes peering right into his soul. Goldenclaw could only hope she was doing alright.