Wolfpaw wandered the borders of StarClan and the shadowed forest, his heart aching. He knew what lay on both sides and yet couldn’t properly find his way into either. His eyes were missing, as they always were in these dreams, and blood dripped from his face and onto his paws.
“I guess it’s time,” Wolfpaw said to no one in particular.
As was his tradition, Wolfpaw sat down on a flat rock that was directly in between both forests and just… listened. Whispers filled the air, some pleading and some demanding. They were the souls of cats: StarClan or otherwise. He let his sight slide away, the darkness enveloping him once more, as he focused on the ghostly murmurs around him.
Wolfpaw was used to these voices. He had made conversation with many of their owners before – excitable Beaverkit, who had washed away in a flood; violent Frogpaw, who’s spite and envy led him to kill another apprentice of his own Clan; his own father, Gilastar, who demanded to know why he’d walk such a dark path. Beyond the clamoring voices were the softer, dimmer cries of cats who had not found their afterlife yet.
“You waste your time,” a cold voice said, overpowering the others. Wolfpaw opened his metaphorical eyes. It was Pineleap, a once-loyal cat from MangroveClan. Whatever had made him good in life had drained away when his leader murdered him for a crime he didn’t commit, leaving this bitter, empty shell.
Pineleap seemed to like to torment Wolfpaw in particular – his living mentor, Barkbreath, was from MangroveClan, after all.
“I don’t think it’s wasting time.” Wolfpaw got to his paws. “It’s always good to listen to all sides, Pineleap.”
“Cats never do.” Pineleap snarled. “They only listen to what they want to! What benefits them the most, that’s all they care about!”
Wolfpaw stayed silent as Pineleap began a rant. He knew it was better to let the old tom yowl to the skies about the injustices he had been dealt in life. Once the tabby finally calmed, he approached. “Well? You want me to do something for you, right?”
Pineleap’s ears twitched irritably. “Don’t interrupt your elders.” He grumbled. Wolfpaw decided not to mention the tom had been silent. “Anyway, I want you to talk to that damned LagoonClan medicine cat. Stagleap. Your brother, right?”
“He is.” Wolfpaw sighed wearily. He knew his brother’s path was darker than his own, soiled with blood and madness. What is it now? Another cat asking me to kill him? As if I could.
“Then bring him to me.”
Pineleap’s order surprised Wolfpaw enough that he blurted out, “Why?! How?”
The tabby’s tail lashed once. “Don’t question me!” He snapped. “As for how, you simply need to walk to his dreams.”
“That’s a job for a dead cat,” Wolfpaw said stonily. He didn’t miss Pineleap’s smug look.
“Then it’s a good job for you, isn’t it?”
Lashing his tail, Wolfpaw turned away. “You’re wrong.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll do it. But will you at least think about talking to Copperstar?”
“Fine.” Wolfpaw could hear the lie in Pineleap’s voice and inwardly sighed.
I’ll try next time, then. The young tom slid off the flattened rock and began walking back the way he’d come. As he moved, the world dissolved around him until he was walking in mist. He could feel his body tugging on him, but, with a huge amount of effort, he wrenched himself away.
“Stagleap,” Wolfpaw whispered into the mist. I hope he’s asleep and I’m not gonna be lost again. It had happened more than once – when a cat wasn’t sleeping, he ended up wandering the mists until they fell asleep or he was finally thrust back into his own body.
Dreamwalking wasn’t an easy task and a talent very few cats possessed. For Wolfpaw, and the FrostClan medicine cats before him, it was a gift forcibly shoved into them when they took the oath and removed their eyes.
Whether it was real or just a hallucination, Wolfpaw was never sure.
Thankfully, soon the mist whirled into the sandy beaches of LagoonClan territory. Wolfpaw was not surprised to see how different it was from the current Clan’s camp – Stagleap’s dreams were always twisted. Shells and shiny things that once lined nests now created designs and contorted shapes. Faceless cats watched in a circle around a belly-deep pool of water as Stagleap preached to them.
“We medicine cats should be pure!” Stagleap was shouting into his imaginary crowd, who cheered soundlessly. “We need to destroy those who would deny StarClan, soil themselves with breaking laws. We must kill them all and-”
Wolfpaw was unable to stand it any longer. “Stagleap,” He said, pushing his distaste down. His brother looked over in surprise, then leaped through the crowd to join him.
“Are we sharing a dream?” Stagleap asked absent-mindedly. “I guess this is a prophecy then.” Even in sleep, his eyes glowed with madness. The shadows swirled and fought around him, filled with blood and hatred.
Wolfpaw sighed, watching the misty bodies of the faceless cats fade away. “Perhaps. I need you to follow me, though. There’s someone for you to meet.”
Stagleap, drunk on dreams, didn’t question it. “Lead the way.”
The path to the planes to the afterlife was always harder to travel when one was exhausted, but Wolfpaw pushed onwards anyways. If I return with Stagleap, maybe he’ll convince Pineleap to talk to Copperstar. Maybe he’ll go back to StarClan.
Soon the brothers were in front of the flat stone. Stagleap looked around for a moment before turning to Wolfpaw and saying, “What’s this?”
“I’ve been waiting for you.” Pineleap’s voice cut in before Wolfpaw could begin. The tom appeared, stalking over to Stagleap with his head held high. “We have much to talk about.”
“Will you talk to-” Wolfpaw was cut off by Pineleap’s glare.
“I will. Now leave.”
Wolfpaw watched for a moment before turning away. His job done, he was now forgotten. That’s fine. I’m used to it. Stagleap was always more important, more noticeable. He began walking into the mist once more, looking forward to sleeping.