The meeting went... interestingly. Questions flew over eachother, like the spray from the thick vine thing from which water flew out of that was attached to Rusty's housefolks' dwelling. Rusty had answered most of the questions directed at him with little trouble. Questions like "How old are you?", "Why should you join ThunderClan?", and "How will you be useful to ThunderClan?" were pretty easy. Tommy on the other paw... had a very interesting time.
When a question was asked of him—even from the most polite warrior, like the brown she-cat with the red tail-tip and a small red marking on her chest from earlier, whose name was apparently Robinwing, took him some time to answer, and he stuttered. A lot. But he did get around to answering, and when the "interrogation" as Tommy had mournfully called it, ended, the verdict was positive.
"Are there any cats who do not wish for Tommy and Rusty to join ThunderClan, whether half or full-time?" Bluestar asked of the assembled cats, who had met behind a ring of shrubs and bushes near the medicine den.
"I do," Tigerclaw, the tom who had reported Ravenpaw's death from earlier growled, amber eyes staring into Rusty's soul. "I don't like the look of them, especially the orange one."
The corners of Rusty's mouth tilted downward, and he sighed. "Really, Tigerclaw?" a voice asked, and Rusty looked up to see the large white tom known as Whitestorm. "You don't want fresh blood in ThunderClan? I know you're mourning the loss of Ravenpaw—" he nodded to Ravenpaw's mother, Robinwing "—but we need some new faces around here. They'll be a valuable asset to the clan, whether it be by hunting or defending it, and why wouldn't we want more loyal warriors?"
Tigerclaw grunted, glare going from Tommy to Rusty. "Don't like the looks of him. Besides, literally nobody thinks it's a good idea, aside from you—" he stopped talking on account of the brown-and-red tom clearing his throat.
He hadn't spoken at all during the interrogation, only watching Rusty and Tommy's reactions to the questions. "I think it's a good idea," he said, soft-spoken voice ringing out among the oddly quiet group.
"Why would you—" Tigerclaw stopped talking once more, being cut off by a glare from a silver she-cat who sat next to Redtail.
"He's going to explain his position in a second, stop interrupting," she said, blue eyes narrowed. Spottedleaf, who sat on the other side of Redtail, gave a nod, glancing over to her brother, whose amber gaze was cool. A few quiet laughs came from cats in the group, and Tigerclaw bristled with rage, despite quieting down.
"I saw him earlier. He was helping Graypaw across the camp to Spottedleaf. I'm certain he hadn't met Graypaw before today, but he helped. If that's not a warrior's heart, I don't know what is."
Tigerclaw glared at Rusty but remained silent, the mews of acknowledgment of this fact rolling over the council of senior warriors. "I still don't think it's a good idea," Rusty could've sworn he heard Tigerclaw mutter, but dismissed the thought. Surely not.
Bluestar nodded to her warriors. "All in favor of Rusty and Tommy joining ThunderClan," she mewed diplomatically, tall ears twitching, "put your left paw forward."
Rusty looked at all the different paws in amazement. Nearly all were forward—only three weren't. One belonged to the brown tabby—not surprising—and another to a tan-colored tabby, whose gaze was distrustful. The last one was a dark gray tabby whose yellow eyes bore into Rusty's pelt. ... Yikes.
Beside him, Rusty felt Tommy's fur lift, and he flicked his tail, trying to get the message across that it was over and there really wasn't anything to worry about, and Tommy, stop making our opponents mad.
YOU ARE READING
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FanfictionAn old story with a new spin. Once, there was a kittypet known as Rusty. Most know him as Fireheart, or even Firestar. But what if he got to the clans a little later? What if... he didn't manage to be a full clan cat at all? Would 'fire alone' still...
