Rusty's eyes widened, his heart quickening. Who's Ravenpaw? And how did he die? Is he like Sandpaw? Their names are the same, why— the blue-gray she-cat known as Bluestar interrupted his thoughts with a clearing of her throat.
"This meeting is over," she said sharply before quickly walking over to the short red-and-brown tom who had collapsed at the entrance of the den. Another she-cat—this one a fluffy golden color—darted to the entrance of her den, helping Bluestar to nose the tom up and bring him out into the suddenly dreary sunlight.
"Bluestar!" a thin-faced tom called, running into the camp and dipping his head respectfully. "Ravenpaw is gone and—" he stopped speaking on account of Bluestar's silencing tail wave.
"I'm aware. I'm calling a clan meeting about it—please, gather up the apprentices," her tone was softer and more comfortable with the tom, and Rusty couldn't help but wonder if they were somehow related. The light brown tabby dipped his head once more before racing over to a cluster of fronds and an old tree stump and disappearing into a small area beneath the branching root system.
Bluestar elegantly padded forward, leaping up onto the High Rock and clearing her voice before expertly summoning all of ThunderClan to a meeting. "May all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the High Rock for a clan meeting!" she called, voice clear and strong.
Cats emerged from every which direction, and, as social as Rusty was... he couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by the sheer number of cats gathering. Tommy was front-and-center, only a few tail-lengths away from a large, brown, tabby who paced back and forth, a worried and grief-stricken look etched onto his face. The tom's thick tail swished from side-to-side as he walked, his large form only made larger by his prickled fur.
Rusty was shoved playfully and knocked out of his otherwise concerned thoughts by Graypaw, who gave a grin. "Finally decided to join ThunderClan?" he asked, a leaf sticking out from his bushy gray fur. He doesn't know.
From the top of the High Rock, Bluestar spoke once more before the flame-colored tom had to break the news to Graypaw. "Tigerclaw," she spoke, addressing the pacing tom, her voice the perfect example of a controlled leader. "What happened?"
The tabby tom's gaze surveyed the crowd of cats, and Rusty thought he saw something flicker in his amber eyes—was it satisfaction?—as he looked about. Then his gaze caught on Tommy, and further back, Rusty, and he narrowed his eyes before giving an upset, yet respectful, nod to the lithe blue-gray she-cat. He opened his mouth to speak, before closing it, before repeating the action and finally forcing words out, raising his head to shakily address the clan.
"I was on the dawn patrol with Redtail, Runningwind, and Ravenpaw, and we were near ShadowClan's border, marking it. Redtail went ahead to mark further on, towards RiverClan, and Runningwind stayed to watch for cats... while Ravenpaw and I stayed back to mark where we were already. Ravenpaw... wanted to show me something he had learned how to do... and... and... then he tried to leap over the bank of the river onto RiverClan land, and was so close... but a RiverClan warrior jumped at him from nowhere, and both disappeared into the water."
A gasp came from the clan, who had been listening intently to Tigerclaw's story, at the end of which the large tabby simply hung his head once more, as if he had run out of words to describe the situation. "They both disappeared under the water. He probably would've survived if not for the rains from several days ago... but now he's gone."
A frosty silence followed, and Rusty tried to fluff his pelt up to store his heat. He shouldn't have been so cold, as it was the warmer part of the year, but the large brown tom's story had chilled him—and it seemed, most of the clan—to their cores.
A screech rang out from somewhere in the clearing and a brown she-cat leapt out, tackling Tigerclaw to the ground. Her red-tipped tail lashed, and it took the fluffy golden she-cat from earlier and her twin, Lionheart—who the brothers had met in the medicine den earlier—to haul her off the tom.
Murmurs spread throughout the crowd as Tigerclaw rose to his feet, shaking his pelt slightly, a new nick in his ear. "You killed my son!" the brown-and-red she-cat yowled, barely restrained by the warriors beside her.
Tigerclaw lowered his head apologetically. "I did not. He was a good apprentice of ThunderClan," he mewed, deep voice slow and appropriately saddened. He raised his head once more, eyes going from the she-cat to the rest of the clan. "It was the RiverClan warrior Leopardfur who killed him. Both were taken by the river, despite RiverClan's abilities." The last part was a sneer, and beside him, Rusty felt Graypaw tense up more than he already had been.
"That's not true," he mumbled, yellow eyes wide with disbelief. He had crouched down to the ground, and seemed to be trying to hold himself up, rather unsuccessfully. "He can't be dead."
The clan seemed to be thinking the same thing. Throughout the throng of ThunderClan cats, unrest wrtihed, like a snake in the grass—Rusty had seen one as it slithered through, before his twolegs smashed it with a broad and flat stone attached to a stick—waiting to attack.
Finally, the pretty golden she-cat from before stepped out of the crowd and padded forward to stand beside Tigerclaw, rubbing her cheek against his in sympathy. The two's tails intertwined together, and Tigerclaw didn't look as upset as before, given the she-cat's presence beside him.
Bluestar's gaze was unreadable as she stood atop the Highrock and cleared her throat. "Ravenpaw was a good apprentice. While his death was untimely... he will not be forgotten in ThunderClan. His vigil will be tonight. For now... everyone, please return to your normal duties."
Tommy looked to Rusty, who looked back at him. Rusty shrugged, and Tommy copied the motion before Bluestar caught sight of the two once more and leapt down from the Highrock, gesturing with her tail for the toms to once again follow her into her den.
"Yes! Round two!" with that, Tommy raced after the she-cat, leaving Rusty beside Graypaw, who still looked barely able to move.
"Graypaw? You okay?" he asked, nudging his acquaintance—scratch that, distant friend—with his nose. Graypaw's pelt wasn't as fluffy as it had been when the clan meeting had first started, and he barely shook his head.
Nudging the tom up, Rusty led him to the medicine den, where he really hoped Spottedleaf would be able to help. The she-cat blinked upon seeing Graypaw, and immediately got to work, settling him into one of the soft nests and gently asking questions.
Rusty ducked out away from the hanging fronds and out from the cleft where the she-cat was questioning Graypaw and into the sunlight. He surveyed the camp, taking in all of it, before noticing the red-and-brown tom from earlier carefully watching him from across the clearing.
With a sudden lurch, he realized. He blinked before realizing he really needed to be at a meeting with Bluestar and Tommy—I hope she didn't claw his ears off—and racing across the earthen ground, and skidding to a stop a few tail-lengths away from the entrance to Bluestar's den, giving his chest a few quick licks, and padding in very calmly.
In the dimly lit den, he surveyed the scene carefully. Bluestar stared intently at Tommy, who was rattling off a list of herbs.
"... and then there's blackberry leaves, which my friend Butters gave me once, 'cause I got stung by one of those big bees—you know, the angry ones that attack you for no reason? And there's also—" the light tabby tom turned to look at his brother with a smile on his face, green eyes bright even in the darkness. "Hi Rusty! I was just telling Bluestar about herbs."
Bluestar's whiskers twitched in amusement, and she turned her unreadable gaze to Rusty. "We were discussing a potential... addition to the clan," she spoke calmly, considering her words carefully.
Rusty blinked. He hadn't considered this at all. He just wanted to make sure they were fed well. "I don't know if—" Tommy rolled his eyes and cut him off quickly.
"Rusty! Think of all the excitement! Fighting cats! Feeding the clan! Don't you want to be part of something? Part of something big?"
"I... guess," Rusty admitted, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "But I have a home with my housefolks. I can't just... outright leave."
The blue-gray she-cat nodded understandingly. "I understand you have a home already. But would you consider, perhaps, becoming a clan cat? If only for part of the time?" she asked diplomatically, an ear flicking.
"What do you mean?"
"A sort of... daylight warrior, perhaps? Hunting during the day, fighting for ThunderClan during the day, then at night returning to your twolegs?"
Rusty thought. A warrior by day... a kittypet by night, Rusty thought, tilting his head to the side. Tommy's words were drowned out by a torrent of thoughts, and he barely heard the tom's response to Bluestar. If I were to do this... it wouldn't be so different than it is now, would it? They don't see me... and they don't know where I go anyways....
"How about a trial?" Tommy asked, a joking smile coming onto his face.
"A trial?" Rusty's brows furrowed. "Like... guilty or inocent?"
"No!"
"Yes, I suppose that would be a good idea," Bluestar said, head tilted a degree to the left. "After all, you will be hunting for ThunderClan."
Tommy's jaw slackened and Rusty couldn't help but give a little grin. "Sure," he said, having considered the issue. "Sounds like a breeze."
"Rusty, are you insane!?" Tommy spat, surprised and taken aback by the idea.
"Then it's settled. If the senior warriors decide that you're suitable for clan life, you may join, if only by day. But if not, you will remain kittypets." She looked between the two for any objections and found Tommy silently seething with anger at Rusty's agreement. Rusty, meanwhile, sat straight, ginger tail curled around his paws, the perfect example of an annoying sibling.
"Let us go, then. I'll call the senior warriors together, and you... will wait." With that, the she-cat left the den, leaving Rusty and Tommy to look at each other in confusion. This will end well, Rusty couldn't help but think as he settled down to wait.
Tommy was hyperventilating beside him. "Rusty! Do you realize what you just signed us up for!?"
The ginger tom blinked slowly. "Yes? A casual interview with some ThunderClan warriors?"
"Did you see their faces when they saw us in camp!? Rusty, they HATE our guts!"
"Really?" Rusty asked, in his own world, barely registering the light tabby tom who paced back and forth.
"Yes! Did you see that brown-and-red tom back there? You know the one who dramatically flopped? He hates me! I know it!" with that, he melted into a pile of fur, paws over his muzzle, trying to hide from the world.
Rusty bumped his brother with his shoulder as Lionheart poked his maned head in the den, looking very much like a lion at that particular moment in time. "It's time," he whispered, leaping up to follow Lionheart, Tommy's dreary presence evident behind him.