Elders
“Goldenflower, is it your wish to give up the name of warrior and go to join the elders?”
“It is.”
“Your Clan honors you and all the service you have given us. I call upon StarClan to give you many seasons of rest.”
The life of a warrior is difficult and dangerous, and many die young—in battle, of disease, or from a natural disaster. Those cats lucky enough to live a long life may eventually retire from their warrior duties to become elders. These elderly cats are viewed with the deepest respect by the rest of the Clan. Many moons of experience make them an invaluable source of advice for the Clan leader, and they keep alive Clan history by passing down the old stories.
As a young apprentice, I dreamed of being a warrior, and I wondered what it would be like to have kits. But I never thought about becoming an elder. Now I know I am lucky to have made it this far.
All the cats treat elders with respect. Even apprentices listen to me; I can’t say they always did when I was a warrior. We elders spend our days peacefully, for the most part—discussing the goings-on in the forest, telling stories about the old days, or just snoozing in the sun.
Don’t get me wrong. I still have plenty of fight left. I’d be ready to hunt or defend the camp in an instant. When I was a queen nursing Swiftkit, an elder named Rosetail died defending us from a ShadowClan attack. I would do the same for our nursery kits today.
There is one sad duty we elders perform. When a cat dies, all Clan cats gather for a final vigil. We share tongues and groom our Clanmate one last time. That night certain cats lie beside the body in mourning—its family, mentor, apprentice, and littermates. At dawn, we elders are the ones who take the body out of the camp for burial.
So it has always been. I’ve served my Clan for a long time, and it’s nice to finally have some peace and quiet. I hope I get to stick around and enjoy it for many moons to come.
Breaking The Warrior Code
I didn’t mean to break the warrior code. I just didn’t understand it.
Parts of it seemed stupid to me, so I figured I should just follow the smart parts. And Fireheart never stopped to explain why I had to follow these rules. He was too busy pointing out the things I did wrong instead of the things I did right. I was faster than Brightpaw, stronger than Thornpaw, and smarter than Swiftpaw and Ashpaw put together.
I was determined to show the Clan that I could be a great warrior, even though I was born a kittypet.
One day, I caught a pigeon just before it took off. Instead of praising my skill, Fireheart scolded me like a wayward kit. He said I didn’t respect my prey.
I was fed up with Fireheart’s lectures, so I ran off. He could have chased me, but he didn’t. I ran until I smelled the Thunderpath, and I knew I had reached Twolegplace. I thought about visiting my mother, but I was too worked up, so I decided to explore.
I saw a plump black-and-white tom sunning himself on top of a fence, and a long-haired gray cat chasing a butterfly in circles. It looked more fun than hunting for elders or sparring with Fireheart, so on I went.
I was just passing a pale green fence when a gate opened. It nearly scared my whiskers off! A Twoleg female stood over me, and when she saw me, she crouched down and made this odd cooing noise. I flattened my ears and hissed, and to my surprise, the Twoleg went back through the fence, leaving the gate open. Had I scared her off? I poked my nose inside to see. The grass was short, with flowery bushes around the edges. I watched the Twoleg climb some steps and go through the door of her nest. Then, the door opened again, and the Twoleg set something down on the steps. I waited until she had gone back inside; then I crept forward to investigate. It smelled delicious, like fish, only heartier and less slimy. It was pink and sitting on top of a hard white leaf. Next to it was another leaf, filled with something white that brought back memories of the nursery. I realized it was milk.
Before I knew it, I’d eaten and drunk it all. I was hungry! And besides, I couldn’t take it back to the elders. I wasn’t hurting anyone. I knew the warrior code said that we shouldn’t let ourselves live like kittypets. But I didn’t see why we should reject free food. It left more in the forest for everyone else, right? And it was so easy.
I started going nearly every day, whenever I could slip off. Soon the Twoleg let me come inside, where I saw a Twoleg male clomping about. They had a small, yippy white dog. It tried to play with me at first, but it wasn’t dangerous. It was barely smart enough to walk.
Mostly I got hard brown pellets to eat, instead of the yummy pink stuff, but they didn’t taste bad. I didn’t even mind the stale water.
Sometimes I wondered why my mother had sent me away from this life. But I didn’t mean to stay. I still wanted to be a warrior. I just thought I could have both. Well, I learned the hard way that I was wrong.
When the Twolegs caught me and put me in a wire web inside the belly of a monster, I thought that ThunderClan would be pleased to see the last of the kittypets. But I still wanted them to know that I had been taken against my will. Deep down, I was a ThunderClan cat. I wanted my warrior ceremony. I wanted to be admired as a great hunter and fighter. I wanted to go to Gatherings. And I’ll tell you a secret… I was already a little bit in love with Brightpaw.
Fireheart said StarClan led him to me, but I think it was luck that I ran into his friend Ravenpaw near the Twolegs’ new nest. Either way, when I saw Fireheart through the window, it felt like all of LionClan had come to rescue me. I was so happy that ThunderClan wanted me back.
Fireheart was angry, of course. But Sandstorm was nice about it.
Ashpaw was excited to see me again, and the elders loved hearing the story of my capture; I couldn’t help exaggerating a bit. I loved the way they thought I had been on some heroic quest instead of misbehaving.
After all that, I knew better than to go near Twolegs again. And I realized there were parts of the warrior code that I might not understand but that were there for a reason. Seeing my Clanmates listen to my story so eagerly made me want to be a warrior, like Fireheart, who really was a hero.
More than anything, I wanted to be a loyal ThunderClan warrior.
Have you ever loved another cat so much it made your heart ache and your fur tremble?
Feathertail understood me, and she listened to me. Her eyes were the clear blue of her river home. She died saving us all from Sharpclaw. After that, I wanted only to serve my Clan to the limits of my strength, and then to join Feathertail in StarClan.
But then I met Leafpaw. She was patient and kind. Her voice was like water flowing over pebbles, and her scent had hints of wildflow-ers in it.
What was happening to me? How could I fall in love with anyone—let alone a ThunderClan cat—let alone a ThunderClan medicine cat? I know the warrior code! I’ve always been a loyal WindClan cat. I knew that if I let myself fall for her, it could endan-ger my Clan. If my loyalties were divided, how could I be a true warrior? How could I defend WindClan against a ThunderClan attack, knowing that I might hurt her or someone Leafpaw loves?