This Is Wrong But It Feels So Right (Stormwind)

(Three!

I would suggest we just skip to the day of the rescue/battle.)

(They took four of Blackstar’s lives, right? Or was it only three? Counting the one that got taken during the time skip)

Doesn’t know what to do with the cats.

Robinstar had adjusted well to being a leader, doing a decent enough job keeping busy and keeping the clan running as they ramped up their preparations for a war with the other two clans.

Emberpaw hadn’t yet had an opportunity to be sent out on her mission. Again, the Clan had been so busy that she just hadn’t been ordered to do it yet.

Robinstar, meanwhile, had gotten her own nine lives, and instructed Emberpaw on her special mission. She was to sneak crowfood into the fresh-kill piles of both Lakeclan and Meadowclan to sicken their warriors, and perhaps even start an epidemic.

Three days after Miststar had died, Swiftfoot was standing in the middle of the clearing and arranging patrols, a necessary task that she nonetheless disliked. In the past days, she’d only been able to take one more of Blackstar’s lives, her and Robinstar having been so busy, first with Robinstar’s ceremony and then with restructuring the Clan to their own ideals.

(Ok!)

(Sure. Maybe three days?)

(Ok. Can we skip a day or two then, maybe?)

(Not for a couple of days at least. They need time to prepare)

(How long do you think until Blackstar gets rescued?)

Swiftfoot glanced around, bored and wondering what to do.

“Fair enough,” Robinsong Replied, padding off to see if she could help in the vigil preparations.

Swiftfoot shrugged again. “I don’t really care. I just figured it was better not to push until we could solidify our power.”

“That’s too bad for them.” Replied Robinsong unsympathetically. “You know I’m not one to renege on the promises I make to friends.”

Swiftfoot shrugged. “No one wants to go on a patrol with me,” she said by way of an explanation. “No one is happy about your choice of deputy.”

Robinsong glanced to her friend-turned-deputy curiously when she didn’t leave as well.

The cats quietly dispersed to do whatever they do. Swiftfoot stayed behind, though.

“Thank you, Emberpaw. I’ll speak to you in private after our vigil.” Robinsong dismissed the cats with a flick of her tail.

Tentatively, one of the apprentices, Emberpaw, approached, glancing nervously at her brother, Redpaw.

Robinsong glanced around the circle of warriors warily when nobody volunteered for her special mission. “Are you going to force me to pick one of you? I expect better.” The she-cat huffed, casting an accusatory glare at the warriors around her.

The warriors seemed alarmed by this announcement, especially the queens, but said nothing. Mostly because none of the kits were even four moons old yet. The oldest kits had only just turned three moons old.

After that appointment, Robinsong announced that all of the kits over four moons old would begin their battle training the next day, in light of the ‘grave threat’ posed by an alliance of the other two clans. In addition, the new leader would need one of the current apprentices or warriors to volunteer for a special mission of some sort.

Swiftfoot bowed her head and acted humbly as she was appointed.

Even though she didn’t have her title yet, Robinsong appointed Swiftfoot as her deputy, just as she’d planned for moons on end.