A tale of a great warrior. ( Spiritstep )

[Greenflare]

( I kept my promise. :3 ~Red )

Greenflare. Not a cat many would like to meet. No. He was anti-social, strict, and a big grouch. It was hard for him to believe he even had a friend or two.

So, Greenflare did not even bother making any friends anymore. When he was younger and more care free, he had countless friends. Now, he only had his sister, kit, and mate as his friends. Well, make that two kits.

Recently, Greenflare had been told Littlepool was expecting his kits. It surprised him greatly, wondering how it even happened. He was told he had eaten great amounts of catmint and was losing his sanity while eating. Then, poof. It happened. Now, the black tom had a sickly kit. Tuftkit.

And, Greenflare appeared at the meeting that Emberstorm, the FireClan traitor, held. He was so greatly surprised and happy that he, out of all the senior warriors in TreeClan, was chosen to go on the patrol to FireClan, or wherever the fight would be. He knew that Emberstorm's ' peace-by-mouth ' war was going to fail, so Greenflare was ready.

Finchpaw was going to be a warrior with him. Their battles made both of them realize they could only trust each other now. Finchpaw was Greenflare's sister. They met in the nursery, both born to Oakspirit. Greenflare knew that he could trust everything his younger sister had and will say to him.

Greenflare magically appeared at the mouth of the Elders' Den, his tail swishing. In his jaws was a stick, a pile of moss hanging at the end. It reeked of mouse-bile. Greenflare looked around for the one elder he wished to speak to.

"Spiritstep." he called. "I have got something for you since those lazy apprentices won't do it." he meowed.

( <33 I hope it was not too long for you. I doubt it. -shotshotshot- )

[Spiritstep]

Her days spent in the comfort of the elder's den had dulled her senses. Light seemed fuzzier, colors brighter, sensations softer. Never was she a kittypet, but Spiritstep could imagine that this was what being one felt like, this warm existence that was merely to bide her off until she died. How ironic it was, how the cats of the clans considered their life honorable and noble, rough but majestic in it's glory, that they scorned the luxury and comfort of the kittypet's life when their own elder's received the same treatment. Treat her, they thought, with the greatest respect, the greatest privilege; little did they know that while she always wanted peace for her clan, she herself never wanted the peaceful life, only the thrill of the fight, the smell of blood, the feel of flesh under her claws!

In the elder's den, days merged together. What was the difference, when everyday was the same? Getting her ticks pulled, her moss changed, refusing little kits who wanted stories of her wild youth—(for, recounting days long past only made her bitter and depressed,)—tell me, what is the point of a life when it is nothing but repetition, when her death would meet her slowly in her bed instead of on the battlefield? Often, she would do nothing but stare at the sky, numb and weary, and watch the day turn into night, the blues melting into orange, into black, a palette she once so much enjoyed worn out by too many days spent doing the same thing.

A voice broke her from her thoughts. Greenflare. An interesting visitor, considering that they had not spoke much being that his prime had began after she had 'retired'.

Not turning to look at him, she responded. "What do you want? What do any of you want? Come to pity the old elder? Or to have a story of times passed? Go away, go away, you are too old for stories, Greenflare."

ooc: no, not at all <3

[Greenflare]

Greenflare threw the stick down. "Good. I did not want to do your ticks anyway." he meowed, licking one of his paws. "And, I do not need kit stories either." He eyed the former TreeClan leader, his ears flicking.

"I wanted to visit for no apparent reason." he meowed vaguely, setting his large paw down. "I also wanted to ask the mighty Spiritstep a few questions.

"Have you ever felt like you cannot trust a single Clan mate, except for, I do not know, your sister or brother? Have you ever fought in a battle with a sibling you hate so much you would not care if they died?" he growled, anger boiling inside his body.

"Have you ever done anything so stupid that your own love wants to kill you?" Greenflare whispered, eyes glaring wildly. Everything the tom had just said related to him. He could not trust anyone but his sister, Finchpaw. He had battled his brother, Dustclaw, many times. He would not even care a single bit if Dustclaw died. His mate wanted to kill him because of his recent ' incident ' with Littlepool.

"If your slow mind has not yet guessed, I relate to all of those. I do not pity an elder. So, I want your advice on what I should and what I shall do about my little problems." Greenflare finished, staring down at the elderly leader. She was not like anyone has described her. She was weak now. Weak, old, no use to TreeClan at all.

[Spiritstep]

The stick clattered to the ground. Spiritstep did not turn to meet his eyes. He was angry. That was refreshing. Hate was the most pure of all the emotions. Hate could build civilizations, destroy thousands. It was the hate that coursed through her that built her empire, and it was love that destroyed it. She had too much to lose, so when her time came she lost it all.

Throughout his speech, Spiritstep did not move. She kept her eyes fixed on some invisible entity, perhaps, a memory of her past, or a fixture of her imagination. Luxury had made her less than sane, had killed her reflexes, but it had not dulled her mind, her spirit. And so, when Greenflare was finished, she spoke.

"I may now live a life of unwanted privilege, but I was not born from it, Greenflare. Maybe, at a time, my siblings might have loved me, perhaps, I had friends; but to become leader, to reach such glory, I had to instill hatred in each of every one of them. I had to strike them down. Do you think I was born into this? Do you think cats willingly bowed down for me, even when I became deputy, leader? I had to make them. I had to commit such sin, such crime, surely this fall from grace is my divine punishment." Spiritstep hissed, finally turning to look him in the eye.

Voice growing dark, she lifted her head. "I have loved no cat except for myself, no being except for my clan. Despite the common belief, love is not something required to live. Love is not something you must find, nor does it complete your life. I did not become leader out of love, or brotherhood, or wisdom. I became leader because I achieved everything I ever had by working for it. And now, as I rot here in this hole, the only thing I have left is myself. Not friends, or lovers, or my clan, just myself. If you feel as if your life has been torn apart by betrayal, realize that it was always bound to happen. Betrayal is inevitable, you merely must be the first to betray." She growled, finishing her speech. Her words had not wavered, her eyes had not moved from his. Spiritstep could tell he loathed her, and she did not care. She loathed him, as well.

[Greenflare]

Greenflare shrugged, smirking. "Good enough." he meowed, flicking his ears. "So, now what does the mighty Spiritstep do now that she is retired. Let little kits nag her for stupid stories? Let stupid apprentices pull her ticks?" he hissed, enjoying aggravating the former leader very much.

Greenflare lashed his tail, cackling. "Come on. Do you have any fighting skill left in you? I have always wanted to fight a leader." he meowed, snorting.

[Spiritstep]

Apparently content by her speech, the younger tom went on. It seemed like he was getting a kick out of insulting her. How insolent, how impertinent. Surely she was never a saint, but at least she knew how to act, how to charm and bewitch—although depression and old age had sapped her of her desire to even bother to do so as of late.

"I would encourage you to look at the reasons why you have not fought a leader, Greenflare. It is a honor to do so, and even if I was in the condition to fight no amount of belittlement would convince me to bestow such a honor upon you," Spiritstep quipped, looking him in the eye. "And as for what I do, well, that is none of your business now is it? Why, surely you must have very little to do yourself if you ignore your duties to come and insult a crippled elder." She jeered, smiling wryly. Perhaps she was getting some enjoyment out of this as well.