The world sometimes goes by faster than you can register. There are things that happen and they don't care if you're on board or not, because they're going to happen anyway and you'd better get prepared, because ready or not here they come.
Such would be a good description of Redripple's life so far. The current of life zigged and zagged and it took her with it, no matter how much she dug her claws in and wished it wouldn't. She was helpless and she knew it; well, until now, that is.
Redripple was born in ThistleClan. The Clan made its territory in a dense forest with undergrowth often coated with thistles; a given, considering the name. The Clan bordered its rival, BrookClan; a similarly forested territory, although lower and it tended to become a floodlands occasionally during the year. The BrookClan cats were used to it, but Redripple never understood how they could manage to deal with getting their paws wet quite so often.
The first curve in her life was when she was an apprentice, and the rogues came. They posed as a group of friendly travelers, seeking out a new land for theirs had been destroyed. The ThistleClan leader, Stonestar, allowed them to stay in camp for a few suns to allow them respite from the dangers of the unfamiliar wilds, even if only for a few days. This was on the condition that they hunted and preyed for themselves, which they did easily enough. However, they also watched and learned, and the night the Clan's camp was emptiest--on the sacred night of the Gathering--the rogues sprung their attack. They intended to drive out the cats and keep the territory for themselves, and several ThistleClan cats died that night; some even in their sleep, unable to waken for the coup that had overtaken camp.
The rogues were clever, but the Clan was strong, and word was sent to the Gathering; before long, both BrookClan and ThistleClan cats poured into camp to take on the rogues. The remaining rogues left, but they had stolen two kits in the time, had eaten more than their fair share of the fresh-kill stocks, and had damaged the dens and barricades to the camp. It would take ThistleClan a long time to recover from the betrayal of those 'wandering travelers', and Stonestar never forgave them. Paranoia took over him; he trusted his inner circle, but few others, and outsiders were another matter entirely.
The second curve came at the Great Fire, only a moon after she had become a warrior. It originated in the BrookClan territory, but wind carried the fire over the stream that divided them to the ThistleClan territory. Both Clans had to escape as the furious wildfire blazed, going even further beyond their own territories. No cat was ever sure how the fire started, but it left an impact on both of the Clans. Many cats were lost in the tragedy that beset them, including Redripple herself, but it was not the end. Not yet. The Clans moved to a nearby forest, staying more entwined than they ever had before. The new territories were smaller, the camps closer together, and the Gathering was held simply on the sandy beach of a lake. Redripple never grew used to the new territory; it always felt so foreign and lonesome, especially without her mother or siblings there to enjoy the gentle breeze or the sound of prey with her. She still did not recall the exact moment she had lost them, but she knew in the frantic escape of the fire they had been near her side one moment, and the next, gone.
Then, there was the final twist in that current of life, and it was the harshest one. A lone cat with eyes more tired than she had ever seen before. He gave himself no name, and simply asked to speak with the leader, Stonestar. Redripple later learned from the cat that he had spoken to BrookClan's leader as well, and that Stonestar's reaction did not fare any better than the other's. Stonestar gave no heed to the strange cat, threatening him; but it was Redripple who spoke out, to request to hear his tale. Clearly the pains of the world had gotten to him, and he spoke with words too wise and tired for a cat his age. He spoke with the stars in his eyes.
"You must leave; your ancestors will it," the unnamed stranger had told them. "A star will fall from the heavens, a star not sent by your ancestors, and neither one that they can derail. Please, listen to me. If you do not leave, you will all die."
Redripple remember the cacophonous outrage that had spilled out from her Clanmates, and she'd faintly seen the look on the stranger's face fall in quiet disappointment, or even guilt. He's not lying, she realized with a jolt. Has StarClan really spoken to him? She heard Stonestar's laughter--more nervous than amused, as if hiding his anxiety with humor--and she heard him tell the stranger to leave them.
"We will not listen to the inane ramblings of a rogue," the leader snarled. "Leave at once, or my warriors will make you!"
The stranger turned tail and ran. Redripple followed, and she was not missed. She spoke to him, quietly, believing; and he seemed hopeful. There was one of these cats that believed him--more, in fact, as Redripple heard the ferns rustling and saw two of her friends stepping from the undergrowth.
"We will go with you," one of them quietly said.
There were six cats that left the forest that night; three from ThistleClan, two from BrookClan, and the tired stranger himself, leading the way. He explained his dreams, and how he'd never been told of StarClan but has always known of them, and how the visions have been keeping away his good night's sleep for the past moon. He'd realized someone was in danger, but only realized it was the Clans now.
They left. They traveled, and as the days wore on, Redripple was beginning to doubt him. He said they needed to keep going, though; that even if they thought they were far enough away, they weren't. The forest was going to be destroyed.
One day, Redripple turned to watch the horizon, and saw fire light the sky.
It was done. Life's current had dragged her somewhere new.
