In the distance, he locked his gaze onto the dark fog that covered the dark forest, looking for nothing in particular. Of course, he was wishing for someone to find him. He was wishing for something miraculous to happen, so that maybe, just maybe, he would have a chance to live. So, in the darkness he awaited his death, which was soon to come, and he awaited the miracle of his wish to come true.

Around him the scents of the lush forest had vanished, because around him on the cold floor, was a pool of sticky red blood that had all come from him. He was breathing heavily, and the only thing he could think of was the pain. This blood was royal, and so precious, yet ounce by ounce it oozed out of him, forcing the clock of his life to tick by faster than before with every ounce he lost.

As the moments and minutes tick by, he lay there, watching as the moon wasn't as bright as it was supposed to be. His body was losing it's blood, and his mind was blurring his surrounding as his eyes searched for something to help him. He knew very well, however, that he would soon lose his sight, and moments afterword, lose his consciousness.

Breath by breath he waited for his sight to leave him, or for a patrol to find him after he'd so loudly crashed into the dark forest in which his enemies lived. His heart was racing, and even though he was sure that cats couldn't see his wings, he was certain that death was upon him. Being a normal cat wouldn't matter to any of the patrols probably surrounding him at that moment, because they were too merciless to help a cat who was obviously dying.

Now, literally begging for death, he looked at the ground, each speck becoming bigger as everything seemed brighter, and yet his mind seemed to be foggy, and he couldn't think straight. Though the memories of how he ended up here still reined over his mind, the thought of dying was now taking over, yet the pain seemed everlasting, as if it was never going to end, acting as a punishment for his deeds.

The silver tabby tom, now in his final breaths of life, was thinking of his family and how much he would miss them. Cura, the best wing-healer in the flock, was his sister, and she was probably already crying for his betrayal and his exile. Tavo, the crowned prince, was his brother, and he was probably either a tad bit worried or grateful to his father because now there was nothing in the way of his coronation. Leona, the Queen of the Subir flock, was his mother, and she was probably arguing with her mate, telling him that he shouldn't have banished the silver tabby tom. But Evectri didn't care. Evectri was happy to have found a way out of those deaths.

A sudden gasp sounded in his ears, leaving Evectri to perk up and listen harder. Had someone really come to his rescue? Had someone really found him? The more important question, however, that came to the silver tabby's mind – was this a cat, or a Volan, and did this creature see him as a friend or foe?

Evectri pushed himself to focus on the bush where he'd heard the gasp, finding icy blue eyes staring back at him, wide with the fear and shock that they had found a sickly cat on the ground, just moments away from death. There was a few moments silence before Evectri coughed, unable to hold it back because of the forcefulness behind it. In a way, Evectri thought that it was perfect timing, because now if the cat heard him, their suspicions of his condition were now confirmed.

There were a few more moments of quietness before the cat stepped out from behind the bushes, an interested look on it's face. After a few steps forward, Evectri was able to see that it was a she-cat who had golden fur similar to the rays of the sun, and her icy blue eyes seemed to make him shiver. Her eyes were narrowed with confusion, though there was a hint of interest in them as well.

Suddenly the she-cat gasped again, noticing the amount of wounds he had, and how much Evectri was bleeding out. She gave a big jump, and was soon right beside him, which startled Evectri. He wasn't used to having a cat so close to him without having them claw his eyes out, or at least attempt to. All his instincts at that moment were screaming at him to fly away, but the reminder of his invisible broken wing kept coming up, pushing the urges away.

"Bless the Elders! Are you okay?" the she-cat shrieked, quickly looking over him, as he lay there, unable to really do anything but look at her. It was obvious that he wasn't okay, so in all honesty, he didn't have to answer. The she-cat's eyes looked away from his amber eyes after this, and continued looking over his wounds. Why was she doing this? That was the first question that came to his mind. Was she doing this for attention? Was she doing this to redeem herself for something she did? Or was she simply being. . .kind?

"Who are you?" asked the she-cat, who was now licking the blood off of his fur so that she could actually see where he was wounded. Evectri lay there, trying to figure out exactly what to say. He couldn't mention who he was entirely or she would probably attack him. And so, he lied. "I-I'm Evectri, a loner c-coming from the e-east. . ." Though his voice couldn't have been weaker, she heard him, and she accepted his lie.

The she-cat seemed interested by this, as if clearly curious as to why he'd come from the east. She continued licking the wounds, though, which felt so good. It was numbing the pain, and for once in his life, the pain didn't return. It made him smile, for no one he knew of had ever tried to mend him.

As the she-cat continued to heal him, a silence brewed around them, and so Evectri stared off into the distance, his thoughts overtaking the presence before him. At the moment, he was trying to figure out who this she-cat was. Because of his royal training, he knew a lot of his enemies. He knew almost all of them by name, because he'd met pretty much the whole tribe in battle. However, she seemed different. He'd never met her, or even heard about her.

Evectri was brought back from his thoughts, feeling quite overexposed as he lay there with a mysterious cat healing him. He had to carefully make sure she didn't touch his currently invisible wings, as well as make sure she wasn't purposely trying to kill him. It was a very uncomfortable feeling, and he didn't like witnessing it, but she was helping him, and so he let her.

That was when it dawned on him of who she was. Perfectly groomed golden fur that could be compared to the sun, strong yet slender body that could catch anything, and kill everything, icy blue eyes that showed authority and power, and yet, through all of that, she seemed to have a kind and gentle personality that no one could explain. Now he knew why he'd never seen her before: she was the Princess of the Cat's of the Storms, an the Princess of his enemies.

The Lone Huntress—also known as Huntress—stood up after that, looking very worried and scared for a reason that Evectri couldn't make out. "I'm going to go find some herbs and cobwebs so that these wounds won't get infected." And with that, she quickly left, leaving Evectri to return to his thoughts.

Huntress obviously didn't know who he was, so in turn he was okay there. But there was a chance she'd remember what the elders in her tribe told her about him, and then he would be done for. With this thought, he wanted to run away before she came back, but not only could he just barely move, he felt something keeping him there, as if he was too curious about her to actually leave. So, he waited for the Princess to return.

After a few moments, the golden she-cat came back with a mouthful of herbs and cobwebs. A silence over came them as she hastily applied the herbs to his skin, trying hard to keep the wounds from bleeding further. The quietness seemed nice, because Evectri was able to observe her every move and expression that flew across her face.

After a few more moments, Evectri was tired of the silence, and decided to test her emotions instead of observe them. "Lately I've been seeing winged cats," he whispered, his voice still not back to normal. "I-I think I'm going crazy. . .but maybe I haven't. . .if you've seen them. . .?" His ears were now listening intently for her answer, just waiting for her to respond.

It had to have been the most awkward question he'd ever asked, and the weirdest conversation in the universe. Not only did he know what the winged cats were, he was one, not to mention the prince of the whole flock. There was also the fact that he was talking to the enemy of the winged cats, acting like a helpless loner who'd just witnessed something. . .odd. The look on Huntress's face didn't help either, for the look of confusion, anger, and irritation was clouding her icy blue eyes, leaving Evectri even more interested.

"Yes, I've seen them," Huntress answered, trying look as if she was more focused on healing him rather than the conversation they were holding. "They live in that jungle island off the shore, and they seem to enjoy it. Though, they do come over here to hunt, and we've been fighting them. Let's just say my tribe and their flock don't exactly get along. Anyway, they're called Volans, which is another word for 'winged'. We only have a hunch on how they were created, which makes them all the more evil."

Another silence occurred after this as Evectri pretended to be shocked, confused, and thinking hard. It was then that he felt a rain drop, and when he looked up, he found dark cloud hovering over them. One after another, the drops hit him, and soon it back a down pour. "Come on, there's a dry place just over here," Huntress told him, helping him up before walking with him to a small cave where she set him down. He lay down before sighing with relief. He never liked water, not even rain. It just slowed him down.

"Hmm, it seems one of your wounds is already infected. . ." Huntress murmured as she tried to push the yellow puss out. It stung Evectri, and made the wound sore, but he let her do it, knowing that she knew enough about herbs and medicine to know how to do this right. After a few moments, she licked the wound again, and stopped, probably after the puss was gone and the blood had started to ooze out again.

The quietness continued, making Evectri uncomfortable. He wanted to know what was going to happen to him. Yes, to her, he was a cat who could probably be saved, but what if she tried to make him join the Cats of the Storms? There was no way he could, for that just increased the chance of her finding out he was a Volan. He calmed himself down, telling himself that he shouldn't jump to conclusions.

Evectri closed his eyes, continuing to repeat three words in his head: It'll be okay. . .it'll be okay. . .it'll be okay. . .He knew that this wasn't going to be the nicest of moons because of the fact he would need to heal from the wounds, and the fact that he was in the Cat's of the Storm's hunting zone made it even worse. However, with Huntress on his side and his father thinking that he was dead, there was nothing he honestly needed to worry about. With that, he fell asleep, welcoming the dreams that came to him with open arms.

Author's notes

Yikes, the spaces were messed up with this one too. Screw you wattpad XD

Okay, so the word Volan is © to me, as well as the rest of the story. Although Warrior Cats still belongs to Erin Hunter 3

Anyway, feel free to write me some reviews. Read my profile for FAQ of my books (This is prior to Warriors: The Servant's Promise)