A/N: Please do not comment on the fact that some of the characters have been switched over to different parentages or litters. This was done on purpose.
The fresh scents of the forest hit her nose as she padded down the line of fences. Her human nose couldn't have been able to pick up the multitude of smells which assaulted her with every gust of wind, but she wasn't human right now. She was the cat she had always wanted to be, running free over the roof tops of houses in impossible mighty leaps and bounds. Hard black paw pads protected her from the rough surfaces.
She was in the body of her original character Foxtail, wearing it like a costume, as she dreamed of places far away from her broken home. She couldn't believe that her dream could be so vivid; it never had been before. But she wasn't going to question it. After all, why look a gift horse in the mouth?
She made another impossible leap off the roof of a building and landed neatly in a crouch on the top of a fence. She pushed herself to her paws, welcoming the feel of powerful muscles rippling under her fur and sun warming her dark fur.
The sun was high in the sky. Before her, a wall of green leaves and tree trunks ran parallel to the line of fences, blocking her view of the world beyond. She sat down and looked over the oaken fence, the kind with boards running down the center and a wall of wooden planks on only one side.
This wall was designed with the intent of keeping critters from getting into the garden. She couldn't help but feel proud she had managed to get on top of the fence. It felt good to have that small accomplishment under her belt.
As if they could keep me out! Her sun-gold eyes sparked with amusement. This was exactly how she imagined she'd be. She was Foxtail the warrior, running away from trivial domestic squabbles to save FoxClan from the evil forces of BloodClan! Or she was a medicine cat, bravely saving the Clan from previously unheard of diseases, searching far and wide for a cure!
I wonder what my dream is going to be like today, she mused, licking her reddish shoulder. Her large size and long head, rusted black-brown coat, plus the white on her toes and tail-tip and all along her underbelly and throat, made her look like a fox. She purred at her own disguise, wondering if a fox would mistake her for one of them instead of a cat. Probably not, she mused, simply because she wasn't at all as red as a fox, but it was nice to dream.
A rustling in the forest drew her gaze to the forest floor, her nose turned towards the wind, hoping for signs of prey. She was so focused on the forest that she barely twitched when a cat's meow sounded behind her. She jumped when the fence shook under her paws as a round plump tom joined her.
When the fence steadied under her, she turned with surprise towards the smaller black and white tom. She noted that half his face was a black smudge. He had a friendly but nervous grin on his face, worry lining his eyes.
"Sorry to startle you, miss!" he meowed. "My name is Smudge! Are you from another housefolk?"
He leaned close to sniff at her. She backed off, ears flat and fur fluffed up.
"I am not a-" she began, before remembering that yes she was a cat. "Oh, yeah," she said, forcing her fur to lay flat and flicking with her tail down the rows of houses. "I live with my housefolks down the street. I thought I should explore some of the neighborhood today."
"Nice to meet you!" he meowed, with a weary glance at the forest. "I've never seen you around before! Have you ever been out of your nest before?"
She couldn't help but smile. "This is my first time here, actually. Have you ever heard of a kittypet named Rusty?"
Smudge suddenly became very serious and very worried. "Yes, I have," he admitted. "He was my friend before he disappeared off into the forest two moons ago. He hasn't come back." His face fell before he forcibly brightened. "If you see him around the neighborhood, tell me, okay?"
She nodded, her gaze drifting out towards the forest. "Which way did he go?"
"He met a few feral cats before he left," Smudge meowed, looking at her with concern. "You're not thinking about going in there, are you?"
'Foxtail' laughed, her heart pounding in excitement. "You're kidding, right?"
"It's dangerous," he said, concern and anxiety making his fur fluff up. "There are feral cats out there! They will eat you alive!"
"Do you think he joined them?" she meowed, ignoring his words of warning.
Smudge looked at her, head tilted and tail wrapping around his paws like a hug. "I don't know. He said he was going to, but I don't know. They're dangerous and I haven't heard anything from him. He could be dead." He was quiet for a moment, studying her thoughtfully. "Are you thinking about joining them?" Smudge's voice became very tight. He whispered his next words, as if to himself. "You have the same look in your eyes as he did."
"Hey, I'll be able to find your friend," the fox-colored she-cat meowed, waving away his concern with her tail, "and maybe I'll be able to bring back news of him."
"But it's dangerous out there!" he meowed. "You might never come back out again."
"Then I'll be careful," she meowed soothingly, excitement making her wish she was running through the forest. "Where's your sense of adventure, Smudge?"
Smudge shook his head and rose to his paws as if to follow as she leaped off the fence and took a few bold strides towards the forest. "They will kill you!" he hissed quietly, as if afraid that the feral cats would hear him.
"Sorry, sir," she meowed with a carefree wave of her tail, "but I gotta fly!"
She felt like she was flying. She pushed passed the scent line and entered the forest without any hesitation, racing towards where she hoped the camp would be. She felt like it was a dream come true, as if she could race into the camp and shout "I am Foxtail, warrior of SkyClan!" or something like that and except the other cats to just accept her. She could pretend for a moment she was a part of a whole family.
But ThunderClan would be suspicious, she thought to herself, if she showed up with a Clan name but smelled of rogue. She should pick a loner's name.
After a while, she came to a halt, panting, feeling her muscles ache from the flat out sprint. It felt like she had been running forever. When she looked around, she couldn't tell where she was or how far away from the twolegplace she had run. For all she knew, she could have accidentally crossed over RiverClan territory.
She sniffed the air and felt a prickle of anxiety. She had no idea where a ThunderClan patrol might be, and she couldn't smell the twolegplace or thunderpath. The great forest suddenly felt like a deathtrap, hiding dangers that she couldn't see or smell. For a second, she wondered if it was a good idea to join ThunderClan or to be out here in the forest at all. She could barely remember Smudge's warning, only the horror and concern in his mew.
ShadowClan might be more receptive to me, she thought, turning northward and padding more cautiously through the forest. Then she remembered what Smudge had said about how long his friend had been in the forest and tried to remember the timeline from the wiki. She shuddered at a realization. I don't want to join ShadowClan while Brokenstar's in charge!
She was hopelessly lost and had no idea how to get back to the twolegplace. Heading northward would more than likely make her cross paths with the thunderpath and she could follow that back to the twolegplace, but staying on the ground would make her susceptible to an attack from a patrol. She had no idea how to differentiate the smells of the forest with those of the forest cats. She was a sitting duck on the ground.
I need altitude, she thought. ThunderClan doesn't travel by trees.
With renewed vigor, she threw herself up the trunk of a tree and clawed her way clumsily onto a tree branch. From her vantage point, she could see beyond the underbrush that might have hidden warriors from her view and see many foxlengths into the forest. There was a clearing up onto her left, southward of her position. She couldn't see the thunderpath anywhere.
That could be ThunderClan camp! she thought, excitement pulsing through her. She hesitated only briefly, a warning whispering through her mind telling her idea was dangerous and stupid. This would be her first and perhaps only chance to see how her subconscious saw the ThunderClan camp. Ignoring the warning, she bunched up her muscles and sprang into the next tree, quickly bringing herself closer to the clearing. Finally, she came to a halt.
It was a small clearing but completely devoid of cats. Her heart sank briefly before her attention focused on the only living creatures in the clearing. There was a big fox, possibly female, and three smaller foxes around her. They were trying to climb a tree, but they seemed unable to stay in the tree. One adventurous dogfox threw himself up to the lowest branch and then immediately overbalanced and fell back down. The largest fox watched them from the safety of a thick tree branch, obviously amused at them.
They're like one big happy family, she thought with a pang of homesickness and a sigh. I wish my family was like them. Carefree, instead of serious and grim.
She shook herself, suddenly annoyed. It's not like I'm stuck here, she told herself. I can go back whenever I want!
With a tired sigh and her mood effectively ruined, she settled down in the tree and watched the foxes, her gaze studying their stripe-less ginger coats, brown paws and ears, and white tail tips and muzzles. She noticed a flash of light on their ears and realized with a start that the mother fox had a tag in its ear. It was bright blue and stuck out like a sore thumb. The she-cat was surprised to see it.
Could a human be watching them right now? she wondered, glancing nervously around. What would they think if they saw her there with her unusual coat? Would they mistake her for a fox?
Suddenly, she didn't want to be a fox-colored she-cat, and she wished she was either a brown tabby or a red tabby. Preferably dark. She glanced over herself, and realized that beyond the dark red swirl in her side, she still looked very much fox-like. Her body was perhaps a bit thicker than a normal cats', stocky and built with power in mind. Her tail was shorter than average, with long fur, like a fox's bush tail. Any human who looked at her would probably not confuse her for a fox, but they'd know she was an unusual kind of cat and probably want to capture her as well.
She rose to her paws, anxiety prickling her stomach, and she leaped to the next tree, hoping to catch a glimpse of any twolegs that might be hiding in the forest but spotted a different kind of movement. A dark brown tabby tom was crouching and hiding half underneath a bush, his paw half raised in preparation for a charge. His eyes were pointed towards the foxes.
For a heartbeat, she was glad she was up in a tree; the tom would be unable to scent her on the winds and mistake her running around for a squirrel or some other tree-dweller landing on the branches. Then she realized that he was going to attack the fox and her cubs.
I have to stop him, she thought, but when she moved closer to the tree directly over him, she realized he wasn't the only tom there. Another tom, a black tabby, was crouched just around the corner. A third, a tan tabby with black stripes, was on the brown tabby's other side, his tail twitching eagerly. There was no telling how many more of them waited to pounce.
Feeling defensive of the foxes, she moved to the next tree and positioned to cross over to the tree the foxes were playing in. The big vixen turned toward her, her wide hazel eyes locking on to the she-cat's own sun-gold. The vixen yelped a warning and made to bound down the tree, where she would be better protected by her kits.
I need her to run, thought the she-cat. She could remember a few things about foxes, the only things she learned while during her time studying cats. They were skittish and tended to avoid a fight unless it meant a morsel of food. Bunching up her muscles, she lunged into the tree and used her momentum to bounded towards the vixen in a few powerful strides, shoving the vixen out of the tree. With a yelp, the fox landed on the ground, bouncing up to her feet and hobbled to the edge of the clearing, raising a paw as if it were injured.
Not good enough, she thought, ignoring the spike of guilt when she saw the injured appendage. She needs to run! Now!
Without waiting another second, she bundled up her muscles and leaped out of the tree, landing on one of the kits and giving it a bit on it's shoulder. It ducked out from under her and snapped at her shoulder, leaving teeth marks in her fur. The foxes had scattered, hovering at the edge of the clearing and away from the hiding tomcats.
But the she-cat had no idea where the rest of the patrol was, if there was more than three, and she knew if the foxes didn't run off now then they'd be forced into a fight they would rather avoid. Sucking in a deep breath and fluffing up all her fur, hoping to seem larger than the foxes themselves, she charged at the vixen and swiped at her, claws snagging and tugging on flesh. The vixen yelped and twisted to bite the cat's paw, but the she-cat had staggered backwards out of reach. She stared at the tiny spots of blood from the vixen's wounded side, shocked at herself and remembering too keenly the feel of flesh in her claws. When the vixen looked away from her, the she-cat remembered herself and hissed. The vixen's gaze snapped back to her.
There's no reason for you to stay! she thought, becoming desperate. She couldn't fight all four of them if the kits decided to get involved. I've just injured your kit!
As if to remind his mother of his presence, the injured dogfox whined, his expression angry and burning. The vixen looked at him and the she-cat saw the fox make up her mind. With a bark, the vixen turned and fled. The three kits took a heartbeat to follow.
"ThunderClan!" yowled a very authoritative voice.
All around her, the forest came alive with cats. Five of them, having completely surrounded the clearing, emerged out of hiding and approached her. Suddenly terrified they'd attack her, she turned and raced up the tree the foxes had been playing in a moment before. She looked down at the warriors, tense and ready to swipe at them if they thought of climbing the tree. They surrounded the tree but remained on ground level.
The dark brown tabby and the black tabby were both there, almost shoulder to shoulder, and along with them was a yellow tabby, a tan tabby with black stripes, and a dusky brown tom with stripes on his paws and tail. They stared up at her with hostile or stern expressions.
"What are you doing out here, kittypet?" spat the black tabby, his dark gray coat and black stripes contrasting greatly with his sharp, yellow eyes. The she-cat guessed that he was Darkstripe.
From the safety of her tree, she found sudden confidence. "Kittypet must be a compliment," she said with a sneer. "I've never seen such a bunch of cowards in my life! What were you planning on doing to those foxes, huh? Kill them all?" She lashed her tail in disgust.
The black tabby's fur fluffed up in rage. "How dare you!" he snarled. "We are ThunderClan warriors!"
"Another word for coward, if you ask me," she meowed, adopting a mocking voice. "'Let's bloody up old vixen and three kits and make them no ran away. That good plan! ThunderClan so smart and brave!'"
"As if you're any smarter!" yowled the tan tabby. "You tried to take them all on by yourself!"
"And look how that turned out," she meowed. "I survived and you're still a coward."
"But you're the one stuck up in that tree!" meowed the tan tabby, looking pleased with himself.
The she-cat hissed at him. "You come up here and say that to my face, furbrain. Oh wait, if you did that then I'd knock you out of this tree. Then where'd you be? Back at the bottom, that's where!"
"Kittypet!" snapped the tan tabby.
"There you go using that word again," she meowed. "It must mean 'Greatest Fox Fighter Ever'! Obviously none of you are worthy of this title."
The tan tabby tensed, as if preparing to spring up into the tree. The she-cat crouched, raising a paw to strike him, eyes narrowed as if daring him to to do it.
"Enough!" yowled the yellow tabby tom, flashing a stern look at the tan tabby.
The tan tabby looked like a kicked puppy, and the dark red she-cat almost felt sorry for him. However, her attention quickly shifted to the yellow tom.
"Who are you?" he asked, "and what are you doing in ThunderClan territory?"
She raised her head, ready to introduce herself as Foxtail but then remembered that might be a bad idea. Her tail twitched as she thought of the next best name. "My name is Bark. I'm a loner, and I used to live in the twolegplace." She paused, thinking carefully about the rest of her answer. "It is no longer safe for loners in the twolegplace so I decided to move elsewhere."
"A she-cat shouldn't be wandering around the forest alone," meowed the dark brown tabby tom. He has a distinguished scar across his muzzle and he spoke in a calm, polite manner. "It could be dangerous."
Bark didn't like his choice of wording. "Is that a threat, tom?" she asked, her lips curling up but it paused, unsure of whether to be a sneer or a confused expression. "Because if you're the most dangerous thing out here, then I think I can handle myself." She narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to do something. "Just come up here and let me show you."
The dark brown tabby flicked an ear but did not rise to the bait, his amber eyes staring into her sun-gold ones.
"Tigerclaw makes a fair point," meowed the yellow tabby tom. "You shouldn't have entered our territory."
"There are a lot of things I shouldn't have done," meowed Bark, "and a lot of things you shouldn't have done. That hasn't stopped us, now has it?"
"You should leave," meowed the yellow tabby tom. "We will escort you off our territory."
"Now wait just a second," meowed Bark. "What makes you think I won't just come back? I know how to avoid your patrols now, and I know how to get the upper paw against you if you decide to attack me. I could probably make a living in your treetops. There's a squirrel or two I could catch when you aren't around and I'm sure I could find an abandoned owl nest that could serve me just fine."
Tigerclaw snarled. "Are you making threats?"
"I'm pointing out a flaw with your plan," meowed Bark. "Now, on the other paw, I could probably be an asset to your little group. After all, you could probably use a brave cat that can handle four foxes all on her own."
"Don't assume anything about us," hissed the tan tabby, affronted. "We would have handled it fine without your help."
"She does make a good point, though," meowed the dusky brown tabby tom. He was obviously younger than the others, his head a bit too big for his frame. He looked at the yellow tabby expectantly. "And Bluestar has said before that she wished we had more warriors in the Clan. At least, Bark isn't a soft-hearted kittypet."
Bark found that statement ironic but kept her mouth shut as a spark of hope flickered in her chest. She felt excitement fill her paws.
The yellow tabby tom grew quiet and thoughtful. "Very well. We will take you to see Bluestar," he meowed.
Bark shook her head. "I don't trust you enough to escort me anywhere right now. How do I know you won't just escort me off the territory? Besides, if you knew half the things tomcat rogues would do to a molly like me, you'd understand why. I will wait here for your leader."
"You are in no position to make demands!" growled the tan tabby tom. "We have you surrounded."
"Fine, attack me. Let's see who has the upper paw when I'm done with you," snapped Bark, fur fluffed up. "Furbrain!"
"Quiet, Longtail," meowed the yellow tabby tom, practically glaring at the tan tabby this time. He looked up at Bark and said, "Very well. Longtail, Darkstripe, Dustpaw, head back to camp and tell Bluestar everything that has happened here. We will wait for her."
The black tabby, tan tabby and dusky brown tabby all began to slink towards the southern edge of the clearing. Bark watched them carefully, almost grateful that they were leaving. She would rather not occupy the same space as Tigerclaw and his three goons. After a while, Bark was left with Tigerclaw and the yellow tabby.
"So, you're Tigerclaw," she meowed, wondering if she should mess with his mind some before deciding against it. She looked down at the yellow tom. "What would your name be?"
The tom blinked up at her. "My name is Lionheart. I'm the deputy of ThunderClan."
"Ah," she meowed, suddenly feeling nervous for an entirely different reason. She wondered if she should move further along a branch so she could fall in between the two cats if Tigerclaw decided to take this as opportunity to kill the deputy. She padded up one branch.
"Don't try to make a run for it, she-cat," warned Tigerclaw, his lip curling in a sneer. "You won't get very far."
Bark halted along the branch and looked down at the two tense toms, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. If she had a chance to run, would she take it? She looked around the clearing and realized that, despite Tigerclaw's claim, she probably could make it out of there alive. She had the high ground, and all she had to do was move from one tree to the next, inching her way towards ShadowClan territory. Then, a bound across the thunderpath, and she be home free. Instead, she settled onto her branch, and pointedly licked her paw in a clumsy attempt to clean herself, watching the two toms below her.
After what felt like hours, Tigerclaw lashed his tail. "I need to make dirt," he meowed. "Can you handle her?"
"I can handle myself," meowed Lionheart.
Nodding, Tigerclaw padded into a bush and disappeared.
Bark's paws itched to move. If Tigerclaw makes his move, I'll be ready, she told herself, tensing and preparing to spring. Lionheart was so focused on her that he couldn't possibly be able to tell if Tigerclaw was sneaking up behind him. Bark's nervousness grew. She waited so long that her body felt like it had turned into actual tree bark. She was relieved to hear the yowl of a patrol, and a heartbeat later Tigerclaw stepped out of the bushes.
"Took you a while," said Lionheart with obvious relief in his mew.
"I wasn't that far," Tigerclaw meowed in response.
The patrol poured into the clearing; a lithe blue-gray she-cat, a white tom and a young pale ginger she-cat. The blue-gray she-cat glanced up at her with icy-blue eyes before she looked at her deputy. Her very presence seemed to command authority.
"Lionheart, Tigerclaw," she said calmly to the two toms before turning to the she-cat in a tree. "Greetings. Bark, wasn't it?"
Before the face of such authority, Bark wasn't sure how to respond. She dipped her head hurriedly. "Yes, that's me." She twitched her tail nervously. "Are you their leader?"
She nodded. "Why don't you come down here so we can talk?" Her gaze flickered over Bark's body thoughtfully. "You're injured."
Bark almost did exactly that but halted, her claws digging into the tree branch. "You aren't going to ambush me, are you?" Bark glanced around at other trees she could make a break for, wondering which one would be a good place to make a last stand.
"Of course not," meowed the blue-gray she-cat. "We just want to talk."
Bark hesitated, her tail swishing softly behind her. She was torn between being safe and potentially joining ThunderClan. Then she remembered her early jab at the ThunderClan cats. I'm no coward, she told herself, and bounded down the trunk.
The blue-gray she-cat looked much smaller up close. Either that, or Bark was a Maine Coon in comparison to a Russian Blue. Realizing that the ThunderClans weren't going to attack her yet, Bark sat down and curled her tail around her paws.
"My name is Bluestar, and I'm the leader of ThunderClan," the blue-gray she-cat meowed. "You've met my deputy, Lionheart, and Tigerclaw. This is Whitestorm and his apprentice, Sandpaw."
Bark dipped her head towards them politely. "So, am I your prisoner?"
Bluestar's whiskers twitched. "I was told you were interested in joining ThunderClan."
"Yes," she meowed, thinking she needed to cough up an explanation. "It's safer to be in a group these days."
Bluestar nodded thoughtfully, her eyes studying Bark's coat as if it might contain the secrets of the universe. Bark did not appreciate the scrutiny, more aware than ever how unusual her coat was.
"You are pretty relaxed around other cats to be a loner," meowed the white tom. "Were you in a group before?"
"Yes," meowed Bark. "My parents, siblings and I all lived together in the same nest."
Whitestorm nodded. "What happened to them?"
Bark hesitated, before deciding to go with the obvious answer. "They were taken away by twolegs. I haven't seen them since." She remembered the tag on the foxes and looked at Bluestar. "Bluestar, those foxes your warriors were about to fight, they'd been tagged by twolegs. I've seen the like on other animals before. Twolegs study them and watch them carefully. If your cats had ambushed them like they had planned, they'd have killed them and made the twolegs aware of your presence here. Then all the cats in the forest would be in danger."
"Why do you care so much about twolegs, loner?" sniped Sandpaw, before the young pale ginger she-cat had a white tail put in her mouth.
Bark barely glanced at the young she-cat. "Twolegs don't even know there are cats out here. They don't like the idea of cats being anywhere around this area or in the twolegplace. I've seen cats get picked up off the streets, toms and mothers with kits, and they don't come back the same. Most of them lose their tomhood from the cutter, and the she-cats always come back without their kits if they come back at all." She knew that Bluestar would sympathize with those mothers; she counted on it. "I would rather not lose any of my kits to them if I can help it."
Bluestar seemed to relax, her icy-blue eyes turning warmer. "We would be glad to have another warrior with us, but being a warrior requires a commitment that most loners aren't prepared for. I'll give you a few days to decide if this is really what you want." She rose to her paws and gestured with her tail. "Come, our medicine cat can help you with that shoulder wound."
Last Edited: May 25, 2018
