Dangerous Winds

Ivytail took a deep, satisfied breath and let it out slowly. He was a warrior, finally. Leafbare had been difficult for the clan, but then it always was. The twolegs had packed up and left the new horseplace a quarter moon before the snows started, taking their kittypets with them.

Freefall's face drifted up in his mind and he felt a small pang of sorrow. He would never see the brave, steady cat again. For all he was a kittypet, he had been as good as any warrior. Better in some ways; he hadn't been raised to be a warrior, and yet had acted like one with no complaints or even training.

Ivytail's fur ruffled, though he kept silent in his vigil. Bloodfang's horrid prison still surfaced in Ivytail's thoughts from time to time, especially when he was trying to sleep or when he was alone. Between being chased by a fox as a kit and being dumped in that horrible, unstable trap by a crazed Rogue, it was a wonder Ivytail got any sleep at all.

Something rustled in the bushes then scampered off on quick paws. The scent of a rabbit drifted to his nose and he felt his whiskers twitch. The stupid thing had gotten quite close to camp before realizing how many cats were just on the other side of the heather.

The night was peaceful, the stars clear and bright above the lake. A twig cracked and Ivytail was on his paws. "Who's there?"

"It's okay Ivytail, it's just us." Ashwhisker led the rest of the night patrol into camp, the cats looking sleepy and relieved to be back.

A quick glance said that the patrol had had no problems. Relaxing, the new warrior settled back into position again. Vigils were supposed to be silent, but there were no rules against challenging strange sounds. It was better to challenge a rabbit than to ignore an enemy patrol.

Freefall's steady gaze rolled gently into his thoughts once more. The exotic cat had waded through a maze of muck and drew him safely off the treacherous mat of reeds that barely floated in the mud. Uncertainly, Ivytail wondered if idolizing a kittypet would be a bad thing. Bravery, a cool head and the willingness to help others… those were the kinds of qualities warriors sought to emulate.

… Well… maybe not a cool head… Ivytail frowned and shot a glance at Swiftstar's den. The clan leader had been proud and rather cold for as long as Ivytail could remember. Always the first to threaten or challenge another clan, Swiftstar had all but accused the other three clans of being opportunistic when a family of foxes had been terrorizing the clans. He shook his head. He understood the need to look strong when bordered by competing clans, but picking fights was a waste of warriors.

As the sun began to rise above the horizon, the temperature began to rise with it. It would be a good day for hunting today; he could feel it. Silvershade came forward as the first rays of sunlight touched the heather and sent the weary warrior off to sleep for a little while.

Once again he was fleeing across the moors, hot breath behind him the only source of heat. His tiny paws stung, then hurt, then sent claws of agony up his short legs. Terror spurred him on as teeth clapped shut on the barest tip of his tail. Pain darted up his spine and he lengthened his stride, leaving a few hairs dangling from between the fox's teeth. Suddenly the ground dipped and he was splashing across a stream. Starclan's luck, it was shallow enough that it only wet his paws. He didn't trip, he didn't fall, and he was through it and away as the fox uttered a breathless growl behind him. There was a bush up ahead. He shot through and out the other side, barely aware of the low branches that he wove his way through at top speed… only to find himself charging straight at an enemy patrol.

Thunderclan!

But there was no choice, no time to change direction. He shot under the belly of the nearest startled cat, his mouth open in a silent wail of terror and despair. His paws gave out and he collapsed in the snow, too exhausted to do anything but gulp air into his lungs. Dimly, he heard the patrol snarl and hiss at the fox until it left. Then the cat he hid beneath moved, revealing him to the others. But the enemy warriors didn't attack, even when he managed to gasp out, "If you're going to rip my fur off, I'd as soon you do it rather than that fox..."

Instead a warm, gentle tongue went to work on the scraped and raw pads of his paws, soothing it and cleaning the bloody ice away. Fernpaw, her name had been. The Thunderclan cat's eyes were warm pools of light in unfamiliar territory. The other Thunderclan cats made dismissive sounds, uninterested in attacking an exhausted kit…

Then his dream changed, and he was on the treacherous mat of reeds that sank ominously into the mud every time he tried to move. Dawnkit clung to him like a burr, terrified and mewing a mantra of bravery to herself. Once again, the kittypet's calm voice encouraged him to put his paws into the muck. Once again the sucking mud began to swallow him whole, his front paws barely able to find the narrow path and keep his head high enough to breathe. Jaws clasped his scruff and pulled him free. For a moment, there was nothing beneath him except the endless sucking mud, and then his hind paws touched bottom and Freefall released him, snorting mud out of his nose and making a face at the taste. The kittpyet led him through the mess, calm and steady. And then Dawnkit was lifted from his back by another kittypet with kind eyes. He followed, helped out by the two strange cats. They didn't care what clan he belonged to; they had helped him regardless…

.

Ivytail woke late in the morning, still tired but feeling much better after a good sleep. The dreams had settled something for him; he would never be a Thunderclan cat or a kittypet, but that didn't mean he couldn't respect the qualities that made them good cats.

Blackmoor had been a good mentor, and he certainly hadn't forgotten her experience or instruction. However, he had never been able to pick up his mentor's quick temper or willingness to challenge other cats who were only patrolling the way they should… on their own side of the border.

Prey was running well, and the hunting patrol proudly returned to camp with enough food for the day by the time he padded forward to get some breakfast.

A distant rumbling made every cat pause in the middle of his or her meal and stretch their necks to see what was going on. A twoleg nest perched on the back of a monster was growling its way along the thunderpath that bordered the twoleg place. It came to a stop just short of the broken halfbridge and fell silent with the air of something making itself comfortable for a long nap.

"Oh no," Silvershade groaned. "For Starclan's sake, can't we go four seasons without trouble?"

The twoleg had climbed out of the monster, opened the door to the traveling nest, and released two monstrous dogs.

The beasts shook themselves and then began to range about, sniffing.

"Maybe they'll stay with their twolegs?" Larkflight meowed with desperate hope.

"Yeah…maybe…" Silvershade didn't sound convinced.

"We don't have that kind of luck," Swiftstar growled, blunt as usual. "Every warrior is to stay with their patrol, every apprentice, stay within sight of their mentor, even on apprentice duties. We all know how to deal with dogs, and these will be no different."

Ivytail disagreed, silently of course. He stared at the dogs, distance making them look small. But they weren't. They were huge. The biggest beast went straight up to a horse to sniff noses with it. Foxdash mewed in amazement. The beast was nearly as big as the horse itself. It could swallow a warrior whole and not even realize it.

The other one was long legged, lean and long. It raced this way and that, expending little energy to cross great strides of ground. Watching it change direction to race in another direction, no cat was left in doubt that it could pursue the swiftest Windclan warrior with little effort.

Satisfied that it had sniffed the horse all it wanted to, the big dog turned and started to amble after its twoleg. Abruptly, its head swung around and fixated the edge of the thunderpath bordering the horseplace. The beast sniffed intently, fixated as though its head had been trapped.

Ivytail groaned. The edges of the thunderpath were also the edges of Windclan territory. The dog had found the scent markings, refreshed only this morning. Slowly that great head lifted, and it stared into the territory, its eyes gleaming wickedly in the sunlight.

The lanky beast paid little heed, still racing around and around the monster, this way and that like a fox with its tail on fire. It seemed crazy with joy from the freedom it was granted after its ride in the mobile nest.

A whistle from the twolegs sent the lanky dog bounding after its twoleg with easy grace. The big one didn't budge, its eyes still raking the open moors. At the second whistle it finally turned and plodded away after its master with the unhurried gait of a beast with future plans. Plans that involved Windclan territory.