A/N: This story is about an f/f relationship, and has many other LGBTQ+ references, including things that you personally may find implausible. However, all of this has been thought over very carefully by me. I ask that you be respectful when reviewing, if you do.
Also, this is a rewrite of a story from 2014. While the basic plot remains the same, some things have been changed, and the story is overall more well put together. The setting is in the badlands of South Dakota, and the terrain and plants and animals present reflect this. It's based off my currently dead RP group, but as I still like the setting I've been doing some history and culture building, and this is one such story from it.
A note on terminology as well: In this story, molly is synonymous to she-cat.
Dusk light lengthened shadows and hid dark pelts. A cat, hidden in those same shadows, set her paws down as gently as she could. Meager underbrush hid her from view as she crept towards a blissfully unaware mouse. The soft, pale dirt and rocky ground made no sound as she stepped closer, eyes trained intently on the prey in front of her. She leapt..
Only to trip as her back foot caught on the root of the same bush she'd been hiding in. It tore halfway from the earth and sent her sprawling, banging her muzzle painfully on the ground and getting dust in her dark gray fur. She scrambled to her paws and flung herself toward the mouse that was running for cover.
She slammed a paw over it, killing it quickly, and straightened up, furious with herself. She'd been so caught up in the thrill of the hunt, of feeling powerful, that she'd nearly thought herself invincible. Disgusted with the fantasy she'd gotten caught up in, she rubbed her pained chin and turned towards the paws padding up to her.
"Oh, don't feel bad," said the brown cat sympathetically. His mew was thick with suppressed mirth. "You still caught it," he continued in a more controlled voice.
Darkgaze appreciated the effort, really, she did, but her pelt prickled at his presence anyway. She tried to push it down, and changed the subject. "There's no use hunting here anymore," she said, eyeing his swallow. He dipped his head in agreement and stepped closer. His tail twined with hers. He didn't seem to notice that she held hers stiff.
"Let's get back to camp," he suggested. "It's slim pickings over here anyway, isn't it, Darkgaze?" At her agreement he started forward. Darkgaze lagged behind, trying to ignore the way her pelt was practically standing on end.
"Shrewpelt," she mewed a moment later, quietly. He turned, and she jerked her head to the side. "I'm going to check over here, alright?"
He looked momentarily disappointed, but took her mouse when she pushed it toward him. "Catch up later," he mewed, muffled. Darkgaze watched him go, her pelt smoothing more the further away he walked. Guilt stuck in her throat.
When he was a decent distance away, she turned and headed on her way. Her paws sent puffs of dust off the dry, cracked ground as she headed towards hopefully more prey-rich areas. There was bound to be more near the stream, even if it had nearly dried up by now.
She was right, she found when she got there. A bird pecked among soft green plants, searching for food. It become food itself a moment later, when Darkgaze took it down. She hunted along the nearly-dry streambed and managed to catch a lizard seeking a drink, and then, further downstream, a shrew scavenging behind a rock.
Her stomach twisted at the sight of the shrew, the calm she'd managed to achieve by hunting alone disappearing as she picked up the prey, the color of its fur so very, very familiar. Frustrated at herself, Darkgaze shook her head, trying to rid herself of traitorous thoughts. A quick drink at the nearly dry stream, and she headed back towards Brushclan camp.
Shrewpelt was waiting at the entrance of the camp, his tail held high. The swallow and mouse they had caught together were nowhere in sight. Darkgaze felt the familiar prickle of discomfort and guilt as she realized he'd put the prey away and came back to wait for her.
"Darkgaze," he mewed, stepping close enough that she could feel the rumble of his purr. He sounded genuinely delighted. "Good job," he added, touching noses with her. She tried not to flinch away, and pretended the reason she didn't return the gesture was because she had prey in her mouth. She mumbled something unintelligible and hoped he'd take it as something nice as she moved to set the prey down at the fresh-kill pile at the other end of the camp.
The clearing was large. Scrub bushes that doubled as dens were scattered around, some set up against a tall rock formation. The nursery was far apart from the others, and Darkgaze could see an apprentice already dropping prey off at the entrance and hastily leaving. While she watched, a pale tabby head peeked out and snatched the prey up.
The leader's den was situated under two fallen slabs of rock, and close by was a bush concealing a small tunnel that lead to the medicine cat's den. Sootfeather was clearly visible outside, sunning herself.
Merlinstar was at the fresh-kill pile when Darkgaze padded up. Their distractible leader was up to her old habits, turning the prey over with her paws to inspect it for age and muttering to herself. "Is that all?" she meowed as Darkgaze's shadow fell across her. "It'll have to do," she continued, interrupting Darkgaze's attempted explanation. "Here, eat this," she added absently, mind on other things already. She pushed a mouse toward Darkgaze. "The Gathering is tonight. You're going. I'd have had Larkwhisker tell you, but you were hunting. No matter. You know now."
A thrill of excitement raced down Darkgaze's spine. "Oh, thank you," she mewed, but Merlinstar was already padding off, having finished her fresh-kill inspection. Darkgaze watched her go, and then picked up the mouse and took it over to where a brown tom was sitting.
"Darkgaze," the tom, her brother, mewed. He was obviously pleased. Scraps of fur and bone were in front of him, evidence of a meal he hadn't yet had time to clean up.
"Hawkstripe," she purred back. She pinned her mouse under one paw and took a bite of it.
"Are you going to the Gathering?" he asked, patting the remains of his food into a more manageable pile.
Darkgaze gulped down her bite of mouse. "Yes! Merlinstar told me I was, just now. What about you?"
"Yeah," he mewed, looking at her sideways. "Shrewpelt isn't, though."
Darkgaze felt a rush of relief and tried not to let on about it. "That's too bad," she mewed, picking her words carefully and trying for a casual, conversational tone. "I'll make sure to tell him everything that happens."
"I'm surprised you're not eating with him right now," Hawkstripe continued, sweeping his tail forward and inadvertently scattering the scraps he'd carefully piled up.
"I don't have to spend every moment with him," she responded as he brushed the pile back together. Agitation clawed at her fur already.
"Of course not," he shot back. "He's only your mate, after all."
Mate. The word sank in her throat and settled, spiked, in her stomach. Shame burned her ears as she realized her brother was right. Feebly, she tried to defend herself against him and her own guilt. "I just thought I'd eat with my kin for once."
That seemed to do the trick. Hawkstripe immediately looked sorry. "Of course we can eat together. Whenever you want! I'm sorry, Darkgaze. I didn't mean to put you on the spot."
She pressed her muzzle into his shoulder for a moment, ignoring the suspicious glitter that remained in his eyes, hinting he wasn't altogether convinced. "It's okay," she soothed, glad to have managed to distract him for the moment, at least. "Let me finish eating and we can bury our scraps, alright?"
He nodded and finished brushing the now very dusty bits of bone and fur into a pile while Darkgaze finished eating. They're just gotten back from burying the bones when Merlinstar's voice rang out through the dusk-dark camp.
"Everyone going to the Gathering, meet me here!" she called, already at the camp's exit.
Hawkstripe hopped a little on his paws. "Finally," he mewed, setting off to where their leader waited. Darkgaze followed behind him, returning a halfhearted farewell to Shrewpelt when he meowed a goodbye. Hawkstripe glanced back at him, and then to his sister, who pointedly kept her head forward and refused to acknowledge any suspicions he might harbor.
The Palegrounds were situated in the middle of the Clans' territory. Clan lore said that when the cats had first settled there, Starclan had shone down, bright as day, and lit up the center of the territories, turning the rock and sand there a washed-out pale color. The Clans had met there every full moon since.
Darkgaze always felt a sense of peace there, even when tensions between the four Clans were running high. It was hard not to, in a place so obviously blessed by Starclan. Her paws sank lightly into the wind-swept sand, leaving prints that were swiftly covered up by her clanmate's own.
Cliffclan and Caveclan were already swarming into the hollow, and Darkgaze could smell the lingering, confusing mass of scents mingling there. A pelt brushed against her own, and a separate, unfamiliar smell washed over her scent glands. It was nearly dizzying; it smelled of Shaleclan, but also of sun, of dust, of heather. Darkgaze turned her head, and saw blue.
Curious, wide blue eyes stared at her from a cream-and-yellow face. A tail brushed against her flank, and the cat pulled forward, keeping pace with one of their clanmates. The cat only looked forward again when they bumped into Swiftheart, Shaleclan's deputy. Darkgaze heard an apologetic mew and the blue-eyed cat and their friend disappeared into the throng.
She stared after the Shaleclan cats as they vanished, feeling an odd prickle in her paws. Subconsciously her claws unsheathed, digging tiny holes into the pale sand as she and her clanmates walked the rest of the way into the Palegrounds.
Batstar, leader of Caveclan, and Brightstar, leader of Cliffclan, were already on top of the Palerock, silhouetted on the flat surface by the light of the full moon. As Darkgaze weaved through the gathered cats, she could see Merlinstar and Cloudstar, Shaleclan's leader, leap onto the rock and settle down next to the other leaders.
Darkgaze sat down near the back, letting her thoughts wander as she waited for the Clans to settle and the leaders to begin the meeting.
"Hi!" a cat chirped, startling Darkgaze from her reverie. The cream-and-yellow cat from before stood in front of her, shifting a little on their paws. They had stripes where they weren't white, dark yellow-tan fading in and out of a lighter backdrop. Darkgaze realized, seeing them up close, that she'd seen the cat around before. "May I sit here?" they asked.
"Of- of course," Darkgaze mewed, feeling her heart flutter in surprise.
"I'm Astertail," the cat mewed, and then added, "I'm a molly." Darkgaze nodded and the cat, Astertail, sat down next to her.
"I'm Darkgaze," the gray cat meowed a heartbeat later, nervous for reasons she didn't understand.
"Darkgaze," Astertail repeated, thoughtful. "That's a very nice name."
The Brushclan cat felt her ears heat up. "Th-thank you," she stammered. "I like yours too. You're pretty. I mean, your name is." She averted her eyes to look at the Palerock, but not before seeing a flash of Astertail's surprised, and pleased, expression. She started to say something else, only to be interrupted by a yowl from the leaders as the Gathering began.
When the meeting was over, Darkgaze was unable to remember anything that happened, even when Shrewpelt asked. All she could recall was the smell of heather, and the color blue.