There was silence.
The prey-hunters had returned.
However, instead of the proud glint they used to have after a hunt, their heads were bowed down as they entered the Cave of Rushing Water, eyes fixed on the ground shamefully. Their bones were visible under their thin pelts, streaked with ice and frost.
It was almost deafening, how noiseless it was. The kit-mothers, huddled together with their hungry kits, had eagerly awaited their return. So had the cave-guards and elders.
A dark brown cat on the side appeared more shocked than anyone else. Her tabby tail was low, and her ears were slicked back. She just didn't understand. The prey-hunters just had to catch something.
As she watched every frozen, numb step they took into the cave, she felt her resolve dripping slowly away, like raindrops from a wet leaf.
Eyes began to turn to her, scared, asking for her help. Her chest tightened as she groped around for the words to say. She forced herself to raise her chin.
"Stoneteller." One of the prey-hunters approached her. The she-cat's black pelt rippled. "We… we really did try our best."
"Is this your best?" Stoneteller yowled. The sound echoed off the cave walls hollowly; the silence was broken. "Is this what you think will help us?"
"T-There was a b-blizzard," another cat whimpered. "I-I nearly got blown off the cliff by the wind, and—"
"Excuses!" She slammed her paw down on the ground, making almost every cat's ears flatten in fright. Her eyes blazed.
"Stoneteller…" started the black she-cat, but the Healer had already gone, retreating into the Cave of Pointed Stones.
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Stoneteller curled up in her feathery nest. She wanted to fall asleep tonight, wanting to forget her troubles for a moment. But she found that she couldn't, and she didn't force it.
She glanced around the cave, setting her eyes on the stones that were seemingly growing from the rock, pointing up and down. A layer of ice covered the large puddle in front of her; no omens there, as they had been for an excruciatingly long time. The other smaller puddles were frosted too.
She twiddled an eagle feather between her paws, blinking dumbly at it. She masked her fear with anger and disappointment, not wanting them to know that she was feeling just the same way that they were. She felt lost and scared. She was still a cat, after all.
The only difference was… they were looking to her to lead them through this.
Their eyes felt like fire on her pelt, singeing fur; she could almost taste the smoke. They wanted her to look for omens, heal their sick, and send out successful hunting parties. Like she was supposed to.
It was five moons since she became the next Teller of the Pointed Stones. She had been fairly young, at least in comparison to the previous Stoneteller, who had been many seasons old, before he died of greencough.
She had not received any omens for a long time. The last one she received was the one that told her that this Time of Frozen Water would be a hard one. It was hard.
A breeze blew through the cave, blowing the feather out of her grasp. She frantically tried to pin it down and catch it, but it was no use. It skirted the pointed stones and puddles, and flew out the cave. She gave chase.
Outside, in the main cave, it was dark, and she could hardly see. She knew the entire Tribe were probably asleep, huddled in their nests. She just couldn't see them. But what she could see was the white feather, standing out starkly in the black.
She padded towards it, shaking her head.
Look at me. I'm chasing feathers around like a kit. I guess it's already that bad, huh?
She reached out a paw to pin it down, but another breeze swept across the cave, and the feather started its flight again. She hissed, and chased after it again.
It was leading her out of the Cave of Rushing Water. She hesitated for a moment. It had been a while since she had been out in the territory. She wasn't sure if she even remembered the landmarks. She steeled herself, then walked out.
The moment she stepped out of the cave, she heard the crashing din of the rushing water that screened the cave. It rang in her ears, making her flatten them.
She watched the feather follow the dimly-lit path out of camp, and she paced carefully after it, keeping her paws on the rock. Suddenly, a strong wind caught her light frame and she had to dig her claws into the path to keep herself from flying off the mountain. She exhaled shakily; she looked around, scared that the wind might have blown the feather away. Surprisingly, the feather was still going along its slow flight, seemingly unbothered by the wind.
Tribe of Endless Hunting… what are you telling me?
She shifted her gaze to the sky, but it held nothing; the stars and moon were covered by thick clouds, foretelling more snow to come. She would have to finish this quickly.
No matter how hard she tried, and no matter how slowly the feather was moving, she couldn't seem to catch it. She had lunged after it, sneaked up on it, tried to catch it with her jaws, but it always seemed to escape. After another failed attempt to trap the feather, she stopped, sighing.
The feather led her across the mountainous terrain. She skirted the rocky cliffs, pushed through thick gorse, and walked a long way. She didn't really mind. The territory was more than familiar to her; she wouldn't get lost.
It led her to a sheer cliff face. Another wind blew, and it made the feather disappear into a wide crack in the rock. Her tail flicked. She peered into the crack. It was there, and she unsheathed a claw to try and pull it out.
She managed to do so after a while, and she gave a little purr once she finally pinned it under her paws.
She thought for a moment, wondering to herself.
Feather… floating away…
A light flashed through her head, like a lightning bolt had struck her between the ears.
Before she was Stoneteller, she was Feather Caught In Gorse.
Her eyes widened, and she took a step away from the feather.
Could they possibly be saying… I should leave?
She felt fear fill her heart. What could this mean, if they were asking her to run? Was the Tribe doomed? Could she have led them to this point? A disaster?
The sky crackled, and a loud boom signalled the start of a snowstorm. She pressed herself close to the ground. The long hike back up would be treacherously windy and slippery in a heartbeat.
There was only one way to go now.
Stoneteller looked around, then stumbled away in the opposite direction from the cave. The one she had called home for her entire life.