Bitterness Changes
Characters:
Foxtail – slender, pretty russet she-cat with white paws and muzzle and yellow eyes
Thornpelt – pale tabby tom with green eyes
Swiftsong – long-furred black she-cat with yellow eyes
Firethorn – faded calico tom with green eyes
Archclaw – brown and gold tabby she-cat with amber eyes
"Foxtail, you're on the hunting patrol with Swiftsong, Firethorn, and Thornpelt," Archclaw meowed smoothly. The deputy's amber eyes were cool and friendly, but Foxtail was certain that the pretty gold and brown she-cat was punishing her for something she had done.
Why else would she put me on a patrol with Thornpelt? She lashed her tail crossly when, looking across the camp's clearing, the pale tabby was staring at her. Stupid furball. But she couldn't very well argue with Archclaw, so she simply dipped her head and trotted away to join the patrol, anger making her fur spike.
"Hey, Foxtail," he mewed in greeting, voice completely calm.
She curled her lip and pointedly turned her back. The stupid fox-heart knew she hated him. Why did he always insist on pretending they were friends?
Swiftsong flicked her long, sweeping black tail to gather the patrol around her. "Come on, everyone," she called. "This isn't the time to be fighting. Where do you all want to go to hunt?" Her yellow eyes swept over the other three warriors in the patrol and sharpened when they fell upon Foxtail and Thornpelt. "You two, I will not tolerate any fighting while we're patrolling. You understand?"
Foxtail muttered "Fine," but to her annoyance Thornpelt's reply was a bright chirp of "Of course!" Quit trying to make me look bad, she thought bitterly.
"Why not head to the abandoned Twoleg den?" Firethorn suggested with a significant glance at them. His green eyes were twinkling, strangely enough. "We can split into pairs to hunt, one cat to hunt and one to make sure it's safe. We haven't sent a patrol near there in some time, so there's bound to be loads of prey."
Swiftsong nodded, a glint of interest in her golden gaze. "That's a good idea. Come on, let's go." She got to her paws and turned to the camp's exit. Foxtail rose from her seated position and padded after Swiftsong, brushing past Thornpelt without a glance.
The forest was alive with the sounds and scents of newleaf. Trees were finished growing their leaves, so the sky was almost completely shrouded by a roof of deep green. Sun crept through in tiny golden streaks that dappled what little undergrowth there was. Foxtail lifted her head as a cool, refreshing breeze kissed her cheeks and ruffled her russet fur. Above her head the emerald treetops danced and whispered secrets only they could understand, while at her paws tiny ants marched in steady lines to a hidden hill.
The long-furred black she-cat at the patrol's head led them on a wild dash through the forest towards the abandoned Twoleg den, paws pounding on the peaty forest floor. Foxtail's muscles bunched and stretched as they ran. She charged ahead, relishing the surge of energy that made her feel as if she was flying over the ground. As she passed Swiftsong, the she-cat rolled her eyes and flicked her ears, giving Foxtail permission to lead the way. However, her good mood was spoiled when she realized that Thornpelt was running beside her, panting with exertion.
"What do you want?" she snapped to him, not taking her eyes off the path ahead of her.
He gasped for breath. "How – how do you – run – so fast?"
"By not being chubby," she retorted, picking up speed. Thornpelt fell behind, and with pleasure Foxtail heard him let out a frustrated growl. Her tail streamed out behind her, a tapered point to the russet streak she had become.
Then the abandoned den loomed above her as she burst through a grove of clustered trees and bramble bushes. Foxtail skidded to a half, breathing heavily but still filled with energy. Recalling what Firethorn had suggested about hunting in pairs, she paced back and forth impatiently as she waited for the rest of the patrol to arrive.
Firethorn was the first to emerge from the bushes, faded calico pelt twitching as brambles raked through it. He paused, one paw raised off the ground, and sniffed the air. "I smell prey already," the tom commented. "We'll have good hunting today."
Just behind him was Swiftsong. Her long fur was studded with thorns and burrs, and her eyes glittered with annoyance as she nibbled at one paw. Sitting down beside Firethorn, she twitched her tail and look behind her.
Lastly Thornpelt came plodding out of the bushes, still panting. Foxtail rolled her eyes. He still hasn't caught his breath? What a mousebrain. The pale tabby tom flopped on the ground next to Swiftsong, flanks heaving.
"Say, Swiftsong," Firethorn meowed with a significant look at the black she-cat, "you look like you need help with those thorns."
Swiftsong twitched her furry ears in his direction, blinking. Foxtail frowned, seeing the older warrior's eyes gleam in understanding. What are they planning? "I certainly do," Swiftsong agreed. "Mind helping me out?"
"Not at all," Firethorn replied kindly. He sat down next to Swiftsong and rasped his tongue through her tangled black fur a few times, then paused and looked up at Foxtail. "Since I'm helping Swiftsong, do you mind partnering with Thornpelt? We'll hunt as soon as Swiftsong isn't spiky as a thistle."
Oh. Foxtail's tail drooped. They want me to hunt with Thornpelt? It's bad enough being on a patrol with him, now I'm supposed to trust him with my life? I did that as a kit and how did that turn out? Still, she couldn't exactly argue with the older warriors, so she nodded curtly and turned to Thornpelt. The lazy tom was still lying on the ground, but he seemed to have regained his composure. "Come on," Foxtail growled.
He climbed to his paws and padded towards her. Not bothering to wait until he caught up, Foxtail spun around and stalked past the rotting wooden border that surrounded the Twoleg den in a wide square. Long grass sprouted around the base of it – perfect places for prey to hide – but she knew that more mice would be found inside the den.
Ivy was creeping up one corner of the den, making its way to the roof and covering most of the walls. The place was made of both wood and stone – Foxtail had always marveled at the way it was so sturdily built; were Twolegs so strong that they could pick up the massive stones and shape them to their will using only their furless paws? The entrance had once been covered by a flat, smooth wooden plank, but over the years it had begun to rot and some of the warriors had managed to break open a hole in its corner.
Placing one white paw carefully on the wooden area in front of the entrance, Foxtail carefully lifted herself up. She could hear the scrabbling of tiny animals inside, but still made sure to sniff the air thoroughly – as she had done ever since going into the badger's set as a kit. There was no stink of badger or fox, nor was there a trace of rogue cats, so she poked her head in.
For a brief time, it was pitch black. Soon, though, her eyes began to adjust and Foxtail was able to see through the murky gloom. The ground was hard and flat, but littered with chunks of the stony roof and dust. She fought to contain a sneeze as she peered around with wide eyes. The cramped space of the den was already making her nervous.
"Hurry up."
Thornpelt's impatient meow startled Foxtail into a yelp. Her fur bushed out in shock and her eyes widened. Turning around to glare at him, she hissed through clenched teeth, "I was trying to find out if there was danger." When he gave her a disbelieving look, she added pointedly, "Like badgers."
Now there was guilt in his emerald gaze. Even though Foxtail wanted to keep it up – anything that made the snake-heart feel guilty was fine with her – she stopped short and turned away to face the den again. "Let's just go up to the second level of the den and look for prey," she meowed shortly.
What's wrong with me? Why do I feel bad for taunting him about the badger set? Shaking off her concerns, Foxtail stepped carefully over the crumbling ruins of the Twoleg den with Thornpelt close on her heels.
"You know, Hollyclaw and I didn't know there was a badger in that den," the pale tabby tom meowed from behind her.
Foxtail continued to ignore him in stony silence as she judged how safe it would be to climb the strange, sharp-angled slope leading to the second level of the Twoleg den. I wonder how they made the second area stay up, she reflected as she began to carefully step up the slope. If we could do this in our dens, we'd never have to worry about space again.
Thornpelt let out a little sigh behind her, obviously having realized that she was purposely ignoring him, but she could hear the wood creak as he followed her up to the second level. "I mean it," he added a moment later. "We didn't want anyone to get hurt. We were just kits."
"Which way should we go?" Foxtail meowed curtly, cutting him off. Thornpelt scrambled up next to her and gave her a puzzled look. She nodded at the several smaller parts of the den that were spread along the second level. "Any one of those."
"That one," he suggested, flicking his tail towards the one on the end. "It looks biggest, so there are probably more places for prey to hide."
Foxtail nodded. "Right, let's go." She padded forward towards the den he'd indicated.
Suddenly, beneath her paws, the old and half-rotted wood gave out. She felt it crumble and had a single instant to react – an instant which she was too stunned to utilize. The bottom level seemed to be a thousand tail-lengths away, and Foxtail suddenly realized she was going to die.
Then teeth were embedded in her scruff and she was dangling in midair.
Foxtail looked up and saw that Thornpelt had caught her. His eyes were huge, his breathing rapid, and he seemed more afraid than she was. She gasped as they both suddenly slid forward a short bit, but Thornpelt was already scrabbling with his hind paws to gain back the space they had lost.
"I've got you," he mewed through a mouthful of fur.
"Don't talk while your mouth is the only thing keeping me from dying," Foxtail snapped. Instantly she felt awful. Am I really being nasty while he's saving my life? The tabby tom grunted to show that he'd heard and he seemed not to be offended.
Her scruff began to sting, and Foxtail winced. She was too big to be held up by her scruff anymore, and if this continued she would end up falling anyway. She began to turn in midair, as the skin was loose enough to do so, and ended up with a full view of Thornpelt.
Just then he gave a massive tug, powerful muscles rippling beneath his striped tan pelt, and with one mighty heave he slid back a tail-length and Foxtail was lifted up, up, up out of the hole and onto more solid ground.
For what felt like ages, Foxtail lay there, gasping for breath and stunned into silence. Thornpelt seemed to be in the same shape – he was lying prone next to her, paws spread out, tail utterly still, flanks heaving. Finally he croaked, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Foxtail meowed softly. Then, so quietly she hoped he couldn't hear, "Thank you."
He sat up with a grimace and leaned over her, sniffing at her pelt. "The wood didn't cut you when you fell through? Not in shock? You're okay?"
"Y-yes, I'm okay," Foxtail repeated. She rolled so that her paws were more firmly beneath her and stared at him. "You saved me."
"I had to," Thornpelt mewed. "How could I not?"
"What? Are you saying if I wasn't your Clanmate you wouldn't save me?" Foxtail demanded. She didn't mean to sound harsh, but that was how it came out.
The pale tabby broke eye contact, looking uncomfortable. "No. Of course not." He stood up carefully. "We should probably hunt on the lower level. It's safer."
Foxtail nodded, uncertain now by the strange turn of events, and began to climb to her paws. However, she found that her legs wouldn't support her – they were still shaking too much. "I can't get up."
Thornpelt moved closer so that their pelts brushed, russet fur meeting brown. "I'll help you. Come on, just stand up for a little while and we can get down the slope. You don't need to hunt it that makes it easier; you can make sure no rats jump on me while I'm looking for mice." He purred nervously.
"You'd trust me to guard your back? But I've got every reason to let them have you," Foxtail sniffed disdainfully. In truth, she had no intention of letting Thornpelt get attacked by rats – but it didn't seem right to let him know that.
He looked at her again, green eyes calm. "I've saved your life. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
Foxtail turned her head away, feeling her ear-tips grow warm. "Well, yes." This is ridiculous! He saves my life and suddenly I'm too awkward to talk around him? She climbed to her paws, still not making eye contact, and leaned against him as he helped her down the slope to the lower level of the abandoned Twoleg den.
"Now that I've helped you, will you at least listen when I talk to you?" Thornpelt meowed when they reached the bottom. He had dropped into a crouch and was scanning the shadowy den.
"… Fine," she complied after a moment. "Talk." Foxtail suspected that she would regret agreeing, but she did owe it to him.
"We were just kits," Thornpelt mewed solemnly. "Hollyclaw and I had already sneaked out of the camp before, but we had never gone to the badger sets. We were too afraid that we would, well, encounter a badger. But we couldn't exactly admit that in front of you. I… well, I didn't think we were going there. I thought Hollyclaw would take you to the training field or something – I was just as shocked as you two when she said we were going to the badger sets."
When he stopped, Foxtail cocked her head to one side, puzzled. "What?"
"Shh," Thornpelt hushed her. "Mouse." He lifted his haunches, tail sticking out behind him like a twig, then rushed forward. Despite herself, Foxtail found herself watching closely. His movements were fluid and surprisingly graceful for his large size.
He planted his paw firmly down onto a lump and leaned down to bite it. When Thornpelt next lifted his head, there was a limp grey form dangling from his jaws. He trotted back over to Foxtail and set it down. "Mind guarding the prey?"
"Okay," she agreed. "Keep going."
The tabby tom nodded. "Right. So when Hollyclaw said we were going to the badger sets, I didn't think it was a good idea. But Hollyclaw was – and still is – bossier than any other cat in the Clan." He sighed. "I admit, she scared me. I didn't dare argue with her back then."
"But you were the one who suggested that we go into the sets," Foxtail pointed out, tail-tip twitching. "I remember. You whispered it into her ear."
Thornpelt's tail drooped. "I know. I've regretted it ever since. I swear, though, Foxtail, I've changed since then! You won't give me a chance." He looked miserably at her. "I couldn't let you die now, and I would give anything to go back and change what I said that day."
"Because of you, my brother had to face a badger," Foxtail growled, but her resolve was weakening. She didn't want to hate Thornpelt, but she couldn't just change her opinion of him so quickly… could she?
He nodded, eyes shadowed. "And I wish I could take it back. But I can't." He looked seriously at her. "Foxtail, please, you have to forgive me. Please."
I want to forgive him! Foxtail realized, surprised. I don't want to keep up this cycle of anger. It may have been his fault, but he was a stupid kit. I was stupid back then to go into the badger set. She swallowed hard. "Okay." This is right, I have to do this. "I forgive you."
Thornpelt was silent for a moment, eyes blank. Then joy sparked in them – a fierce delight that took Foxtail aback for a moment. "Really? You mean it?"
"Well, I – yes," she stammered, blinking.
"Thank you!" Thornpelt exclaimed, purring. Then, before Foxtail could react, he leaned in and pressed his muzzle to her cheek affectionately. "Thank you so much!" He pulled back and stared at her for a moment, eyes sparkling. Foxtail's ear-tips began to heat up. Why is he staring at me? But then Thornpelt turned around and crouched again, apparently focused on hunting once more.
I'm glad I forgave him, Foxtail thought as Thornpelt launched himself forward again. I think… I think we could be friends, as long as he really is sorry. Without meaning to, she began to purr as she watched the tabby tom hunt.
This is set in the same world as Badgers was. I will be using that world for all the one-shots I write, and may eventually make the whole thing into a bigger story. Meanwhile, we still don't know if Badgerkit is alive or not! We will see...
Also, it may not be clear that this follows the theme of Loving Hate. If not, sorry. However, I didn't want to completely describe everything that happens between Foxtail and Thornpelt because personally I felt that showing Foxtail's decision to forgive him for the Badgers incident and then considering a friendship between them conveyed much more than just saying "She forgave him when he saved her life and here's 2,000 words describing how they began to fall in love."