It was an hour later when Bark padded through the bramble tunnel that served as the entrance to the ThunderClan camp and found herself staring around at a large clearing. To her own surprise, she couldn't tell the difference between the elder's den, the warrior's den, the medicine cat's den and the prisoner's den. Usually she had an omnipresent or omniscient understanding of the world around her in her dreams. It wasn't the first time this had happened in this dream, she realized with a sudden sense of dread, because she hadn't been able to figure out where the ThunderClan camp was and she wasn't even sure she could make her way back to the fox's clearing. Her inability to locate anything in the waking world seemed to have followed her to her dreams as well.
Thankfully, the camp had some very distinguished landmarks she recognized from the books that helped her to identify where some of the dens were. A big, flat stump was located at the entrance to the apprentice den, the same stump which Ravenpaw had triumphantly put his adder on after a semi-successful hunting trip in the first book. The Highrock towered over one half of the camp, and in its shadow was another den overgrown with lichen which could only belong to the ThunderClan leader. Finally, there was the slight dip in the ground filled with prey, predominately gray or red squirrels and small birds.
I'm really here, she thought, thinking she should be more excited than she currently was. The thought had instead brought a bit of unease into her mind, spoiling her mood. She tried to shake it off but it stayed.
There was, surprisingly, only around twenty to twenty-five cats in the whole of the Clan. At first glance, she thought that only half the Clan was present, but after a while she realized that there were only so many cats in the Clan. She had expected there to be many more, at least twice as many, but it was not so. She had never expected the Clan to be so small, with only twenty-five cats in total, not including the kits. There were six elders, four queens, five apprentices, one of deputy and leader and medicine cat, and seven warriors. They had all gathered around the camp, expectantly waiting for her arrival. She felt their eyes on her fur as she halted at the edge of the clearing.
"Sandpaw," meowed Whitestorm, "please take Bark to the medicine cat den."
The apprentice reacted with disgust, wrinkling her nose. "Why me? She stinks worse than a badger!"
"Sandpaw," said Whitestorm sternly.
"Fine," she meowed. "Come on, kittypet."
Bark flicked her ears in frustration at Sandpaw, but followed behind the she-cat. They were walking towards the entrance to a fern tunnel and Bark recognized it from the books. It was where Firepaw and Bluestar had a conversation there after Spottedleaf's death. She glanced around but couldn't figure out what the last three dens were.
"Great StarClan, even a snail is faster than you!"
Bark looked at Sandpaw, shocked at the younger she-cat insensitivity. Didn't the apprentice notice her wound? Bark sat down with a thud and stared angrily at the pale ginger she-cat. "Do you want me to be slower than a snail? Because I can be slower than a snail. Just wait for one to pass me."
Sandpaw's lip curled into a sneer and she whipped around to trot away. When she reached the fern tunnel, she glanced back and made a noise of frustration when she noticed Bark had not moved. They glared at each other for so long, Bark thought that the green leaves would turn orange. Finally, Sandpaw padded back over to her and sat down.
"Whenever you're ready," she meowed at last, begrudgingly.
Bark was relieved. "Thank you." She paused, opened her mouth to say something else but settled on; "I think I can walk a bit faster than a snail for now." She meant it jokingly but Sandpaw didn't find it funny. With a sigh, Bark followed her over to the fern tunnel.
"Here it is," meowed Sandpaw, gesturing with her tail at a dark tunnel. When Bark stepped up to it, a wall of herbal scent hit her and she instantly sneezed, backing away from the fumes. Her eyes watered, as if she had suddenly been hit with the worst allergies imaginable.
"I can't go in there," meowed Bark, aghast and her voice stuffy as if from a cold. "I can't breathe in there."
Sandpaw's whiskers twitched in amusement. "Is the brave fox fighter afraid of a little smell?"
"Weren't you the one complaining about how I smelled like a badger?" Bark snapped back, very much not in the mood to take such foxdung from someone who was much younger than her. "You're such a stupid mouse, and here I was starting to think you were a cat! My mistake." She flicked her tail dismissively and half expected the apprentice to take that as her cue to leave. Lo and behold, it was not so.
Sandpaw growled at the dismissal and seemed to take it as a personal challenge to stay as long as she could tolerate it. She meowed loudly into the medicine cat den. "Spottedleaf! Some foxfaced ShadowClan reject is here to see you."
"She's not in camp, apprentice," rasped a she-cat.
Bark jumped and turned towards the dark shadow hiding beneath a bush not a foxlength away. Two narrow yellow flinty eyes stared back at her. If Bark's nose hadn't died from the medicine cat den, she might have detected a faint scent of marsh.
Sandpaw was obviously not pleased with this answer and snarled at her. "I wasn't asking you, fleabag."
Deciding that she had enough of Sandpaw's company, Bark was not so quick to dismiss the old gray she-cat. "Do you know where she's gone or, better yet, when she'll be back?"
The ragged gray she-cat snorted. "She's gone to collect herbs," she growled.
"Okay," said Bark, thinking that it could have been much worse and Spottedleaf could have died while no cat was looking. "I'm going to need something for this shoulder before it gets infected. You wouldn't happen to know any herbs, would you?"
The she-cat stared at Bark hard, as if her gaze could piece the flesh and see the bones underneath. Bark couldn't help the chill which went up her spine, the knowing sensation which passed through her thoughts. The old she-cat recognized her. The longer she stared, the more Bark's fur felt like it was standing on end.
"Dried oak leaves," the old she-cat meowed finally. "Chew it up in a poultice and spit it on the wound." Having said her piece, she turned her back on Bark.
Bark knew she couldn't enter the medicine cat den without her nose dying again, so she turned to Sandpaw. The pale ginger she-cat realized exactly what was expected of her.
"No way!" she meowed. "I'm not fetching them for you!"
Bark's eyes narrowed and she couldn't hide her contempt. "You are such an amazing apprentice. I'm sure you'll make a proud warrior, unwilling to fetch injured cats a few dried leaves. Your ancestors must be looking down at you with pride and awe as the greatest warrior who ever-"
"Shut up! I'll get you your stupid leaves!" barked Sandpaw, her fur spiked up and eyes flashing. She turned and marched into the medicine cat den, snapping over her shoulder with venom, "Foxface!"
An angry snarl spread over her face and she forced herself to glare at a grass stalk as she breathed through her nose to calm down. Sandpaw, she thought crossly, is even more infuriating in person. She hoped that Sandpaw would at least be more tolerable when she became a warrior, and suddenly there was a part of her that thought Sandpaw deserved to have her warrior ceremony postponed. It would be well deserved, the little mousebrain!
When the pale ginger apprentice emerged, she headbutted Bark's chest and dropped the dried oak leaves at her paws. She glared up at Bark, reminding the ex-human that she was much bigger than the apprentice. "Here, kittypet. Is there anything else you want?"
At this moment, Bark wanted nothing more than to return 'kindness' with 'kindness'. She blinked innocently at her. "That depends. Since you love jawing maybe you could help chew up these leaves and spit it on my wound? Unless, of course, you're too stupid for a simple duty like that."
Sandpaw gritted her teeth and reached for the leaves, before realizing something. "You can do it yourself," she meowed. "I was only instructed to escort you to the medicine cat den."
"You will make a proud warrior one day," Bark told her, mockingly sweet, as Sandpaw walked away. "I'm sure your mentor is proud that you can't even help a cat like me!"
Sandpaw's ears and tail flicked but she didn't turn around, grumbling to herself. Bark was torn between feeling extremely annoyed at Sandpaw's childishness or very disappointed that one of her favorite characters had tossed her aside based on something outside of her control. If I was born in ThunderClan, or another Clan, she'd automatically have respected me. Bark snorted to herself, suddenly finding herself disgusted with Sandpaw and the judgmental nature of the Clans.
Her gaze drifted to the dried oak leaves and she licked them up, her nose wrinkling at the disgusted taste and her eyes watering. She crunched the leaves up into pulp and spit it on her wound, ignoring the murmurings of the crowd which had gathered under the Highrock.
"All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"
The announcement had been entirely unnecessary beyond informing the Clan that Bluestar was ready to speak. Everyone became quiet and expectantly looked up at Bluestar, though some of the had already guessed what she was going to talk about and either looked resigned or annoyed. She could already hear the rumors, involving another "kittypet" becoming an "apprentice".
They're going to reconsider when they find out what I've done, she told herself, self-assured in her future accomplishment. Her gaze sought out Firepaw's, but the ticked-tabby tom was looking up at Bluestar. She watched him as Bluestar continued to speak.
"Cats of ThunderClan," yowled Bluestar, her calm gaze sweeping over the Clan. "As you well know, yesterday our warriors scented foxes on our territory. This morning, Lionheart led a patrol of warriors to push these foxes out of our territory. However, before he could move in to attack, a loner appeared and attacked the foxes. She was able to hold them off very well. As a result, the four foxes are no longer on our territory."
Bark felt her heart swell, pleased that Bluestar had painted her in a good light and she could feel that gazes of the other cats on her, looking at her with amazement and astonishment.
Bluestar continued, "Her name is Bark, and during the fight she was injured. So, to repay her for fighting off the foxes, we brought her back to our camp to be treated by out medicine cat. She has told us something very startling about the foxes that were on our territory. The twolegs have tagged them and are watching them carefully. If a tagged fox was found on our territory, dead, then the twolegs would know that we were here in the forest."
Bark could practically feel everyone's eyes on her as they erupted in to surprised meows and amazed yowls and she ducked her head, wishing she was hiding under a bush. She began licking more pulp into her wound, only to sneeze loudly. The sound caused a lot of cats to burst into amused purrs and she licked her chest, trying unsuccessfully to hide her embarrassment. Bark hoped she wouldn't start developing a permanent cold like Runningnose. Her eyes were watery.
"I've never heard of any cat taking on four foxes!" meowed an elder, a small-eared gray tom, looking at Bark with admiration.
"How did she managed to get on ThunderClan territory without anyone noticing?" meowed some cat else. "She must be a great hunter!"
"How long has she been on ThunderClan territory?" meowed Tigerclaw, looking at her with obvious contempt. "How much prey has she stolen?"
"Are you planning on turning her into an apprentice?" said some cat Bark couldn't see.
"I hope not!" said the unmistakable meow of Sandpaw. "She smells like crowfood!"
Bluestar gazed out over the Clan and raised her tail, and the Clan descended into silence. "She has also told me, Tigerclaw and Lionheart that loners and rogues are suffering at the paws of the twolegs in the twolegplace. Queens with kits and lone toms are being picked up off the streets and taken to the cutter. If the twolegs become aware of us, they will more than likely do the same to us."
The Clan yowled in horror at the news, giving Bark new looks of either pity or shock, as if expecting her to explain why this was happening or be sterile. Bluestar waited patiently for the yowls to die down before continuing.
"As a result of all this, Bark has asked to become a member of ThunderClan. She has expressed concern for her safety and realizes that we would protect any kits she has from the twolegs." Bluestar gazed around at the Clan. "She has a warrior's spirit and isn't afraid to fight four foxes at once." Bluestar hesitated, glancing at Firepaw. "I have decided to consider her request and will inform you all of my decision in a few days time. Until then, she will remain with Yellowfang in the prisoner's den." She jumped from the top of the Highrock and disappeared into the leader's den with Lionheart in tow.
That glance told Bark everything she needed to know - the Clan's prior murmurings cinched it. They were not a fan of Bluestar's decision to let Firepaw into the Clan and Bluestar was concerned that they'd reject Bark, or dislike Bluestar, on the same principles if she didn't explain her reasoning to the Clan first. Why couldn't she have just done that for Firepaw in the first place? she thought, glancing at the Clan.
They were no longer hostile to her, that was for sure, looking at her with sympathy and understanding or admiring her size and apparent strength. She had earned the Clan's sympathy at least, perhaps some admiration as well for handling the four foxes on her own. They also seemed a little flattered that she had come to them for safety and aid, and the pride of this showed on their faces. This was not an instance of the Clan leader going to outsiders for help; this was an outsider coming to them for help. They were flattered by her presence, while Firepaw's presence had offended them.
Bark realized all of this while watching the reactions of the Clan and felt assured that the Clan would accept her as a warrior in little to no time. That buoyed her confidence and she turned towards where Yellowfang was hiding in the prisoner's den, proud of herself for multiple reasons, and she stepped into the den.
"I guess that makes you Yellowfang," she meowed to the back of the dark gray and ragged she-cat. "I'm Bark."
The dead silence which greeted this remark hardly affected Bark's mood. "You don't smell of ThunderClan. Did you come from another Clan?" she asked, ignoring the fact that she currently could not smell.
"I'm from ShadowClan," meowed Yellowfang at last, glancing sideways at the fox-colored she-cat.
"Do they live in the marsh?" asked Bark.
Yellowfang sighed. "Can't you find someone else to pester?"
"You're the only one here, so no," meowed Bark, amused. "Can you tell me how to become a warrior?"
"You are made an apprentice and pass a warrior's assessment," meowed Yellowfang.
"What do warrior's do?" asked Bark.
"They hunt and fight for the Clan," meowed Yellowfang, rolling over to look at Bark irritably. "Why do you care, kittypet?"
"I'm no kittypet," Bark meowed, her voice turning hard in her annoyance but not yet snappish. "I was a loner before coming here and a rogue before that." She flicked her tail in irritation, trying to think of a way to convince this cat she was no kittypet. "Would a kittypet take on four foxes by herself or run away from twolegs?"
Yellowfang's flinty yellow gaze stared hard at Bark. "I suppose," she meowed, a hint of humor in her voice. "Why do you want to be a warrior?"
Bark hesitated. "It's safer with other cats than to be alone," she reasoned. "Besides, I need cats who will feed me when I have kits. You won't find that outside of a Clan."
Yellowfang frowned. "You just want to have kits here then?"
"No," said Bark, "but if I do have kits, I'd rather not have them while I'm trying to flee twolegs."
Yellowfang grunted her understanding. Bark felt a small amount of relief that Yellowfang wasn't going to question her any further. She padded around the den only to realize that she would have make her own nest. She padded out of the prisoner's den, hoping to find a queen or apprentice who could help her. The camp was mostly deserted beyond a few cats eating a couple of mice and sharing tongues. Eventually, Yellowfang started yowling for food, and Bark was unable to hang around the prisoner's den without her ears falling off. She padded up to the fern tunnel leading into the medicine cat den and settled down beside the entrance.
Bark recalled what Smudge had said about Firepaw, how he had been missing for two moons. He wouldn't become a warrior until his third moon or his fourth, but Bark wouldn't out it passed Bluestar to make him a warrior as soon as possible just so she can ensure he is ready to be made deputy before she dies. As thoughts of the deputy position filled her mind, she turned her attention to Tigerclaw. The dark brown tabby was almost black, except for his chocolate undercoat which made his black stripes visible. He was truly a dark warrior and, except for his stripes and darker coat, was perhaps the spitting image of his father.
She couldn't help her tail from lashing. She was perhaps two and a half moons away from becoming a warrior herself while Firepaw was only one away. During that time, Lionheart's position as deputy was being threatened by a very dark shadow that was hungry for power. Bark couldn't imagine what Ravenpaw must be feeling at that moment, knowing that this murderer – his mentor – was still stalking around the camp.
Once I'm made a warrior, she told herself, I'm going to make Tigerclaw regret ever being born.
It was sometime around dusk when a tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat emerged from the bramble tunnel into the camp, a bundle of herbs in her jaws. Bark was bored from sitting down at the medicine cat entrance, partially dozing off, when Spottedleaf walked into the camp carrying a bundle of herbs. Lionheart was the second cat to spot her and immediately rushed to her side, directing her to Bluestar's den. Confused, Bark sat back impatiently waiting for Spottedleaf to show up again.
It felt like hours had passed before the medicine cat re-emerged and began padding up the hill to the den... and continued walking passed Bark as if she wasn't even there. The fox-colored she-cat rose to her paws expectantly and turned to look inside of the den, recoiling when she accidentally got a whiff of the smell. It was something, she realized, eye watering, she was going to have to get used to and learn to use.
Spottedleaf padded out of the den seconds later with a dock-leaf wrap in her jaws, which she dropped at Bark's feet. The black-orange-and-white she-cat looked up at her, her amber eyes warm. Bark noted that she had a triangular, but she couldn't see her as being pretty. Well, she was pretty in the same sense that every other cat was pretty and she pretty in the sense she was both elegant and regal. She was like a princess walking around soldier boys.
"Eat two of these poppy seeds," she meowed. "Your wound will heal in a day, but try not to strain your shoulder until then."
"Okay, thanks," meowed Bark. "Spottedleaf, did Bluestar say anything to you about me joining ThunderClan?"
Spottedleaf narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, looking Bark up and down with a sudden seriousness that it made a shiver go down her spine. "In a sense," she relented. "Though I doubt your heart truly belongs in ThunderClan."
Bark nodded gratitude and picked up the leaf-wrap to carry to the prisoner's den and realized after a heartbeat of silence that Yellowfang had stopped yowling for freshkill and was watching the other side of the camp with interest. Bark put her leaf-wrap down and looked out over the camp only to see a very silvered gray tom hurry across the camp towards her with a piece of prey in his mouth. The amused look in his eyes, like he cared very little about being caught by Tigerclaw, remained transfixed on his face as he padded over to drop the freshkill – a thrush – and dropped it at her paws. Bark recognize Graypaw right away.
"Uh, Tigerclaw said you would need this since you hadn't eaten anything all day," he said at last.
Bark wondered, for a brief second, how Tigerclaw knew she hadn't eaten anything all day and noted with a glance out the prisoner's den that the dark warrior was watching her. "Thank you, sir," she meowed, politely. "Could you ask one of the queens to help me with my nest?"
Graypaw shrugged. "Okay," he meowed before padding away to the nursery. Bark blinked at the distinct dark stripe down his backside on an otherwise pale gray pelt, the very stripe which would earn him his name.
She shook her head and, remembering how cats ate prey, began to chew the thrush whole. It tasted like dust and dirt, but the moment her tongue hit the muscles underneath, she felt like she was eating the best tasting three course meal in her life. Her stomach growled in appreciation as she ate the feather, bones and fur. She vomit up the inedible bits later and bury it – as all cats did – and her jaws would be all the stronger for it.
A golden silvered tabby she-cat stepped into the prisoner's den a few minutes later. "Hello, Bark," she greeted.
Bark stopped chewing and looked up at the she-cat with surprise. "Uh, yes," she said, "I was hoping you might be able to help me build a nest."
The queen nodded. "Have you ever gathered moss before?"
"Not really," said Bark, and she left what remained of her freshkill behind as she followed the queen to the edge of the clearing. "What's your name?"
"Goldenflower," she meowed. "I have to admit, you look much older than a kit. You almost look like a fox."
For the first time, Bark wondered what she must have looked like to the cats around her. She knew her design was based off black or dark brown cats who rusted with age. She had a very reddish underfur which turned her shoulders, sides, tail and haunches red when she moved, but was otherwise a dark brown with white underbelly, cheeks, throat and paws – like a fox. She didn't know about her face and guessed it had some white and was mostly either dark brown or sable. Her eyes, however, were sun-gold. She noted, with a bit of surprise, that she stood a least an inch taller than Goldenflower and had broader shoulders.
"I might be a full twelve moons," Bark said, shrugging. She had been well over sixteen when she a twoleg. "I honestly don't keep track of that kind of thing."
"Well, it's always nice to have another she-cat around who cares about our kits," said Goldenflower. "Perhaps you'll be made an apprentice around the same time as my kits. They are a moon away from being apprentices. Brightkit and Swiftkit would be looking forward to it."
"How big are your kits?" Bark asked, imagining kittens half her size.
"A tail's width shorter than me," said Goldenflower, her fur fluffing up in pride. "I can't wait to see them become warriors! Oh, here's the moss."
Bark watched as Goldenflower carefully peeled a layer of moss off with her claws and tries to copy it, careful to prevent any splinters from the bark under it from collecting with the moss. After carefully rolling the long patches of moss into balls, they both turn back to the prisoner's nest.
"Are you thinking about returning to the warrior's den?" Bark meowed, looking expectantly at Goldenflower.
"No," said Goldenflower, obviously conflicted.
Bark decided not to ask about that and turned her attention to another question, "What does a warrior do?"
"They fight to protect the Clan with their life," meowed Goldenflower, "and hunt for the Clan so we don't starve. The queens, kits and elders are all fed first, too."
Bark nodded, but she was really only half listening. If anyone asked her where she learned the warrior code from, she wanted to be able to list names she heard something or other from and they'd feel satisfied at that. "Warriors fight to the death, then."
"Yes," said Goldenflower. "Well, we don't try to kill each other, but sometimes it's necessary for self-defense."
Bark nodded. They reached the prisoner's den and Bark and Goldenflower put down the moss balls.
"Do you need anymore help?" Goldenflower asked.
Bark shook her head, carefully laying out the moss with her five-toed paws. "Thanks, Goldenflower."
The thrush had vanished since she had left it and she guessed Yellowfang had eaten and buried the remains. Bark settled down on her mossy nest and was reminded instantly of her mattress at home. The sounds of the wind through the trees reminded her of the loud fan in her room which always helped her fall asleep at night. Closing her eyes, she found herself quickly falling asleep.
A shifting in the nest beside her and a yowl alerted her to Yellowfang being awake. She was able to mostly doze through the yowling, as Yellowfang demanded that that little ginger kittypet come over here and stuff some squirrel down her mouth right now or StarClan help her he will never have kits. Bark couldn't help but purr at her. After she had quieted down and probably been fed, Bark uncurled from her nest and looked over to see her happily munching down on a prime mouse.
"Yellowfang," she meowed, "can I ask you some questions?"
Unhappy with not being able to immediately have another nap, Yellowfang gave her a dirty look before mumbling grumpily to herself.
Bark took that as a "go ahead" and she worded her question carefully. "You seem a bit too scarred for a medicine cat. Were you a warrior before that?"
Yellowfang nipped her own shoulder, as if biting at a flea. "It was my destiny to become a medicine cat."
"Okay," Bark said, realizing that getting information from the old she-cat anything might very well be next to impossible. "Do you miss the warrior life?"
"No," Yellowfang said with a snort. "Too many furbrained cats in the den. Couldn't find a good spot of moss."
Bark couldn't help the purr of amusement. "How did you become a warrior and then a medicine cat?"
"You become an apprentice first," meowed Yellowfang. "Again, if you were a warrior once already and want to become a medicine cat. A warrior passes down all they know down to you, and then when you stop needing to ask questions, you become a warrior. If you are a medicine cat apprentice, you will remain an apprentice until your mentor is dead."
Yellowfang wasn't looking at Bark, her blank gaze having settled on four kits who were playing around in the sun. Bark recognized the gray pelt of the future medicine she-cat, Cinderpelt, among them. "A warrior protects the Clan, even at the cost of his or her own life," Bark murmured to herself.
Yellowfang flicked her ears as if swatting away an annoying fly. "A medicine cat communes with StarClan and learns how to treat wounds so we can heal the injured and the sick."
Bark nodded, growing quiet. "Do you miss your kits?"
Yellowfang hissed, sneering down at the kits. Bark wasn't fooled for a second.
"Are medicine cats not supposed to have kits?" she meowed, her voice innocent but her eyes were narrowed and probing.
Yellowfang shook her head and laid down to sleep. "Go bother some cat else."
Feeling guilty for poking Yellowfang's sore spot, Bark looked around at the camp outside the prisoner's den, hoping that something interesting might happen. She tried looking for Tigerclaw, but she couldn't see him. She licked her shoulder, which had dried overnight and scabbed, and wondered if she looked exactly like Pinestar might have, minus the white. Her paws felt restless again and she shifted on the moss bed.
"An adder!" yowled the gray apprentice.
Bark turned her head towards the three apprentices who had arrived through the bramble tunnel. Tigerclaw looked furious as he made his way to the leader's den. Bark felt her fur rise as she recognized the scene. She was about to say something to Yellowfang but realized that the gray she-cat wouldn't appreciate her being woken up from her sleep. Instead, she sat back and watched as Tigerclaw padded to the leader's den to tell Bluestar about Smudge.
Well, he knows Firepaw is okay now, she thought, amused. Now I don't have to tell him.
But now she was confused. Why would Tigerclaw care that Bluestar know about this? Was he trying to rub it in her face that she made a huge mistake with Firepaw? That seemed like something Tigerclaw would actively avoid trying to do, especially if he wanted to be deputy of the Clan after Lionheart.
Tigerclaw emerged from the leader's den looking smug and escorted Firepaw to Bluestar, only to be kicked out afterwards. Looking disgruntled, he padded away to grab a piece of freshkill and settle down in a position where he could see the entrance. Bark watched Tigerclaw as Tigerclaw pretended not to be watching the leader's den. They waited so long that Tigerclaw had finished his freshkill and was licking himself clean of blood a little too thoroughly.
When Firepaw finally emerged, Tigerclaw waited a few moments before he stood up and pretended to go about his duties. Bark noticed that he kept his gaze on Firepaw at all times, watching the red tom.
A chill went up her spine when those amber eyes briefly and accidentally looked at her and, for a moment, it seemed like they were both staring into each others soul. Tigerclaw was angry, an anger that was so deep down in his core that it seemed to reside at the edge of hell itself, and Bark knew that he could see that same anger inside of her, buried so deep that Bark herself had forgotten it was there. For a moment, Bark felt like some unknown force had connected them and intertwined their destinies together, pushing them in a direction she was not sure she wanted to go.
Then Tigerclaw turned away and the feeling was gone.
A/N: I quoted a couple of passages and dialogue in this chapter from Into the Wild. I don't intend to follow the book's plot word-for-word, though you might see some of their story still play a part here. I intend to stay as original as possible.
Into the Wild and all canon characters belong to Erin Hunter.
Last Edited: June 28, 2017
