Chapter two: What is right

Sooo, I knew we would meet again! It's good to hear your voice again.
And not a heartbeat too soon, I finally remembered more about this ginger cat.
Although it's not very much, I do hope you enjoy it.

Here are just some authors notes you might want to skip, nothing really important I guess.

Well, yeah, I made it, I wrote another chapter. And I surprised myself with how quick I managed to write this one. I hope it's not too rushed... I don't really know. Ready the story myself is not like reading others stories. I don't find errors and stuff that fast. So I could need Your help to tell me, if this is too, well, rushed, what I could have made better and such... You know what I mean.

This would have been done even faster if I hadn't decided to visit the gamescom... I spent like the whole day there, without actually trying out a single game. This was really frustrating. But I didn't really want to wait 4 hours for my favorite game. Whatever.

The thing is, I have tonnes of ideas for this story in my head, but I have to fill the stuff between as well... I have to explain how and why good, old Rusty joins the clans before I can write stuff about him in the clan. I know, this is how most stories work … but it's sooo annoying.

And there's another thing for which I could use Your help... I plan on bringing some … romantic in the story … but I can't really decide with whom. Because I might get Rusty to save Spottedleaf later in the story and... well now I'm standing before the decision of Sandstorm or Spottedleaf... or maybe someone else? (Is this even a correct sentence?) Maybe different clan love? Maybe, I don't know, Mousefur? Na, that's probably not gonna happen. It's just ... I don't really know. You could state Your opinion in the comman- ahw, wait, sorry, wrong platform... write it as review.

And be warned, the next chapter will probably take waaay more time, because
1. I don't know who to begin or what I want to happen.

2. School (highschool? - Still don't know) starts wednesday... Soo maybe much less time to write.

3. Sports Clubs start again so my Wednesdays, fridays and sundays will be pretty much blocked.

Why do my authors notes always become that long? Well, as long as You still want to read the story, it's fine I guess.

Remember, that WarriorCats still belongs to Erin Hunter(s)

And now... Enjoy!

First came the smell, or better: the lack of smell. He didn't smell the biting scent of blood and neither the stale, old twoleg nest air. Only the fresh, soft scent from flattened grass, with some flowers he couldn't recognize.

Then, his sense of touch began to work again. The hart ground, which he fainted upon, was gone, replaced with a soft, smooth meadow. He felt the tender touch of the wind, brushing gently over his pelt.

His ears soon followed with a twitch; he could hear the happy chirping of birds, singing high in the trees, the squeaking of mice, searching for food on the ground, and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

And finally, his eyes opened. And the change hit him like a lightning strike. The old, crumbling twoleg nest was completely gone, replaced with a small, green clearing, surrounded by fern. Big trees towered over him, standing close enough to provide a cool shadow, but left room to walk around without problems. The location was overflowing with life, everything was green, and healthy and the air smelled fresh and full of pray.

His body was perfectly fine, he felt no pain, no scars covered his body, no blood sticking to his fur.

The pain of the previous days, weeks, moons was gone. He felt alive. Alive and ready to take on the world.

But this place held no danger. It was peaceful.

Rusty decided to use the time and move around a bit, enjoying the surroundings. Even though his wounds were healed, his hunger wasn't satisfied.

He detected a mouse, sitting beside the root of a huge tree, nibbling at a nut.

Without thinking, he instantly dropped in a hunters crouch, moving forward without uttering the slightest sound. He crouched until about a tail length divided him from his prey. He tensed his muscled, unsheathed his claws and was ready to jump.

But a heartbeat before he jumped, a raindrop fell on his head. The liquid seeped into his fur. Rain? Another drop landed between him and the mouse, which moved its head in the direction of the sound. It saw Rusty and directly vanished between in the undergrowth.

Rusty hissed in anger. Someone really wanted to see him starve. Meanwhile had the little dibble changed to a pouring downfall.

He couldn't find another piece of prey. The whole forest seemed all of sudden empty... lifeless. No Bird was singing its soothing song, no mouse rustling through the grass, on it's search for food. Not even the tiny insects, which were usually found everywhere someone goes, could be found.

His ears went flat, something was wrong.

The air reeked, once again, of blood. And that was when he noticed:

This isn't rain! Horror seized him. This is blood!

The crimson liquid fell endlessly from the sky, dyeing everything red. All the once green, healthy plants withered under the never ending downfall of gore.

Rusty began to run as fast as his legs could carry him, through a dying forest. But had no idea where he was going - or where he was in the first place.

Only one though drover Rusty's body: Shelter. He had to get out of this madness.

Running blindly through the forest, he soon discovered a river, blocking his path. Water wasn't flowing in the riverbed, only thick, sticky blood. It was impossible to swim through that, but he found a huge accumulation of rook, with little caves in it. It was the best could find, so he hurried directly toward a rather larger cave, crouched down and into it, pressing his back against the cold stone wall, desperately trying to hide from the crimson storm, raging outside.

But even the cave offered no protection; The air was filled with blood. He had the feeling, he was suffocating. Sticky blood covered his fur, had ran in his eyes, his ears, his mouth. It filled his lungs, blocked him from oxygen.

His head was spinning, senses leaving: Eyes already blinded by sticky, sour, crimson blood, followed with the blocking of his ears by the drying substance. Soon the feelings on his body failed him too: He didn't feel the cold stone cave anymore, neither his soaked pelt, pulling him down and the puddle of blood around him was gone as well. It was like he was falling. No feelings at all.
Only his nose was still doing it's job. And the only scent it perceived was the one of fresh blood.

He was terrified beyond expressing. Couldn't open his mouth to scream, couldn't even whimper. Rusty was about to disappear, he could feel it. Or not feel it, as it was.

But he refused to vanish just like that, holding onto the last bit of consciousness he managed to get a grip on. Blind, numb and deaf, all he had left to indicate, that he was still there was the sour smell of blood.

And then, there was another scent. It was barely noticeable at first, just a faint hint of a change in this mess.

But it grew in intensity every heartbeat, until overpowering the foul stench of blood.

Rusty couldn't quite define the new sensation; it was a bit like dry leaves and dust. But had something rotten as well. It felt ancient.

"Your path had been one of suffering"

His ears where still deaf, but the sound seemed to come from everywhere, it was echoing through his head.

"For misery made you stronger, more powerful"

The voice was the one of a she-cat, old and long broken and yet strong and unyielding. Who was this cat? He had never heard her voice before.

"To prepare for what is awaiting you"

Awaiting him? His life had pretty much just begun.

"You will protect, You will lie"

Protect? What did he have to protect? He was alone.

"You will lose, You will cry"

And what was she even talking about? He had shed his last tear moons ago. And now, he felt like he had no more left.

"You will fight, You will die"

A shiver ran down his spin. Is she predicting my future? Will I die soon?

"You will shatter and yet survive"

She isn't making any sense!

"Too much blood will be spilled. Rivers will run red, stones covered in crimson and enemies will meet for their final battle. And a time will come, when the end seems near, where you will take destiny in your own paws, to forge a brighter future. And the other great three will bow their heads before you."

Rusty had so many questions

Where am I? Is that my future? How do you know all this? Who are the great three? Who are you?

and yet couldn't ask a single one, since his mouth was still blocked and his mind clouded.

But the she-cat had heard him nonetheless "Don't fear, young one, for time will solve all mysteries, but for now you must go on"

And as if her words where a trigger, his head exploded with sensations; A hard ground he laid upon, the faint rustle of leaves far away, dusty, stale air to breath.

And blood.

And Pain.

Lots of pain. His sides burned like set ablaze, his frontpaws felt ready to fall off and his back was bruised. He didn't try to hold back the yowl escaping his throat.

After a few moments of getting used to the pain, he slowly tried to open his eyes. They weren't sticky, as he thought they would be, no blood was blocking his eyes, nor his ears or mouth.

And then he was confused. He had expected to find himself in a little cave, huddled together against the wall, but instead opened his eyes in an empty, dusty twoleg nest, lying on the ground.

This didn't make any sense. He had been running through a large forest, just a moment before and fell unconscious in a cave by a blood filled river, but opened his eyes in a twoleg nest?

Just then landed his eyes on the body of another cat. And it all came back.

His "adventure" into bloodclan territory, being chased by those two cats, fighting against Smudge and Shadow, killing the later one, dragging the beaten Smudge with him, patching the black-white tom up, falling unconscious.

He had dreamed. The forest, the hunt, the blood-storm, the suffocation, the she cat.

It was all just a dream.

But it felt so real. Especially the she-cat. And what's about her prophecy? It was a dream, right?

But he couldn't think about this now. Judging from the orange sunlight outside, it had to be just about sunset. He had slept through the whole day!

And Smudge had begun to turn and moan in his sleep. Rusty was grateful that he didn't wake Smudge with his cry and promised himself to look after Smudges wounds later, since he hadn't eaten in days and Smudge was probably as hungry as he was. So he left the twoleg nest, and ventured to the only place he had to hunt: The forest.

He had never liked going near this place, stories about a group of merciless cats, living together in their so called "clan" and punishing all, not clan born, intruders. Sometimes with a warning, sometimes with wounds to remember and sometimes even with death. His brother was a shining example. Some stories even picture them as cannibalistic, eating the flesh of still living kittypets.

What a cruel idea.

Why do all clans have to be so barbaric? Is asking for one nice clan, who doesn't kill trespassers on sight, too much to ask?

But he could go nowhere else; the twolegplace was full of bloodclan, which are probably upset, since he killed one member and abducted another. And he had no desire for another fight with those bloodthirsty cats. The remaining part of the twolegplace is pitiful small and full of kittypets, who scare the already low amount of prey away.

So the forest was his choice. He never ventured deeper then the first row of trees, his mother had prevented it and when his mother was no longer with them, his brother got himself killed in there.

His desire to explore this dark and mysterious place died back then.

He jumped on the half rotten, wooden fence, which separated the old twoleg nest from the forest.

He threw one last glance back, on the old nest, with the sleeping form of Smudge. The tom was still unconscious and Rusty hoped, he would find him the same way when he returned.

If I return. Told him the small voice of doubt in his head.

But he knew it had to be done.

So he turned his head back towards the woods, tensed his muscles and jumped.

The grass on this side of the fence was as soft as the one on the other side. The light was the same, as was the wind. The only thing that changed slightly, was the light smell, that hit his nose. The scent of tree bark, fern and brambles. And prey.

His paws carried him slowly towards the dark shadows of the big trees, carefully observing every movement he detected. From the light rustle of the bushes in the wind, to the faintest stir of the ferns, he noticed it all. But he found no signs of cats, no pelt between the bushes, no scent in the air and no blinking eyes in the shadows.

He was alone. For every tail length he got deeper into the woods, the scent of prey got stronger. And finally he found a plump mouse beside a large bush with bright, red berries. It hadn't spotted him yet. So the flame colored tom let himself fall silently to the ground.

He was used to hunt big, slow rats, whose ears where dulled form the noisy twolegs. But forest mice where another story. He knew they where very quick and had a excellent hearing.

And he needed food. Desperately.

So he crouched agonizing slow in the direction of his prey, which, oblivious to his presence, was still nibbling on a nut.

This scenario seemed terribly familiar. It was nearly the same as the one of his dream.

Out of reflex he looked up. But the sky was still orange, the few clouds, far in the distance, had a golden sheen.

A beautiful sunset. If he only had the time to watch.

But he still had prey to catch. Turning his eyes back to the mouse, and tasting the air for any new scents. When he found none, he released him muscles and flung himself right at the small animal.

The mouse saw him flying, but was too slow to react. Rusty had already hit it with his paws and dug his claws into its small body. It went limp after a few heartbeats and Rusty wasted no time, devouring the poor object at top speed.

He would have savored his meal, if he wasn't on hostile territory and had to fear a patrol discovering him. He also had to continue hunting, to catch something for Smudge.

Therefore buried he the remains of the mouse and tasted the air.

Beside the strong scent of mouse did he smell something he couldn't recognize. Curiosity getting the better of him, he followed the trail and soon found himself roughly a fox length afield from a red pelted animal. It had a bushy tail and was about three times longer then a mouse.

This would surely satisfy Smudge, although Rusty had no idea how to catch this... thing, he didn't have a name for it yet. He would just try it the normal way, dropping into a hunters crouch, he slowly crawled closer to the furry animal. But when he was in range to jump, the wind turned, and the prey detected him.

And, in contrast to Rusty, knew what he was.

And it made a run for it.

And it was fast.
Rusty rushed after it instinctively, gaining on his prey. His meal from before had strengthened him and gave him the energy he needed for this hunt.

But before he could reach the animal, had it started to climb the newest tree and started to climb amazingly fast. But Rusty wouldn't let his prey outsmart him and made a jump for it.

He collided with the tree with such force, that it knocked the air out of his lungs. He fell down backwards, but his claws had still hit the preys bushy tail and because of that, dragged it down with him. The red animal desperately tried to escape but, thinking fast, was killed quickly by a bit to the neck from Rusty.

Picking the prey with his jaw up, he turned around and followed his trail back to the old nest.

His hunt was a success, he had caught a mouse and another thing, which was annoying to carry, since it was way to furry. But he had managed to open up some wounds on his flank again, when he jumped against the tree, and left a few drops pf blood eon the ground every few paw steps.

But it didn't matter to him, all in all, it was a success.

Against his expectation, was Smudge wide awake when he arrived. He was still siting in the same spot, washing his wounds now. He looked way better then last time, his eyes weren't clouded by pain and grief anymore, his pelt was clean and he didn't have this dejected expression.

When the black-white tom spotted rusty with his prey, his eyes brightened up.

"There you are! I was afraid you had left me!" Smudge obviously tired to make a hurt face, but couldn't suppress his smile.

When Rusty padded over and put the prey between Smudges pawn, the older toms jaw fell open.

"You caught a squirrel? How did you manage that? And you pass it to me?"

Rusty couldn't hide his chuckle, the tom had so much fuss over nothing.

" I have already eaten and you need some food too. Beside what's so special about a, what did you call it? Squirrel?"

Smudge gratefully rammed his sharp teeth into the soft meat.

"You aren't telling me this was the first one you ever tried to catch, are you?" The disbelieve shown in his eyes didn't suit the fresh blood around his mouth at all.

"What's the big deal? It tried to climb a tree and I was faster. That's it."

"You, my friend, are a born hunter. I can tell you, when I was still part of bloodclan, we tried to catch those nimble beasts, but never actually caught one, they were to fast for us and if we managed to corner one, it just turned around and climbed the next fall."

Rusty wanted to tell the tom, that they weren't really friends, that they actually were enemies. But somehow liked the idea of having at least one friend in this cruel world and therefore remained silent.

He watched Smudge consume his meal in silence and thought about his next actions. Should they stay in this twoleg nest and continue catching prey from the forest, risking their lives? They could travel onward, searching for a better place to live. But they didn't know what would await them.

Smudges voice broke his train of thought.

"You know, I would have never thought about using cobwebs to treat injuries, but it's apparently very effective. And thank you, I wouldn't be here, if you hadn't rescued me."

But he didn't feel proud after this statement.

"Shadow would still be alive and you would still be with her, unharmed, if I hadn't come into your territory in the first place" answered he bitterly. He just couldn't stop thinking about the broken body of the young she-cat.

Smudge seemed not surprised by his reply, as f he expected Rusty to feel guilty. He merely sighted

"It was Shadows fault we attacked you, after chasing you and she was too stubborn to admit her defeat. It was her nature. Even if you had never crossed our path, someone else would have eventually and she would have died to someone else. And I know it was an accident, I saw the look in your eyes. I think you are a goodhearted cat. It's not important that you accidentally killed a cat, but that you saved another cats life, even if you really dislike them and risked your own live in the process. Because You knew it was the right thing to to. That is what really maters."

Rusty was speechless. This was one of the kindest thinks he ever heard and he would remember it for a long time.

He could just mutter a weak " Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me for anything, I just reminded you of things you knew already and had forgotten." Smudge grinned and licked the leftovers of blood from his paws and mouth.

Rusty had to grin as well. "And since when are you that wise?" The mood was pleasant again.

A black-white tail hit his ear playfully. "When you become as old as I am, you will understand"

"But you aren't that old! Old cats are supposed to have gray hair and weak bodies." And after hearing a small burp from Smudge he chuckled and added: "and have good manners"

Smudge, after hearing that, started to limp like a tree legged cat. "Oh" he started in a false, breaking voice, "believe me, I am ancient, I have seen thinks you can't even imagine. So respect you elders and let an old cat have some rest, will you?" And with that laid Smudge down and curled in a ball.

Rusty would let him have his way, he knew Smudge was roughly four moons older than him, he wouldn't call that ancient, but he would let him have his rest, he was tired as well. But he would like to hear about those "thinks he can't even imagine".

But those had to wait for another day. The sun had already vanished behind the horizon and the action of his hunt had mad him sleepy.

He laid down and decided that they would have to regain their strength first, before they could determine what to do next. And with those thoughts in mind, he drifted into a hopefully peaceful sleep.

Several days have come and gone since their arrival at the abandoned twoleg nest and most things went smoothly.

Smudges wounds have healed far enough for him to start hunting with Rusty. Smudge was a bit clumsy at first, having not hunted in days and being used to the narrow alleys instead of the open woods, but he was getting the hang of it.

And Rusty was impressed. Smudge was adapting faster then he had expected and, even though being slowed down by his injuries, he was holding on well.

But not everything was as perfect as it seemed.

Rusty had smelled different cats close by, their scent always stale, as if they had been there half a day earlier, but it was always there. He feared they would meet someday. And that this "meeting" would end in a blood bath. Smudge had noticed it too, but Rusty had not told him about his fears.

Smudge seemed to be bothered enough anyway. He was getting unfocused while hunting and when they trained, he sometimes just spaced out, just standing there taking a blow.

And it disturbed Rusty, that the tom wouldn't tell him what it is. He would always avoid his questions, or tell him it was nothing, as if he was ashamed of something.

Then one day, after a fruitful hunt, which resulted in two sparrows, one small mouse and a ripped out claw of Smudge, they settled down outside the nest, on the soft lawn to eat and enjoy the sunset.

And while they ate, Rusty confronted Smudge with his thought.

"Smudge, something is bothering you, I feel it, I see it, so please tell me what it is."

The tom looked unhappy with the beginning of this conversation.

"Nothing. I'm alright. Really." It was a poor excuse, and they both knew it.

"No, You're not alright, you get distracted when we train, don't really pay attention when we hunt, sometimes you even space out while we speak! You mumble in your sleep and look more unhappy each day. Please, I'm begging you, tell me what's wrong!"

"You are not going to let this go, are you?" It wasn't a serious question, both knew the answer already.

He sighted. "Fine then, but you won't like what I'm going to tell you now. I don't want to fight anymore, Rusty. I'm tied of having to treat my injuries, or getting injuries in the first place! I don't want to fear for my life every time I stand up on the morning. All my life, I never did anything else beside fighting, hunting and fearing for myself. I...I want t-" He hesitated.

Rusty wasn't really surprised, he had expected something like this.

"It's alright, go one, I don't judge you for your decisions." He smiled sincerely.

"Okey, well, I-I'm planing on becoming a k...kittypet." Smudges face was one of pure shame.

Most loners, or clan cats, saw the life of a kittypet as the most dishonorable life, one could choose to live. They didn't have to fight, to hunt, to care.

But Rusty didn't think like that. He had been a kittypet himself and he remembered the comfort of having someone care for him, enjoy being with him, instead of running around all day alone.

He could understand Smudge, but wouldn't trade his life for the one of a kittypet. He enjoyed too much the feeling of wind, brushing over his pelt when he ran, the thrill of a good hunt, the taste of fresh prey or the freedom to go wherever he wants, when he wants.

"It's okey, I understand. And I don't think of you as coward. It's only right to go for the life, you want to live. But I can't follow you. When you go, you will have to go alone."

The troubled look on Smudges face vanished and was replaced by one of relief.

"Thank you, for your understanding. And yeah, I knew our paths would separate. You're destined to be much more then just a kittypet. But before I leave, let us enjoy this last sunset together."

And Rusty could only nod. They sat on the lawn, side by side, watching a bright sun turn the blue sky into into pure gold. A light wind whispered around them, ruffling their pelts. And once again, the birds sung their beautiful song. And they both sat quietly, side by side, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their bodies.

And as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the endless landscape, the two toms stood up.

"It has been an honor, spending my last few days as a free cat with you, Rusty." Said Smudge without averting his gaze from the dimming horizon. "I will forever remember these day."

"And I, too, will not forget about you Smudge, may your ancestors guide your path." It wasn't easy to take farewell from yet another cat, who made his way close to his heart.

"My ancestors huh?" He mumbled and a small smile crossed his face. "I try to imagine what they would think right now" His smile grew wider. "Look at that wimp, loosing all his family, being then trained to become a heartless killing machine, loosing to a nameless loner younger then him and ultimately humiliating himself by becoming a kittypet. And is now on the verge of tears over leaving a friend he had only meet about two weeks before. Yeah, they really must be proud of me."

And the black-white tom began to purr of laughing. "I don't care what they think, I do what I feel is right. Just as You do."

Rusty pressed his flank one last time against his friend. "Take care, Smudge"

And Smudge seemed to absorbed the moment for a heartbeat long, before he started to walk away. But not without stopping after the first three steps. He turned his head one last time. And gave a glance at the silverpelt above them.

"I have no gods to pray to. But still, I pray, that your journey will be safe."

And then he left. The tom jumped onto the brick wall to his right and vanished on the other side.

Maybe they will meet again, some time in the future. Who knows.

But Rusty was sure, that this was a final goodbye. And he was alone once again.

He still didn't know how to go on, and therefor just lay down on the exact same spot from before, watched the silver stars make there way though the sky and enjoyed the peaceful night.

Soo, jup that's it, he still didn't join the Clans and I made a very poor excuse, of how to get rid of someone. Well, could have been worse, right? ….Right? …
Ahw damn it.

And I noticed my cats don't really behave cat like. They rarely hiss, or purr or use their tails or ears or whiskers... I'm just not used to this.

Well, I hope it was still okey, see ya – hopefully – next time!