CHAPTER 01: FALLS PARALLELED

Those were pawsteps.

Fat droplets volleyed from a set of white whiskers as Twister's broad head shot up. He could not spot any lithe form amidst the undergrowth, lush and emerald despite the smothering summer heat.

Good.

Rogues often sought prey here since the vicious Faction collapsed spectacularly, replaced by a new and expansive force. Though the dark blue tabby tom decided to resume his needed drink, he pricked his ears lest any cat attempt to approach unnoticed. Twister had no sooner touched his tongue to the muddy water than he heard a series of crackles. Not spoiling for a fight, Twister backed away from the detention basin and, after a slow turn, inched into a clump of deertongue and broomsedge.

"If you intend to creep up on some cat," a grave voice warned, "you should check the wind direction more often." Startled, Twister had sprung backward with a hiss. Only now did he recover enough to glower at the stranger before him, though his heart still rammed against his ribs.

When was the last time this cat groomed?

This stranger bore a long coat that appeared coarse and near-matted. Despite this and the greyness of dawn, his fur glowed with all the intensity of flame azalea blossoms and freshly fallen snow. Twister wondered whether this cat posed a threat.

He must have been noble at one time. Twister realised after appraising the stranger's demeanour. Fur aside, he still looks noble. Maybe he's not a threat after all. Even if we was, would I attack? Expressive tabby facial markings sloped deeply beneath the stranger's pale eyes, making them seem heavy-lidded like the eyes of an older cat.

"This is your territory, isn't it?"The ginger and white tom paced forward and raised his neck so that he was at eye level with Twister. "So why don't you defend it?" Yet Twister found did not flinch away from the stranger's aggressive gesture. Both tufted ears pricked forward rather twisted backward, a visible expression of nonaggression. Though he attempted to avoid direct eye contact and thus de-escalate the situation, Twister found himself entrapped in the ginger and white tom's stare. His eyes aren't hostile, but they're creepy. Twister tried to prevent the fur on his hackles from rising.

"I belong to Storm's rogues," the stranger reported after a long moment of silence. "If you don't use this territory, we will."

Twister heard his voice quaver as he announced, "Take it then. I don't respect your so-called territory, but I don't want a fight."

"Okay," the ginger and white tom prolonged the final syllable; the word seemingly evaporated like mist exposed to sunlight. "You have ten seconds to get out of my sight," he pronounced whilst unsheathing his claws, "or I'll treat you as a trespasser."

Slewing about, Twister bolted through the shallow water. Mud squelched beneath his massive paws, even after he emerged from the detention basin. Ahead, the conifers thinned and stalks of grass, motionless in the stagnant summer air, became visible. This marked difference in terrain meant escape from the ginger and white tom.

It'd be easy to disappear in all this grass. Twister slowed to a trot and surveyed the vast expanse of vibrant green grass punctuated with wildflowers. A sneeze exploded, unexpected, from his nostrils. All the wildflower pollen might disguise my scent too! thought the dark blue tabby with an amused twitch of his long whiskers. Twister flicked the drying grey-brown mud from his paws, then entered the meadow. Lest the ginger and white tom deliberately pursue him, he remained alert as he padded through the meadow.

A faint rustle to the right attracted Twister's attention. Those were pawsteps! Twister imagined the stranger stalking him. Don't be a mousebrain, Twister chided himself. Those steps are far lighter than cat's paws. Parting his jaws so as to taste the air, Twister realized a cottontail rabbit lurked nearby.

Muscles bunched as Twister crouched in preparation to spring. "Give chase until you've caught it," Twister repeated his mother's lesson in an undertone. Intoning his father's advice, he added, "There's no stalking it like in the forest." For all his bulk, Twister was not fast. Only one opportunity existed for Twister to catch the rabbit – and that involved surprising the swift creature.

Hindlegs pushing against the earth, Twister shot forward. When the rabbit paused with its ears pricked, Twister thought he might wedge the small creature between his forepaws. Life jeopardized, however, the rabbit fled. Twister pursued it, flattening his body with each sailing stride. Grass stems and bright wildflower blossoms brushed against his spine, nodding in a breath of wind. Each stride decreased the distance between Twister and the rabbit. Reinvigorated, the blue tabby revelled in the fluidity of his muscles and the wind riffling his thin fur. His breath still came without strain and his sides scarcely ached.

Then, the rabbit swerved. Twister could not change his course and raced across the edge of a bluff. Help me!

Teeth met in his scruff. Claws scrabbled for purchase in the earth and grass. Grunts of exertion emanated from between gritted teeth. For a long moment, Twister gawped at the turbulent brown river water littered with sharp stones. The distance had to be six or so tails down. Please hurry!

Then, with a strenuous grunt and a final heave, Twister returned to solid ground. Panting in reprieve, Twister sprawled momentarily on his left side. Recovered enough to thank his saviour, he shifted his gaze to the cat directly behind him. A waifish red tabby lay with her forelegs extended and her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

I'm practically twice her size! Did I hurt her?

"You – you alright?" Twister still felt short of breath.

She attempted to stand but quickly collapsed. "Ah, StarClan, I thought I'd fall again!"

"That's no answer," protested the blue tabby tom as the red tabby rolled onto her other side. What's StarClan? He already feared the worst – that the strain caused her to overheat or to bleed internally and so she was talking nonsense in her death throes. How can I help her?

Between wheezes, the molly wondered, "What possessed you to leap off that bluff?"

"A rabbit," growled Twister. "I hope he eats nothing but dung for a moon."

Breaths fluttered and white whiskers twitched in response. Why's she tittering? Twister wondered. Surely, if she fell before, she'd realize that other cats make mistakes every now and again? Vexed, he initially failed to notice the red tabby begin to stand. But were they possibly fatal? Oh, she's standing! Twister thrust his shoulder against hers, lest she collapse again.

"I'm alright now," her voice sounded suddenly blunt. "There's no need to support me." Still, there was an infinite kindness contained within her amber eyes that caused Twister to forget his earlier anger with her.

"I owe my life to you…"

"Su-Redbud, daughter of Honeysuckle and granddaughter of Starlight," she responded. "You are?"

"Twister," answered the blue tabby. Redbud had a peculiar sense of decorum. Lineage lacked importance in his community. "Son of Jacob and grandson of Shephard," he amended afterward, not wanting to offend her.

"Your mother has a peculiar name," Redbud commented with a slight nod. "I like it."

Dung! Were those cats she mentioned her mother and her grandmother? "Oh, Jacob is –"

Before Twister might finish and correct his blunder, an agonized yowl split the silence. One ear swivelled; Redbud remained oddly still for a moment before launching forward. She's going toward the forest!

"Wait!" Twister cried as he bounded in Redbud's wake. "You can't go there! It's dangerous!"

Glance over her shoulder at him, she retorted, "Would you have a cat die?"

But it might be you. All Twister could envision was the petite molly with long fur stained blood-red. Above her corpse loomed the ginger and white tom. Cream claws glinting with crimson, he lunged next at Twister. The pain translated into reality. Lungs burning and muscles aching, Twister struggled to keep Redbud within visibility. If she must travel into dangerous territory, the least I can do is protect her.

Thankfully, her route bypassed all Twister's old haunts and penetrated an unknown section of forest. Branches of ancient oaks and pines interwove into a dense canopy that shielded the dead leaves and pine needles underpaw from the blistering daytime heat. Here, Twister thought his vision unfurled.

A blue mackerel tabby tom hovered around a molly with a red tabby tail. White fur was visible in irregular sections; otherwise, the fur was dark with blood. Both her ears sustained severe lacerations; Twister thought they appeared shredded. Her leg bent at an awkward angle. What happened here?

Despite his injuries, the tom barred them from the injured molly. "Haven't you done enough for today?" he hissed with fur bristling. Fresh blood oozed from a shallow gash in his right shoulder. Still, the tom unsheathed his claws. "Well, you'll do no more!"