Edit: Re-edited on 08/08/2016
IMPORTANT: As part of re-editing, I have decided to change the format of the story slightly. Instead of having some parts in first person and some in third person I'm going to keep to third person for everyone except Rogue. This is to make it simpler and so I don't need to state whose POV each part of the story is from - you guys are clever enough to work that out anyway! Rogue's narration will still be in first person present-tense, because I believe it adds to the story and just makes it more interesting. But I'm only in the process of doing it, so if later chapters still have 'Ivypool's POV' or 'Rogue's POV' etc. then it's because I haven't gotten to that yet, but I'll try to do it as quickly as possible!
Also, I fully intend to finish this story, even if it takes a while. I'm really sorry for all the long delays in updates.
Edit: This chapter was edited on 10/08/2015 and has been improved.
Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors or anything you recognise.
Just to warn you, when you get to the rogue's POV at the bottom there is a change of tense from past to present. This is intentional; it symbolises how he's living in the present and not dwelling on the past like most cats/humans do. Every other POV will be in past tense.
Also, in later chapters because I introduce a lot of characters I have started to put a character list at the beginning of every chapter. It may not seem necessary in the early chapters because there aren't many characters, but for the sake of neatness I've decided to start it at chapter one anyway.
Enjoy.
Clan Cats:
Ivypool
Rogues:
Ginger
Kittypets:
Mauble
Chapter One
~ Lost ~
Ivypool shivered and fluffed up her fur. She had been walking for quite some time now and her paws were aching. Who needs Dovewing and her know-it-all airs? Who needs Firestar and Lionblaze with their special treatment of her? Who needs any of them? Ivypool chanted in her head, every paw step thudding dully on hollow-sounding ground.
She didn't care if the earth collapsed – at least she wouldn't have to go back to ThunderClan. Maybe Hawkfrost would come and get her, and bring her home to the Dark forest. That's my real home. The Dark Forest. At least they treat me like an equal there.
A few foxlengths ahead of her lay the Thunderpath she would need to cross in order to reach the Twolegplace, which was where she was planning to spend the night. An icy gust of wind caused her to shiver again.
*ROOOOAAAAAR*
Ivypool flinched as a monster zoomed along the Thunderpath, splashing her with dirty water from a puddle. Maybe I'll cross the Thunderpath tomorrow... No. I will cross it now. Hawkfrost didn't spend all that time training me just so I could end up a coward, she thought firmly. Her ears flattened as she remembered her last session with the Dark Forest warrior. He had pushed her to her limit, but eventually she ended up on top. Of course her victory had absolutely nothing to do with him tripping on a tree root…
Either way Hawkfrost had realised there was something bothering Ivypool and when she told him, instead of growling at her for acting like a mewling kit in the way she had expected him to, he had touched his muzzle to her ear and told her everything would work out as long as she remained strong.
Ivypool sighed heavily. She had decided she needed some time alone with her thoughts away from her sister, the Clan, and the Dark Forest, so here she was – soaking wet and stinking of Thunderpath. Forcing her legs to keep moving, Ivypool limped across the Thunderpath when there was a long lull in the stream of monsters.
"Ah," Ivypool gasped when she reached the other side and set her paw on the ground. "Fox dung," she snarled, realising she had some grit caught in her pad. Focused on trying to lick her pad better, she didn't hear the rogue approaching until he spoke.
"Now, what would a pretty young cat like you be using such language for?" meowed a rough-edged voice.
Ivypool's head shot up and her blue-eyed glare met the curious, amber-eyed stare of a large, overgrown, dirty ginger tom cat. "None of your business," she snapped, her temper worn thin from travelling. It didn't help that the pain from the grit in her pad was also making her irritable.
For a moment both cats, one slightly built with silver and white fur, the other heavily built with dirty ginger fur, were bathed in the harsh yellow light from a Monster as it flashed past.
"You're on my territory. That makes it my business," the tom replied casually.
Ivypool almost choked on disbelief. "Your territory? Sure, and I'm a horse," she retorted, jumping forwards suddenly when another monster roared by. The ginger tom didn't even flinch. His eyes flashed with amusement.
"As much as I'd like to stay here by the Thunderpath and argue it out, don't you think it would be better if we were warm and dry before continuing?" he suggested smoothly.
Ivypool widened her eyes. He must be joking if he thought she would follow him anywhere. "In your dreams," she growled.
The ginger tom tilted his head to one side. "You're by yourself, soaking wet, limping, and clearly exhausted. You sure you don't want to get warm and dry?" he offered again, apprising her with his eyes.
He has a point, and I suppose I have nowhere else to go... "Fine, but if this is a trap then I'll kill you," Ivypool relented. Even if it was a trap, it wasn't like she was defenceless. Besides, she wouldn't last long in the cold and wet if she refused his offer. What did she have to lose?
"I thought you'd see it my way. Follow me." The tom turned around and padded back in the direction he had come from.
"I don't see it your way, I just know my limits and staying out here any longer would definitely be pushing my limits," Ivypool corrected him, limping as fast as she could to catch up.
"Here we are. Welcome to my den." The ginger tom swept his tail around in an arc, indicating the whole of the abandoned monster den.
"It's draughty and I can hardly see anything," Ivypool complained, her limp much more pronounced as she made her way over to a pile of straw in a corner.
The ginger tom rolled his eyes. "There's no pleasing some cats." Following her, he settled down about a tail length away from her, his eyes fixed on hers. "Let's start with names. What are you called?"
Ivypool began licking her paw, cleaning out the grit. "You first," she mumbled around her paw.
"Nuh-uh; I'm the host, you first."
Ivypool glared at him. "No way, rogue. Unless you want me to call you that." She smiled innocently.
The ginger tom shrugged. "All right, call me Rogue. No one around here knows my real name anyway; they all just call me Ginger. Rogue will be a refreshing change," he paused and added with a glint his eye, "as long as I can make up a name for you."
Ivypool paused mid-lick to stare at him. "Fair enough, but you do realise that rogues are hated by the Cl... by most cats, right?" she managed to correct herself quickly, but she saw the interested gleam in his eye and inwardly berated herself. He knew what she had been about to say.
"A Clan cat, eh? I think I have the perfect name for you." Rogue grinned in a slightly malicious manner. "How about Queen?"
"Queen?" Ivypool repeated, confused.
"'Queen' is the name for she-cats nursing kits in the Clans, is it not?" Rogue asked, watching her closely. Recognition flashed in Ivypool's eyes.
"Yes, but it is not, never has been, and never will be my title," Ivypool replied tightly, licking her paw more vigorously.
Rogue curled his thick tail around his paws. "Are you sure it never will be?" he purred.
This time, Ivypool froze in disgust. "You're sick, you know that?" she hissed. Her eyes narrowed to slits of ice.
Rogue gave her a yellow-toothed grin. "I'll take that as my cue to say goodnight. See you in the morning," he said pleasantly and padded over to the other corner without glancing over at Ivypool once.
Left pretty much by herself again, Ivypool curled up on the straw and closed her eyes miserably. She felt like a sewage rat with her sodden fur, muddy paws, and knotted pelt. She was physically drained from moons of restless nights and was beginning to lose hope. She was stuck with a maniac rogue in an abandoned Twoleg nest with nowhere to go. If her Clanmates saw her now, they would probably disown her for behaving like a mousebrained kittypet. Sighing, she reflected that at least she was dry and beginning to warm up. If nothing else, she could be thankful to StarClan for that.
When Ivypool opened her eyes the next morning she stretched and yawned, feeling much better than she had the previous night. It had been the first relaxing, dreamless sleep she had had in a while. Upon sitting up she noticed the sunlight streaming in through the entrance to the monster den gave the whole place a warm but strange glow. What a difference the sun could make – it actually helped the place look half decent, if she could ignore the unnaturally straight walls and faint smell of Twolegs.
As she looked around she saw no sign of Rogue anywhere, and lightly wondered if she had dreamed him. She had been half asleep when she crossed the Thunderpath last night, after all. Feeling much happier, she set about giving herself a good, thorough wash until her fur was fluffy again and shone prettily in the sunlight. When she tested her paw, she found that it didn't hurt nearly as much and thought that maybe there had never been any grit stuck in it in the first place. It was possible that she had simply scraped it.
"This place isn't so bad. I could imagine staying here for a while, at least until I can decide what I'm going to do next," Ivypool murmured to herself, wandering around the den and nosing at a few strange Twoleg objects curiously. Her rumbling tummy then reminded her that she hadn't eaten for nearly two days and she groaned. "The only thing missing is a decent meal," she muttered.
The sound of paw steps approaching alerted Ivypool just before Rogue's head appeared in the entrance. Ivypool drew in a breath when she saw him properly in the sunlight for the first time.
He was heavily built with lots of muscles but not in the least bit fat. His powerful shoulders rippled with strength as he walked towards her and the sun danced off his bright ginger pelt giving it a handsome gleam. His face, framed by soft fur, was well-shaped and noble-looking. He had several scars, Ivypool noticed: a deep v-cut in his left ear, three scratch marks on his right cheek that barely missed his eye, and a long, thin scar stretching from his shoulder to his hind leg where the fur had barely grown back. But the scars added to his appearance, giving him the air of a seasoned yet handsome warrior.
However, it was what Rogue carried in his mouth that really drew Ivypool's attention: a fat, juicy-looking rabbit.
Seeing her gazing at him, Rogue dropped the rabbit and smirked at her. "Like what you see?"
Ignoring him, Ivypool darted forward and snatched up the rabbit, dropping it a tail length away and placing her paw on it to claim it as hers. "Definitely," she nodded, her eyes fixed on the rabbit in awe. She would never tell him this, but the rabbit was pretty heavy, and so to carry it from wherever he caught it without dragging it was quite a feat.
"Eh, I didn't mean the rabbit..." Rogue muttered.
Ivypool smiled sweetly at him. "I know. Thanks for the rabbit, you shouldn't have got it just for me," she added cheekily.
Rogue shook his head. "Honestly, she-cats! One moment they'll bite your head off and the next they're in the mood to play," he tutted.
Ivypool looked down at her paws, feeling slightly ashamed. "I want to apologise for how I acted last night. I wasn't in the best of moods, so thank you for letting me stay the night here."
"Nah, that's okay. What's life without a few moody queens?" Rogue joked.
Ivypool ignored him and started eating the rabbit as fast as she could. When she was full and there was still a lot left, she finally looked back up at him. "Thanks. For the rabbit, I mean. But I am not letting you call me Queen."
"Why? Are you going to give me your real name then?" Rogue asked.
Ivypool stood and began padding towards the entrance. "No chance," she said over her shoulder. "Thanks again for letting me stay."
Rogue bounded ahead of her, blocking her path. "Hey, where are you going?"
Ivypool glared up at him. "Please move," she said in a polite a tone as she could manage through bared teeth.
"No. Where are you going?" Rogue pressed.
Ivypool sighed. "I don't know. Now will you move?"
Rogue held her stare. "You could stay here a while longer until you decide where you're going next," he offered, unaware he was echoing her earlier thoughts.
"I couldn't possibly intrude any longer," she mewed firmly, her voice becoming more polite the more annoyed she got.
"You're a Clan cat; you won't last five minutes in the Twolegplace on your own. What's wrong with staying here to get your bearings, at least?"
Realisation hit Ivypool like hail in Greenleaf. "You're lonely," she guessed, her eyes wide.
"No, I just..." Rogue protested.
"That's why you let me stay last night. You were lonely."
"Fine," Rogue growled. "I was lonely. Go if you want." He stepped aside but Ivypool didn't move.
"I think I'll stay after all. We're both lost, and in need of companionship," Ivypool decided.
"Whoa," Rogue raised his tail. "Lost? I know exactly where I am, thank you very much."
Ivypool gazed at him for a heartbeat. "I don't think you do," she whispered. "Now, are you going to show me the territory or are we going to sit here arguing like two elders all day long?" she added in a more confident voice, trotting out of the entrance with her tail held high.
Rogue stared after her, confused. Her words had pierced his inner shell, something which no other cat could do. Thinking he was going to regret it later, he rose to his paws and followed the pretty white-and-silver she-cat almost unconsciously.
The sun's rays are setting as we finally come to a halt on top of a brick wall bordering a Twoleg garden. After the she-cat's probing of my feelings this morning, she had become quiet as I led her round the Twolegplace, but seemed to cheer up when I started showing her some of the great sights you can see from tall buildings if you climb all the way to the top.
"Hey, Rogue?" she (I still haven't come up with a name for her – not one that she likes, anyway) asks me from where she's relaxing slightly further down the wall. She still doesn't trust me, and won't let us get too close. Strange cat. Most she-cats would kill for a chance to get closer to me. I guess I'll have to try harder to ensnare her. No she-cat has ever resisted me before and I like a challenge.
"Yeah?" I answer, looking up at her. The sun reflects off her fur causing it to shine and her eyes glimmer like pretty snowballs. Her beauty is nothing I've not seen before though.
"Have you always been a rogue?"
I laugh, causing her to loom confused. "No. Not always. What about you, have you always been a Clan cat?"
She nods. "Yes. But you've lived here for a long time, right?"
"I suppose," I meow lazily, basking in the last of the sun's warm rays.
"So you know every cat around here?"
I sit up slowly. "Is there any point to these questions?"
She blinks. "There's a grey tabby she-cat down there glaring at me," is her simple answer.
I glance down into the garden and heave a sigh. "Mauble."
"You don't sound too happy," she notes perceptively. She seems pretty smart, for a she-cat.
Mauble chooses this moment to butt in to our conversation. "Ginger! How good it is to see you after so long! Where have you been these past few moons?" she calls up silkily. "Won't you come down and greet me properly?"
I glance at my female companion, who gives me an amused look. "She's very pretty," she teases, flicking her tail.
"Shut up," I mutter at her before jumping off the wall and landing neatly on my paws. She follows me, landing with a grace I hadn't even suspected she had.
"Mauble," is all I can say before said she-cat throws herself at me, purring.
"I missed you, Ginger," she mews loudly in my ear. I glance subtly at my latest female companion to see her silently laughing. I glower at her. I will not let myself become a source of amusement.
"Whatever, Mauble," I say casually, shoving her away. "I'm busy right now, showing my companion here the territory."
"Wh-what?" Her plain grey eyes become pools of unhappiness. "But what about me? And your kittens? You can't abandon them again!" she wails desperately.
"Get a grip, Mauble. We. Are. Over. You just weren't right for me," I say harshly.
"How... how could you just ditch me for her?" Mauble's voice filled with meaningless, shocked despair.
"She's prettier than you," I shrug. "Anyway, I'll see you later. Might even drop in on the kittens," I say, bored. Like that's ever going to happen.
"We'll see about that," Mauble hisses, directing her vengeful glare towards my female companion. "Bet you won't find her so pretty with her face ripped off!"
I glance at my companion, surprised to see rage in her eyes. "Just because a cat's face is disfigured, it doesn't mean she isn't beautiful!" she hisses. Hmm... Mauble's comment means something personal to her, and somehow I don't think it's just because she's worried about her face.
I sit down just as Mauble springs at my female companion and begin to wash my paw. Mauble is a kittypet but she has a temper and, though her moves are undefined and often clumsy, and not in the least anything for a seasoned fighter to worry about, her raw rage lends her power and she can potentially be dangerous.
But my female companion dodges Mauble easily, whipping around fast and sinking her claws into Mauble's pelt. This is going to be interesting.
Author's Note: Yeah, Rouge's a jerk.
Constructive criticism is always welcome!
Thanks for reading,
~ Jay
