Running from Blood
Well, at least my belly is full,thought Finch shaking the morning dew out of his pelt and casting a glance at the bones of the vole he had caught last night. Finch couldn't help but notice the way his breath turned to fog in the chilly leaffall air.
The night had been a long and restless one for the young loner. With hunting taking up more time than he would have liked, searching for shelter taking up even more, and thoughts of what he had seen, or thought he had seen, eating up the rest, Finch finally fell into an uneasy sleep just as the moon was beginning to fall. But even this was disturbed by dreamed of reenactments of his encounter in the underground cavern with Rock. Now, after having woken up at about sunhigh and stretched his mussels with a quick hunt, he settled down in a sunny clearing to plot his next move.
This is not a place for the living to dwell. Rock's words rattled back and forth in Finch's head as he took a bite out of the mouse he caught. "Living," he mewed to himself. What other types of cat are there?
He was still very hesitant to suddenly just accept the existence of spirits. Still, he had to admit to himself that for once, his stubbornness had not got the better of him and pushed him back into the cavern after his hunt. Spirt or not, there was certainly something about the mysterious cave dweller that Finch couldn't explain. Shaking his head in frustration, Finch cleared the doubts from his head. Spirits or no spirits, I'm not being scared out of my new home so easily.
Finishing the rest of his mouse in a few rapid bites, Finch sat up and gave his paws a quick wash. His pelt warmed by the sun and his belly now pleasantly full, he found his old resolve. I going to see if I can find the spot where the cavern opens up on the surface. Opening his mouth now, Finch let the scents of the land wash over him. Various prey scuffling about in the undergrowth, the trace of a storm brewing in the distance, but no hint of the damp stones that would have given away the cavern and its dark river. Flattening his ears in frustration, Finch closed his eyes and tried to think of how else he could find the opening.
A moment passed by in silence. The half bare branches overhead clattered in the wind. I've got to find a proper home before leafbare sets in. Then, as if his head had only needed such a stray thought to reorganize itself, an idea popped into Finch's head.
Leaping excitedly onto his paws, Finch made his way quickly to the tunnel entrance he used the day before. Reaching it in no time, he took a few paces in and took note which way the tunnel headed. Remembering his foray into it last night, he recalled that this particular tunnel didn't curve much or have any sharp turns. With this in his head, Finch backed out of the tunnel, careful not to change the direction he was facing. Back fully above the ground now, he began padding in as straight a line as he could through the forest. If I don't find the cavern, I can at least find another tunnel to follow.
Padding stealthily through the trees, Finch stopped every so often to check for the scent of stones and water that would lead him to his goal. I'm running out of time, he thought, gazing up at the sun that was getting closer and closer to the tree tops.. Nevertheless, he pushed forward desperately hoping to find at least another tunnel before sundown.
The shadows were beginning to grow long and creep through the forest when Finch finally found the scent he was hunting for. Raising his tail in excitement, he quickly found himself approaching a large, dead, seemingly ancient, juniper tree. As he closed in on it, Finch noticed that the base of the tree was surround entirely by a thick tangle of bramble. "Fox dung" he spat, coming to a stop in front of the wall. If I crawl through that I'll be picking thorns out of my fur for moons.
Reassured by the scent of damp stone on the air though, Finch clawed his way into the bracken without further hesitation. Grunting with the effort of fighting the thick tendrils, Finch found himself panting with exhaustion by the time he finally pulled his tail out of the other end of the thicket. His fur ruffled and heavy with thorns but still optimistic, Finch began searching franticly amongst the roots and around the base of the tree for what he was certain would be the tunnel he was looking for.
Finch circled the tree several times, and stuck his muzzle under every root that snaked across the ground, but found only frustration as there was no tunnels or opening of any kind to be found. Straining his senses yet again, Finch was baffled, now more than ever, he could smell the scent of the underground world, he even thought he heard the dim trickle of the subterranean river. I don't get it, the opening must to be here.
After one more trip around the old tree, Finch reluctantly dragged himself back through the dense brambles. On the outside again, Finch sat down in in a storm of anger and confusion. After several minutes spent clawing at the grass, he grudgingly decided to cut his losses and find food and shelter for the night. Noticing how rapidly the forest was darkening, Finch decided quickly to spend the night in between the roots of the old juniper. There is a hole through the briars now, he thought bitterly.
A flash of movement caught the corner of his eye, turning to track it, he spotted a mouse nibbling on a seed just outside the edge of a bush. It was seemingly oblivious to Finch's presence. At least the prey is making it easy today. Dropping to a crouch, Finch pulled himself slowly forward, careful to keep his tail from disturbing the leaf litter. Just one more step. He pounced. Claws outstretched, they sank into the mouse with ease, pinning it. Bending down to dispatch the trapped animal with a quick bite to the neck, Finch was taken completely off guard as he was thrown heavily to his side by the weight of another creature hitting him in the side. Startled and a little dazed, Finch managed to scramble back onto his paws and in blind fury leap at his attacker. Landing squarely on his mark, it became clear to Finch that his aggressor was another cat. Good, at least it's not a badger or a fox. Raking his hind claws down the back of the other cat, he felt confident he could make quick work of his foe. Distracted by thoughts of victory, Finch was surprised when, with shocking speed, his enemy dropped to its belly and rolled over, sending Finch sprawling once more onto his side. Before he could find his paws again he felt the slice of claws across his muzzle. Blood immediately welling up and dripping onto the ground below. Enraged by his new injury, Finch let out a yowl of utter rage and leaped back at the cat. Sailing high through the air, Finch felt confident he could push the cat to the ground with the sheer force of the impact. He was surprised however, when upon landing on the foe, it rolled out of the way and kicked its hind legs out in a powerful kick. Thinking faster than he ever thought he could, Finch countered with a kick mirroring that of the attacker. This sent both cats flying away from each other leaving both struggling to find their breath as they got back up.
After what felt like a lifetime, both cats found each other glaring at each other, tails lashing back and forth. For the first time Finch could finally study his opponent. It was a she-cat, her pelt was a silvery white streaked with slight stripes of a darker grey. Staring directly into her piercing blue eyes, he expected her to launch herself back at him. He didn't know what to do though when then the aggression in her eyes seemed to vanish and was replaced by something else. Is that, laughter?
Purring loudly and shaking visibly now with laughter, the she-cat looked like she could barely stand on her paws. "I never thought that a thorn bush could ever fight back like that." She managed to choke out between her gasp for air.
"What!" Finch shot back in indignation.
"Your pelt, your more plant than cat." She meowed back, still struggling to bring herself under control.
Hot with embarrassment, Finch remembered the thorns that must be clinging to his pelt from his trip through the brambles. She must think I'm a kit who can't groom myself. At a loss for a decent defense for himself, Finch ignored the she-cat's mocking and retorted angrily. "Why did you attack me, that mouse was mine!"
Having regained a bit of her composure, the she cat responded casually as she began to clean the wounds on her back. "Coincidence, we both jumped at the same time." She finished with a flick of her tail.
Finch didn't know if he believed her excuse or not. Seeing that she wasn't hostile anymore though, he decided to just let it go. After all, what's done is done, he thought. "Well which one of us gets it"? Finch pressed on, jerking his head towards the spot where the body of the mouse still lay.
"You keep it, you gave the killing bite." The she cat replied turning back from tending to the wounds on her back. "Tell you what though, that scratch on your muzzle looks pretty deep. If you want, I know some herbs that grow around here that can help you, I'll trade you your mouse for them."
Only now did Finch remember the scratch on his muzzle. He ran a paw quickly over the wound. It is pretty bad, he thought as he looked at his now blood soaked paw. Knowing how mousebrained it would be to just leave the injury unchecked, Finch found his paws tied. I don't know the first thing about herbs, and I really can't afford an infection this close to leafbare. The thought dragging Finch back to the time he had seen one of the rouges in his old group die from an infection, amoung other things, that could have been prevented if the leafbare snows hadn't killed all of the herbs. "Fine, just eat quick, I've got other things I need to do."
At this the she-cat padded over to the mouse and began eating it in clean rapid bites, leaving Finch to clean the blood off his paw and pull some of the thorns out of his fur. The she-cat finished quickly, gave her own paws a quick washing, and headed back to where Finch sat. Moving swiftly, "come on," she called back behind her, using her tail to flick Finch's ear as she passed. Pushing his annoyance aside, Finch followed close behind.
The moon was climbing rapidly into the sky now. Great, another late night, Finch thought irritably as the two cats walked at a quick pace through the shadows of the forest. "So, what's your name"? The she-cat's voice broke into his thoughts.
"Who wants to know"? Finch shot back, instinctively defensive.
"Hmm... I see it's not just the thorns in your pelt that make you so prickly. I'm Moon." The she-cat replied with an air of amusement in her mew.
Finch still didn't trust this cat any more than he could change the seasons, but he couldn't find any reason not to give his name. "My name's Finch."
"Perhaps that explains why you look so bird brained," Moon meowed back still not breaking her stride or turning her head.
"And maybe your name explains why you're so hapless," Finch replied, feeling the first faint flicker of amusement he had in moons.
At this Moon whirled around. "Who are you calling hapless"? Her voice almost cracking with indignation. "If it weren't for you looking like a holly bush, I'd have clawed you into next Greenleaf"!
Pleased to finally have the upper paw for the first time since the two of them met, Finch replied with a smirk. "That's exactly what makes you so hapless, you left yourself vulnerable to attack just because you found something funny."
"Well, I'm not as hapless as the cat who can't smell when another cat is stalking their prey," meowed Moon challengingly.
"I'll flatten you with one paw." Finch retorted with a low growl.
The two cats glared at each other for a seemingly endless minute. Only the shriek of a nearby owl brought them back to their senses with a start.
"We should be moving, it's getting late. Come on, we're almost there." Moon turned away with an irritated flick of her tail.
Night had completely set in by the time Finch and Moon came to a stop in front of a plant growing at the base of a small oak tree. The large leaves of the plant swayed in the night breeze.
"This is dock." meowed Moon through clenched teeth as she chewed one of the leaves off of the plant and then chewed it into a pulp. "It grows almost everywhere there are trees, I'd try to remember it if I were you."
Finch couldn't tell if that was supposed to be a threat. Taking note of its tangy smell and broad leaves, Finch committed the plant to memory. "Ah, that stings!" he hissed, wincing as Moon, without warning, began lapping the chewed up plant into the cut on his muzzle.
Finishing, Moon took a step back, "yeah, that's another way to tell it from other herbs."
"Thanks," Finch grumbled, his muzzle still stinging from the herb.
An awkward silence fell over the pair. The seconds seemed to drag on like the sun across the sky on a Greenleaf day. "Well, thanks anyway." Finch finally broke the tension. Giving Moon a final nod farewell he turned and began to pad away.
"Wait." he heard Moon call behind him. "You said you had other things you needed to do. What was it? As far as I know, there isn't anything to do around here but survive"?
Finch quickly tried to think of a lie to tell her, but for some reason he just couldn't think of one. I've got to start finding more food, I can't think straight. Sighing, he decided to tell her at least half the truth, he'd leave out the part about Rock. "If you must know, I'm trying to get into the underground tunnels. I tracked the smell of an entrance to the base of that dead juniper, and was looking for the way in." To his surprise, Moon didn't ask him why he wanted into the tunnels. "But there was nothing there, so I guess I'll just forget the whole thing." Finch finished with a quick lie.
The usual gleam of amusement seemed to return to the silver she-cat's now moonlit eyes. "Your not a very good liar you know, but that aside, your right abought the juniper being a way into the tunnels."
Finch's ears pricked up at this. "What do you know"?
"Didn't you notice? That juniper is hollow." meowed Moon.
The realization struck Finch immediately. There must be a tunnel in the tree! Whirling around in a hurry, he began heading back to the old tree. To his annoyance though, he found Moon pacing by him step for step just a heartbeat later. "I'm coming with you." She declared.
"Why"? Finch threw her an exasperated look.
"I don't have anything else to do, I may as well explore some tunnels with my new friend."
Wonderful, now I have a friend, thought Finch turning back to face the path. Ughh.
A/N : There's chapter 2, much better than the first I think, but please, don't leave me wondering, read review. Also, just in case this is actually necessary, (though I would imagine the fact that this is posted on a fanfiction site would make it self-evident) I do not own any thing that I don't obviously own.
