CHAPTER TWO: THE MUTE
The melodic song of birds drifted through the thick canopy of leaves that sheltered the Apprentices Den, gently prodding him awake and out of his dreams. There was a bitter, tangy taste lingering in his maw. He scraped his tongue a couple of times around his mouth to try and rid the taste. A pool of light flashed across his eye, making him shrink back. Already morning? A quick assessment of the gathered nests told him that Opalpaw, and his brother, had already left.
Ghostpaw got up and padded quickly out of the den. He would get a good scolding from Pinesweep if he was caught lingering behind. Just then, he heard the quickly approaching sound of paws and flicked an ear, glancing into the blaring brightness as his eyes adjusted to the sun.
"Ghostpaw!" called a soft, melodic voice.
A lithe tan she-cat with bright, swirling sapphire eyes came bounding over. He paused to wait for the younger warrior to reach him. She was actually Opalpaw's older sister by a pawful of moons, with the same build and the same Siamese hues and complexion. Other than being Denmates with her sister, he'd never actually talked with her. He wondered why she wanted to talk with him.
"Morning, Lightpool," he greeted her tentatively. His pelt quivered slightly with a minuscule sense of concern. Why hadn't Pinesweep woken him up? It was nearly Sunhigh. Where was he? He swallowed the lump in his throat. Was he really that upset with him after last night? He didn't mean to gossip; he had just wanted to discuss things with his friend.
"Just the cat I was looking for," the energetic she-cat chided with a giddy grin. She came to a stop and flicked her ear. "Pinesweep asked me to come and get you. Apparently we're going on a patrol together."
"Why didn't Pinesweep come and get me himself?" Ghostpaw asked with a confused tone to his voice. He glanced towards the Warriors Den, expecting to see the tom pad out at any second. But when he didn't appear, he glanced back and hopped from paw to paw. "Is he okay?"
"I dunno'. He told me this morning, and decided to let you sleep in. I guess you can ask him yourself, when he gets here," she responded, sitting down with a flick of her brown colored tail. "He did go to bed late last night, if I remember correctly."
He only nodded in silent agreement, remembering the gathering with a sour expression. It hadn't gone that well, if he recalled correctly. And he had been called to talk with the Leader, too. With a start, he remembered his mentor had told him training would be later anyways. Letting himself rest a little easier, he was only left to wonder what had exactly happened last night. Especially to make Pinesweep so uncomfortable.
Finally, the familiar brown tabby tom brushed past the undergrowth of the camp entrance. He peered around once with weary amber eyes, before the lay rest on himself and Lightpool. He looked tired, and worried. But as soon as he had found any trace of exhaustion, it was replaced with a warm smile. Pinesweep padded quietly over and nodded respectfully to the warrior, before flicking an ear at Ghostpaw and giving a small chuckle.
"Hope I didn't keep you two waiting too long. I had to check the borders with Palestorm and Opalpaw," he greeted. Ghostpaw glanced almost instinctively behind the tom for the familiar cream colored she-cat. But the entrance didn't shiver as it usually did when cats passed through. She was probably training with Palestorm now. Feeling a twinge of disappointment, he turned to Pinesweep just as he was explaining that they were strictly hunting today.
"ThunderClan might be threatening us now, but so far the borders have been peaceful. We need to focus, for now, on prey and herbs. In case they do plan to attack. We can only prepare," he said grimly. Ghostpaw shivered nervously. It would be his first battle; but he didn't long for it like his brother usually did. All Crimsonpaw ever talked about was fighting.
"Does this mean... we're going to be learning fighting moves more often?" Ghostpaw asked tentatively. He didn't mind training, and though he preferred his other lessons, he knew it was probably for the best that they focused on battle tactics. He needed to know how to defend himself and his Clanmates, after all.
The tabby tom seemed to read his mind. "Sadly, yes, Ghostpaw, that does mean we're going to prioritize battle training."
He watched as the tom wearily stood to his paws and flick his head towards the camp entrance. "Lets get going then. The sooner we catch some prey, the sooner we can return to camp and relax for a bit," he ordered, turning to head towards the camp entrance. Ghostpaw stood and followed after him, with Lightpool matching his pace easily. He wondered if he would ever be as energetic as she appeared to be.
She glanced over just them, making him start and avert his eyes nervously. He heard a laugh before she nudged his shoulder playfully. "Don't worry, I won't bite. I know Opalpaw probably tells horror stories about me; but I swear that it wasn't my fault she ate that mouse! Any cat would have fallen prey to it. How was I supposed to know it was bad?"
He smiled, feeling a bit of amusement. "From what I hear, you'd caught it and purposely made her eat it. Though I don't really see how you would have been able to catch it and tell if it was bad," he said lightly. He was rewarded with a laugh as they padded out and into the forest. The grass here was springy, filled with the surrounded water that enclosed their island-like Camp. Pinesweep was already wading through the water, pushing past reeds and cattails as he appeared on the opposite bank.
Ghostpaw followed suite. He was already so tall now, even at six moons, that he was close to being as tall as any other Warrior. It ran in the family, he supposed. Nevertheless, he was glad for it as he didn't have to try to keep his head above water. Instead, it only lapped comfortably at his chest, soaking his stark white pelt and clingy at it. When he sloshed back beside Pinesweep, he turned and watched as Lightpool began to trod to the left.
"I'll head towards the field," she called over her shoulder. "See if I can find any water voles scuttling around!"
With a nod, he watched as she peeled away before turning to his mentor. Usually he would dictate where hunting would take place; but now his gaze held a measured and even look. He was staring curiously, as if waiting for something. With a start, he realized he was waiting for him to make a decision. With a nervous blink, he examined the terrain around them, before nodding confidently.
"I'll go hunt by the stepping stones. The river has gotten swollen with the recent rainfall. It should be flush enough with new life and fish; plus it'll be easier to hunt on the actual stones," Ghostpaw said, hoping that he had made the right call. A small rush of relief told him he was right as Pinesweep nodded to him.
"Good thinking, Ghostpaw. I'll be hunting down river, by the crossing bridge. If you need any help, don't hesitate to call. A border patrol should be out, so help will be just around the corner. In case ThunderClan gets any ideas, y'know?" he said with a flick of his tail. "Don't come back until you've caught at least one fish. But if you do before sunset, then catch as many as you can."
He nodded, his eyes alight with determination. This should be easy. He was going to hunt in a rich area, and it was Green-Leaf. Catching one, let alone more would be easy. He watched as Pinesweep whisked away, swallowed by cerulean greenery and bright sunlight. With that, the large white apprentice turned instead to head towards the sound of the gushing river. When he located the stones, it was easy enough to place where the cluster of rocks barley poked out about the surface. As he predicted, the water was rushing at full speed.
Nothing a RiverClan cat couldn't handle. He rushed forward, eyes twinkling with excitement. When his paws met the cool mud of the riverside, he carefully stepped into the cool surface. It ripped at his touch, water burbling around where his paws had protruded. Wading in further, he found his foothold against the stone and pulled himself up and out onto its warm surface. Just enough room for him to balance.
He crouched low, his eyes watching the depths below for any sign of movement. The fish usually swam upriver. So, most of them would get caught here with the current so strong. It was like plucking leaves off of a tree — easy. Finally the shimmer of silver scales caught the sunlight, pulling his attention down. He wriggled his haunches excitedly. Remembering what he was taught, he waited with a still stance, before his paw flashed out with lightning speed.
The sun was well across the sky by the time he had caught at least three fish. His paws ached from sitting against the hard stone all afternoon, and his body felt stiff when he stood and stretched out his long body. Turning, he crouched and launched from his perch and safely onto the bank below. His three fish sat comfortably against the bank, covered by pebbles to keep predators from finding them. He turned to scrape the stones away, but before he could, a trickle of water caught his eyes.
Or, more specifically, the color of the water caught his eyes. He recoiled with shock, his breath sucking in as he watched rivulets of red streak the crystalline surface. Like ribbons caught in the wind, it spread and gushed past the rocks. Rushing forward, the white tom huddled close to the water and watched as the red oozed onward, dispersing into the water and tinting it a sickening clear crimson. Shakily, Ghostpaw called out as loudly as he could for Pinesweep, before turning and running in the direction the color was coming from.
There was no mistaking it. The clear water had been tainted with blood — and a lot of it, at that. His concern bubbled in his chest as he dove on, heart racing. He hoped it wasn't anything to worry over. But the sharp tang of blood was now heavy in the air. And, more worryingly, the fear scent of a feline. He called out again, hoping his voice was heard. "Help, help!"
His stomach plunged sickeningly as he spotted a limp body ahead of him. He hoped to StarClan it wasn't anyone he knew. He couldn't tell; blood covered the cat from its muzzle, all the way to where its body hung half out of the water. But what made him inhale sharply was that it was still breathing.
He came to a skidding halt next to the cat. It was gasping feebly, its eyes staring distantly at the stretch of trees on the other side of the forest. His chest constricted with fear. What had done this? But he wasn't given any time to think as a sickening sound pooled from its maw. It was staring at him now, its eyes stretched wide. It gurgled at him, as if crying out. Thick bubbles of crimson slipped past and colored the stones with red, making him shrink back and cry out in shock.
It cried again. Staring around wildly, he remembered watching Acorntremble one time, when he had caught Whitecough. A cat had gotten hurt badly, and he remembered that the Medicine Cat had first needed to stop the bleeding. Darting away, he searched desperately for anything. Thick moss lined the side of a tree. He scraped at it hurriedly, grabbing clumps and carrying as much as he could. "H-hold on," he gasped, crouching down against the stones. Blood made him slip as he got closer, but he ignored it. He instead imagined it was like the mud on the floor of the river.
His bearings back, he lifted a paw and shakily searched the cats pelt. There was a long gash along its flank, the cause of most of the bleeding. "I'm going to try and stop the bleeding — just hold on," he said in a hushing voice, shaking as he pressed the wads of moss against its flank. It seemed to work, as it stopped the gush and was successfully being soaked by the moss. Relief made him shiver as he examined them. "Who are you? What happened?"
Again, a gurgle of nonsense passed its maw, making Ghostpaw glance back down with concern. That's when he saw it. He let out a cry of horror, forcing himself to look away. "Oh, StarClan," he gasped. The feline's tongue had been removed, causing blood to coat the pebbles. He didn't know what to do about that. What could he do? Shakily, he fixed his gaze on the cats own horrified one and shook his head. "I-I don't know how to help you."
The cat seemed to cry, a sob wracking through its chest in a rush of air. He fought the urge to do so himself and quickly tried to scrape together a plan. He couldn't leave this cat here. He didn't even know who this cat was. The blood stench was so strong, it masked everything. And its pelt was matted with so much blood, he could barley tell what color it was.
Thankfully, the sound of paws rushing against stones made his head whip around. He saw a patrol of cats rushing forward. His body shook with relief. "Please, h-help! I don't know what happened," he cried out. He could see the familiar pelts of Palestorm, and Opalpaw. Moonsliver and Stripedwillow accompanied them — all of them holding equally mortified gazes.
"There's... so much blood," cried out Moonsliver, halting just before where the blood soaked the ground around him. He Knew his own pelt was sticky with the thick fluid. She seemed to not want to share in his sentiment. He couldn't blame here; it was beginning to make his stomach churn with nausea.
"Opalpaw, run back to camp and get Acorntremble. Tell him we need his help, and tell him its really bad. If we move this cat, they might die," Palestorm ordered with a calm expression on his face. He was much more sure of himself, more so than Ghostpaw had been. With a nod, Opalpaw glanced at him worriedly, before darting away into the shrubbery. When she had disappeared, he turned back to the gathered cats and fixed his gaze on the other Warriors.
"Stop the bleeding as much as you can, and try to clean the blood from their fur. I have no... no idea who this cat even is," he said nervously. Ghostpaw had shared the toms worry earlier, so he understood why he was so nervous. "It could be one of our Clanmates."
"What if it isn't? Will we still help them...?" Stripedwillow asked hesitantly.
He was received with a glare from Palestorm, the tom's pelt bristling as he said, "Of course we will! I'm not heartless enough to leave a cat to bleed to death."
Upon being scolded, the tom nudged Ghostpaw aside and began to hold the moss against the cats wound, his paws steady as the blood began to lessen. Moonsliver was already soaking moss in water, dragging it along the cats flank to try and remove the caked blood. Thankfully, it was warm enough out that hypothermia wouldn't be a problem.
When he was satisfied that the two were successfully at work, he turned to Ghostpaw and surveyed him with concern. "Are you hurt, Ghostpaw? Can you tell me exactly what happened when you found them?" he asked carefully, his eyes never leaving the cats face. Ghostpaw was focused on their pelt, which was finally beginning to scrub free of blood.
Inhaling carefully, he recounted everything that had happened up to finding the cat. When he was done, he received a sigh and a nod of respect. "You did better than any apprentice without medical training would have," he said carefully, his gaze soft. "Can you do me a couple more favors? Go find some more moss, and if you can, some cobweb?"
He nodded, padding tiredly away from the three cats and towards the undergrowth. His stomach churned as he watched the cat once more, before he disappeared to find the supplies. When he came back, he had wads of moss tucked under his chin, and swaths of cobweb wrapped around a stick held securely in his mouth. He set it against the stones, which were now slick with water and blood. The cats now soaked pelt was a silky, gray color. And this time he could distinctly tell they were a molly. Nobody in his Clan, thankfully.
"We don't know who she is... she can't..." Palestorm trailed off at Ghostpaw's arrival, his eyes flashing with sorrow. He nodded, letting the tom know he knew what he meant. She would forever be silent, if they managed to save her life. "Nonetheless, Opalpaw should be back soon with Acorntremble."
He sat against the stones, shivering against the breeze as night began to show its presence. Twinkling stars now lined the dusky colored sky, the light quickly fading from the day. His body felt weary; tired and aching. Finally, the restless felines watched as the familiar auburn pelt of their Medicine Cat came rushing through the greenery, both him and Opalpaw carrying plenty of herbs.
He only listened numbly as they recounted what had happened with one another, Opalpaw listening as she locked eyes with Ghostpaw. When they had finished, she made her way over and sat down next to him, pressing her pelt against his own. He was glad for the comfort — because despite the warm air, he had been shivering almost the entire time. His bright yellow eyes watched as the older cats huddled around the wounded she-cat, working to try and help her cling to life.
It seemed like eons before they all peeled away from her, all of them looking weary. He searched their expressions, to see if they looked sad or relieved. Finally, Acorntremble nodded towards the two apprentices sitting close together, his voice sounding resigned. "We'll need your help to carry her — carefully — back to camp. She'll be fine, but we can't leave her out here like this."
He nodded, padding over and waiting as the gathered cats all huddled around to hold her on their backs. He held up half of the weight on her haunches, before they all silently moved towards home. The travel was quiet — a breath of fear held in understanding among them. Whatever had attacked the she-cat, it had done so with merciless and murderous intent.
And what was worse, was that the markings were thin enough that they were probably caused by another cat.
