Disclaimer: Warriors by Erin Hunter
Hey, thanks to all my patient reviewers: xxSnowfirexx, xXLepardusXx, VioletteRose, Anidori-Isilee, Oo-Rainpath-oO, Moonriver of AirClan, and Sharron58
Thanks to you silent readers.
All questions will be revealed in coming chapters.
I got bored with not writing, especially during school break. So here you go. . .
Chapter 3
The rising sun didn't waken the six cats. They were still deep asleep as the sun appeared over the horizon, unseen through the trees. The air became a rosy pink hue. The birds starting whistling and singing to each other, flapping through the air. That didn't wake the cats either. What did, were the scraps of claws on bark and the calls of cats in the trees.
Duststripe was the first awake. His eyes opened and he took in the gloomy black trees above, vines trailing down to the swamp. Frogs burbled to each other and even a few ducks quacked in the distance. At first he thought that's what awakened him and was starting to stretch and lick his fur clean when he heard the whispers.
"Can you still smell them?" the whispery voice demanded shrilly.
"Of course," the tom snapped back just as breathy. "Now shut your mouth."
Duststripe's fur rose as he stood up. His tail brushed his companions' pelts. They instantly woke up as well. At first they looked confused but at Duststripe waving his tail in front of his mouth for silence, they realized something was wrong. Their ears strained for what he'd heard as they got prepared to flee.
In the distance a cat yowled in fright. Fear scent quickly permeated the island. Duststripe almost sneezed. But he had a feeling it was his own fear scent combined with the others. It probably wasn't for the same reasons either. He'd feared that the cat who'd cried out had fallen into the bog and sucked under the muddy water. It reminded him of his sister and that scared him deeply, paining his heart.
"Come," Petal whispered. "We have to leave. We have to leave the territory."
"How did they find us?" Lightberry asked harshly, just as quiet.
"Smell," Duststripe breathed out. "Our scents."
Their eyes widened. Duststripe wondered whose scent they'd found. His and Waterdrop's? Cloverleaf's? Or had it been Petal's?
A growl above them made their hearts jump. Duststripe looked up into the crossing branches to see three cats glaring down at them. Two toms and a she-cat. Their claws slid out as they hunched above like hawks. Their eyes glittered with malice and pleasure all at the same time. They'd found the ones they were hunting and now they could do as they'd been commanded.
"They're here!" yowled the shrill voice of the silver-gray she-cat at the top of her lungs, calling to the other cats in the bog.
"Hurry!" Petal shouted her eyes wide.
She took to the trees on the opposite side of the island. Lightberry scrambled up after her, Waterdrop close behind. The tom bounded faster than the two she-cats and took the lead. Petal let him since he knew the way out of the bog.
Cloverleaf spat at the rogues, her fur bristling, determined to fight and not run or else helping the others escape. Duststripe grabbed his son's scruff and hurried over to the escape branches. The rogues tried to cut them off, leaping over the gaps of the trees like squirrels. One white tom landed on the island facing Cloverleaf. She took a swipe at him, clawing open his nose, blood flew across his face, spattering it red. He shrieked and bowled her over.
Duststripe wanted to stay and help the dappled she-cat but he had to leap up into the branches. The two other rogues were closing the escape fast. Even Lightberry, Waterdrop, and Petal were disappearing into the distance. The branches swayed around them, knocking and snapping together. That wasn't the only direction the sound was coming from. From all directions, Duststripe was sure he could hear the same thing. The rogues were closing in.
Duststripe leaped up into the trees, his claws grasping, his back legs constantly shoving off. He could not stop to gain his balance though he longed too. The cats were almost in front of him. He pushed past them, toppling the silver-gray she-cat. She slipped, almost falling off of the branch. Her companion did not stop to help her. He hurried after Duststripe instead.
Duststripe was tiring already. His neck was aching with the weight of his son and his legs unused to the vertical, constant climb, his claws unused to the constant grasping and pulling. The black tom was on his heels, snapping with his long teeth. Duststripe's heart raced and he pushed himself forward only the branches and trees in his gaze. And then he missed a step. He misjudged a leap. His chest slammed into the branch meant for his paws.
Frog's body was the next to hit the branch as Duststripe fell. Duststripe's jaws ached as Frog tried to separate from him. The kit squeaked in pain as his father's teeth pierced skin. Duststripe and Frog slipped down, no longer secure on anything. They fell through the tree branches to the bog below. One branch hit Duststripe in his belly, knocking the air from the tom. He toppled forward, overbalanced by the son in his mouth.
His back legs saved him. He hung forward on the same branch, staring into the muddy ground below. He was balanced right where his legs met his body. He stared, breathing hard, hurting. Frog trembled in his father's hold and Duststripe tasted salty blood.
Above them, the branches quaked. The tom was coming down. He took his time too. It was like he was savoring his moment before the kill. Duststripe's legs started hurting. He wondered if it would be quicker to straighten them and just sink below the water. It seemed the rogue tom felt the same way. He stood beside Duststripe's back end. Duststripe could just see his black pelt out of the corner of his eyes. Then the tom placed his claws onto Duststripe. Duststripe flinched in surprise as the tom started pushing, trying to shove him off of the branch. That made Duststripe tense, trying to hold on all the harder.
No words at all were spoken as the tom pushed down, starting to pant. Duststripe wanted to protest, but Frog was still hanging in his mouth. The kit was even starting to struggle a bit, angered by what he'd been going through, or else he was writhing with the fever. Duststripe didn't know, but it was making his hold all the more harder both on son and branch.
And in the distance Duststripe heard the branches knocking together again. Some cat was coming. The tom only paused for a bit and then started pushing again, obviously thinking it was one of his companions. Duststripe feared it was as well. He was getting tired just sitting there and his head was starting to hurt with all the blood rushing to it. If another cat came, he would be in the water in no time. He'd be dead just like his sister.
The knocking branches came closer and then suddenly the sound was overhead. A loud shriek of rage almost made Duststripe drop his son in shock. The cat jumped down from the branches up above and sprang onto the black tom. The rogue was surprised but quickly recovered. Duststripe heard them fighting. He heard teeth clicking together in bites and claws hitting flesh. Soon then the tom fell down. His head hit a branch and he was knocked unconscious. He felt to the ground and Duststripe was surprised that when the rogue hit the ground, the water splashing around him, but didn't sink. The ground wasn't endless after all, Duststripe thought, suddenly relieved. Then the attacking cat came close.
Teeth grabbed his back and pulled. Duststripe winced in pain but didn't struggle as the cat pulled him up. He quickly tried to gain his feet on the branch. As soon as he was stable, he looked into the green eyes of Cloverleaf. She had claw marks on her face and blood was dripping down into her eyes. Her breath came out ragged. She was in pain and was exhausted from all the fighting.
"Come on," she meowed, her voice thin, "We've got to get out of this bog."
Duststripe nodded, his son swinging in his jaws, still again. He followed Cloverleaf upwards to more secure branches. At every step his sides ached. He just followed her hoping she knew where she was going. They didn't say anything as they walked.
It was sunhigh when they left the bog. The Tanglewood Bog's trees ended and marshland spread out. Duststripe stared at it. He'd never been this far from camp before. He gazed out on the wetland, wondering what would happen next. He and Cloverleaf had lost the others once more. They had no idea what they were doing and Sullen really was hunting them. He didn't want Petal getting away.
The sun shone off of the water of the marsh, the reeds waving in the wind. Herons and other strange birds hunted the fish in the deeper water. It was almost peaceful on the edge. He and Cloverleaf sat on a tree branch. It was curved over, one end disappearing into the water. He and Cloverleaf sat on it, under the sunhigh sun, resting.
"This way," Cloverleaf suddenly meowed, standing up.
"Where are you going?" Duststripe asked, having placed Frog down long before.
"When I went to find Petal and the others," she meowed, sitting down again, "They told me that if we got separated we were to meet at the forest's edge."
Duststripe's ears went up. Petal had known they'd be separated?
Cloverleaf noticed the look and continued.
"They felt that Sullen might come after us. The only safe place, Petal thought, would be out of the territory. Out of the forest. They don't know outside the forest, just like we don't, so we'd be safer. Now we have to find them. They'll be along the side."
"Then how do you know this is the right direction?" Duststripe asked, nodding to where she'd started.
"Waterdrop knows his way around here," Cloverleaf meowed. "He wouldn't take them to this marsh. The marsh continues that way, but not this." She nodded her head. "I think this is the best way."
Duststripe had to agree. He would follow her once more, trusting her judgement. Before they left, Duststripe insisted that they hunt. Cloverleaf nodded. He gave Frog to her and went fishing. He'd learned this from his mentor and even his father, Whitetoes. They knew the fishing skills, just like Cloverleaf knew the shadow blending skills. Each cat had a legacy of some sort, a skill from a long time ago. So Duststripe got them some fish.
He tried to get his son to eat, but Frog had once more gone back into his fever. He shouldn't have been moved at all this time and there was no more catmint. Duststripe knew, however, that he wouldn't leave his son for the Clan to pick up. He didn't trust the rogues at all. They didn't follow the code and so they didn't see the importance of keeping kits safe. Duststripe would keep his son. Now they needed to find Waterdrop once more.
During the break, Cloverleaf licked her wounds clean. Her worst wounds were on her rump. The white tom on the island had almost bitten through the base of her tail and it was seeping. Duststripe was scared she might lose her tail. He didn't say anything though. He did wonder how she'd escaped the icy white tom and the other rogues who'd come running when the she-cat with the shrill voice called. Cloverleaf offered no explanation.
After their meal, the two warriors started walking once more. Cloverleaf had a limp to her step, reminding Duststripe of Lightberry. He wondered if she'd recovered. Running through the tree branches that morning probably hadn't helped her twisted paw to heal. Would Lightberry always have a limp? he wondered.
They walked all day and the sun sank. Cloverleaf insisted they get some sleep. She curled up under a lonely bush just inside the forest edge. Duststripe wondered where they were in comparison to the camp. He hoped the rogues never found them hiding at the edge. He laid beside Cloverleaf, placing his son between them and then started sleeping. His dreams were filled with terror of always being chased and yet cats weren't always doing it. There were foxes, badgers, dogs, and even a tall creature with no fur but the small bit on its head. Needless to say when he woke up the next morning, he was still tired.
Cloverleaf was hard to rouse. When Duststripe did wake her up, he saw that she had a fever as well. He looked at her wounds and wasn't surprised to see them inflamed and infected. He sighed, but nudged her up. They had to keep going. They had to find Waterdrop. He was the most valuable cat to them right now.
Cloverleaf got up and leaned against Duststripe most of the morning. After sunhigh she was a bit more lucid but she let Duststripe lead. The marshland was far behind them and now Duststripe looked for his Clanmates. On the way he hunted. He wasn't used to hunting out of the trees and he didn't catch much, but it was enough to stop the growling in his belly.
The sun was starting to sink again when they came to a large cropping of rocks. The stones were tall and pointed straight up many jumbled and leaning against each other. Only one rock lay on its side. Duststripe decided this was a good place to rest. He led Cloverleaf there. On the side of the bumpy, leaning rock he saw the makings of a nest. The moss and bird feathers looked fresh. His heartbeat picked up. He placed Frog on the ground and breathed the scent of the nests in. The familiar, lovely smell of Lightberry filled his nose. His heart soared as he realized he'd found them once more. He and Cloverleaf were no longer alone.
"Here," Duststripe meowed, nudging Cloverleaf forward, her eyes cloudy. "Sleep here."
She lowered herself not seeming to care. He placed Frog by her side and then left them. He quickly bounded up one of the rocks. The land spread out around him. The forest in front of him, sinking sun behind him. He looked for any movement. Any familiar sight of a cat. There was nothing at all. No movement in the field anywhere. His heart sank. Surely they hadn't run off already? Had Sullen already made it here before Duststripe? He didn't want to believe it but it felt like he must. He heaved a sigh and got off of the rock, returning to Frog and Cloverleaf. They were already sleeping. He knew that they wouldn't be leaving tomorrow. They'd have to rest and hope that Petal and the others returned.
********
The morning came and with it the smell of freshkill. Duststripe's pink nose wiggled as the hot scent surrounded him. His eyes blinked open. The dead eyes of a vole stared back at him. He blinked at it, uncomprehending for a short time. Then he raised his head. No one was around. It was just him. He looked to the other nest and saw Cloverleaf and Frog still sleeping but they looked relaxed and a gob of cobwebs covered the dappled she-cats hind end.
Duststripe looked around again. He knew they were there. Waterdrop was the only one who could have taken care of Cloverleaf. He slowly got up, stretching his stiff muscles. Before he left to find them, he ate the vole, glad of whoever got it for him. He took off, wandering around the rocks, searching for his companions.
The breeze suddenly blew around him, brushing his fur. With it came the smell of Lightberry. He raised his head and scented for her. She was nearby. He ran around the rocks a few more times, still confused. He didn't see her at all. And then he heard the laughter. Whoever it was was trying to contain it and stay quiet. It sounded above him. He looked up and saw Lightberry's brown pelt sitting on a rock. She had her eyes closed with glee.
Duststripe smiled and scrambled up the rock to join her. She quickly made room for him.
"Where is everyone else?" he asked her.
"Petal thought it was safer if we didn't all group together. She and Waterdrop are somewhere else," Lightberry's tail flicked out to the field. "They're scouting. Waterdrop took care of your son and Cloverleaf."
"I saw," Duststripe meowed. "So you're standing guard?"
She nodded, now more solemn. "I can see for fox lengths up here. If there are any more cats, I can give the warning, and we run."
"Which direction?" Duststripe asked, determined not to be left behind again.
"The field," she meowed. "That is the only direction we can go. Wherever it leads us, we'll follow."
"They wouldn't follow us here would they?" Duststripe asked about the rogues.
Lightberry looked away and didn't answer.
Duststripe felt cold in his heart. He looked toward the forest that was once his home. It was Sullen's now and the tom seemed determined to get rid of them. Perhaps he was scared Petal would try to win back her Clan. Why else would he send the rogues after them? Duststripe didn't know, but he did know that if the rogue came again, it would mean Sullen really did want rid of them. Who knew when the tom would stop following them.
