Heeeeey! I'm baaaaaaack~!

I've finished with moping about my writing and am ready to complete this mother! XD College has started back up - rather disastrously so far but that's a story for another AN - and my classes are going well. I'm finding inspiration in everything lately - especially music - and I've got my plot more neatly organized. No more rushing. :D

artemis7337 - I've loved the name Dahlia since I heard it on America's Next Top Model. It was either gonna be that or Iris. XD Ooh, Sea World! I bet that was fun! I haven't been in almost a year. Well, more than that. Not since that last Shamu attack. D:

theDiabolical - Haha! Like my mom says, "If you go to sleep at four in the morning everyday, you're gonna turn into a weirdo." Or maybe she only means me. XD I'm so loved.

Queen of the Pens - Hee~ Well, you guys will. I already know who she is. ;)

Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Oh, I knew it was you. XD I'm glad that you're feeling better now. That's really a crappy thing to have to go through; I'm sorry. The best thing to do in those kinds of situations are to be honest to yourself and others and that's exactly what you did. I think that's really admirable. ^.^ And Twist and Declan have to have some kind of problems! If they were lovey-dovey all the time that would be boring!

XxJabberjayxX - Well, I read Twilight when it first came out - 2005, I think - and that was before the hype, which is really what I dislike the most. I just think that stories should be character-driven rather than romance-driven. Like, if you took the romance out of Twilight, there wouldn't really be a lot of plot left, you know? That being said I have to admit that I did like the first one and I go see the movies within a week of their release - if only for bile fascination. Also, they have really good music. XD I ADORE Harry Potter. I grew up with it. Those books are blessed gifts from above. JK Rowling is totally the most legit person ever. XD I don't generally read femslash but I must admit I have an inner yaoi fangirl. X3

Rapidfeather - In Florida we have Cuban tree frogs that are as big as your fist. One time, my dad went out the front door and one plopped down right on top of his bald head. It was HILARIOUS...for me. Not so much for him. XD

tufted titmouse - Reading does make better writing! That's what they tell me in school aaaaaaall the time. And you take style hints from books you read, too, so this one will be very...Nightshade-y. Which is actually a pretty good book so far. XD

Silvertail of shoreclan - My inner editor has been jabbering to me and wouldn't leave me alone. I had to give it a break so it would shut up. XD

LegendaryHero - Oh, no, it's not you. I really appreciate your concrit - truly, I do. I've been depressed lately and stressing over stuff and it was just making everything...blah. You know? I just needed some time away to focus on getting school started, hanging with friends, that kind of thing. I've known a few girls like Dahlia and I hate all of them - so I can use that hate very accurately now. XD Sidestep did have some pretty long gaps, didn't it? D: But this one will be much smoother. Promise. :D

Tangleflame - Hee~ Thank you. You're so nice to me~ -hugs-

Ravenshade - Yeah, I just needed it to breathe for a little bit. It'll be much easier now, I hope. Please feel free to point out if it's not! :D

Chill of Fading Evening - Hoo~ Pretty penname~ -jealous eyes- Hee~ I love Declan, too. I must admit - I'm writing a original story with a character identical in personality to Declan. I wanted to make sure people would love him before I got serious about publishing anything. XD And Outrider? Yup! I'm almost done with one of those chapters. I don't like writing that one as much because not as many people read it. That one's more for fun. Not to mention I just like to write about rock stars. XD

ponyiowa - Hee~ Thank you! And wait no longer, for here it is!

Sigh~ I've heard such beautiful music lately, guys. So here's an absolutely gorgeous one that I recommend to every single one of you: "Falling Slowly," by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova.

"Take her away; for she hath lived too long,

To fill the world with vicious qualities."

Henry VI, Act 5, Scene 4


Moon cycles passed. Night after night of a sleepless unease that filled the forest with a crackle of tension. No one went into the woods alone anymore—not since Jaybird's death. They were off-limits now, available only to those who went in groups or had a Slider warrior with them. They had to be protected at all costs. No one could be lost now. It would be unbearable.

Declan blinked awake in a cold den, a light coating of snow on his thick fur.

He shivered it off, rubbing his nose with his paw. It was cold. So cold. This season should have been over already. The warmth of the green-season should have wiped this freeze from the ground but still the snow and ice persisted, well into the woods, settling over Slider territory like a thick pelt.

Twist's spot was empty next to him, cold and bare. He sighed lightly. She must be angry with him. Her temper was too quick to flare now. He couldn't do anything to keep her peaceful now. She was restless and flighty, prone to withdrawing so deeply into herself that Declan sometimes felt she was an entirely different cat.

Despite her confirmation of her affections, he knew that Twist could hold fury simmering just out of view for awhile. It was one of the things he knew about her—and loved her in spite of it.

Not that she made it easy sometimes, he thought as he went about his daily business—today it was hunting with River and Gravel. As he slid through the forest like a shadow, his dark pelt blending in with the shade of the naked trees, he thought about all the times he'd felt safe with Twist. As far as he was concerned, she was his home. He didn't need to be anywhere else where she wasn't.

But sometimes, he wondered if she felt the same. What was the difference between loving someone and wanting to be with them all the time? She told him that she loved him—and he believed her—but did she really mean it? Did she love him in the same way he loved her? This all-consuming passion that burned the fear from his limbs, his brain, his heart? The one that made everything seem almost impossibly clear, each moment in her presence shining like a precious treasure.

But the doubt left a bitter taste in his mouth and he hated himself for it. He shouldn't be doing this—not to himself or to Twist. She was loyal to him. She loved him. He knew it.

But…

No. That's enough. He focused himself on hunting, on that easy slide into a crouch, the soft strain of muscles and steady bones and trembling whiskers. His paws ghosted across the ground, soundless like slowly falling snow, pressing into the ground, coasting him forward.

The smell hit him first, a dark musky scent. Mouse.

Declan didn't used to be a good hunter. In his pet days, living together with Leo, he had sometimes chased after dragonflies or lizards but he had never caught anything. Only once he'd gone out by himself—after Leo's death—had he ever taught himself.

Leo. That fat tom still lurked in the back of Declan's mind, listening, waiting. Judging. He could always feel him, like a shadow pressing in on him, hanging over his head, waiting to strike. It wouldn't be long before Declan had to face him, to destroy what was left of Leo in his brain, or break himself trying.

The mouse was on its hind paws, nibbling a seed. It was turned away from him. It didn't even know he was there until it was in his paws and his teeth were in its neck and by then it was far too late.

The body was surprisingly small.

Declan could only look at it for a moment. A neat, small mark on the back of its neck and a bit of blood. That was it. Other than that, it could be asleep. It was curled on its side, its little tail tucked up under its neck.

Just like Twist slept.

The image of her dead jolted in front of his open eyes like a flash of lightning.

Declan recoiled at once, away from the body—now a mouse again—feeling sick. He was going to be sick. He stumbled blindly, a solid wall of white noise filling his ears. He didn't even notice the bushes close in around him until their branches stabbed at his flanks, ripping his fur, making him bleed.

He tripped over something and he fell to his side, hitting the cold ground. It felt like metal beneath his shivering pelt. His teeth rattled together, clicking audibly.

He hadn't had such a strong vision before. It was as if it really was Twist there, coiled motionless in the wet dirt. It burns behind his closed eyes as if rimmed with fire.

You are mine, the voice whispered in the back of his mind, snakelike.

No, he told it, keeping it back, keeping it at bay.

It was getting harder to hide himself from Twist. She suspected him, worried for him, but she wouldn't say anything. Not to his face. She wouldn't find anyone else to confide in, either. She would keep her thoughts to herself, swirling like smoke in her head.

Enough, he told himself. No more smoke, no more fire. Nothing. Even as the smell burned in his mouth, melting onto his tongue. The fire would never quite be quenched.

Ever since his smoke-treatment, the visions had been getting stronger, intensifying despite his desire to quit them entirely. It was a constant horror, stalking his pawsteps, creeping into his dreams and twisting his mind to their bidding. He had awoken yesterday night in the trees again.

So even now when he was seeking shelter from the Warren, from their stares, which to his mind seemed suspicious, he wasn't safe. He'd never be safe again. Not until he had forced back this sickness that Braiser had infected him with.

The image of the tom's mangled body flashed in front of his eyes, just as vividly as Twist's had. They had the same eyes, the exact same shade of burning yellow. The yellow that cut through the smoke of his dreams, whispering voices curling deep into his ear fur. The yellow that haunted him. He saw it everywhere and hated himself for it. He hated the chill of fear that coursed down his spine whenever Twist looked at him in anger. It was as if he was looking into Braiser's eyes again.

Declan scooped up the mouse, making sure not to look too hard at it, and headed back to where Gravel and River had set up their collection for prey. Already, the shallow grass-lined pit contained two blackbirds and a finch, and as Declan rolled the mouse into the pile, River came up heaving a fat rabbit. Its fur was thick and white, matting up where River's teeth gripped its scruff.

River dropped it with a huff, landing on his haunches. "How's that for a kill?" he said proudly, pushing the rabbit with one paw. It rolled limply, sickeningly. Declan looked away.

Gravel joined them shortly, empty-pawed, and they headed back to the Warren. Declan took the rabbit—he could barely stand to look at that mouse.

Flint was waiting at the mouth of the Warren, surprising Declan, the silvery, slinky she-cat Willow next to him. "Hello," he greeted.

His mouth full of fur, Declan could only nod in greeting. He set the rabbit down and asked, "What are you doing so far from the healing den?"

Flint looked away. "We're going to go collect some leaves I think will help with the cough that's going around." His eyes fixed on Declan. "You want to come with us?"

"Uh, not today. I just went out hunting."

One of Flint's ears twisted behind him. "It's not really a request," he muttered.

Declan was surprised. "Lucky gave the order for me to go along?" he asked.

"Let's not concern ourselves with that kind of thing," Flint said dismissively, standing. "River and Gravel can get that," he added, nodding to the rabbit. "We need to get going now before it starts to snow. Come on. To the brook."

The brook? Did any leaves even grow down there? "Can I just go see Twist?" Declan asked. "I haven't seen her since—"

"No, we have to go now. Come on," he said again, trotting out of the Warren.

River said, "I'll tell Twist where you went."

Declan felt a sick roll in his belly. He didn't want River to tell Twist anything. "Alright," he said, forcing cheer into his voice. "Tell her I'll be back later today, okay?"

River agreed that he would and Declan turned to follow Flint and Willow.

Flint led them down the slope towards the brook, his shoulders tense and bristling. Willow looked similarly uncomfortable, her plumy tail swishing from side to side. She jumped at every noise, her fur fluffing out to twice its size when a lark called suddenly.

"Are you okay?" Declan leaned closer to her, not liking the fear that widened her eyes.

Willow looked more startled when he addressed her. "F-f-fine," she said. "Really. I'm fine."

"Calm down, Willow." Flint didn't turn around as he addressed his friend. "There isn't anything to be worried about."

Willow's ear set back. "What about the killer?"

"There isn't a killer."

"Then who killed Bronze and Jaybird?" she challenged.

Flint stopped. Sighing heavily, his shoulders dropping, he turned around. His expression curiously blank, he said, "You shouldn't be doing that. Don't say things you don't understand."

"What's not to understand? Someone out here is trying to pick off cats. And it's one of us!"

"It isn't one of us," Flint corrected her crisply. "A Slider wouldn't kill another Slider."

"Not even that she-cat?" Willow said, her voice suddenly hushed. "Lightfoot? She's killed rogues before."

Flint's voice was a sharp snap when he demanded, "You think that Lightfoot would kill one of our own? Well, she wouldn't. She might be bloodthirsty but she's loyal to Lucky. She wouldn't ever do anything to challenge that."

"Flint's right, Willow," Declan said gently. "Lightfoot's on our side. She wouldn't cross Lucky. She knows better. And besides, Jaybird was an old cat. Why would Lightfoot go after her?"

Now looking even more uncomfortable, Willow murmured, "Someone did."

Declan felt a sinking pull in his belly. Someone definitely had gone after the old she-cat, but who? And why? What kind of threat did Jaybird show? To the best of his memory, Declan couldn't remember a single moment after returning from the Claws that Jaybird had been hostile. She'd been gentle-tongued, a motherly old cat. So different from the ruthless Claw guard she had been forced into being.

If Jaybird could be like that, couldn't he? The thought struck Declan like a blow to his stomach. He couldn't remember most of his smoke-treated time during the Claws—nothing but a wide, blank confusion, clearing only when he had seen Twist. She had been able to snap him out of it, out of the brainwashing he'd suffered from her father. That time when he hadn't been himself, but Leo—a darker, more vicious and hateful creature than Declan had ever felt. He never wanted to be like that again. He never wanted Twist to look at him with fear again.

The brook's bitter water-scent reached Declan before he even heard the tumbling water. Today, it was thick and storm-gray, flecked with chunks of ice that grated and crashed together, making a rather hypnotic sound. Declan bounded up to the side and stared down into the water, watching the water swirl into whirlpools, topped with a crest of white foam.

Flint and Willow went right to work sorting through the undergrowth while Declan watched out for them from atop a rock. He assumed that this was the reason Lucky had sent him along—sentry and protector for these cats more dedicated to healing than to fighting. Though, he thought rather wryly, he had seen Willow dishing out beatings to several Claws during that midnight battle.

Flint came over to him with a mouthful of bluish leaves. Setting them down on the rock, he said, "These are what we're looking for. Amber, my mentor—in the Claws," he said quickly, looking like the embarrassed awkward cat he used to be for a heartbeat, "taught me that they have healing properties. They're full of a juice that helps sore throats."

"Who's sick in the Sliders?" Declan settled himself onto his belly, his thick tail draping over the other end of the rock.

Flint pulled a sour expression. "A few cats. Ren. Iggy. Felicia and Emmy. Streak."

Streak. Twist's favorite young cat. No wonder she had been so tense lately. "Are they healing well?"

"Not as well as I had hoped. These will help." Flint paused then, his mouth open as if to say more, then closed it. "These will definitely help," he said finally, turning and heading back into the forest.

Declan watched him go, wondering what thought was spinning inside his mind. In the past few moons, peaceful ones, no cat had been injured or threatened by another. The Claws kept to themselves, sequestered deep within the darkness of the silent forest beyond the brook.

Sometimes Declan wondered what they were doing. The Claws had only known war and hatred and bloodshed. Peace must be unsettling for them.

Unless they also had losses from the unknown murderer.

The thought had struck him time and time again. Mostly whenever he awoke in the middle of the forest, his pelt hanging heavy with snow from his sleepwalking. The taste of smoke on his tongue and fire in his mind, Declan would stare out across the forest and wonder where they were, what they were doing…

And why he was so desperate to join them.

That was what he was keeping away from Twist so frantically. It wasn't just the nightmares making him walk. It was the drive to once again be with the Claws.

It had to be the smoke treatment. It certainly wasn't the part of himself that remained entirely his. It must be Leo still living somewhere in the back of his mind, whispering those things to him, forcing his paws into the darkness, that warm enveloping world where passion and bloodthirst ruled above anything else.

Those dreams that filled his entire body with boundless strength and energy. Those dreams where invisible cats chased him, choking his breath with fear, were all in the past, the early stages of this new and much more terrorizing nightmares. They made him feel powerful and strong now, no longer frightened and fleeing.

And they terrified him.

What if those nightmares sent him straight back to the Claws one night? What if Twist found out about him and his dreams?

Or worse: What if one day, those dreams made him turn his claws against her?

"Declan."

He blinked, seeing Flint standing in front of him. "Wh-what?"

Flint's eyes flickered then. "I said we're done now. We can go back home."

Declan, embarrassed, leapt off the rock. He didn't look at Flint; what if he had seen something in Declan's face? What had given him that blank expression?

"Do you need help with these or—" He was cut off by Willow's startled shriek.

"Someone's in the brook! There's a cat in there!"

Declan didn't feel himself move until he was already at the brook's edge, looking down into the water. A spark of soaked fur caught his attention as the cat drifted downstream towards them. Its head was sinking below the surface, water flooding into its open mouth. It didn't even yowl for help.

Flint was standing stock-still. "That cat will drown," he said blankly.

Declan looked from him to Willow, whose eyes were fixed unmovingly on the cat, then turned to the brook again. The cat was torn back and forth by the water, spinning hazardously close to the sharp edges of jutting rocks.

Without another thought, he bounded to the edge of the rocky shoreline and threw himself forward.

The water was so cold it paralyzed his entire body. His bones felt like they'd turned to ice even as his lungs screamed from the freezing temperature.

He broke surface, gasping, his soaked fur weighing him down. He forced his paws—paws he couldn't even feel—to move, to churn the dark, rough waters, pushing him over to the other cat. He heard Flint and Willow yowling behind him but ignored them, his eyes seeking out the cat.

Then he saw it. It had fetched up against a pile of branches and was clinging with unsheathed claws. The water pulled at it, ripping its fur. Its tail floated behind it like a pale snake.

Declan paddled over to it just as it let go. "No!" he yowled before he could stop himself. The water poured into his open mouth and he spat it out, the bitter tang of the water lingering on his tongue. He threw himself after the cat, now sunk below the surface.

The water here was smoother—probably from the cluster of sharp rocks surrounding them in a half-circle—and easier to traverse. Declan circled, trying to find the cat who had seemingly disappeared.

Declan's hind paw brushed something too soft to be river weeds.

Taking in a deep breath, he plunged his head below the surface. Opening his mouth, he reached blindly for the cat. He managed to get a mouthful of fur and pulled back.

The air above the water felt so cold to his numb nose.

Hoisting the cat's head above the water, Declan swam back across the brook onto where the shore was more level. His paws brushed pebbly sand and he collapsed onto his shoulder. Forcing himself back up to his paws, he pulled again, heaving the cat's head onto dry land.

Flint and Willow, racing along the ridge of land, appeared in front of his blurry eyes and took the cat from him.

"That was reckless and stupid!" Flint hissed as he yanked Declan up further to where the ground was bare of pebbles. "Stupid! You moron! You could have died! Willow, come over here and take care of him. Make sure there isn't any water in his lungs. I'll get the she-cat."

She-cat. Declan was numbly surprised.

Willow's touch was much softer and infinitely warmer than Flint's as she gently licked his face and ears. "Can you breathe?" she asked him softly, her breath hitting his face. He still couldn't see her clearly.

His throat burned from the water and strain of swimming as he tried to speak. "Yes," he croaked.

"Did you hurt yourself anywhere?" Without waiting for an answer, she nosed along his flanks, poking and prodding.

He winced as she pushed over his ribs, hissing slightly.

She let out a soft sound. "You might have broken something."

"I didn't hit anything. Not that I can remember." He swallowed painfully, as if he'd eaten a mouthful of rocks.

Willow frowned. "It might be—"

"Willow." Flint's voice was strangled.

She went to him immediately. Declan turned his head slowly, seeing bright lights pop in his vision, to see the wavering image of the two of them standing together over the soaked she-cat. From this angle, all he could see was the slick wet fur of her shoulder and the ample swell of her belly.

She's with kits? Declan was shocked. What would a soon-to-be mother be doing so close to the dangerous brook?

Willow let out a startled little cry, soft and pained. "No," she whispered.

"What?" Declan asked, his voice slurred. He got to his paws shakily, his legs trembling, but no one was paying any attention to him anymore. And as he got closer to the she-cat, Declan knew why.

The pregnant she-cat that had almost drowned wasn't some random cat. It was Audrey.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Clear the way! Come on, move!" Flint was yowling into the Warren's gate, where everyone gathered. There was a mingling sense of curiosity and dread in the air and a heartbeat later, Declan heard what they were saying.

"Is it another body?"

"Oh, stars, don't let it be one of ours."

"That killer's struck again. We have to do something about this!"

Declan, holding Audrey's deadweight in his jaws, pushed past them, feeling eyes scorch his pelt. They, like him, hadn't realized that one of their own had come back to them—though how damaged, no one knew.

He passed by Gravel and River, standing side-by-side, staring, past Jenny and Ren and Pip and Vivian. Even Dahlia was standing there, her pale beauty startling in the bright light. Declan looked away from her quickly before his thoughts could run away from him.

The healing den was already full of cats by the time they got there. Lucky, Viktor, Kite, and River were there, with Streak and Iggy poking their heads out of one of the dens. Streak scooted forward when Declan brought Audrey in.

"Is she dead?" he asked, his eyes wide.

His mother hushed him, brushing her nose across his head. Any other time she would have clouted him but Declan could see the crust around his nose and how watery his eyes were. Streak sniffed miserably as he watched.

Flint led them to the very back den, out of reach of all prying eyes. He scrambled to put together a nest while Lucky interrogated him in that slow, even tone. Flint didn't answer him, ignoring him completely. "Over here, Declan. Set her here."

Declan lowered Audrey gently into the nest. He noticed that a thin stream of blood was trickling out of her slightly parted jaws. "Is she bleeding?"

"A pregnant she-cat so far out into the woods," Lucky mused. "This is a very strange occurrence."

"Where is her family? Is she a pet?" Viktor sniffed Audrey's pelt. "Poor dear."

Declan felt numb. They didn't even recognize her.

Then Streak tottered forward, his eyes narrowed in thought. Then his jaw dropped. "Audrey?"

There was a beat of absolute silence.

"Impossible," Lucky said, but now his voice was no longer even.

"Audrey left us moons ago!" Kite exclaimed. "She disappeared! We thought she was dead!"

"Well, she's not," Flint said, propping up Audrey's neck with careful paws. "She's very weak. Even before she fell in the water, she was starving. Look, you can count her ribs."

"But…she is pregnant." Lucky sounded absolutely confused, as if he didn't realize she-cats could get pregnant.

"She must have been having such a hard time." Kite stroked Audrey's face with one paw; there were many healed lacerations on the ginger she-cat's face, just beneath her ginger pelt. Now that she was drying off, her tabby stripes became far more evident. "Poor little scrap."

There was a scuffle behind them and Twist came tearing into the den. She stopped at the sight of so many cats clustered together, blinking rapidly. Then she slid to Declan's side, reaching up to touch her nose to a slash on his shoulder—one he hadn't even noticed. "They told me you leapt in a river," she said, her voice smooth and level.

He wasn't fooled. Twist was at her calmest when she was most stressed.

He pushed his head against hers, purring. "I didn't die, though. That's good, right?"

Twist closed her eyes to half-slits. She didn't say anything else.

"Twist," Lucky said, and then her attention was caught again. "Audrey has been found."

Twist gasped. "What?" Then her eyes fixed on the she-cat at her paws and dismay shot across her face. "No. What happened to her?"

"That is unknown for now," Lucky said slowly. "She was found only a few moments ago. Declan acted very bravely. She would have been lost otherwise."

Declan bent his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Lucky."

Lucky returned his nod, then turned to Flint. "Why has she not awoken yet?"

Flint looked uncertain. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's going to be a long healing process for her, when she does wake up. She's half-starved. Wherever she's been, she's had a hard time." He lifted her paw to display the roughened pads. "Somewhere in the no-pelt territory. Their rough paths do this to paws." His paws brushed down her flanks to where cuts and scrapes lifted the fur in scabs and scars. He ended on her hind paw, where a thick twisting weal rose up to her haunch. "She has seen very rough battle."

Viktor and Kite let out a soft sound at the same time—a wistful kind of sigh.

Streak sniffled again, stepping forward to sniff at Audrey's flank. "What about her kits? Will they be okay?"

Twist moved unconsciously almost at his sad voice until she was next to him. She drew him to her side, licking his ear. Streak leaned into her, comforted.

Flint said, "I don't know. It's a very small litter."

"When will they be born?" Lucky asked.

"Soon. Very soon." Flint twisted his jaw. "Maybe that's why she was coming back here."

"I see." Lucky's dark eyes drifted from Audrey to nothingness. He was clearly thinking hard. "Please take care of her, Flint. Alert me if anything changes." He turned to Viktor and murmured something into the tom's ear. He started to walk away, stopping by Declan's side. "Are you uninjured?"

His lungs burned and every muscle in his body ached, but that was nothing compared to Audrey's suffering. "Yes," he lied.

Lucky's dark eyes flickered. "Thank you for what you did. Your bravery saved Audrey's life. I hope you continue to look after her. She will need friends when she awakens."

The unspoken If she awakens hung in the still air for a moment before Lucky moved on, taking the spectators along in his wake until it was only Flint, Declan, Twist, and Audrey.

Flint got to work quickly mashing up herbs to place on Audrey's fresher cuts. His touch was expert. It was done within several silent moments, wherein Declan and Twist watched anxiously.

"How could this have happened?" Twist murmured, her words only for Declan.

He sighed lightly, regretting it immediately when his lungs shrieked in protest. "I don't know," he said, his voice raspy. "I don't know where she went or where she's been."

Flint flicked his ears. "She'll tell us herself," he said firmly, wiping his paws off on some moss. "When she wakes up."

"When will that be?" Twist asked.

Flint's eyes didn't move away from Audrey. "Soon. The herbs I gave her should help rouse her. It might take awhile. If you want to sit around and wait, you'll have to be my eyes for her. I have to tend to my other patients. They need this leaf juice. So can you handle her?"

"We can," Twist said.

Flint nodded. "Call me if anything happens, okay?"

Declan turned his eyes to Audrey's face. The bones seemed so sharp beneath her ragged pelt. Why had she ever left the Sliders? They had protected her, kept her safe and fed. Why had she decided to just leave them?

They sat in silence, listening to the rise and fall of Audrey's breathing. It was uneven, a lopsided sound, as if she'd been running. Her eyelids fluttered as the eyes beneath wheeled aimlessly. Her lip curled in a growl.

Declan fell into a low doze, his chin resting on his chest. His fur had dried completely now, fluffing out warmly, keeping his body heat close. In his mind, the brook scene played over and over again.

What if he hadn't jumped in after her? What if he had let her float by? He hadn't known that it was Audrey he was watching drown. What if he hadn't been there at the right time? Could she have saved herself? Herself and her unborn kits?

And who was the father of those kits? Had Audrey gotten a mate in the moon cycles she'd been gone? And where was he now?

"Declan." Twist's voice startled him out of his sleep. He hadn't realized he'd actually drifted off until he snapped awake, eyes opening. It was dark, the hole in the ceiling letting in only the faintest half-light.

"Wh-what?" He shook his head, trying to clear the fuzziness from his brain.

Twist was sitting closer to Audrey now, her paw extended. Audrey's rested on top of it.

Declan stood, sweeping around to stand behind her.

Audrey's eyes were the faintest slits, glittering like dawn light off of smooth water. They looked without seeing, her mouth moving.

"What?" Twist frowned, leaning closer. "What did you say, Audrey?"

Audrey's eyes opened the tiniest bit further, making her highly dilated pupils more visible. She cleared her throat, a tiny sound, and opened her mouth. "I found him."

Declan and Twist exchanged a fleeting glance.

"Found who?" Declan asked softly, stepping closer.

Audrey looked up into his eyes, her own swirling with confusion and exhaustion.

"I found Snit."


"Wait, what?" - Everyone Who Read This

I know, I know. Don't worry, all will be explained. ;)

-informercial tune-

HEY, YOU. YOU SITTING THERE.

UNKNOWN SOLDIER SHADOW HERE WITH ANOTHER GOOD IDEA!

Are you a Nerdfighter? Do you enjoy writing and reading? Would you like the chance for your writing to be viewed by hundreds if not at least ten individuals?

Then Tales From Your Pants is the lit magazine for you!

-commerical over-

Seriously. Me and my friend CascadingScrawl are making a Nerdfighting literary magazine. We're in the gathering supplies, getting people, ideas phase still but THINK: you could have your writing here on the internets! We're starting off online but we could even move to print if we get enough people wanting to enter.

If you're interested, come on down to YourPants. It's a dot org kind of site. The forum page you'll be looking for is Nerdfighting Literary Magazine Project.

Oh, and don't mention that I sent you. I'm kind of too old to be writing Warriors fanfiction. XD

But if you wanna test it out, come on down! We'll be waiting!

SHADOW OUT.

But seriously, come on down! It'll be superfun. What have you got to lose?

Anyway.

You know what to do.

R&R~

Shadow