Hey, yall! Because of your reviewing, I decided to update early! Wasn't I fast? So, here's chapter 7, hope you enjoy!
P.S. I finished The Sight like two days ago… forboding ending! aah! moonstar and I found out the next book's coming out this summer… yay! I'm really excited! sorry, I just had to share that with people…
Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors, now leave me alone. This is the last disclaimer I think I'm ever gonna do, so live with it.
"Grampa, Grampa! Come play with me!"
The kit ran into her elder, making him fall down. Their purrs rose deep inside them as the old tom pretended to be beaten in a play fight.
"Oh, you've got me, you've got me!" he wailed in mock agony as the kit grasped his shoulder with tiny claws and teeth. "I surrender!"
The kit rolled off, lifting her chin in triumph. Her grandfather rose, shaking the dirt from his pelt, then crouched, narrowing his eyes menacingly. With a purr, he leapt gently at the kit. She squeaked in surprise as she was knocked onto her back, and squealed in laughter when she was tickled by the tom with his whiskers.
"Gotcha!" he purred. A border collie walked up to the cats. Her face was grave. The tom looked up, and the kit's laughter faded. Both stood to face her.
"What's wrong?" the tabby asked. His eyes clouded with concern. The kit just cocked her head questioningly, eyes bright with curiosity. The tip of her tail twitched back and forth in thought. The dog hesitated.
"Come with me," she growled to the older cat. When the kit tried to follow, she stopped her. "Stay here," she ordered gently. "I need to talk with your grandfather alone." They walked off toward the barn, leaving the golden-brown tabby kit alone in the middle of an empty field surrounded by trees.
0000
Glade squirmed around in her mossy nest, struggling to find a comfortable position. Why was she thinking about this now? Nothing had changed. The day's events shouldn't have made anything different. Everything was normal. She always acted that way, ever since… No. Hadn't she always been that way? Yes, that was right. Always. Nothing in her life had changed her in any way. She had never truly been happy, not since as far back as she could remember.
"Jessie looked plump," she murmured, grinning. "She must be having her first litter soon." Because she lived a mostly solitary life, Glade sometimes gave into talking to herself. I remember…
0000
A gray tabby she-cat came and sat beside the kit. She was sixteen seasons older than her, and had grown out of her soft kit fur. But the age difference didn't matter to them—the two were best friends.
"Hi, Glade," she mewed, turning her clear amber eyes on the kit. "I heard something serous happened at the barn. I wonder what it is." Still having her kit-like traits, however, the gray tabby hardly let anything get to her.
"Yeah, I know. Grandpa was taken by Heather back there. Have you been in the barn recently? Do you have any idea what's going on?"
The she-cat shook her head. "Haven't been there since early this morning. I wanted to get up on time to drink some of the dew drops. They're really sweet this year, soaking in the flavor from the grass. It's better to drink the water than to eat the blades—they make you sick. Remember that, okay?"
"Okay," Glade purred in amusement. Her friend was always trying to give her little pieces of advice.
The pair saw the old tom returning. As he neared he called to them. "Glade, Jessie, I need to talk to you." The kit could tell her grandfather was trying hard not to let his voice crack. Her anxiety rose.
"What is it, Ben?" Jessie mewed nervously. Neither of the she-cats had seen the tom so upset. When he finally reached them, Ben looked down at his forepaws, then swallowed and cleared his throat, choking back tears. He looked back up at them, eyes gleaming with the salty liquid.
"Lina is dead." He looked back down at his paws, unable to contain himself any longer. Through sobs he wailed, "My daughter is dead!"
Jessie's eyes swelled with tears almost immediately. She screwed up her face and bit her lip, padding over to press against Ben, who sobbed into her shoulder. Glade just sat, frozen. How could this happen? Was this some kind of sick joke?
Later that night, Glade tossed and turned in her nest of hay. It wasn't normal without her mother there. Heather's warm belly just wasn't the same. She hadn't cried, but the emptiness inside her clawed at her heart like the sharpest of thorns.
"Having trouble sleeping?"
0000
Glade sat up and faced the speaker. "What?"
"Having trouble sleeping?" the voice repeated patiently, a twinge of amusement flavoring it.
The she-cat sighed. "Oh, no, Canyon, I'm fine."
A small male fox nosed his way out of the undergrowth and settled by the cat. "I can tell when something's bothering you. What's up?"
"Really, it's nothing," Glade mewed, shaking her head.
"Then why were you confused for a minute there when I asked you that question?" Canyon's amber eyes flashed in the moonlight filtering through the trees.
"It's just, someone's said that to me before…. Nevermind, it was a long time ago." Glade laid back down, turning away from the fox. He sat in silence for a moment, then went on asking questions.
"Do you want me to stay?" he growled gently. The she-cat turned to glare at him, angered by his over-kindness. She opened her mouth to snap at him when Canyon quickly added, "I want to."
"Oh." Glade turned back away from him. "I guess that's okay, if you really want to." She knew he would be smiling at her back. She could feel his eyes on her.
"Thank you." He curled up and fell silent. His presence alone made Glade relax, and she found it a lot easier to get comfortable and finally close her eyes and doze off.
0000
The kit jumped up in her nest, taken by surprize. "What?" she mewed, trying not to wake the other animals. Only one of the horses shook its head, then went still.
"Are you having trouble sleeping." Jessie's eyes were clouded with concern for her friend.
"No," she lied. "Why?"
"'cause I was, worrying about you. You don't seem to be alright, with all your tossing and turning."
"I'm fine, really." Glade turned away and curled back up. She only then noticed she'd let her frustration tinge her voice with a poison that must have stung her friend, but she didn't dare look back at her, lest she feel worse.
"Oh," Jessie murmured, hurt. "Okay. Good night." Glade closed her eyes and listened to the she-cat pad quietly back to her nest and lie down. The kit frowned. Why was everyone so worried about her? She hadn't even cried, and already that day Heather and Jessie were prodding her all the time, asking her if she would survive without her mother. She was fine! All she wanted was for everyone to stop bugging her!
When a moon passed and nothing changed, Glade got fed up. She marched into the barn after a long walk on her own. All the animals were inside. It smelled like snow out.
"I'm leaving," she announced without warning. All the dogs and cats looked up at her, eyes wide. "You heard me," she growled.
"Why on Earth—" Heather began, taking up a motherly tone.
"I'm just tired of everyone fussing over me all the time! No matter how many times you ask me if I'm okay, my feelings aren't going to change! I'm fine, and no one believes me, either that, or they choose to ignore it. Also, I can take care of myself. If I trip, you don't have to go rushing to me to see if I was hurt. You didn't do that before mom died! You act as if every little thing will finally set me off crying, but it won't. Nothing will! I'm not going to break down like an unstable upwalker kit, like Ben did!" It was the first time she'd ever called him by his first name. "Before I go, I have something to say to some of you. Jessie, why did my mother's death have to change you? You never worried about me like you do now before! Why couldn't we just be best friends? You've started acting like my being seasons younger than you has made me immature and weak. Ben, you're selfish and inconsiderate. The only time I might have accepted comfort would have been when you told me she was dead, but you just had to wail out that your daughter was dead, that Lina was dead. You didn't even talk to me privately or anything, just told me like you would tell anyone that didn't know her. It looked like you came to me, a kit, for comfort! And Heather, stop pretending to be my mother when you're not!"
And she left.
0000
Glade had made it her business to show up once a moon, just to check on things. She would spy or make herself known, depending on her mood. This time she'd wanted to spy, but seeing the two new cats was just too delightful. She had to scare them and get some attention. She knew who Neal was, she'd seen him once when spying, but he didn't know she existed. She couldn't scare him because he was never alone, until now.
It had been the perfect opportunity. She hadn't even decided yet if she was going to visit that day or not, so she had decided to hunt near by. It was in the middle of eating that she smelled it. Right by the fence, approaching her. Two toms. She could smell them, and the scents were new. They were young, about her age, and small. She could take them.
First she followed the two for a bit, listening to them jabber about some Clans no one had ever heard of before. Probably some made up game. When they stopped walking, Glade knew it was her chance, and she took it.
The she-cat knew Neal wasn't a fighter, but she didn't know about that white kit. Instead of risking being pinned down, Glade attacked him instead of the golden tom. When he went for help, she was debating between running and being a coward, or getting caught and chased out. Either that or be pittied. She chose not to be a helpless kit, however, and stayed. She knew she wouldn't have been able to leave anyway because the white tom was giving her enough trouble.
Anger welled up inside her when she saw her old family. They all seemed so disgusting to her after her mother's death, all weak inside and full of pity. She didn't need their comfort. She never did. Ever. Why was that not clear to them? So she resolved to being rude.
She was even surprised how much her images of them had changed. She hardly noticed Jessie, who when she was younger would have been the first person she'd have run to, happily. Heather, who she'd adored for her wisdom and kindness, was now more annoying than any of the animals. And Ben, her beloved grandfather, was the most hated out of all of them. Everyone else still seemed to respect him for his age, which Glade had grown to think was ridiculous. To her, he was selfish and weak. He hadn't even talked to her about her mother's death. All he did was rely on others to comfort him, even once, without thinking, going to Glade. Already getting annoyed, she'd pushed him away. That was when she started really hating him.
Snarls and hisses were exchanged, and in the end, Glade was grateful to get away. She had started debating whether she was being hypocritical or not, getting mad at Ben for not offering her comfort, or even condolences. After all, wasn't that everything she complained about?
No, she told herself. I am right to think that he's selfish. Maybe I would have let the others feel sorry for me if they'd started out that way. It was only after I didn't cry that they payed any attention. Before that, everything was about Ben, Ben, Ben. Not Lina's daughter, but her father only. Why not both?
Because they didn't care. Not until they thought something was mentally wrong with me. What am I to them? A rogue, meant to be banished from everyone? Not cared about by even they tiniest flea that takes refuge in its pelt?
Yes, that's exactly it. That's what those kits thought. They even called me a tom. Those pieces of fox dung never even mentioned me, telling them to look out for me and bring me home. They're ashamed.
Maybe they're right to be.
Glade shook her head to clear it. Her mind was buzzing, switching back and forth. She had developed a headache from it. What was she thinking? She didn't know what to think of herself.
Look what they've done to me! Look at what they've reduced me to! A rogue. A good-for-nothing rogue.
But now she was acting like a new born kit, blaming everything that happened to her on someone else. Nothing could be her fault. She was weak. The more she thought about it, the more depressed she got.
It's your fault.
You got yourself into this.
They were only trying to help.
Only trying to help you.
They love you, and you pushed them away!
You're the only one who's selfish here, not Ben.
Selfish rogue!
Stupid fox pup!
Glade clenched her teeth as the thoughts popped up and swirled around her head, not leaving her alone. But she couldn't hold back her yowl of frustration. She bolted back to her nest, alone and confused, and there she lay, tossing and turning, when Canyon went to check on her.
Aww, poor Glade! She has a really sad life. -.- You guys did great on reviewing last time, and if you keep it up this chapter, I'll hold back my One-Year-Not-Updating threat! Now, knock yourselves out! –Spiritwind
