So sorry for not posting in so long! Life is so busy, and I just couldn't think of what to write. Plus, I was dabbling in other areas of the fanfiction world. Anyways, here's your update...
p.s. Wow! So many reviewers for the last chapter! Thanks so much! A lot of you nailed it on the dot for the fifth cat, but there were a lot of guesses, and I won't tell you who's right! Now, on with the story.
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Larria blinked open her eyes. She yawned, squinting at the soft morning sunlight that filtered through the trees. Birds chirped softly in the trees, and Larria smiled, closing her eyes, enjoying the peaceful moment.
Then memories crashed down on her, and she bolted up, looking frantically for the black she-kit. "Hey! Hey, where are you?" she whispered heatedly, whipping around.
With a sigh of relief, she heard a tiny mew coming from near a large oak tree. She padded cautiously up to it to see a bundle of black fur nestled next to the bark.
"Hey. Wake up," she whispered softly, nudging her. The kit's fur being pure black, all Larria could see were faint silvery-gray whiskers lying on the ground. The she-cat stirred.
Then her eyes flew open, revealing pretty light-brown eyes. She blinked up at Larria, who was stunned. She hadn't ever seen a kit open their eyes that early.
"Hey, you," she whispered softly. The she-cat yawned innocently, looking up at her savior.
"Get up." Larria nudged her again, and the tiny kit obliged, padding out from her nook and looking about her in wonder.
"Are you my mother?" words suddenly flew from the kit's mouth, soft and sweet. Larria stood stock-still. How long had she been out for this kit to be able to talk and walk?
"No," she said gentle, "I'm your – um, I'm your big sister."
"Oh!" she said with a tiny squeal, watching Larria with dancing amber eyes. Then her eyes clouded. "Um... I can't remember your name. Or my name."
"I'm Larria," the tortoiseshell prompted, and the black cat shrugged. "You don't have a name yet."
"Oh. Why not? Can you give me one?" she pranced up to Larria, putting her front paws on her "big sister's" paws, looking up at her innocently. "Pleeeeeease?"
"Fine, fine," Larria chuckled. "You'll be... Belle."
"Belle," the she-cat said, tasting the word on her tongue. "I like it. It's pretty." She did a little hopping dance, giggling sillily.
"Welcome to the forest, Belle," Larria said grandly, dipping her head in a mock bow. Belle giggled.
Then her brown eyes clouded and she said, "Who were those white cats?"
Larria was silent. Then she waved her tail and started walking. "Walk with me, Belle. We have a lot to talk about."
The tiny black kit frowned, trotting after her. They padded along in silence for a little while.
"Those white cats are very, very bad cats," Larria finally broke the silence. "They have this twisted mindset that your fur has to be white to be good. They don't like you and me because our fur is... well, different."
"Oh," said Belle in a small voice. "I understand, but why?"
"Well... I think they want to feel powerful. And this is a way to get power," Larria struggled to explain. Belle obviously didn't understand.
"So, can we go back?" Belle asked.
"No," Larria answered quickly, and Belle flinched. "At least, you can't. There are... some cats... who don't like you at all. And if I brought you back... they wouldn't be nice to you," she finished lamely.
"Okay," Belle said. She was too young to understand what Larria was implying. "So where will I stay?"
"Here," said Larria, stopping abruptly and craning her neck to look at a tree. It was a large mature oak, the tops of it ruffling in the breeze, and halfway up the trunk it sported a good-sized hollow where a squirrel had once resided – perfect for a kit as little as Belle.
"Do you think you can climb-" before Larria could finish Belle was a flash of black, clambering up the tree quickly. She disappeared inside the tree, poking her head out and calling, her voice quieted from the distance, "It's cozy!"
Larria purred softly. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow," she called up to the kit, shifting. "With some food."
"YAY!" came a soft, distant squeal before Belle disappeared inside the tree.
Larria started trotting home, dreading her return to the pure hunter's camp. It was a long walk back, too. At least she had time to work on her story.
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"I'm sure that Larria is fine, Forgotten. And your kit, too," Adder said falteringly to the distraught light brown queen.
"But Scragg – and -" Forgotten fell into anguished whimpers again. The previous night, Scragg had returned from chasing the runaway duo alone. His face was grim, and he had disappeared immediately into Kestian's den.
"They will be fine," Adder said more firmly. "Larria is better than that piece of filth." He said the last part softer, as to not attract the attention of Tallion, the white she-cat sitting nearby.
"Let's face it. They're probably both dead," came a rasping mew. Adder turned with a start to see an elderly gray she-cat limp out from the shadows, light brown eyes glinting harshly.
"No cat survives Scragg. They're both dead. Live with it," she continued hoarsely, voice harsh and croaky. Forgotten started to sob.
"You can't even try to help, Ice?" Adder hissed.
The gray she-cat's broken figure tensed. "She has no need to grieve. I have lost more kits than I dare to count. Killed. Chased away. Only two I know not for sure the fate of, and they are sure to be dead now." Ice took a shaky breath. "She will bring all of us to harm with her loudness. She must be silent."
Grudgingly, Adder had to admit he agreed with her. But he wasn't going to tell Forgotten that.
A figure appeared in the entrance. Small. Dark. Adder whipped his head around, focusing on the new arrival. His heart pounded as she stepped into the light.
Larria.
"Larria!" he cried, rushing across to her. She tensed, dropping into the shadows and whipping her head about. Nobody seemed to have noticed the outburst.
"Shut up, you dolt," she hissed. "You want Scragg to come and butcher me?"
"No, no, of course not, I'm sorry, it's just -" he suddenly, impulsively, shoved his muzzle into her fur, saying softly, "We thought you were dead."
She froze in shock, and Adder took a few steps backward, looking away in embarrassment when he realized what he had done. "I'm, uh-" he started, but was interrupted as Forgotten called to Larria hoarsely.
"Larria!" she called, her voice raw. "Where's – where's my kit?"
Larria hesitated, and grief and – was that guilt? - flashed across her face. "I'm sorry, Forgotten." she dropped her head. "The kit's dead."
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I know it was kind of short, I'm sorry! I'm back to writing, so you can expect more updates soon.