AN: Updated my profile; took off a few stories, marked Snatched as Complete. Also added a little thing at the bottom, in the 'Planned' section: I don't know what I'm doing next, fic-wise (I have an idea for a Pokemon fic, but I don't have a large audience for those, so….).
You know how I always rate my fics 'T' because I don't know what might happen? Yeah, this is a chapter that actually earns that rating. Read through the Buck part without fear and you can read into Lion's dreams, but after that you might wanna skip to the end, loves~
C h a p t e r 9: Buck & Lion
He let out a sigh, downcast, as he reached another dead end, another alley without Belladonna.
Where are you? He thought anxiously, his paws kneading the ground. He didn't know where to go next; this entire place was unfamiliar to him.
I promised myself I'd protect you, but you just had to run off, he thought miserably, padding to the entrance of the alley and considering his next move. I should have tried harder to come with you…Robin's practically useless, she can't protect you like I can….
He sighed again, opening his mouth, desperate for Belladonna's scent. All that greeted him was grit and the stench of monsters. His ears flattened, and he padded down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for Belladonna's distinctive cream-and-blue dapples.
He could tell he was nearing the edge of the Twolegplace, but he wasn't sure whether he should leave or stick around. Belladonna said she and Robin were heading towards the forest, he remembered, so as soon as they got out of this place, they'd leave. It won't do me any good to wander around the city and get lost. I suppose I have to leave, even if this isn't the right way…it's as good a place as any to keep searching.
And if you can't find her? A voice in the back of his mind wheedled.
I will. She tries to be strong, especially for Robin, but she's just as lost as the rest of Mother's children…we have to stick together. We can't survive like this, all scattered, he thought ruefully. I didn't have the courage to try and win her when I had the chance. I won't let her get away from me now.
He began moving faster, more urgently. With every step, it felt as if Belladonna and Robin were slipping farther and farther away from him, running to somewhere he couldn't keep up.
These Twoleg houses were nicer than Mother's, or the others in Mother's neighborhood, he observed. They were tidy and clean, with soft grass and white fences all in a row. If he cocked his head, he could hear the grating barks of dogs, and he couldn't help but ruffle his brown fur at the sound. Mother was a cat person, but some of the other cats fresh off of the streets had told Mother's children about terrible dogs, giant blood-thirsty beast who wouldn't hesitate ripping a cat apart. They were usually kept in containers called 'yards', but some of them walked the streets just like cats, wild.
The thought of Belladonna being attacked by one of those monsters flashed through his mind, and he shuddered.
A grassy field was just beyond the Twoleg houses, with a street running alongside it. He approached the grass cautiously, hating how it seemed to cloak everything from him, even the nearby street. He crept through the thick grass slowly, doing his best to be aware of any possible enemies. He almost had a heart attack as he came upon a mouse; his heart didn't settle down until long after the mouse had disappeared, making the grass sway.
The grass slowly thinned out, and he found himself practically on top of a large lake. He was still for a moment, watching the gentle ripples on the lake's glassy surface, before glancing around the area quickly. Near the lake was what appeared to be a pine forest; prey probably wasn't plentiful, but it might be enough for a few cats to live on. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of how he hadn't eaten since he had lost Belladonna's trail; he had followed her even after they had split up, wanting to protect her, only to lose her scent.
He opened his mouth, hoping to catch her scent here by the lake, but he could scent nothing. He began creeping forward beside the lake, keeping out of the whispering reeds. His eyes widened as he caught the scent of a cat – no, several cats. For a moment, he had thought he'd found her, but although at least two of the cats were she-cats, Belladonna's scent was not present. Frowning, he continued forward, spotting bits of disturbed earth where prey had been buried. His fur was bristling with tension; the scents of these other cats were very heavy. Suddenly, his ears pricked, hearing some sort of dispute.
"Just lie down," a she-cat was meowing. "You're pregnant, you can't be off running around!"
"I can still walk, can't I? And I've got another moon to go before I kit anyway," the other voice complained. Buck crept forward, stopping as he spotted two she-cats, one black and one white. The white one's stomach was somewhat large; he guessed she was the one who was with kits.
"Besides, Death's useless and we've got to provide for Shimmer, too," the white she-cat continued.
"I'm not useless!" a skinny black tom near the reeds meowed defensively. The she-cat rolled her eyes.
"You don't even hunt for yourself, you lazy lump," she growled, her voice laced with obvious contempt. The black tom's ears flattened.
"If Silverstreak was here, you wouldn't have to hunt," the black she-cat mewed, although it was more to herself than for the others. The white she-cat seemed to have heard, however, and bristled.
"Don't even talk about her!" the white queen spat. "She ran off on us, leaving us like this! She left us in the middle of some stupid Twolegplace with only an unreliable tom to get us home."
"I hardly deserve such harsh words," the black tom said stiffly. "I got us here, at least."
"Only because Ravenwing has a good memory for directions too," the she-cat shot back. "You don't get any credit for bringing us here."
"Iz glad you're here," a fourth voice meowed. Buck glanced around quickly, searching for the source, finally spotting a little silver kit. The black tom – Death – seemed to be as far away from the kit as possible, while still being with the group.
Ravenwing's green eyes were troubled. "We hid it from her, and your kits were fathered at least in part by a ShellClan tom. You're not blameless either, Frostfeather."
Frostfeather let out a little snort. "Go hunt, if it will make you happy," she growled, adjusting herself so that she was lying comfortably on her side.
The silver kit watched the argument with a blank expression on her face, an expression that did not change as her cold eyes met Buck's. He stiffened, certain that the kit would warn the others, but the kit simply glanced away, her gaze landing on Death, who flinched.
They don't seem to be the violent type, Buck thought, Ravenwing seems to be gentle, Frostfeather is pregnant and therefore won't fight, and Death seems…strange. The kit won't be a problem either, although I don't quite know why she didn't warn them.
He slowly rose to his full height, padding forward bravely. The cats turned towards him, looks of surprise on their faces – except for the silver kit's.
"Who're you?" the white queen asked bluntly.
"My name is Buck," he replied. "I'm looking for some friends of mine; you wouldn't have happened to see two she-cats pass by, would you?"
"We've only been here for a day," Ravenwing mewed, somewhat nervously. "Any cats you're looking for were gone before we came back here." She turned to the silver kit. "Shimmer, have you seen anyone?"
"No," the kit replied, but Buck didn't trust her cold eyes.
"Have you seen a silver she-cat?" Ravenwing asked. "In the Twolegplace?"
"In the city? No, I haven't seen anyone," Buck answered. "I'm sorry. Is she a friend of yours?"
Ravenwing glanced at Frostfeather, whose face was stony, and then gave a sort of shrug.
"She was once…I don't know if she is anymore." Her green eyes were round with sorrow.
"We don't need her," the white she-cat growled, but her voice was laced with bitterness.
Buck blinked slowly. "Are you four staying here? A pine forest doesn't seem like the best place for prey."
"There's enough, with the forest and the lake together," Ravenwing responded. "It's a little hard, but we'll be fine."
"I can hunt if you need help," Buck offered. Frostfeather raised her muzzle disdainfully, only to blink in surprise as Ravenwing nodded.
"We'd appreciate it," the black she-cat mewed. Buck turned to Death.
"Aren't you going to help?" he asked, a faint growl in his voice. Death looked terrified to be confronted by the large brown tom.
"I-I'm not that good of a hunter," he stammered, flattening himself to the ground. Buck's eyes narrowed.
"Surely you can learn."
Death glanced at Frostfeather, but the tough white queen offered him no help.
"S-sure, I can learn," Death quavered, rising to his paws shakily. Buck turned back to Ravenwing, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile before she turned to pad into the forest.
Hunting in the pine needles proved difficult, but not impossible; they were irritating against his paws and felt sticky when he crushed them underfoot, but that stickiness also meant that prey was lucky to escape his grasp. Ravenwing proved to be a magnificent hunter, grabbing a robin with a stunning leap. Watching her snare the bird reminded him of Robin, and then of Belladonna.
If they weren't ever here, I should move on, he thought, but as he watched Death make what might have been his first forest kill, he couldn't help but feel a bit of pride for the thin tom. Maybe I'll hang around…just for a little while?
They padded back to camp, and Death presented Frostfeather with his catch proudly, his golden eyes shining. Frostfeather opened her mouth as if to make fun of the skimpy catch, but the look in Death's eyes simply caused her to nod, taking it from him.
"See, sweets?" Death purred. "I can take care of you. I'm not useless." He stroked her side with his tail, only to let out a yowl of pain as Frostfeather suddenly twisted around and bit down on it. She held him there a moment, listening to his whimpers, before letting him go.
"We talked about the flirting," she growled. "We're Clanmates, and I'm with kits; I've had enough romance."
Death looked hurt. "But we still could—" He was silenced by the threatening look in Frostfeather's eyes. Buck was certain that Death would snatch his kill back from the cranky she-cat, but to his credit he left it with her, padding some distance away.
Buck settled down with his own catch, only to find Death eyeballing him. Buck let out a low, warning growl, before glancing at Ravenwing and discovering that she was sharing her prey with Shimmer. He blinked slowly, remembering the effort Ravenwing had put in just to catch the robin; and now she was sharing it with the strange little kit?
Buck frowned, and his pelt prickled, telling him that Death was still watching.
"Fine," Buck growled, and Death hurried forward, taking a gulp of Buck's prey before the brown tom could even open his mouth. Death seemed to gulp down food faster than any cat Buck had ever seen, and when all of the meat had been stripped from the bones, it was clear Death had gotten the lion's share of it.
"Thanks," Death purred, licking his whiskers. Buck simply grunted, feeling his stomach give a quiet hungry gurgle.
"You should have shared yours with the she-cat," Buck meowed, looking down at the pile of bones, all that was left of his kill.
"You kidding? She'd chew my ear off," the black tom said cheerily.
"Then why give her your prey at all? I'd bet my tail that was the first time you've caught anything in a long time."
"It was," Death said slowly, and glanced at Frostfeather. "But she's so cute, don't you think? So…white. And her fur feels like clouds…."
Buck let out a snort. "You won't get anywhere with that one," he laughed. "She's with kits, obviously; where is the father?"
Death rolled onto his stomach, letting the waning sunlight warm his back. "Dead, I think. Both of them."
Buck blinked. "Both of them?"
Death nodded, letting out a lazy yawn. "One was from her Clan, one was from another Clan-thing, I think. That's why their silver friend was so angry and left."
Buck was intrigued, but with both she-cats watching the two of them, he didn't feel as if he could continue this conversation, not as long as they were awake.
"Why don't you three get some rest?" he called. "Death and I will take the night watch. I'll be leaving in the morning anyway."
The she-cats looked surprised at the offer, especially Death 'volunterring' to stay awake. Still, neither of them wanted to look a gift mouse in the mouth, so the two sisters curled up together. Buck noticed that the little kit slept by herself, further away.
Death's ears flattened. "You aren't going to make me stay up all night, are you?" he whined, sounding like a kit. Buck flicked his tail at him, silencing him.
Buck was quiet until he was certain that the others were asleep, waiting until moonrise before he turned to Death.
"Tell me about this silver cat, and this Clan," he meowed. "Start from the beginning."
. . .
"And then when I woke up, Silverstreak was gone!" Death complained. "Which means I was stuck with Frostfeather's…kits." He shuddered. Buck raised an eyebrow. "Kits are terrifying!" Death exclaimed. "They look at you with their little eyes, and they climb all over you and squeal and slobber and…." He shivered again. "I hate them."
"So why are you still sticking around?" Buck asked.
"I told you, they saved me from the dogs," Death meowed. Buck's eyes narrowed.
"From what I've seen, you don't have a loyal bone in your body," he growled. "Why didn't you attempt to follow Silverstreak? Even if you couldn't find her, you'd be no worse off than before, living on the streets."
Death glanced at the sleeping she-cats, and Buck groaned.
"You stayed for the cat with kits, when you know that she's mated with plenty of toms before, and you're afraid of kits?"
"Her fur," Death said with a wistful sigh. "And she's so fierce, and beautiful…."
Buck shook his head. "Hopeless."
Death's eyes narrowed, and he looked almost angry. "Well who are you looking for, huh? You're looking for a pair of she-cats too, aren't you? If you had a chance with them, then they wouldn't have left you," he hissed, venom in his voice. Buck's eyes narrowed, and his fur bristled.
"Don't you say a word about then," he hissed. "I'm not interested in them, I'm just trying to protect them!"
"You can't fool me," Death laughed quietly. "I've been around the fence a time or two; I know that look. You really like at least one of those she-cats, but if she didn't want to travel with you, she doesn't feel the same way. At least I'm traveling with the she-cat I like!"
With that, he turned away, clenching his jaw. Buck was silent, his thoughts churning.
It's true that Belladonna doesn't…think of me that way. We barely knew each other in Mother's house. But following her to protect her really isn't bad, is it? I don't have a chance if I don't follow them, but I have one if I do…I don't even know where they are, though, now. How can I find them again? His ears flattened, and he rested his head on his large paws. I can't just lose Belladonna. What if she gets hurt?
He glanced at Death, but the tom was still looking away stubbornly. I'm taking out my frustrations with Belladonna out on him, he thought ruefully, but it's true: I doubt Death could ever get Frostfeather to return his affections; she doesn't seem like the kind of cat to fall in love with a coward.
And Belladonna isn't the kind of cat to fall for some sort of hidden protector. She's too full of pride, she thinks she can take care of herself; any attempts I would make to protect her would only make her angry. That's why she didn't want to travel with me in the first place.
He let out a morose sigh, and Death glanced at him before looking away again quickly.
But if I can't protect Belladonna…what can I do? I'm not built for solitary life. I've always lived with other cats, with Mother. Twolegplace is a dangerous place…I don't want to live there. So where…?
He watched Frostfeather and Ravenwing sleep, huddled together. Frostfeather's kind of like Belladonna…in a less celibate way, I suppose.
Death said these cats were trying to build a Clan. A group of cats, living together…like with Mother. It's as good a place as any, I suppose…but they'll need the leader before they can do much. Their leader ran away…Frostfeather isn't too large to move yet, she could probably follow Silverstreak if we could convince her…that probably requires more skill than I possess, though.
He yawned, his lids feeling heavy. Glancing at Death, he let out a growl as he saw the black tom was asleep on his paws. Buck considered waking him, then shrugged to himself. He would keep watch for the night; it would give him time to think about the path he would choose.
. L I O N .
He crouched, tensing, staring down the ridge. To his right, he felt Tiger shifting his weight, careful not to show himself. He moved his gaze, changing from staring down to staring directly ahead; he could see the gleam in Zig's green eyes as she shifted from paw to paw eagerly on the opposite slope. Blue looked impassive, although it was clear from the way that his shoulders were hunched that he was tense. He had to keep an eye on Zig; she was known for being over excited and impatient.
Lion swallowed nervously; all he could hope was that the plan would go without a hitch, that FrozenClan would suspect nothing until they wandered into the trap. He and Fadedstar had been planning this for some time; Fadedstar knew an attack on BirchClan was inevitable, once the other two Clans had fallen. He had said that Northstar would send small patrols at first, skirmishes to weaken the Clan while Northstar waited for the forest-sickness to do his work. Once Fadedstar was dead, Northstar would sweep through the Clan before Eaglestrike had time to gain his nine lives, crushing the last Clan in the forest.
Lion let out a quiet growl; he didn't like BirchClan, or any of the forest Clans, but he knew the mountain cats were much more brutal. Lion and his group had no choice in siding with BirchClan; they had been living in the forest in secret in moons. When FrozenClan began attacking the forest Clans, Lion had been afraid of his group becoming caught in the cross-fire, but there was nothing he could do; his mate, Clover, was heavily pregnant with his kits and too far into the pregnancy to survive a trip through the mountains to safety. Fadedstar had promised that if Lion helped BirchClan to win the war, that Lion's group could live in peace. Lion didn't know if he could trust the old tom; Fadedstar was dying, and he would promise anything to keep his Clan alive. And then there was Eaglestrike, the new leader after Fadedstar's time was up; would he hold to the bargain?
Lion pushed the troubling thoughts from his mind; he knew he would not get a better offer from the mountain cats, as brutal and calculating as Northstar was.
"Are you sure this will work?" Tiger murmured beside him. "There are only four of us, without Clover, and who knows how many cats in this patrol."
Lion glanced at Tiger, his second-in-command, his most trusted ally. "I have no idea if this will work," he answered honestly, "but we have no other way. Even if we die, at least Clover and the kits of our group will live on; Fadedstar swore he would take Clover in if we failed."
Tiger met Lion's gaze. "It was an honor serving with you," he meowed, and Lion smiled.
"The same goes for me," he meowed, and they returned their gaze to the ridge. The mountains ringed BirchClan, and the mountain cats were rumored to have tunnels spanning the entire range. Fadedstar had said that FrozenClan would use these tunnels to attack them from the mountains to the westernmost part of BirchClan's territory; that way FrozenClan wouldn't have to navigate through the cold marsh, and they would have an easy path to retreat to once their job was finished. This ridge from the mountains was the only passage into BirchClan's lush forest; FrozenClan would have to take it.
"There," Tiger hissed, and Lion followed his gaze. The patrol was padding through the ridge, their fur bristling and their claws already unsheathed, ready for battle. Lion's lip curled in disgust; the patrol wasn't even keeping an eye out for danger, so certain in their own safety.
"We wait for the end of the patrol," Lion had told the four warriors. "Then we can access how large it is and where we should strike. Wait for my signal."
A crackle made Lion turn suddenly, snarling and unsheathing his claws, certain that they were being ambushed, only for his eyes to widen as he realized it was Clover.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed. "I told you to stay back, to keep yourself safe!"
Clover blinked at him calmly. "I couldn't just leave you here; what if you never came back? I couldn't leave you to die, and let my kits be fatherless."
Lion's eyes narrowed. "Get out of here," he growled. "I need you to be safe, Clover. Please. You promised me that."
Clover touched his muzzle gently with her tail. "Do you think the BirchClan cats will really take me in if you die?" she asked softly. "My kits would be outcasts, hated, and we would eventually be forced to leave. We'd never make it over the mountains, Lion, not without help. I want to fight with you; you need every cat you can get if we're all going to make it through this alive."
Lion gritted his teeth, but he could see from the stubborn look in Clover's eyes that she wasn't going to back down.
His ear twitched as Tiger let out a hiss, and Lion turned to see Zig running down the slope at full speed, unable to contain her excitement. Blue had been caught off-guard by a bird for only a moment, but that was all the time Zig needed to race down the ridge, straight at the patrol. She sprang at them, landing on the back of one tom and biting his neck, before slashing another's throat and clawing a third down the length of his side. The patrol, stunned for a moment, slowly came to their senses and turned on Zig. It was then that she realized the danger, for the little tabby turned, running back up the slope towards Blue. Blue was frozen in shock, unable to move. Lion couldn't tear his eyes away, watching Zig run desperately towards Blue; if she could only reach him, she would be safe.
For a moment, it seemed that she was going to make it, but life had a habit of crushing hopes. Zig stumbled over something Lion couldn't see, maybe a stone, maybe a branch, and just like that, she was lost. It was only as the FrozenClan cats overtook her and Blue let out a cry of rage that Lion was unfrozen; with a fierce roar, he launched himself forward, racing down the ridge with Tiger and Clover at his side.
He sprang onto a silver she-cat, his claws digging into her fur, slashing down the length of her side. She fell to the side with a gasp of pain and Lion turned, searching for Clover. He saw her facing off against a tortoiseshell and tried to run towards her, only to be stopped by a leering white tom. Lion snarled, his fur bristling, claw the white tom's muzzle only to let out a hiss of pain as the tom's claws caught Lion's shoulder. Lion reared on his hind legs, slicing at the tom's face, scoring a slash over one of the tom's eyes. The tom took a step back, letting out a growl as blood dripped into his eyes, blinding him. Lion lunged forward, his fangs meeting the tom's throat.
Lion's vision seemed to narrow as he faced off against another warrior, a small tortoiseshell; she was the only thing he could see. Only the battle mattered; a slash here, dodge to the side there, bite down now, spring away, watch as the bodies piled up. He lost sight of Tiger and Blue, and even Clover was lost to himself as the battle took over; blood pounded in his ears, drowning out the yowls of anger and pain, and a slash over his muzzle turned everything he scented into blood.
His muscles began screaming at him in pain, but he couldn't hear them; all that mattered was surviving this opponent, and then the next, and then the next; each fight was one less cat who could harm Clover and their unborn kits.
Exhaustion soon set in, and his reactions became slower, his vision began to blur, and still he fought. Zig had already been lost this day; he would not be lost as well. Warriors had their precious StarClan, but there was nothing beyond life for rogues and loners.
And then, suddenly, the last opponent appeared, a silver tabby that he dispatched despite blood in one eye from a slash just above it. He tore his gaze away from her dying breath, ready for the next opponent, but there was none.
He was the only cat left standing.
A triumphant yowl escaped his lips, only to turn into a wail as he realized what it meant, to be the only cat left standing.
Ignoring the throbbing pain of his many wounds, Lion broke into a run, his gaze sweeping over the battlefield for any sign of life. There was Blue, lying beside Zig's body, as if he had fallen over it as he died. There was Tiger, his claws still stuck in his enemy's throat, his pelt riddled with deep wounds.
And Clover? Clover was nowhere to be found.
Lion clung on to hope as if he was drowning, as he scoured the battlefield looking for her ginger-and-white pelt, but he could see no sign of her.
Then, the faintest whisper of his name. He turned to see a small den, nothing more than a hole in the ground. Peering into it, he saw the gleam of Clover's green eyes.
"Clover," he whispered, squeezing his thick shoulders through the entrance. "Clover, are you—" He choked at the stench of blood, and his gaze swept over her, but he could not find the source of her wound until he saw the pool of blood around her, the tiny, still bodies.
"I'm so sorry," Clover whispered weakly. "The battle…too soon…."
Lion stared at the bodies of his kits with disbelief. "Clover, no," he rasped, his voice tight with shock. Just looking at the blood, he knew there was too much for any cat to live without, but his mind couldn't comprehend it.
He strained, but couldn't force his shoulders through the hole. He reached out one golden paw drenched in blood, struggling to touch her, but he couldn't reach her. Clover's nose reached out gently, touching his paw.
"I'm so sorry, Lion…I should have stayed behind," she breathed, her eyelids fluttering as she lost even the strength to keep them open.
"No! Clover, no!" Lion whispered, then more loudly, "Clover, no!"
Clover let out the softest of sighs and went limp against his paw. Lion simply stared a moment, before letting out a howl that seemed to tear right out of his heart, pouring out his anguish to the heavens.
His eyes shot open suddenly, only to be greeted by darkness. He shook his head, and then slowly padded out of the den, blinking at the morning light. It was beautiful, really, shining down through the trees, highlighting each vein of every leaf.
He didn't look at the leaves. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground.
For the last moon he had been waiting, watching as FrozenClan developed and became TalonClan, seething in his own misery and anger. Clover had left him, forever; he would never see her again, nor would he see Tiger, Blue, or Zig. Just the thought of the battle, losing his entire family, made Lion bow his head in sorrow, only for him to raise it again, his amber eyes blazing with anger. For the last moon he had watched as Northstar had gotten what he desired, had watched as Crowtalon had taken over the Clan. From time to time, Lion himself had visited TalonClan's camp; to Crowtalon he was only another mindless drone. There he had ferreted out information, learned who was sympathetic to Crowtalon – or Slaughter as he called himself – and who was not. There were two cats who showed promise, ShellClan cats, strangely, that he thought might help him destroy TalonClan.
He had bided his time long enough. Only a few days ago, Slaughter had sent out his scouts as well as his daughter; Slaughter still had his nine guards, but with the scouts gone there were fewer cats who would defend Slaughter if claw and to claw.
There was no better time to strike, and Lion had nothing to lose, without a family or his love.
He finally looked up at the sky, watching the green, filtered light, before clenching his jaw and turning his muzzle towards the mountains.
It was time.
. .
He moved slowly and deliberately up the mountainous slope, taking time to rest when he was tired; it would do him no good to reach the mountains and then become too tired to defeat even a single guard.
Finally, Slaughter's camp appeared in his gaze, and he smiled. Several cats welcomed him as they would a Clanmates, but most simply ignored him; TalonClan simply had too many cats for every warrior to know every other warrior.
He glanced at the ginger ShellClan tom that he had allied himself with, who appeared puzzled to see Lion, but neither of them spoke to each other.
Slaughter's den was near the highest ledge in the den, but Lion didn't want to enter it juts yet.
He would kill Slaughter's guards one-by-one, and then kill the monster himself.
"Slaughter!" he yowled, catching the attention of every cat within earshot. "Or should I say Crowtalon, lowly deputy of the evil Northstar?"
Slaughter appeared in his den, his eyes narrowed. They were icy, cold, like the deepest mountain stream, and for a moment Lion felt a tremor of fear.
"Who is it that calls me such names?" Slaughter asked, his lip curling in disdain. Lion stood firmly, spreading his paws to give himself a larger, more stable stance.
"My name is Lion, and FrozenClan cats killed my family," he hissed. Slaughter blinked slowly, and then his eyes gleamed in understanding.
"It was your cats that took down that patrol early during the conquest of BirchClan, yes? Oh Northstar was furious over that, so many lives lost…we never did understand who was responsible, no….You're alive, then, I see? Wanting revenge, I suppose?"He smiled, showing his sharp fangs. Behind him, eyes gleamed; the eyes of Slaughter's nine guards. Lion stiffened, his fur bristling.
"Are you going to let your guards handle me all together, like a coward?" he challenged boldly. "I will kill them all, together or apart; it makes no difference to me."
Slaughter's eyes gleamed angrily, but his voice was light. "So boastful, are we? Intriguing as it is that a pawful of untrained rogues beat FrozenClan's warriors, I doubt even you can withstand my nine warriors. Still, Mangle here would like to give it a try, wouldn't you?" Slaughter stepped to the side, allowing a gray tabby to appear. "TalonClan, watch as this traitorous cat is ripped apart by one of our loyal warriors," Slaughter ordered. "We'll make this a fair fight; no interrupting, no helping either side. Mangle's life is in his own paws."
The Clan murmured, their eyes bright with the hope of battle. A fighting circle was formed as cats moved to allow room for the two toms.
Mangle began circling Lion, sizing him up, but Lion didn't waste his energy, simply turning just enough to keep Mangle in his sight. When Mangle leaped forward, Lion was ready, rearing back on his hind paws and bringing them down squarely on the tom's skull as he lunged, feeling it give way under his massive weight. There was a terrible cracking sound, and Mangle went limp. Lion turned to Slaughter, a ghost of a smile on his face.
"Bring them on."
Slaughter's right eye twitched faintly as he stared at the body of Mangle. "Remove the body," he ordered, flicking his tail to a second guard. "Obviously he wasn't as strong as I had thought. Brute, Splatter, let's see how he fairs against two opponents."
Lion smiled back at him, his amber eyes glowing. "I can take them."
It was impossible for him to keep both in his sight this time, and now they were wary of him, after seeing what had happened to their companion. Lion's gaze flitted between the two of them, twisted as Brute pretended to lunge, only to feel the teeth of Splatter at his shoulder. Quickly, Lion twisted, burying his own teeth in Splatter's neck, before turning to meet the claws of Brute, slashing at his chest and muzzle. Brute drew back as Splatter hit the ground, his neck wound bleeding heavily. Brute let out a low grunt, an ugly sound, and sprang forward again, higher than Mangle to avoid Lion's paws. Lion simply crouched to the ground and twisted onto his back, ignoring the sting of his shoulder, raking his claws down the length of Brutus's stomach, opening up a deep wound through which his intestines were almost visible. Brute let out a gasp of pain and slumped to the ground, blood forming a crimson pool around him.
Lion met Slaughter's steely gaze. "How many more are you going to throw at me?"
"Enough!" Slaughter spat, and turned towards his remaining six guards. "All of you! Now!"
Lion tensed as the six guards came racing towards him. One slashed at his side and another deepened his shoulder wound as he slashed at a third aiming for his eyes. The cat dropped like a stone, and Lion turned towards the cat attacking his shoulder, springing forward to rip out his throat. He spat out a mouthful of blood as the cat gasped, drowning in his own blood.
The other three attacked from behind, and for a moment Lion was buried underneath them.
Clover! He thought, and his mate rose in his mind unbidden, surrounded by a pool of blood. With a yowl, he twisted up onto his back, slashing blindly at anything he could reach. One cat screeched with pain as he clawed one of its eyes; it drew back enough to allow him to throw off the other two guards. He sprang at the injured guard, biting down on his neck, before turning to face the final two toms once more.
They were both nervous now, watching him with fear in their eyes. He bared his bloody fangs at them, but to their credit, neither flinched or fled.
Lion took a step towards them, only to stumble as the pain in his shoulder flared. Sensing weakness, the two of them lunged together, knocking him to the ground again. He let out a grunt of pain as one's claws tore into his stomach, and the second bit into his ear, twisting and ripping, as if attempting to pull it off. Despite himself, he couldn't hold in the yowl of pain as the tom's teeth sank deeper and deeper into his ear. He couldn't twist out of the way without losing it, but if he didn't he was doomed.
Gritting his teeth, he turned towards the tom grabbing his ear, slashing at him as best he could as the other tom struck at his side. A lucky swipe made the tom release his ear, although from the blood streaming down the side of his face, Lion guessed his ear was mostly gone anyway.
He twisted back onto his stomach, giving the attacking tom as much as he was receiving. Blood was matting his stomach, but he wasn't sure how much of it was his, and how much of it was the enemy's.
The tom who had been attacking his ear was back, and Lion knew if he didn't get back onto his paws, he would be dead for sure; it was only a matter of time before one of the toms would stop playing around and get down to killing him.
Summoning a last burst of strength, he managed to break their grips and rise to his paws, facing the two of them with bared fangs. Both toms were grinning, sure that they had won, although the ground beneath them was slick with their own blood.
Lion let out a low, rumbling growl. "I came here for revenge, and I intend to get it."
And with that he struck, taking both of them by surprise, gripping the tom who had grabbed his ear before's ear in his own jaws, ripping it away with a savage motion. The tom let out a howl of pain, falling to the ground, blood streaming down his face. Lion turned to the other tom who was ready, but Lion had nothing to lose. He launched himself forward, using his weight to knock the other tom down, wasting no time in slashing his throat.
The last tom was lying next to his shredded ear, motionless. Lion approached slowly, staring at the warriors of TalonClan, meeting their eyes as he slowly slit the last tom's throat.
With that, he turned to Slaughter, and smiled.
"Your move."
Does Lion's group sound familiar? In role-play, Lion's group was used much as it was here, for one Clan to wage war for another. And, just like in this story, Lion was the only survivor. I was attached to their characters, though, and so when I wrote Snatched I brought them back! Lion and Tiger became Lightning and Mud (I didn't want to confuse my readers so soon after TR's Tigerstripe and Lionstorm) and Clover became Moss (Two Clovers with SkyClan blood would just be silly). However, I did not change Slate or Tabby's names; there was no reason to, so I kept those the same. For this story, I had to change them, though, because you guys would be majorly confused if Slate and Tabby died here, huh?
To sum it up: Lion's group in role-play was Lion, Tiger, Clover, Tabby, and Slate. For Snatched, I changed the names to Lightning, Mud, Moss, Tabby, and Slate. For this story I had to change Tabby and Slate's names to Zig and Blue.
Also, I've recently learned that I'm going to me absent from the 22nd (Thursday) to the 31st (a weekend day, I think). It might even be longer than that, depending on if we visit my grandparents again. Hopefully my loyal readers will stick around….