Hey, guys! Guess what I did between this update and last?
WROTE A FRICKIN' NOVEL.
That's right! 115K of beautiful, beautiful words. It was soooo rushed at the end, though-to make it in time for ABNA, you see-but it was so worth it. Aaaah! So now I've written three novels. The state of Novel 1 is: CRAP; Novel 2: dissected for parts; Novel 3: In severe need of editing.
So there's that. XD
Rapidfeather - Thanks! I hope you still like her after this chapter. XD
Squirrelheart - Yup! I'll use him a bit more throughout, too! ^.^ Hee! That is quite the possibility, isn't it? ;)
Silvertail of shoreclan - I'm glad that you feel conflicted about the Claws! I guess that means I did a good work-up to the whole deal. X3 And, yeah, I didn't mention about Hazel's whole need-to-eat kinda thing, so let's just assume another mother with kits took her. Yeah. XD
Tangleflame - Hmm, I dunno if Audrey will die. We'll see. X3
Viper3332 - Oh, wow, you reviewed like six times on this chapter. XD Well, I updated for you! Here you go! XD
Shadowmist1999 - Yup, Sidestep is an actual book. I ordered it using my NaNoWriMo credit through CreateSpace. As for having a copy for yourself, I dunno how you'd go about doing that. I suppose you could print it out using a super-huge printer or something. My friend Asa did that with some fics she liked. You can print it, book it, do whatever with it you want, as long as you don't, like, sell copies of it for money or something. XD
Monkey Csaw - Oh, no problem! I appreciate readers even if they don't review. It's just nice to know that people are actually reading, you know? XD Yeah, I love the vibe that Lucky and Lightfoot have. I might explain their relationship more fully but probably not. It's better to let readers assume what they will. Like, maybe Lightfoot always listens to Lucky because he saved her from a shark attack or something. Or maybe he broke her out of prison after a week-long catnip binge. XD I've noticed that a lot of the same reviewers move around to different stories! I like being able to recognize them whenever I rarely go to read other fics. XD
frostwingwarriorslover - Oh, hi, new reader! -waves- Welcome to the party! :D
Stormyleaf - Does she really? I haven't read a Warriors book since... -thinks hard- the first one of this new series. I don't think I'll read anymore but it's always nice to follow along with the plot to see where it goes. XD
Anonymous Angry Person - You really think that's the best way to get me to update? ;)
Okay, with that done and said, um...
Enjoy~
"Alright," Hazel said, her eyes narrowed. Her haunches wriggled as she crouched closer to the ground, so close she could feel the dusty ground brushing against her white belly fur. Every muscle was tight with anticipation. "We're going to run straight in. Don't look back. If you fall behind, you're left behind." Her eyes cut to the side. "You got that, Catch?"
Streak licked his lips. In the impending darkness, his white pelt looked less evident, like a smudge of pale shadow against the rowan bark. "Ready, Patch."
Hazel bared her teeth in pleasure. "Okay," she breathed, crouching lower. "Ready? One…two…three! Go!" she howled, running forward haphazardly, her tail scooting along the ground behind her.
Between her panting breaths, wild with exhilaration, she could hear Streak's paws behind her, pounding the ground. Her claws were unsheathed, ready at any moment for her spring into the air, fur catching in the strong wind, ready to sink into the flesh of the enemy who was sitting so close, unaware of the rushing danger…
Hazel hit Adder and he went down with a yowl of fright, his muzzle smacking into the ground with a loud, hard thud.
"Hazel!" he snapped, his head coming up. He glared at her, his eyes very intensely blue as usual. "You're such a kit! You didn't even let me—" This time Streak pounced him, bouncing off his back and bounding away, tail curling behind him.
Hazel sat down heavily, laughing so hard she could scarcely breathe. "You should have seen your face!" she got out when she was capable. "You didn't even see him coming!"
Adder curled his lip. His eyes went to his brother. "You're far too old for kit games, Streak. What's wrong with you?"
"Oh, come on, Adder. What's wrong with having some fun?" Streak's tongue was hanging out slightly as he panted, but his eyes were bright. They were yellow, like Twist's, but not as pretty. "I mean, I'm still young, aren't I?"
"Too old for those games," Adder repeated staunchly. He looked down his nose at Hazel. "And you. You shouldn't be this close to the gate."
"Uh-huh." Hazel was tired of everyone's worrying. It was all she ever heard. "Well, I'm not outside, am I?"
"Close enough." Adder whisked his tail across her nose, making her wince her eyes closed. "Now go away. Actual members of the Sliders are trying to work."
"I am a member of the Sliders!" Hazel spat.
Adder rolled his eyes. "Not yet. You're still too young."
"Yeah, well, in two more moon cycles, you'll be saying something different."
"Well, come back to see me in two moon cycles and maybe I'll owe you some respect. Until then, kindly go away. And don't come back." Adder turned away stuffily, his nose in the air.
Hazel obeyed, though only out of fear he would tell Twist and Declan she was close to the outside. Once she was far enough out of sight, she hefted her nose into the air, walking with an exaggerated swagger in her step. "'Ooh, look at me. I'm Adder. I'm so much better than everyone else.'" She scoffed, scuffing the ground with her paw. "It's not fair."
"Unfortunately, life isn't fair." Streak caught up to her. If he was fazed by her mocking of his brother, he didn't say so. Matching his steps with hers, he added, "But it'll get better. Once you're ten moon cycles old, then you'll be a real member. And then you can do whatever you want."
"Like go outside?" She turned eagerly, waiting to see the expression on his face.
But he looked away, something uncomfortable in his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, that's right."
Disappointed, Hazel asked, "Are you lying to me?"
He looked back, fondly this time. Nuzzling between her ears, he said, "No. We have a promise, remember?"
Of course she did. When she and Streak became friends so long ago it made her head fuzzy to think of it, they had sworn to never lie to each other. That was good enough for her, she told herself. After all, Streak was her best friend and best friends lasted forever—part two of their promise.
Still not fully appeased, Hazel flopped down on the ground right there. The wind was still blustery but it had the hot-season's warmth to it still. She closed her eyes, sighing heavily, her breath gusting along a few small dead leaves.
"Catch," she said without opening her eyes.
"Hmm?"
"What does the outside look like?" Now she opened her eyes to watch him, trying to dissect every bit of information she could from his expression.
Streak thought for a moment before he said, "It's very green. Most of the time. And it's rather loud. You can hear the sounds of the no-pelts from here, can't you?"
"Yeah, but it's really soft. Crashes and bangs and stuff like that." She couldn't imagine what they were doing out there, those mysterious creatures. Maybe they all went around stomping their feet and bumping off of metal things all day long.
"It's like that. And there are these machine things if you go far enough towards their territory. Other than that, it's all just trees."
"Do you climb them?" she asked.
He admitted, "I'm not very good at it. Adder and Violet are much better."
Hazel liked Streak sister Violet. She was quiet; it was very easy to pester her and she would never speak up against her. As for his other sister Whisper…it was an entirely different case. Hazel stayed away from her.
"What's up with all the questions?" he asked, affectionate patience in his eyes. "Something spark your curiosity all of a sudden?"
"I had a dream yesterday. I was hunting squirrels."
"You don't know what squirrels look like."
"I bet they're just like rats, only fluffier."
He laughed. Reaching out with a paw, he playfully scuffed her forehead between her ears. "Very true, my young pupil," he said, very seriously. "You could, honest to spirits, become the next great hunter with that: Squirrels are like rats but fluffier."
"Don't make fun of me!" She got to her paws, walked over to him, and pushed him over. Standing on his chest, she said, "I am going to be a great hunter! And then you'll be eating every single one of your words."
"Okay, Patch. I guess I'll wait for that day." He laid a forepaw across his head dramatically. "The day when the pupil surpasses the master. It will be quite a day to see, I'd imagine."
"You bet it will be. And take that stupid look off your face before it sticks like that." She pressed a paw to his cheek, pushing the skin up there until it forced his eye shut. She paused clinically and added, "Actually, that's a very good look for you. Very handsome. You'll get all the she-cats looking like this."
"I'm so sure," he said, his voice distorted. Bundling his hindpaws beneath him, he shoved her off into the air.
She twisted and landed neatly on all fours. Giddily proud of herself, she turned to tell him, her mouth open to speak, but he barreled her off her paws. She hit the ground on her side with an oomph of air, rolling aside when he struck again. Letting out a peal of laughter, she pounced on his back, biting his skin without the pressure to hurt, making him roll over again.
This was the best part of life, she thought to herself blissfully as they grew tired and lay on the ground. Hazel scooted over to rest her head on Streak's flank, purring.
Streak was her best friend ever. They did everything together. They played and trained and explored together. Declan and Twist still made her sleep in their den—like she was a kit!—but if they didn't, they could even live together. Hazel sighed at that idea.
"What's up?" Streak's voice was much deeper with her ear pressed to his side.
"I was thinking it would be great if we could have the same den."
"You shouldn't say things like that," he said, his voice sounding a bit embarrassed.
She rolled over, draping her forepaws over his flank. "Why not?"
Streak ruffled her ears with a forepaw. His eyes were patient and affectionate and very gold. "Because cats might get the wrong idea."
"What idea would that be?" she asked.
"You know. The not-the-meaning-you-mean meaning."
"What does that mean?"
Streak sighed. Laying his paw across her face heavily, he said, "You ask too many questions."
"Hmm." Hazel didn't know what he meant by that still. What could he be talking about? Well, it must not be important, she thought, her eyes drifting shut. After all, sleeping was just like napping, only longer.
When it got too late, Streak made her go back home. She didn't want to: she wanted to stay and play more, but she could tell that Streak was serious because he used her real name. So she went, unwillingly, dragging her paws, until they reached the split that divided them up: Streak went to the den he shared with Adder and she went up to the top of the den-place, to where Twist and Declan lived.
Twist wasn't home yet—she was probably out hunting—but Declan was there.
"I'm back," she said for greeting.
Declan stood. Purring, he touched his nose to hers. "How was your day?"
"It was okay." She flopped down in her corner; her nest was made completely of soft fluffy down feathers. They sank up to her eyes as she stretched out on her belly, her hind legs splayed behind her.
"What did you do?"
"Me and Streak hunting," she said.
"Hunted what?"
"Adder," she said mischievously. She turned her head to see Declan shaking his head slowly.
"You two get into so much trouble," he said. "Lucky's going to have to keep you busier to keep you in line."
"I wouldn't mind getting more things to do," she said. As it was, she only had to move bedding around. The hunters would bring it in and she'd divvy it up into piles. From there, another bunch of kits—Young cats, she corrected herself, preening—would come and take it away. There weren't many of them, just her, Owl and Spot, and the scrawny little gray kit named—of all things—Gray. Gray was too frail to lift anything but the lightest of bundles so he wasn't even any help.
Declan let out a hum of consideration. "I'll see if I can talk Lucky into letting you be a messenger. How about that?" He said this with a flourish, his green eyes sparkling.
In her mind, the image of herself, chest puffed out with importance, flashed. Maybe I'll be relaying battle plans, she thought ferociously. Or maybe even death sentences! "Okay!" she said.
As if he'd also been partial to her thoughts, he said, "You'd probably only be running between Flint and Lucky, you know."
She took this gracefully before saying indulgently, "Of course."
Declan was easier to appease with words than Twist was. With her, Hazel had to talk and talk until Twist was satisfied. Declan would be more open to having silences.
Speaking of, Hazel thought, detecting the light patter of Twist's steps at the den's entranceway. She lifted her head to see Twist enter, shaking off clinging leaves.
Declan went to her immediately, his tail high in the air. They touched noses, then pressed their foreheads together, closing their eyes and purring. They never even spoke. It was their usual custom.
"Shall I step outside and give you two a moment alone?" Hazel said, only half-teasing. As if she wanted to see two old cats nuzzling and cooing over each other. It was gross.
Twist broke apart without a whisker-twitch of embarrassment. "How nice it is to see you so perky, Hazel," she said, her slowed voice teasing. Hazel quirked an ear in response, looking away. "Ah, see, Declan," Twist said, leaning into his shoulder and pressing her cheek in his fur. "They grow up so fast. Now she'll be sneaking off and not speaking to us, trying to sort out her ever-growing list of kit problems."
"I'm not a kit," Hazel said immediately. "I'm eight moon cycles old. In two more, I'll—"
"Be a fully-fledged member of the Sliders," Declan finished for her, the light cadence of his voice surprisingly similar to her own. "Yes, we know. We're the ones who set it up, remember?"
"Yes," Hazel said. After a moment of rather shamed silence, she added, "Hello, Twist."
Twist purred softly. Bumping her snout against Hazel's head, she said, "Hello, scrap. Always in the best of moods, I see, when you're parted from that troublemaker Streak."
"Streak's not a troublemaker," she protested loyally.
Twist laughed once. She only ever laughed once. "I know. I'm just playing with you. Did you already eat? Are you hungry?"
"I ate with Streak."
"Did you eat enough? You need to make sure you're not hungry. In the coming moon cycles, you'll need the extra weight you can put on now. The hunting might not be as good."
"Is it bad normally?"
Twist and Declan shared a look. "Sometimes," Declan said, twitching his tail over her nose. "Lucky will make sure nothing bad happens."
Lucky always made sure bad things didn't happen. Or so everyone told her. It surely hadn't stopped her mother from leaving her.
But Hazel didn't bring that up to Twist. It always seemed to make Twist less likely to talk to her, to have a playful gleam in her eyes. Hazel thought Twist was a bit overbearing but she didn't want to hurt her feelings. After all, she was the closest thing Hazel had to a mother—not that she would ever tell her that.
Her mother had been pretty, they'd said. Not like her, though: she'd had ginger fur. Audrey was her name. She hadn't been seen since she'd dropped Hazel into Twist's paws and left. No one told the story like that, of course—no one told the story at all—so Hazel had to fill in the details herself. Streak had been there, too, so he knew what it was all about. He had been youngish but his memory had always been great, far better than Hazel's. It seemed she could get lost around the Warren if she didn't pay close enough attention. Streak had started to take different ways to exploit this weakness, his teasing quickly getting frustrating when he would mischievously stop giving her directions and leave her wandering in the box-nests forever.
Declan and Twist settled down to sleep in their corner and Hazel went back to hers. Collapsing in the downy nest, she kept her eyes open, watching the moonlight play across the bottom of the nest. It was peaceful, she thought, but she didn't want peace. She wanted adventure. And that wasn't going to happen with her just lying around in the den.
She got to her paws, casting a quick glance behind her to make sure Declan and Twist were sleeping. It was always easy to tell: Declan slept with his mouth half-open and Twist's paws would twitch. Pleased that they were already so deeply sleeping, Hazel stepped over Declan's trailing tail and out into the Warren.
The night air was crisper than it had been earlier. There still wasn't the bite to it that Declan told her would happen when it was almost the cold-season. Snow would come, then. That would be very exciting, Hazel thought.
She padded down the trail, trying her best to look like she belonged there. She didn't run into anyone but Violet, who nodded rather nervously to her. Accompanying her was the black tom Ren, who was always ready to play. He gave her a friendly flick of his tail as she passed, leaning in close to whisper something to Violet.
Streak was lying down with his eyes closed but he wasn't sleeping. He didn't sleep very well at night. Something about bad dreams, he'd told Hazel.
She poked him in the face.
He groaned. Cracking his eyes open, he said, "You should go back to your den, Patch."
"I want to go outside." She didn't even realize the words were true until they were already out of her mouth.
Streak jolted up. Shooting a glance to where Adder lay sleeping, he hissed, "You shouldn't say that kind of stuff around him. Come on." He bustled her outside, down the path, and around to a cleft in the box-nests where they wouldn't be overheard.
"What's wrong with that?" she whispered back. "Just a peek. No one will even see me."
"That's not the point," he said, sounding more severe than usual. "You can't go outside. It's…dangerous!"
"You told me it wasn't dangerous."
"Well… I may have downplayed it. The world is a very dangerous place. You should just go back up and go to sleep, okay?"
Hazel sighed. "Come on, Catch. I just want to take a look. I'll go by myself if you don't come with me."
"I'll tell Lucky," he warned.
She narrowed her eyes. "You won't," she declared.
He stood staunchly for a moment before his shoulders sank. "No," he agreed. "I won't. But it's not because I'm not worried about you."
"Just come with me," she pled. "I've never been outside. I just want a look."
Streak hesitated. She saw all she needed in that moment of wavering.
"Yes!" She bounced in a small circle, her tail waving. "Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Catch, I knew there was a reason that I love you!" She pressed her face against his, purring loudly.
"Yes, yes." His voice was muted, his fur spiked along his back. "Enough of that. One look and then we're back inside. Got it?"
"Got it!" She let out a little squeak of excitement. "Sorry. Wow. I'm really excited. Let's go. Let's go now."
Behind her, Streak let out a soft groan. "They are so going to have my tail for this one," he muttered. "Come on. Let's go see the glorious and highly overrated outside."
XXXXXXX
Outside wasn't overrated at all. It was awesome.
Hazel couldn't stop staring. Standing in the center of the small place Streak had brought her, multicolored leaves hanging in beautiful patches above her head, she couldn't do anything but stare, her mouth half-open, as the majesty of it all filled her vision.
Streak was twitchy. He kept looking over his shoulder, as if he was expecting someone. But no one ever came outside at this time of night. They would be perfectly, beautifully free for these few moments.
Hazel bounced over to him. "I want to see water," she said.
"Water?" He flicked his tail, his eyes shifting to the ground. "Why?"
"I only ever see that shell thing in Flint's den. I want to see natural water." She spun in a tight circle, adrenaline making her head spin wonderfully. "Please? Please, please?"
Streak sighed and Hazel heard victory in the sound. "You're going to get me in trouble!"
"We can be quick," Hazel promised. She fell into step beside him, her side brushing his. Closing her eyes in blissful happiness, she trotted along, carefree.
Water, it turned out, was much larger than she had imagined.
The river ran full-force in front of her, churning gray and blue and white. Rocks poked up out of the center, like jagged teeth, and water poured into small whirlpools, set spinning with red and orange leaves.
Hazel looked at one of these very closely. Her reflection was very distorted here but she could still see the outline of her ears and face. In the bottom of the whirlpool was a small rock, twirling on end.
"Hey, look at this!" She looked up when Streak didn't respond.
He was standing atop a rock, the slope of his shoulders more alert than usual. His eyes were looking off in the distance, fixated on some point across the river. He struck an oddly-regal figure against the white moon sky, looking far older than Hazel ever thought him.
Then he looked down to her and he was her Streak again, light playing in his yellow eyes.
"What was that?" he asked.
"I said look here."
He came obediently, his ears politely interested. But Hazel thought something was off about him. Why had he been so serious before?
She glanced over his shoulder as he inspected the whirlpool, looking in the direction he'd been staring. "Did you see something over there?"
"What?" he asked, but he had heard her.
Suspicious now, Hazel just said, "In the pool, I mean. Do you see the rock?" She watched his face closely.
"It's neat. The current does it, you know. The wind can do similar stuff with leaves." His expression was still open, friendly, but there was something hidden in his eyes that she didn't like.
She thought she could hide it very well, though.
"Now I want to see the bank," she declared. "It is called the bank, right?"
"Riverbank, yes," he said, with the obvious intent to correct her.
She rolled her eyes.
As she pretended to be interested in the river—well, pretended harder: she was already fascinated by the whole thing—she kept her eyes on the distant shore. Something was up. She just didn't know what.
They had gotten to where the stones made a short path across the water when she said, "I want to cross."
"What?" he yelped. "No, Patch. We're going home now."
"We're already out, aren't we?" she said. "Let's go a bit further."
"No. Twist and Declan are already going to strangle me if they find out. Not to mention Lucky or my father." He took a small step back towards the Warren. "Come on. Let's go now."
"I just want to check out the other side," she said. "Please?"
Streak closed his eyes. "Hazel. No. We're—"
There was a whisper of sound through the undergrowth.
Immediately, Streak reached with his forepaw and shunted her backwards, putting himself protectively between them and the noise. Hazel, hiding with sudden fear behind him, noticed again how much older he looked when he was serious, how his back suddenly seemed wider, his shoulders taller. His expression was so much colder.
Streak's ears were pricked and alert as he stared in the direction. Then one flicked to the side as another rustle sounded across the river.
"We need to go." His words were almost soundless. "Now."
"Okay," Hazel said, her chest tight with fear. She watched him turn, his eyes still on the far bank, and then crept closer to him. His presence was always soothing for bad dreams or fights with Twist, but this was something else entirely: a real, natural fear from something that had the potential to hurt her. It was terrifying.
Maybe Twist was right to keep me inside, she thought.
They hurried back up the embankment but at the top, Hazel saw it: a flash of pelt. She gasped loudly, against her will, which made Streak wheel around.
"We're being followed," he said, confirming her fear. He pushed her into the woods, to where a fallen log blocked the way. The roots bristled outwards, grasping at the sky, leaving a pocket of space between the trunk and the floor.
Streak pushed her down into the little alcove, scuffing a few leaves in front of it to hide her.
"If you hear someone coming, close your eyes," he said, echoing what Twist and Declan had always told her. "I'll be back."
"Wait," she begged in a whisper. "Don't leave me here."
His eyes softened. He gently touched his nose to her forehead. "I'll be right back. Just stay here." And then he was gone with a light patter of paws.
Hazel watched him go with a feeling of overwhelming dread. Her breath was quick and shallow in her throat. It felt like she couldn't get enough air, that the roots around her would close in and crush her. She gasped for air now, her chest heaving.
There was a sound outside the roots.
She closed her eyes immediately, curling her body in on herself. Her tail brushed silkily against her nose as she pressed closer, trying to make herself disappear.
The sound increased in volume until it was clearly a set of paws walking. A cat. Alone. Hazel had had enough training to be able to discern that.
The smell hit her next: mud; cat; male. A smell that was like crushed pine needles, sharp and pungent.
Maybe if I'm perfectly still, he won't see me. She thanked everything in the world that she hadn't inherited her mother's ginger fur: dark brown fur could make her disappear right into the dirt. Hopefully.
"Hello." The voice was soft, pleasant, musical.
Oh no. "Hello," she greeted, eyes still clamped tightly shut.
"May I ask what you're doing?" He sounded amused. He was young, with a light voice.
"Um." She didn't know exactly how to explain this. I'm hiding here because I think my friend thinks you're an enemy, so it would be nice if you left me alone so I could continue to hide here. Thanks. "Sleeping."
He laughed. His laugh was longer than Twist's. "You've picked quite a strange place to sleep, friend."
Friend. That was something Lucky always called cats.
She didn't say anything in return.
"You wouldn't happen to be from the Warren, are you?"
"Why does that matter?" she said defensively.
He laughed again. "That sounds like a resounding yes."
"You sound like a resounding nosey cat."
"That's really the best you can do?" He sounded a bit disappointed.
Hazel gritted her teeth. "I'm not supposed to talk to you."
"Oh? Why not?"
"I don't know you."
"I can fix that," he said easily. "I'm Kale."
"Kale?"
"Kale," he said, sounding amused. "And you?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to you, remember?"
"But we've been talking for awhile now. And your friend hasn't returned yet."
She felt an immediate surge of anger. "If you've hurt him, I'll—"
"I wouldn't dream of hurting him," he said seriously. "I only made a little distraction so I could talk to you."
That surprised her. "To me?"
"That's unusual?"
"What's unusual?"
He let out a little humming sound. "That a tom would want to talk to a beautiful she-cat?"
A hot flush spread through her. "You…you shouldn't say things like that!"
"Are you denying that you're beautiful?"
"Yes! No! I… You just shouldn't say things like that!" She turned away, putting her face against the roots. "Leave me alone now! I'm going to get into trouble."
"Yes," Kale said. "Lucky will be mad."
"He will," she agreed. Then a thought hit her. "No, I don't know Lucky." The main question that was running through her head was how this random tom knew Lucky. Were the Sliders that well-known in this forest?
Kale purred. "So convincing. You could be a regular liar."
"I don't lie," she spat. She didn't want to talk to this weird young tom who teased her and made fun of her and called her beautiful. She wished that Streak would come back soon and scare him away.
That made him shut up. After a long pause, Kale said, "How intriguing."
"Do you come across liars often? Being a…a bad cat?"
He laughed, a soft hushed sound. "I'm not a bad cat. In fact, I'd imagine you'd like me if you would look at me."
"I'm not supposed to open my eyes."
"Why not?"
That struck her. Twist had never told her that much. "I'm just not."
"There seems to be a lot of things you're not supposed to do but you're doing anyway, friend."
"Stop calling me that. We're not friends."
"Okay," Kale said easily. "What shall I call you instead?"
She didn't fall for it this time. "Nothing."
"Okay, Nothing."
"Huh?"
"You said to call you Nothing so I'll call you Nothing." Kale's voice was infuriatingly amused. "Shall I call you something else, Nothing, or are you pleased with that name selection?"
"Slow down, you talk too fast."
"I'm sorry," he said but he didn't sound very sorry. "I'm used to getting all my words out quickly so I can talk more."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't talk so much. It gets annoying."
"You haven't stopped talking to me, so I'll assume it's an effective tactic." He let out an upset sound, half-sigh, half-hum. "I hear your friend returning. I guess this means I'll leave."
"Bye," she said shortly.
"I get the feeling you want me to leave."
"You're just now getting that feeling? Most would have gotten it a lot sooner."
"You are a very outspoken she-cat. I like that."
"You're being creepy. Please leave." But now it felt like banter, like between her and Streak. This tom, for all his strangeness and seeming friendliness, was very personable, charismatic even. It was highly unusual. And Hazel found herself very drawn to his oddness.
Kale laughed once more. "Okay, I'll go. But I'd really like to know your name. Just for future reference."
"You won't need it," she said, turning around. Through the shadows, she half-opened her eyes, making sure the shine of the moon couldn't catch across them.
Twist's words echoed in her head: Never open your eyes in danger. Stay hidden, stay down, stay safe.
But for some reason, she felt extra daring in this tom's presence.
As she'd thought, he was young. Only a few moon cycles older than her. His fur, weirdly enough, was covered with a layer of mud that ran in streaks down his sides like tabby stripes. His eyes were very bright blue.
"Ah!" Kale said, flicking his tail up in happiness. "You trust me now?"
"No," she said, watching with half-lidded eyes. "I don't."
"That's shame." But he didn't sound downtrodden. "I have to go. Your name?"
Hazel warred with herself for a moment. She didn't know this tom, nothing about him at all. Streak would disapprove so much it might bend him in half, and she knew that Twist and Declan would be furious.
Maybe that was why she did it.
"Hazel," she said.
"Hazel," Kale repeated. "I'll remember that. Goodbye, Hazel."
Then just like that, he disappeared. With one flick of his tail and a scattering of pawsteps, he was gone.
"Oh, thank goodness you're alright." Streak's face was in front of her suddenly. There was a smudge of mud across his nose. "Did anything happen?"
"Did you catch someone?"
He shook his head. "They ran faster than me. I'll…I'll find a way to report this to Lucky. I'll make something up." He rolled his shoulders, wincing a bit. Then his eyes widened. "You didn't…you didn't see anyone did you?"
Hazel thought for a moment, looking into his wide honest eyes. He was keeping something from her. She knew that. It hurt her feelings.
So she made up her mind.
"No," she said, crawling out to follow him back to camp. "I didn't see anyone."
Yay! A full chapter!
Sorry it took me so long but, like, I wrote a novel. XD Now I have to go back and ferociously edit it, though. I'm gonna send out some queries soon to see if I can get an actual book published. That would be so amazing. *_*
Also, did any of you guys get a recommendation to read me from some other FFnet author? Like, I got a huge amount of reviews and hits and stuff right around the same time. Is someone FFnet-famous out there reading Float or something? XD
Can people be FFnet-famous?
:O
Am I FFnet-famous?
These are the questions that haunt me.
Alright, enough enough. XD
R&R~
Shadow
