"I'm telling you, Ruffledwing," Molefoot hissed, his voice low to avoid detection from the rest of the patrol. His friend glared at him, waving Ivypaw away when she bounced up to talk to him and show him the mouse she'd caught. Molefoot tried to ignore the little she-cat's hurt expression, mewing for her to go show her prey to Eagleclaw before turning to his friend again.
"Frost isn't a bad cat, she's just…" He paused, and Ruffledwing shot him an impatient, pressing look. Well she's not a total idiot. She does have whatever it is planned out, I think…
"She's a menace," his friend declared, and Molefoot couldn't help but feel anger prickling at the tips of his fur. Frost wasn't dangerous- not to the Clans, at least. Maybe to individuals. Like Ruffledwing.
"She is not! She's just misguided, is all. Look, I doubt StarClan would give her any lives should her Clan thing work out, so she's honestly not a threat," the brown warrior said, an edge of confidence in his voice. No matter how good a cat Frost was, the idea of a new Clan was just… Frankly, ridiculous.
Molefoot couldn't see it ever getting off the ground, not to mention that he still firmly believed no cat could survive on the mountain without help. When he used to eavesdrop on Eagleclaw and Mottledstar as an apprentice, he'd heard them complaining about their positions too.
Even if it was light-hearted, the two toms clearly stressed over their work and the toll that came with it.
The ginger tom at his side sighed impatiently. They were edging away from the group now, Eagleclaw and Ivypaw far ahead of them. Ruffledwing's voice was just below his normal volume when he spoke next. "I don't know, Molefoot. I saw a couple of cats get starry-eyed when she got up there," he gruffed, and Molefoot blinked. Ruffledwing turned to him, eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. "You were one of them, so I should know."
His heart froze, though Molefoot knew perfectly well that it had no reason to. His pads sweat anxiously. He had only been amazed at seeing Frost all grown-up. Not any other reason. None.
"I-I was just surprised, I wasn't starry-eyed in the least," he said, his voice sounding faraway and false to his own ears.
Ruffledwing snorted, glancing ahead to see if Eagleclaw was out of sight before starting, "You've always been a terrible liar, Mole."
The shortened version of his name made his fur prickle uneasily when said by his friend; he almost felt sick. He stepped away slightly, hoping Ruffledwing took his raised lip as a scowl of irritation rather than disgust.
"I'm not lying. It was surprising," he said roughly, turning away when his friend tried to move to face him.
Ruffledwing looked like he was about to say something, but froze, his ears perking up. Molefoot heard the loud crashing in the undergrowth almost a second later, someone coming towards them. They were upwind, he couldn't tell who it was, but with the way whoever it was flailed through the prickly briars and dead leaves they were not from FeatherClan.
Ruffledwing had drawn back, his curly fur bristling along his spine, and Molefoot reacted much the same, his claws digging anxiously into the ground while they waited for whoever (or whatever) it was to crash out of the underbrush at them.
It took several heartbeats, but finally a small-ish brown tabby she-cat burst out, her blue eyes wide and her fur bristling. A long scratch, still lightly bleeding, stretched across her nose and cheeks. She looked like she'd been running for a while, and the cut was probably from a stray thorn… But still, Molefoot bowed up further, his spine so tense he thought it might snap. The she-cat opened her mouth and Ruffledwing snarled, silencing her. When he made to flee, the ginger tom stepped in her path, big and intimidating. She cowered before them; Molefoot could see her shaking.
His eyes were narrowed and sharp as yellow flint when he spat the question, "Who are you and why are you on FeatherClan territory?"
The she-cat turned wide blue eyes on him, her ears swiveled towards Ruffledwing as though to keep tabs on him.
"My name is M-Mayfly, and I'm l-looking for someone!" she said, her voice high-pitched with fear. Her tail curled around to her side protectively, her dainty white paws stained with mud.
Ruffledwing scoffed and Molefoot's ears flicked. "Who could possibly be worth intruding on Clan cat territory for?" he demanded, and she shrank away from the abrasive tone.
She looked as soft as a kittypet and he wouldn't doubt that she wasn't one. Probably one of those idealistic pudgeballs who thought they could fall in love with a Clan cat or some nonsense. GoldClan may allow that, but FeatherClan sure as stars wouldn't.
"Get back to your twolegs, runt," Ruffledwing snarled, tail disturbing some of the leaves behind him when it lashed. The noise scared the she-cat further, her chin now resting on her paws.
"But I'm l-looking for someone!" she objected, her voice suddenly loud. Molefoot winced and his friend growled again, looking ready to claw the foolish cat's ears.
"S-someone sent me t-to look for someone! S-someone named Molepaw!" she squeaked, cowering when Ruffledwing lunged at her. The ginger tom stopped himself mid-pounce, falling awkwardly to the side but quickly recovering. Molefoot's heart sank when narrowed amber eyes landed on him.
He quickly strode to Mayfly's side, easily pushing her over and onto her side. The she-cat's fur was luxuriously soft, and she struggled under the weight of his paw on her throat, legs curling in as though to protect her belly.
The brown warrior lowered his face until he could feel her labored breath against his whiskers. "Who sent you?" he asked in a sharp hiss, and she stammered for several moments, squealing as the paw was pressed harder into her throat.
For one moment Molefoot considered sinking his claws into her and watching her bleed out over the forest floor, but then she spoke again, her eyes bluer than the cloudless sky above and painfully earnest as she rasped out, "Frost."
Instantly Molefoot stiffened, bloodlust draining from his veins. Why would Frost send for him? Why would she send some other cat to talk to him? Why not Aspen, then? Had something happened?
His mind swam with questions and before he knew it Mayfly was no longer under his paws, him having taken several steps back. He didn't bother to glance at Ruffledwing.
"Why?" he breathed, and Mayfly scrambled to her previous position, crouched in front of him.
"I found her in the woods, she n-needed help, she told me to find a Molepaw cat in the wild territory-"
He cut her off by raising his tail, resolve now burning in his heart.
"I'm Molepaw. Molefoot," he corrected, and the look of relief that flooded the she-cat's face was enough to make guilt at his earlier thoughts sink sharp claws in his belly.
"Where is she?"
Ruffledwing objected then, having been silent during the ordeal. Molefoot turned to him and the other tom began ranting. "You can't seriously be considering going? She's a lunatic! She's crazy! She's going to kill you!"
Molefoot's jaw set in irritation, and Mayfly gently pushed at him. She probably couldn't hunt to save her life. The reminder was clear: please hurry.
"I'm going. If nothing just to check it out. And I'm going to be fine, she has no experience on me and she needs help."
Ruffledwing's jaws parted, a look of disbelief shining in his eyes. Molefoot cut him off, "Don't tell anyone, okay? I promise I'll explain everything when I get back, I promise," he said, and let Mayfly walk past him. Ruffledwing bristled but didn't attack, still looking shocked at his friend's behavior.
"Lead the way," he said to the tabby, and she nodded, looking relieved and much more confident now that she didn't have two trained warriors glaring down at her. She took off, bumbling through the undergrowth again, and Molefoot turned to Ruffledwing one last time.
"I'm coming back soon. I'll give you news then, okay?"
He pretended not to be bothered by the look of heartbroken outrage on his best friend's face when he turned and ran after Mayfly.