Broken Ice - Chapter 14

I don't own Warriors.

So sorry that I haven't updated in a while.

And Then It Got Worse

Truthfully, good days are hard to come by.

Falcon and I followed Dove's scent back to the spot where Pire, Lithe and I had bumped into Fallen Shadow and Rose Thorn earlier that day. Even though Dove hadn't been present during the confrontation, it was certainly easy for her to follow the scent trails our patrol had left in our wake. However, when we reached the site of the meeting with the other rogues, it was empty. Falcon didn't stop – he didn't realize the significance of his area. I slowed to a halt, and began to look around curiously. My jaw instinctively dropped open to taste the air. Dove's scent was thick here – she's spent a few minutes here not too long ago. However, the scent then branched off, heading in the direction where Fallen Shadow and Rose Thorn had disappeared.

Fear clawed at my heart.

Dove . . . don't be doing what I think you're doing!

"Falcon, c'mon! We gotta go," I called, taking off after Dove's scent. I wasn't so much as running – that was practically impossible for me – but more like . . . awkwardly loping along like a lame horse.

Falcon must have smelt the same thing I did, for he bolted right past me, continuing after Dove's trail. I wanted to go faster – I wanted to be able to run like a normal cat for once in my pathetic life. My friend's life depended on it. But I couldn't. I physically could not complete that task.

Now, some cats, if they were in my paws, would have gotten offended with Falcon took off without me. But not me. I knew that I was useless. I knew that I was like a duck with an injured wing trying to fly. And I didn't blame Falcon for sprinting past me. I probably would have done the same knowing that my friend was in serious danger. In fact, I know I would have.

By the time I stopped and caught my breath, then ran again, then stopped again, then ran again, then stopped again, then ran again, I finally caught up to Falcon. There was no question that we were on enemy territory now – the scent of Fallen Shadow's cats was overwhelming. Falcon was crouched low underneath a mulberry bush, looking around like a shifty, cornered fox. I swiftly trotted over and slid in beside him.

"Where's Dove?" I whispered.

Falcon gave me a friendly lick on the shoulder. "Glad you made it," he mewed before answering my question, "I think that Dove is in there," he flicked his tail toward a small depression in the ground that seemed to be surrounded by brambles. It reminded me of the MarshClan camp, and I had no idea how I felt about that. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't homesickness. "I think that it's their camp."

I nodded. It made sense. "Okay . . . are we going to try to get in? Or . . . at least see what's going on?"

Falcon nodded in the affirmative, and we slowly crept closer to the bramble wall that loomed before us. As we neared, I heard Dove's voice from inside the camp. My stomach clenched. Dove, no. Don't you dare do something stupid! "You can't drive us out," Dove said. Her voice was defiant and stubborn. "We can share the land, can't we? Prey isn't that scarce around here. Our cats can live in peace together. It doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to drive us out, and we don't have to fight you to keep what we have." She sounded so distressed – on the borderline of panic. "Look, there is enough prey to go around – we can share! It doesn't have to resort to this!"

We paused at the edge of the camp. I wished I could see what was going on, who was there, how many were there, and if Dove really needed saving. If it was just Fallen Shadow and Rose Thorn, she would have had a chance, but it there were more than two cats . . . Falcon tapped my shoulder with his tail and proceeded to motion toward a hole in the barrier that surrounded it. I gave him a swift nod before crawling forward – we were both crouched so low that we might as well have been lying down. My belly dragged across the ground as we approached the break in the brambles. My heart was in my throat. I was worried about Dove, yes, but there was a selfish part of me that was scared for myself. If someone saw us – if they found us – Falcon would be able to flee. He could run for a good sky-length or so before collapsing, out of breath. I might only be able to manage a few fox-lengths at a sprint before having an attack.

Upon peering through the hole, I saw Dove standing in what I believed was the center of their camp. It was surprisingly bare – nothing like the MarshClan camp. There were no significant or noticeable dens, no ferns or shrubbery to lie under during a shower or on a particularly hot sunhigh. It was just bare; empty. There wasn't even a meeting place – somewhere where all the cats would go to assemble. They aren't a Clan, I reminded myself. And they weren't; they were nothing like the Clans. There didn't seem to be any sense of order. Cats of different sizes, ages, and pelt colors were crowded around Dove, blocking her from view. I couldn't even spot Fallen Shadow in the crowd. He is their leader . . . isn't he?

Another thing I noticed: these cats were skin and bone. Fallen Shadow and Rose Thorn, while wild and rugged like the rest of us, were muscular. They were well-fed with relatively glossy, healthy pelts. But not the rest of their group. They looked haggard, exhausted, malnourished, and ready to fall over at any moment. Bones jutted out around their shoulder blades and their hips. Ribs masqueraded under thick pelts, only rarely poking through when the cats would shift or stretch. They were starving. Fallen Shadow and Rose Thorn looked so . . . well off. This is why they are so fiercely fighting for this territory. They have a group of starving cats to feed . . . But why? Why did they look so sleek and strong while their group looks like a band of walking death?

"Does it look like we're in a position to share!" a she-cat snarled at Dove. I saw a glimpse of her in the crowd. She was bony like the rest of them, but her teats were swollen with milk. Her pelt was patched and, even from a distance, looked coarse and ragged. "I have kits to feed! I need to think of them, and if you and your buddies are out there taking prey that should be ours, then what? What will I tell them when they suddenly have to go hungry?"

Dove must have shied away from the she-cat, for I saw her briefly come into view before stepping behind another cat. "Look, I don't know where you came from before, and i can't imagine the kind of life you had, but—"

"Don't pity me!" the she-cat hissed.

"I wasn't," Dove quickly amended. "All I'm saying is that there is enough food here for everyone!"

"Maybe now," a tom spoke. "But what happens when we all start eating it? What happens when this 'bounty' is consumed? We won't be able to survive here - not with extra mouths that aren't even our own taking precious food!"

Dove stepped into view again. She seemed to be looking around that the cats, surveying the situation. I could tell by the way she stood, and by the way her tail was lashing that she was beginning to lose her patience. She had come here in desperation - to try to get them to listen, and now they were ignoring her. They didn't want to hear what she had to say and it was making her angry. They weren't even giving her a chance and Dove was not the kind of cat that was okay with being ignored. Watch yourself, Dove, I thought. Don't tick them off. Please.

"Will you listen to me? Will you just consider the idea that there might be enough for everyone?" she said, her voice beginning to transition into a hiss.

"There isn't enough!" a tom – a different one than before – snarled.

Dove's pelt began to bristle. My breath hitched. "Whether there is, or there isn't," she meowed. I could hear the waver in her voice; she was trying so hard to keep calm. "My cats were here first."

Yowls and cries of outrage erupted from the surrounding cats. Falcon and I exchanged a terrified look. This was not going well. Get outta there, Dove!

"Enough!" a new voice caterwauled above all the others. The cats immediately went silent. I watched with bated breath as a dark brown tabby tom stepped into the center of the crowd. I recognized him instantly; Fallen Shadow. He'd spoken at last. He cocked his head to the side as he examined Dove standing there. I saw my friend shake, but not in rage anymore – in fear. "Your name is Dove, correct?"

Dove nodded, not daring to say a word.

"Well, Dove," he spat her name with great contempt. "This conversation bores me, and your insolence insults me."

My friend straightened up, her green eyes narrowed. Her scar looked significantly gruesome. "You're Fallen Shadow?"

"You're not in the position to ask questions!" the group's leader growled.

"Are you?"

"And if I am?"

Dove sneered at him. "Because if you are, I just want to know that your ignorance insults me. You repel me. Your group disgusts me. You stand here and your well-fed and your group is starving! What do you do? Hoard all of the food your group catches it and eat it yourself? Are you really—"

I nearly cried out as Fallen Shadow suddenly raised his paw. Before Dove could even register what happened, his claws had sliced across her throat. Blood spurted from the wound like some kind of fountain. I lunged forward, ready to sink my teeth into the son of a badger's flesh when Falcon grabbed me by the scruff. I let out a growl that sounded half furious and half devastated.

I wanted to yowl. I wanted to cry out in anguish and in rage but I knew that I had to keep quiet. If I made any noise, Fallen Shadow's cats would immediately be alerted to our location. As Falcon dragged me away from the camp, I felt hot tears stream down my cheeks.

A/N: Thanks for reading!