Response to recent questions and complaints;
Blackclaw: I figured it was close enough.
DarkWolfScourge: I'm not exactly good with romance, but if you really want, then I'll try.
Shinyzoroark13: Scar is a small black tom with blue eyes.
To pretty much everyone: I'll try to update more, but I just haven't been in the writing mood lately.
ATTENTION READERS: For future chapters, I need one WindClan tom, either apprentice or warrior.
-Falconface
Different
The harsh cold wind tore at Scar's pelt, and he shivered despite his body being already numb. We're going to die. The thought didn't scare him. It was the same thing he had thought when he was a kit, after being abandoned by his mother. But that time someone had come and saved him.
"We have to find shelter!" Frost called. "Or we'll die out here."
They'd only been here for about two days. Yet already they were on the brink of death.
Scar searched the cliffs around, but didn't see a crack in the bleak surface. That was when the wind suddenly brought a trace of blood. "This way!" He didn't know if the others heard him, but they seemed to understand.
As the scent grew stronger, a small opening in the rock came into view. Scar squeezed through after checking for any movement. Inside was dark and quiet. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he was able to make out shapes, but nothing more.
Just as Scar took a step inside, his paw slipped on the slick surface. He leaned down close to the floor, and sniffed. Blood. The entire cave was coated in it.
EmberClan's scent lingered on the stones, making his fur rise. His vision cleared more, catching sight of bodies scattered through the entire inside. There was no telling how long ago the attack was. It could have happened just barely, or a few days ago.
With renewed energy, he began sniffing through the carcasses, looking for the faintest traces of life. The Fallen filed in behind him, and did the same after taking in the surroundings.
He searched through every nick in the cave, but every cat had a deep wound on their neck or other vital spot. Not one had been spared.
After a bit more searching, they stopped, too starving and tired to continue. The Fallen managed to find remains of a fresh-kill pile, and ate whatever they could. It gave them just enough energy to continue searching. They checked the bodies, and checked again, even searching outside. Everyone was dead. There was no survivor. It wasn't because they were too late either. The kills were obvious.
"Why?" Dawn whispered. "All this time there has always been one."
Everyone was stunned as well. Nothing like this had ever happened before.
"We had to have missed something!" Sky's voice was almost pleading.
Scar couldn't help but notice how the apprentice didn't complain about Night as much. It was if something else had taken over her thoughts.
"We-" Fire was cut off as a small sound came from outside.
The Fallen all faced the entrance, as a strange face appeared, followed by more. "Who are you?" Birch stepped forward, his head held high.
A dark grey tom, who's pelt was smeared with mud, was the first to speak. "I'm Stoneteller, from The Tribe of Rushing Water."
...
Flamefall woke, the barn missing the presence of the two other cats. It wasn't a surprise. With a yawn, he stood and stretched, licking straw from his fur.
Flickers of sunlight flooded the rafters above, highlighting movement in the hay. Without another thought, he left, not bothering to wait for anyone to return.
He hesitated outside, as the grass shifted, barely noticeable. Flamefall glared at the tall stalks. "Come out." His tone made it clear that something bad would happen if the stranger didn't obey.
A small white and brown patched tom, barely old enough to be an apprentice, emerged, head bent deeply in respect. He wasn't from EmberClan, probably belonging to one of the clans they enslaved. "Bloodfang wanted me to make sure you were safe."
Flamefall wasn't irritated with Bloodfang. In fact, this was just what he needed. "What is your name?"
"Jumppaw" The tom mumbled.
"Well, Jumppaw, I have a message for you to take back to Bloodfang. Tell him to hurry and finish the job. Trouble is coming, and if he can't handle it, I'll ask Emberstar to intervene." At the mention of that name, Jumpaw fidgeted a little. The apprentice had heard too many rumours about EmberClan's ruthless leader.
"Yes, sir." The young tom was surprisingly fast as he darted away.
Flamefall watched him disappear, before turning the opposite way. Everything always went as planned. And in the end, this would all pay off. It was surprising though. Most of the warriors knew little about the plan, but were willing to follow none the less.
They're loyal to the end. He thought. And fools because of it.
...
Fire watched as water cascaded over the edge of a cliff, many fox-lengths above. Stoneteller had lead them quickly through the mountains. It was surprising how any cat could live here.
He continued following the tom inside, feeling his fur dampen from the spray of the falls. Inside was hollow, with rock sticking out of the floor and ceiling like claws.
Eyes turned toward the Fallen, some curious, some afraid. Queens ushered their kits into a small entrance in the rock, and apprentices scurried back and forth.
"Brook! Stormfur!" He called. Two figures, a tom and a she-cat, made their way towards them. "Please take care of our guests. I'd like to talk to the leader privately."
Fire followed the mud covered tom into a smaller cave at the back. Inside was small, and the pointed columns of stone were more plentiful. "This is the cave of pointed stones, where we speak with The Tribe of Endless Hunting." The leader sat down, and turned to him. "What is your name?"
"Fire, leader of The Fallen. Are there any survivors from that cave?" He knew what the answer would be already.
"No." He wasn't unkind, but seemed a little nervous. "Why are you here?"
Fire launched into the story he had told many times before. The healer became less and less hostile after knowing The Fallen posed no threat.
"I'm sorry for our unkindness. If there is anything I can do, tell me." Stoneteller was still distracted, knowing the deaths of their neighbours could have been their own.
Fire thanked him, and left, wandering over to where the rest of The Fallen waited. Things were taking a turn for the worst.
...
Scar tossed in his nest, another dream taking over his thoughts. He shivered deeply, letting out limp calls as his tiny kit body froze in the swirling storm. His mother had left, and his only shelter was a small shrub that wasn't doing much better than he was.
His ear still stung, from where his mother clawed him, and the hot scent of blood clouded his nose.
The cats his mother promised would come, still hadn't shown. The numbness in his body took over, and his conscious drifted, before snapping back as paws crunched in the snow.
"Hawkthorn, I smell blood!" Called a strange voice.
"It's probably just wounded prey, Puddlepaw." This tone was older.
The steps came closer, until they were right outside the bush. A small pink nose pushed it's way in, followed by a dappled face. "It's a kit!"
The stranger was she-cat, with a splotched grey face, and a fluffy pelt. Immediately a brown tom was beside her, looking at him with surprise. "What's a kit doing here?"
"Let's take him back to camp." The she-cat suggested. "His injuries will need tending to." Teeth grasped his scruff, and he was dragged out, fur brushing against the powdered snow. "All of them seem to be claw marks. There's a fresh one on his ear that will need treating."
He was too weak to say anything, but simply stayed limp in their grip. "We'll take him back with us. SnakeClan's leader can decide what to do after that." Hawkthorn ordered.
As always, I hope this chapter is good, and hope you all look forward to the next one!
Please review and let me know what you think!
Up next; Will Night make it to the clans, or will EmberClan stop her?