Russet fur bristled in the darkness, claws scraping against stone and green eyes glowing with rage in the dim light.
They flickered outside, beyond the entrance of the small cave he dwelled in, where he could see them.
The others.
They whispered among each other, their eyes glancing to his den each and every second.
But none saw his gaze.
"Traitors..." He sneered softly. "All of them..."
He shifted in his den, pressing against the back wall where he could feel a soft trail of wind blowing on his spine.
An exit from his cave.
"Feather..." He growled softly, turning to it. "They wouldn't kill you... would they? No... Sand... she wouldn't do that to you... you're needed... Sand knows what you'll do, and she needs it..."
His fur bristled.
"But they hurt her... I can feel it in my bones; they hurt you, didn't they?"
There was a small yip from outside, and green eyes flickered to the entrance of the den.
Two similarly russet colored pelts dashed in, but they were not like the one that stood before them.
These two creatures had narrow snouts and large ears, and dark beady eyes.
"You've returned," the russet wolf snarled quietly, to the two foxes that stood before him. "Did you find her?"
"Yessir," the one to the left replied, it's voice gravelly but high pitched. "She's been lying in the valley for a couple of days now. She's all cut up—"
"All cut up!" The other one piped in. "All bloody and cut up! Smells so good! Wanna eat!"
It barely dodged the blow that the russet wolf cast it, his lips drawn back in a snarl.
"No!" He sneers. "No eat. No eating her. Watch her. Keep an eye on her. If she begins to die—"
"Then we eat?" Asks the fox, looking up at him with curiosity despite how it shied away from him.
"No," he shook his head. "I'll hunt you food. If she begins to die, you bring her to me."
"But she doesn't trust you, sir," says the one to the left, his pelt ruffled as he watches the russet wolf carefully. "You've done bad things."
"Haha! Really bad! Haha, Scorch did bad! Hahaha!" The fox on the ground earned a scratch on the cheek for his taunting, but not from Scorch. From the other fox.
"Hush it, Vix," the fox sneered to the other. "Scorch has had a rough time. You know that!"
"Wild is not for the weak of heart," Vix snipped. "Scorch said that himself, but Scorch now wants to save Feather? Isn't Vex curious to why?"
The other fox, Vex, glances at Scorch, before sighing.
"We follow your orders, Scorch," he growls. "You feed us. You gave us home. And when we asked to refrain from fighting the Clan cats, you allowed us to stay home, despite Shadow's orders."
Scorch doesn't reply at first, instead turning away.
He brings his paw up to rough scratches on the wall.
"Do you know what this says?" He growls quietly, to the foxes.
"Nossir," replies Vex.
"Yessir!" Cackles Vix.
"These markings..." Scorch's fur bristles, and claw met stone, as his dull nails scraped over the scratchings on the wall. "I can't let them come true..."
He turned to them.
"Watch Feather," he growls. "And tell me everything that happens. Never, ever, go near the Clans. For your sakes, I beg you..."
Vix and Vex looked at each other, and Vix rose to his paws.
"We respect Scorch's wishes, we do," Vix snickered. "We not attack Clans, but we do want payment."
His beady eyes glowed with hunger.
"And soon."
"You'll have it when you return," Scorch replied, his fur fluffed. "Just name what you desire when you do."
The two nodded, snickering to each other and shouldering one another as they exited the den.
Scorch turned to the scratchings on the wall.
"Little Cinder..." He growls softly. "I can't let you snuff out my light..."
His ears lower to his head, his shoulders drooping as he drops his gaze to the ground.
"Not yet..."
Nettlepelt stood silent as Pearlight and Cindercall took the apprentices to carefully inspect the last of the caves, his gaze flickering out over the entrance to the hollow.
It was a small entrance, but he had been able to squeeze in just enough.
His gaze flickered up to the opening in the hollow's ceiling.
Though it was lower than the original camp's, it was still a decent height up.
It would hurt if something fell through.
A lot.
"Alright, we're ready to go!" Cindercall's voice snapped Nettlepelt out of his thoughts, and he turned to her.
She approached him, Pearlight, Fleetpaw, and Kestrelpaw on her tail.
"Anything of interest?" He asks.
"Nothing," Pearlight replied this time. "It's all clear. I think we should be good to head out. This time I want to check the valley route to the camp and see how it works."
"Valley route?" Kestrelpaw asked, looking to her mentor. "There was another route?"
"Oh yes," Pearlight agreed, nodding. "See, what we did was circle the perimeter of this area, which is why it took so long. However, while we've traveled, I noticed that there was a much shorter path through the valley. It would lead us just by where we entered, but probably a bit more towards the right than before."
"Are you certain about this, Pearlight?" Nettlepelt asked.
"Of course," he purrs. "You were keeping an eye out for threats, I was keeping an eye out for routes back home. Something quicker, so we can test out those grounds as well. The roundabout way may be a half a day's journey when going at a proper pace, but it would be better if we could shorten it. So, in theory, going through the valley means we'll only stop once to rest at the pace we were going originally."
Nettlepelt's tail twitched, and he nodded.
"I see. I have trust in you to lead us out then."
Pearlight nodded, and Kestrelpaw watched in slight awe as the tom took the lead.
The silver and white tom was brave enough to go a new route; to test new grounds and he was willing to take full responsibility.
Kestrelpaw had once thought that Pearlight wasn't too good of a mentor, but now?
She realized she had one of the best warriors to guide her.
As they moved over the log, Kestrelpaw kept in pace with Fleetpaw, her tail twitching as they hopped on the other side and veered off from their original path.
"Y'think we'll get lost?" Fleetpaw asked.
"Nope," she replies. "Pearlight's awesome, I bet he's got this covered."
"Yeah, but this is also new territory we haven't been in," Fleetpaw pointed out. "And he's just going off of things he theorized and saw clues to. That doesn't mean it's safe."
Kestrelpaw's whiskers twitched with annoyance, and she turned and scowled at Fleetpaw, her ears lowering.
"Maybe, sure, but Pearlight wouldn't put our lives at risk like that unless he was confident. He's not dumb or foolhardy."
Fleetpaw snickers softly, before shouldering her gently.
"Imagine if Jaypaw was the one leading the expedition."
The she-cat snorts with amusement, before breaking out into full laughter.
"He'd have us going around in circles for a solid day and a half."
"But Jaypaw, we've passed this tree for the fifth time!" Fleetpaw gasped. "'No we haven't, there're just a ton of trees that look like that'." The silver tom's mocking voice of her brother sent Kestrelpaw into more laughter, her fur fluffing out with amusement.
"He'd definitely be like that," she purred. "But he's got good intentions. I just think he gets embarrassed."
"Well, Cindercall says it's okay to be wrong sometimes," Fleetpaw mewed.
"I know she does," Kestrelpaw grew quiet. "We just... we've struggled, y'know?"
"Oh, I know," he mewed. "I wish you two could see that she actually cares about you."
"I can see it now," Kestrelpaw murmured. "I just... couldn't before. This outing... It kinda helped. If only Jaypaw could've come too. I'm sure he would've loved to get closer to Cindercall."
"You guys did drift apart after everything," Fleetpaw replied gently. "But I've noticed that you and her seem to be getting along better. Less avoiding glances, at least. Plus you seem happier."
"I am happier," she agreed. "Even if I face-planted into a river yesterday." Fleetpaw's fur ruffled with embarrassment and shame, and Kestrelpaw laughed, nudging him. "Hey, that wasn't your fault. It's not like you made that last rock wet, right? You got it a lot worse than I did."
"Yeah," he agreed. "It was pretty freaky. I'm just glad Cindercall and Nettlepelt got me out of there."
"I'm glad Pearlight got me too. We're pretty lucky that we weren't alone, huh?" Kestrelpaw looked over the sprawling meadow before them as the group continued moving, her fur ruffling against the wind. "Imagine trying to find the Clan by ourselves."
"Yuck, don't make me think of that," Fleetpaw shuddered. "I don't wanna imagine getting lost out here."
"Yeah, same," Kestrelpaw replied. "The idea of getting stuck and having no way home? Creepy..."
Fleetpaw opened his mouth to say more when he paused when he realized the group had slowed to a halt.
The two apprentices shared a look as they saw the hackles raise on the mentors, and they both shifted to try and see what had the warriors on edge.
In the path before them, barely hidden in the tall grass of the meadow, was a lump of something on the ground.
The scent of blood and something putrid wafted towards Kestrelpaw, and she gagged and backed up.
Nettlepelt glanced at his daughter and Fleetpaw, before looking towards Pearlight and Cindercall.
The white and silver tom glanced at him, meeting his gaze.
I told you you should've told her, Pearlight's look seemed to say.
Nettlepelt swallowed, and he looked to Cindercall again.
The grey she-cat's eyes were dark, and she slowly began forward.
"Cinderc—"
Her tail lifted in a signal to be quiet, cutting off Nettlepelt as he called her name, her ears lowering as she approached the shape.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she crept closer.
The scent of infection and blood filled her nose, but she couldn't smell death.
It was alive...
She stopped in front of that familiar snout, the coarse fur and angled ears.
Her heart picked up speed, fear and rage coursing through her veins.
Kill it, a voice sneered. Kill that thing. Just one less to take a life.
"Cinder..."
Cindercall stiffened when she heard the creature speak.
It was a feminine voice, soft and light, despite the hard growly edge to it.
Blue eyes shifted open, meeting hers, and she backed up, her tail twitching as panic swelled in her chest.
The wolf slowly raised her head, scars and wounds marring her fur.
"Are you... Cinder...?" She asked gently, her head swaying as though it were difficult for her to keep her head raised.
"You... Know me...?" Cindercall wheezed, taking another step back.
The wolf's eyes were dim, her head collapsing back on the ground.
"All of Pack knows you..." She wheezes. "Some fear you... Others hate you... And some..." Her blue eyes swiveled up to stare down Cindercall once more. "Some admire you..."
Cindercall's gaze hardened, her claws unsheathing, her fur bristling.
"Admire me?" She scoffs. "Don't feed me that mouse-dung, I—"
"Allow me to..." The she-wolf wheezes. "Rephrase... Cinder... I admire you... Which is probably why I'm here..."
Cindercall stumbled to silence, taken aback.
"Wh-what?"
"Scorch didn't... Take kindly to my admiration... Heh..." The wolf swallowed. "I wanted to honor your strength... To do as you wished, and ally the pack to the Clans..." Her gaze flickered down to her wounds. "And he did... this to me... In return, at least..."
Cindercall looked to the wounds, her heart racing.
The russet wolf that she could hardly remember.
His green eyes.
Those gnashing teeth.
"What is your name...?" Cindercall asked quietly.
The she-wolf's eyes widened in surprise, and she blinked slowly.
"My... name?" Her eyes slowly shut, and she exhales slowly. "It's Feather."