Rusty woke up with the distinct feeling he was being watched. Blinking owlishly in the pale dawn light filtering into the barn, he lifted his head and looked around. Jake's face came into focus and Rusty sighed, laying his head back down.
"I understand your eagerness to revisit your old hunting grounds, but you really don't need me to guide you around," Rusty mewed sleepily, flicking his tailtip over his nose.
"I'd rather have someone familiar show me around and to keep me from getting confused with you if we ran into any clan cats," Jake mewed, paws kneading impatiently at the ground. "I haven't been around for seasons while you've firmly established yourself, and I'd hate to inadvertently cause you trouble if someone mistook me for you."
Rusty opened an eye to stare at Jake. The resemblance between the two of them was similar, but only on the surface, and only at a brief glance. Jake was a slight shade brighter, pelt slightly longer, glossier, and Rusty was reasonably sure he wasn't quite as soft as Jake, given his seasons of loner life…
The loner sighed heavily, getting to his paws, before slowly stretching himself from toes to tailtip. He shook out his pelt and blinked the last dregs of sleep from his eyes before jumping down to the barn floor, Jake landing heavily behind him.
Much less soft.
"Any particular direction?" Rusty asked, biting back an amused purr. "Although there's only really one option, since WindClan and ShadowClan are both that way-" He flicked his tail east. "-and RiverClan and ThunderClan are both that way." Slightly more southwards.
"I've already visited Wind and Shadow on my way here, even if it was only a glimpse," Jake mewed. "So I think starting with River and Thunder would be more appropriate, right?"
Rusty ran through a rough map of the territories in his head for a moment before frowning. "Technically speaking, RiverClan's on the way to ThunderClan."
"Isn't it mostly isolated by the river though? Crossing into it seems rather risky, given the weather," Jake pointed out.
Rusty paused at that, before nodding, flicking his ears sheepishly. "Fair enough," he mewed.
Barley watched the two gingers leave from the loft before dropping to the floor himself. He felt a prickle along his spine and he glanced back to see Yellowfang pad out of the gloom.
"How are you feeling?" Barley asked the ragged gray molly.
She yawned, showing yellowed teeth, before fixing him with her piercing stare. "Been better, but that's what getting old does for you. And what of yourself?"
Barley shrugged, fur rippling along his spine. "I'm content to just sit back and let things happen, as long as they don't affect me." He arched a brow. "I find life tends to be easier that way."
"It is," Yellowfang mewed in amusement, "but surely you've considered doing more?"
"When I was younger, maybe, but after everything with Violet, I'd really rather not."
Yellowfang stared at him silently, before nodding. "Wise of you." She padded past him, heading towards the doors. She stopped and looked back at him. "But things are changing around here, so that may not be an option going forward."
She vanished and Barley shuddered. He doubted he'd ever understand clan cats. Loners were difficult enough, and everything that had happened seemed to be doing so with or without his consent. That worried him, but so far, it had been manageable. Then the rogues had attacked, and he'd been forced to act then. Would something like that happen again? Could he do anything to prevent that?
He was pretty sure it was out of his paws, and he felt a sense of helplessness, of being insignificant, irrelevant, an ant before a flood. Yet at the same time, he felt weirdly calm, and…warm.
Barley frowned, flicking his ears and shaking his head. He wondered if that was what the clans felt like, knowing that StarClan was watching over them. Yellowfang talked about them occasionally, and the various clan cats that stopped by – especially the medicine cats – seemed to hold them in high regard.
He pawed at his ears in frustration. Everything around him seemed rather mad and he wondered if that had always been the case, but he hadn't noticed since it never impacted him? Barley sighed, flicking his ears as he trotted outside to vent his frustrations on the mice in the fields.
Rusty kept a close eye on Jake as they entered ThunderClan's woods, trees now covered in snow. The older ginger tom's ears were turning every which way, mouth open to taste the air, eyes flicking in a myriad of directions, trying to take everything in at once.
Jake paused for a moment, head and ears cocked. "It's so quiet," he murmured. "Everything feels like its sleeping." He looked at Rusty. "Does that help with hunting?"
Rusty shrugged. "I have no idea." He arched a brow. "Not many trees on the farm."
Jake frowned. "So you never come here to hunt? That a loner thing?"
"Hypothetically, given this doesn't really apply to us, how would you feel if someone came in and took your food you were looking forward to eating?" Rusty asked.
"I'd rip their fur off," Jake hissed, before blinking. "Hm. Fair point." He glanced around. "In retrospect, probably shouldn't have come here."
Rusty sighed, shaking his head. "If we don't hunt, we should be fine."
"Oh please do, I've been waiting for an excuse to rip a cat's fur off."
The two gingers jumped in surprise as a few ThunderClan cats materialized from the snowy undergrowth.
Longtail, Swiftpaw, Fernpaw, and Dustpelt regarded the loners warily, eyes darting between them. Longtail had his teeth bared and hackles raised.
"You know me better than that," Rusty mewed. "And this is the cat I got it from."
Dustpelt's eyes narrowed. "You're still on ThunderClan territory."
"Just passing through," Rusty mewed wearily. "From your lean appearance, I can tell we probably wouldn't find anything anyway, especially since you're far more familiar with where prey likes to congregate."
Longtail relaxed slightly, preening. "And don't you forget it."
Jake fought to keep his face straight and glanced at Rusty from the corner of his eye, who wasn't even trying to hide his exasperation.
"I doubt they mean us or our prey any harm," Dustpelt mewed, flicking his tail in front of Longtail's nose, who snorted and backed up. "Where exactly are you planning on going, anyway?"
"Probably find some way to cross over into RiverClan territory for a looksee-roundee," Jake mewed.
Swiftpaw shook his head. "There's no safe way over in Leaf-Bare, and RiverClan's warned us that they're not always nearby if someone falls through the ice."
"Then how do they get to Gatherings?" Rusty asked.
The ThunderClan cats looked at one another, fur rippling uncertainly.
"Probably some clan-specific way that they're not going to share since other clans could use it to get into their territory," Jake mused thoughtfully. "A shame, but I can wait until the weather's warmer to take a look around." His nose scrunched disdainfully. "I can't imagine how they're handling all that freezing water."
"By being smart and not handling all that freezing water, no doubt," Fernpaw mewed. She then ducked her head sheepishly when everyone looked at her in amusement.
"Either way, you might as well come with us," Dustpelt meowed. "If you're so keen on exploring the territory, you might as well be with cats that know the territory, and keep you from getting into trouble."
Rusty pointedly ignored Jake's smug look as they followed the clan cats deeper into the woods.