1Ahh, yes. Fishkit could remember now. He nodded to himself. That night had been one of his proudest. If he closed his eyes, the bone-white tom could see the shifting shades and feel the cool night breezes. He could relive the thrill of running from his tormentors, Tigerpaw and Darkkit. He could taste freedom.
But the story does not end there, Fishkit reminded himself. No, no, no. The story continues. I met my new family. Yes. That is the night I could live every night for the rest of my life. Yes...
---F î " t z î ---
Fishkit ran. He ran and ran and ran. He looked up to see pink tails of dawnlight creeping across the milky blue skies. The sun was rising like a shining eye, climbing over the fences of Twoleg gardens. A warm breeze stirred his soft kit-fur. Fishkit purred. The feeling of the purr made him even happier. The white he-kit squirmed with pleasure.
Then he remembered that he was running away. An image of Tigerpaw and Darkkit's jeering faces flashed before his eyes. Fishkit growled. The sound felt like a purr, but it was different. Whereas a purr spoke of the security of the nursery, this growl spoke of open danger in battle. Rather than feeling like nature, it felt like a Twoleg's Treecutter monster, harsh and unnatural. The sensation startled Fishkit. Did I make that sound? It's scary!
Fishkit vowed he would never growl again. Never. It scared him too much. Hoping to calm his anxiety, he looked up at the sky another time. The pink tails were gone now, replaced by a gentle blue. Fishkit sighed. It looks like Bluefur's pelt. So pretty... He shook himself. Harsh reality pricked him like claws. He had left Bluefur to find his own life. He would probably never see her again.
The young kit started to run again. He ran until he came across four huge oak trees grouped around an even huger rock. What is this place? he wondered. I've never seen anything like it before. He scrambled up the side of the rock and gazed down at the forest floor below him. Ooh! I've never been this high up before! I feel like I can see the whole world from up here! Wow. This is really something. I wonder if Bluefur has ever been here and climbed up this rock.
Fishkit picked his way carefully down the side again and started off. He realized that an unusual sensation had crept into his belly. It was something he had never really felt before. Hunger. His mouth was dry. He was thirsty as well. The he-kit recalled he had seen water not too long ago. He decided to get a drink. Dashing back to the river, he saw another cat. It was sturdily built, with reddish-brown fur. The scent coming off of it was unfamiliar; Fishkit had never smelled it before.
He watched in fascination as the reddish tomcat sat motionless, then suddenly swiped his paw into the water. In a spray of droplets was a streak of shining silver. Fishkit had yet to see anything like it. The tom gripped the silver streak in his strong jaws and bit down into it. The thing stopped its flopping. He's hunting? I've never seen a cat hunt like that before! I wonder if Bluefur has!
Excited by what he had just seen, Fishkit waited until the tom was gone before he padded to the water's edge. He wanted to do that! How hard could it possibly be? You just wait and grab the first silver thing that comes by, right? It wasn't so complicated. He poised a paw above the water just like the strange-smelling he-cat had done. Something glittered in the corner of his eye. It must be one of those silvery things! Fishkit unwittingly pounced at it, sending up a splash of cold, soaking water all around him.
Then the current kicked in. Fishkit had time for one last yowl of terror before he was swept under. He thrashed his paws and tail wildly, screaming and howling. Water rushed into his open mouth. The kit retched and spat. The water was ice-cold. Already his legs were going numb. Fishkit forced his way to the top and let out a piercing cry. Then he sunk back under the waves.
His final screech had attracted the attention of a rogue she-cat by the name of Candle. Candle had white fur with reddish-ginger and yellow splotches on her tail. Candle heard the wail of a kit in panic and raced to the water. Her mate, a WindClan outcast called Gorseclaw, hurried up alongside her. Candle spotted Fishkit's white fur in the river and dove in after him. Fishkit felt sharp teeth met in the scruff of his neck and blacked out. Candle dragged herself out of the water.
"Candle!" Gorseclaw shouted. "Are you mad?"
"There... was... th-this... k-kit in the wa-wa-water," Candle stammered, shivering with cold. "Look at him, G-Gorseclaw."
Gorseclaw sniffed the unconscious Fishkit's fur. "He's a ThunderClan kit," he growled. "You should have let him drown."
"He's a helpless kit!" spat Candle. "Look at him! I bet he's still drinking milk. What was he doing trying to swim so young?"
Gorseclaw was used to Candle's mood swings. He knew she could be fighting mad one instant, then calm and sweet the next. He sighed. "We'll call him Fishkit," he meowed. "Since he was trying to swim at such a young age."
"Why not just Fish?" Candle asked. "After all, he's not a Clan cat anymore."
"Fishkit," Gorseclaw repeated, a little more sternly this time. "I will not be the only cat with a Clan name here."
Candle nodded as she bent to her mate's wish. She picked up Fishkit gently and carried him over to her sleeping spot. There, she lay the little kit down close to her warm body and started licking his soaking wet fur. "Fishkit," she murmured. "You're my kit now. It's a good thing my litter weaned just yesterday. I have plenty of milk for you, little one."
Fishkit woke up a few hours later. Candle looked down at him, a warmth in her golden eyes. "Hello, Fishkit," she meowed.
Fishkit saw her mouth move. It was a familiar motion. Bluefur used it when she greeted other cats. He quickly made the appropriate reply, a twitch of the ears and a wave of the tail. "Hello," he signed. Then, since he didn't know this new cat's name, he signed his name for Dappletail: patting his paws down his tiny tail. "Mother."
Candle was taken aback. Was she supposed to know this scrap of fur's secret language? She bent closer, moving her mouth slowly to form the word "hello." Fishkit responded with the same ear-flick and tail-wave, only slower. She wants to treat me like I'm stupid, I'll do the same to her!
"Gorseclaw!" Candle called. "Come and look at little Fishkit! He's making these funny motions."
Gorseclaw padded in. Fishkit sniffed him curiously. Here was a cat that carried the same scent as the hill by the four-trees-and-big-rock place. His fur was unusual: splattered with browns and gingers of all shades. His eyes were bright green. Fishkit made the hello sign to him. Gorseclaw opened his mouth and barked like a dog. Candle's hackles rose briefly. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she muttered. "You'll scare Fishkit."
"Look at him, Candle," Gorseclaw murmured. "Does he look scared? Watch. I'll do it again." Gorseclaw made the barking sound once more. Fishkit continued to gaze up at him. That mouth-movement didn't look like any word he knew. Gorseclaw continued. "He's not fluffing up because he didn't hear me. Candle, I'm fairly sure Fishkit is deaf."
"D-deaf?" Candle repeated in a squeaky mew.
"Yes, deaf. Remember how he made those signs to you and me? Some cat's tried to teach him to communicate through sign language." Gorseclaw nodded, as if approving the mystery cat's attempts. "Let me try something."
Gorseclaw made the ear-twitch and tail wave motion while gazing calmly at Fishkit. Fishkit looked startled, then pleased. He tapped his flank with his tail, then ran the tip of it around his eyes. Bluefur had chosen this sign to mean "Fishkit" because of his blue eyes.
"What was that?" Candle asked.
"I believe that was his name." Gorseclaw thought for a moment about how to sign his own name, then nodded. He tapped his flank with his tail, then used it to point to a branch, then an extended claw.
"Oh! I get it!" Candle mewed. "You said 'I'm Gorse-claw', didn't you?"
"I think that's what I told him, yes."
Fishkit thought about what the splatter-furred cat had just said. Treeclaw? Bushclaw? Branchclaw? Stickclaw? Twigclaw? Leafclaw? Whatever his name is, it ends in 'claw.'
One of Candle's litter, a young tom named Rust, approached his new brother. "Hey! He talks with his tail!" he mewed. "Can I try and talk to him, Father? Can I?"
"Sure, Rust," Gorseclaw meowed. "Maybe you can get the gist of this better than I can."
Rust approached Fishkit uncertainly. "How'd he sign his name?" Gorseclaw imitated the gesture for "Fishkit." Rust nodded.
"Hello, Fishkit," he signed. Fishkit nodded to say he had understood the other he-kit thus far. "I'm..." Rust hesitated.
Fishkit had been admiring the streaks of color in Rust's fur. He invented a sign for Rust's name. He streaked his tail down his own flank to imitate a very bold stripe of ginger fur. Rust gave a startled mew.
"Did you see that? He said my name!" Rust was overjoyed. "He said my name! Oh! Yeah!" He turned back to Fishkit. "I'm Rust," he signed.
Fishkit purred and rubbed his head against Rust's. Rust returned the purr. Gorseclaw and Candle locked gazes above the kits' heads. Determination glittered in both looks. They made a silent vow that every cat in the group of rogues would soon be able to communicate with Fishkit.
---F î " t z î ---
"Fishkit! Fishkit!" Rust signed frantically. "Fishkit! Come! Here!"
Fishkit, sensing his brother's anxiety, raced away from the mouse he had been about to devour. Rust's eyes were wide and his fur was bristling. "Rust," Fishkit signed.
"Fishkit! It's Candle and Gorseclaw! They're––" Rust trailed off as he realized he was speaking aloud. "It's Branch-claw and Pattern-tail," he motioned, using the choppy versions of the two rogues' names. "They're not well."
"How?" Fishkit asked, drawing confused lines with his paws. He was a little over eight moons now. Rust was a moon older.
"Can't explain." Rust was too worried to think of the proper motions to say 'hit by a monster.' "Fear! Come!"
Fishkit darted up behind Rust. He knew both their parents were out on an expedition to get food from the Twoleg dump across the Thunderpath. He followed the tabby tom towards the stinking road. The sickening stench of blood filled the air around Fishkit. He shivered. The other two rogues who had gone out with the mates moved aside to let Fishkit sign his last words to his parents.
"Fishkit," Gorseclaw began faintly. His back parts had been crushed by the monster. Candle lay dead beside him. "Fish... kit. I cannot tell you of your past. You were not born a rogue, like you must have thought... Rust will tell you... Goodbye, my son..."
Gorseclaw's green eyes glazed over and shut. Fishkit was paralyzed. He knew he had been born outside of the rogue clan, but that was not what shocked him.
Gorseclaw and Candle, the two cats he had accepted as his parents, were dead.