'He'll admit to everything,
Or he'll say he's just not the same.'

'How to Save a Life' - The Fray

¢нαρтєя єιgнт: тяαρρє∂

"Vile scum!"

"Traitorous foxheart!"

"Bloodthirsty maggot!"

"Just kill her!"

"Drown her in the mud!"

"Starve her!"

The insults and death threats thrown at Tornheart as she stood in the middle of the muddy, grassy camp stung the ears of the Chosen. After being ambushed and caught by RogueClan – no thanks to the final Chosen they had to find – they'd been unceremoniously marched through the boggy territory much to Icepetal's fierce disgust. The fiery she-cat had spat, hissed, snarled and snapped at the RogueClan warriors that had been guarding her.

Now they were imprisoned within a small den fashioned from branches and brambles. The walls were made solid with dried mud and leaves the colour of bark. It stunk as well, leaving a vile taste in the back of their mouths whenever they inhaled. Not only did the mud walls stink but so did the fear that rolled off Littleflame in waves.

Eaglestrike had tried desperately to calm her down, wrapping his larger body around her smaller one, whispering words of comfort in her ear. But there was no way to ignore the look of pure fear in her pretty green eyes as she stared out past the Chosen into the camp filled with vicious rogue warriors. She was terrified, trembling like a leaf.

"Please," she'd whispered when he'd gone to get up, "don't. I'm scared."

So he'd stayed with the pale orange she-cat curled up against his stomach, nose pressed into his thick chest fur. His heartbeat sped up rapidly whenever she moved in her sleep. He found the want to fall asleep as well growing strong, tugging at his weary muscles. Without his command his head began to droop down, coming to rest gently against Littleflame's flank. She twitched and made a noise. He flushed under his pelt, leaning back to rest his head on his chest.

"Getting a little cosy there?" Rainpatch chuckled from where he sat near the prison exit. Two guards sat watch outside making sure they didn't escape. Not like we would try to, Eaglestrike growled inwardly, we can't leave without Willowclaw regardless of whether he wants to come with us or not.

He glared at the WaveClan tom. "She's scared, okay? All she needs is a little warmth."

"That looks like a lot of warmth to me," Rainpatch returned with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"How can you joke at a time like this!?" Icepetal snapped viciously. "We're stuck in an enemy camp with Crimson turning up as soon as the sun sets. Tornheart is being insulted at like she's a piece of crowfood. The last Chosen, that awful tom Willowclaw, has been sulking around camp sending pitiful looks towards us since we were put in here. And you," she snapped her jaws whiskers from Rainpatch, "are making jokes about Eaglestrike kindly attending to our terrified teammate!"

The blue-furred tom wriggled uncomfortably, looking down at his paws with a sheepish look. "I was only trying to lighten the mood. We'll get out of here before sunset. Tornheart'll do some of her magic stuff and whisk us out of here! Before you know it we'll all be traipsing up the mountains in the cold to start our journey!"

"Haven't you looked outside? She's given up," Icepetal's voice was low.

Eaglestrike's ears twitched as he once again hauled himself out of sleep, "what do you mean she's given up?"

"Their insults got worse but none of you were listening. It seems most cats in RogueClan know about her killing her mother. They've resorted to teasing her about that. She's had her head hung low for a while now. I doubt she'll be magicking us anywhere much before sunset. The best we can do is sit tight."

The sudden realisation of their predicament came crashing down around them. Sunset wasn't far off which meant that Crimson wasn't either. Kynsia would no doubt notify Crimson about having Tornheart locked away in her camp. That would draw Crimson – whether it be peacefully or not – to the camp. She'd see the Chosen in the camp, slaughter them and then the world would be doomed to live under her rule forever.

Eaglestrike felt a pang of ice cold fear wriggle through his skin as he thought about it. Their lingering in RogueClan territory had turned into a disaster. By looking around he could tell that the others were thinking similar things.

They needed to get out.

Or they'd die.

Time passed, the sun remaining in its low position, the moon perched high in the afternoon blue sky. Wispy white clouds toddled lazily across the sky, a chilly breeze gusting them along. All-in-all it was a pleasant day in the valley for the cats that weren't currently being held prisoner in an enemy Clan's camp.

The Chosen, within their mud-walled den, had curled up in an attempt to rest their weary bodies after quickly travelling from Clan to Clan. Icepetal and Rainpatch had forgiven the grievances between them to the extent that they were now sleeping peacefully beside each other; her tail flicked over his flank, his forepaw nestled in the crook between her jaw and neck. Whenever she flinched in her sleep or mewled pitifully at some sort of nightmare, Rainpatch subconsciously moved closer, eventually pressing his nose to her cheek.

Only Eaglestrike remained awake after the temptation to fall asleep had vanished after hearing about Tornheart's hideous treatment. It haunted him to know how much she was doing to help the Clans that so clearly hated her. But he was also curious. Why was Tornheart doing so much to help the Clans that hated her? She'd, more or less, had a healthy life as Crimson's right-hand paw. It mightn't have been a necessarily enjoyable life but it had to be better compared to what she was experiencing right now.

Shifting slightly – much to Littleflame's discomfort – he extended his neck to look out at where Tornheart was sitting. A sort of thorny vine had been fasted around her leg by the medicine cat when they'd first arrived. It kept the she-cat from moving around too much. The thorns, from what Eaglestrike had observed, bit painfully into her skin whenever she shifted too much.

Most of RogueClan had gone back to doing their duties, the novelty of having the cat that betrayed the Clans in their camp wearing off. Now she was just an ordinary prisoner awaiting judgement by the deputy-turned-leader that hadn't been seen since earlier that day.

It was intriguing to watch another Clan go about their daily business, to see them bringing back prey, organising patrols, relaying information from those patrols. Intriguing as it was, the effect eventually wore off on Eaglestrike. He was sick of sitting in a prison den being guarded like he was a convicted murder.

The sound of voices outside the den grabbed his attention.

"Kite, Feather, your guard duty is up. Go grab some fresh kill and rest."

He recognised that low, deep, thick, rumbling voice. His lip curled on its own accord. It was that damn horrible tom, the last Chosen they needed to find: Willowclaw.

"Isn't there going to be another guard with you?" a female voice questioned lightly.

"You don't think I can handle a few sleeping cats by myself?" Willowclaw sounded offended.

Light laughter drifted into the den accompanied by the sound of two pairs of retreating paw steps vibrating against the muddy ground. There was a period of silence in which Eaglestrike stretched forward his neck until it popped and then lay his head down on Littleflame's flank. She purred in her sleep. His heart swelled considerably as his pelt warmed. Stop it, his thought was angry, she's from another Clan for star's sake! All you think of her is that she's pretty.

"Are any of you awake?"

Eaglestrike bit back a stinging comment. "Yes. What do you want?" he replied coldly.

The big tabby tom leaned into the den, his huge shoulders cutting out the pale sunlight. "There's no need to be angry," Willowclaw retorted hotly yet his face seemed strained. "I want to come with you, wherever you lot are going. You didn't see what Tornheart showed me." A shadowed look appeared in his eyes. "It wasn't very nice."

"Well we're not going anywhere imprisoned in your camp," Eaglestrike snarled quietly as to not wake the others.

"No really?" the dark tabby hissed sarcastically.

Both warriors glared at each other for what seemed like an age before Willowclaw broke it off with a raspy chuckle. "I think you and I will get on well," he murmured.

"And what makes you think that?"

"I don't know. I just do," Willowclaw bristled sharply. It was like the tom wasn't used to be asked questions about the things he said, Eaglestrike decided. The RogueClan tom nodded at the curled up form of Littleflame who was still fast asleep. "Isn't she a CedarClan she-cat?"

Eagleflight only nodded.

"And aren't you a PhoenixClan tom?"

"Yeah. So?"

Willowclaw's brows arched in interest, "aren't those sorts of relationships forbidden?"

"We aren't mates!" Eaglestrike nearly shouted. "Your Clan terrified her beyond words! You should've seen her! She was shaking like a leaf, on the verge of tears at times. All she needed was a friend and I decided to be that friend." He glanced down at her, were they even friends? Or were they just teammates as Icepetal had said?

Willowclaw grunted in a non-believing way. "Escaping won't be possible until the Clan leaves for High Star Isle to meet with Crimson. Kynsia won't risk bringing any of you or Tornheart. She knows Crimson'll kill her on the spot. She'll probably attempt to bargain something off of Crimson thinking she's doing what's best for the Clan. But she's not, I know that, and so do most of the Clan. They know Crimson'll say no and then order an attack on our camp. An attack on our camp like the one that happened on SnowClan will slaughter all of us." The tom twitched his whiskers as his little speech came to an end.

"You're smarter than you look," Eagleflight snorted.

"Nah," Willowclaw winked, "I overheard Iana shouting at Kynsia about it."

Eagleflight rolled his eyes but couldn't wipe the small smile off his face. If Willowclaw was definitely the final Chosen then their group was beyond strange. Icepetal, a rogue turned warrior who'd been exiled from SnowClan. Rainpatch, the joking, over cheerful, always smiling WaveClan tom. Littleflame, a shy cat with remarkable parents who made her feel unwanted. And finally Willowclaw, the full of himself, aggressive, nasty, thick-headed tomcat from RogueClan. How was he supposed to lead these cats? Did he even want to lead these cats? Did he want to be responsible for their lives?

The she-cat curled up against him shifted in her sleep, a small snore emitting from her slightly open jaw. Eaglestrike held back an amused purr. Yes, yes I do want to lead these cats but not against their own will. We'll be a team, we'll work together and we'll come home.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the medicine den looking after Plummet?" Willowclaw snarled to another cat outside the den.

A softer set of paw steps neared the den, halting a little way off. "I've already told you that I've done all I can; now we all we can do is wait and see." Eaglestrike recognised the soft voice of RogueClan's medicine cat.

"That's not good enough! You told me whitecough was healable and no you're saying we have to sit and pray that it doesn't turn into greencough and kill her?" Willowclaw hissed.

"What do you expect me to do!? Make some herbs just appear at my paws?" Iana scoffed. "Don't be juvenile. There's nothing I can do until leaf bare comes to an end and the herbs I need start growing again. Calm down, she's not on the verge of death."

Willowclaw growled and snapped his jaw shut with a loud clack. "You medicine cats always think you're so much more important than the rest of us because you can mix a few herbs. What else can you do other than that? Absolutely nothing," he sneered.

"I could claw your ears off," Iana spat back.

Eaglestrike couldn't believe his ears. How could Willowclaw speak so horribly to the medicine cat of his own Clan? Medicine cats deserved respect for all the things they did to help the Clan! Heal, help birth kits, give advice, and help look after the Clan among other things, medicine cats were the lifeline of every Clan.

The two RogueClan cats argued fiercely for what seemed like moons, spitting and hissing without a care as to who was listening. They didn't seem to care that they were tossing out RogueClan secrets within whiskers of four enemy warriors. Eaglestrike snorted, accidentally jolting Littleflame from her sleep.

"What? Where am I?" the pale orange she-cat murmured sleepily.

"Imprisoned within RogueClan's camp," Eaglestrike answered honestly with a wry smile.

He felt the she-cat stiffen, emitting a quiet mewl of terror. "I'd forgotten…"

"They haven't tried to hurt us but they haven't given us food either," he admitted as his stomach growled.

Littleflame went to purr in amusement and then suddenly realised just how close the two of them were. Her nose was practically buried in his relatively thick chest fur. Quickly she untangled her limbs from his, rising unsteadily to her paws before toddling a few steps away, her heart beating erratically. "D-d-did you really expect them to give us t-their food?" she stammered.

"I suppose not," Eaglestrike said, unfolding his legs in a long stretch.

Before the two could say anything else to each other a loud yowl rang out – waking the sleeping Icepetal and Rainpatch - as a scruffy fawn tabby shot into camp, blood dribbling off her ripped, mangled flanks as they heaved frantically. Another cat stumbled into camp, white fur stained scarlet, nasty wounds carved into his skin. Upon his large shoulders laid a smaller gray cat with messy fur, blood gushing from a slice in his throat.

An anguished noise sounded from Willowclaw as Eaglestrike watched him dash across the camp to where the large white tom had allowed the gray one to slump ungracefully off his shoulders. "What happened!?" a sharp female voice demanded.

Kynsia stepped out from a tangled mess of thick tree roots. Her eyes were focused on the lifeless body of the gray cat as its blood spilled onto the marshy camp floor. "Frost?" she asked again directing her question at the large white tom.

But it was not him that answered, nor was it him that chuckled darkly. A shadowed feeling enveloped the camp. The sun's setting light appeared to dim considerably whilst the red light from the moon grew brighter. Shadows of cats tore sharpened claws through the barrier that ringed the camp, supposedly protecting it from attacks.

A well-muscled yet sleek, with a slightly distended stomach, black-furred she-cat strode through the camp's now useless entry chuckling darkly. Trotting gleefully behind her with sky blue eyes alight with amusement and bloodlust was a cream she-cat. The two paused midway across the marshy camp ground. "I do believe," the black-furred she-cat spoke loudly, "that you have something of mine."

"She wandered into our territory and attacked one of my warriors," Kynsia's voice wavered and shook with slight fear that Eaglestrike couldn't understand. Who was the black-furred she-cat and why did she claim that Tornheart belonged to her? Unless…

Willowclaw leaned into the den, "get out here, now."

"Why?" Icepetal spat.

"Just do it!"

The others looked to Eaglestrike for what to do. Apparently they've all already decided I'm going to lead them, he scoffed inwardly. He nodded, rose to his paws and slid quietly out of the den, the rest of the Chosen following close behind. Once outside the stench of blood and death hit him like a wave, choking his sense of smell up a little.

"And which one of your warriors did Tornheart supposedly attack?" the black she-cat demanded calmly.

Kynsia looked up and made eye contact with Willowclaw. The tom nodded ever so slightly. "Willowclaw," she replied, indicating to him with her tail.

The she-cat looked over her shoulder at Willowclaw, unknowingly also laying eyes on the now five Chosen warriors. Eaglestrike held in a choked gasp of horror.

It was Crimson.

AN: Only took nine chapters for the Chosen and Crimson to finally meet.

Scarpath2001: I'm glad you haven't! No, I don't need anymore cats, but thanks for offering :3.

Honey: *dies laughing* Oh wow, your review has amused me greatly. It took you eight chapters to decide how stupid my story was? :')

-нυηтєя