'I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past.'

'Undisclosed Desires' - Muse

¢нαρтєя тнιяту: ¢ιтуѕ¢αρє

"Did you really just do that?" Rainpatch remarked, prodding the comatose red tabby with a claw, wrinkling his nose when a chunk of fur fell away. The tabby was filthy, fur matted and choked with dirt; skin riddled with scratches and infected wounds.

Littleflame was shaking a little, paw still raised in an aggressive manner. "I-I think I did. He came out of nowhere!"

"Did you really need to knock him out!?" the WaveClanner exclaimed.

Eaglestrike stifled his laughter to run his muzzle comfortingly against Littleflame's, snickering at her expression of pure shock. Beside him Icepetal sucked in a deep breath to still her quiet giggles, whilst Apollo was still stuck in her laughing fit.

Leaving the tribe's territory five days ago had deposited them in an airy, light forest. Through the thin canopy streamed pale light, illuminating the forest floor. On the ground grew a bounty of plants: clumps of wild flowers of all different colours, ferns grew in excess, and on what ground wasn't covered in fallen leaves grew vibrant green grass. A few moss covered rocks stood firm.

Apollo's plan had worked enough that Crimson had pursued them tirelessly for three days, hunting them day and night. They hadn't been able to rest for long, she had her elites with her and they could track exceptionally well. Her soldiers had only surprised them once, splitting in two and trapping the Chosen between them. Only Rainpatch's sharp nose had given them enough time to escape, slipping to safety before they were caught.

On day three they lost her, venturing into an icy river to disrupt their scent trail. From the edges of the forest that bordered the river they watched Crimson screech at her elites, hissing and spitting, demanding that they do everything within their power to pick up the scent trail. Two drowned elites later Crimson retreated.

Two days of peace had them making their way steadily through the cool forest, enjoying the safety that came with the towering trees. It gave them shade, and it gave them protection from wandering eyes. Yet it was a strange feeling of safety, one that they knew could break at any given moment. Yes, they were harder to spot in the forest, but that also gave their enemies the means to sneak up on them. Already they'd had an incident with a mangy fox, practically running headlong into the long-snouted predator.

But the sudden arrival of the bedraggled red tabby in a shower of leaves trumped any of the other strangeness they'd had. With full bellies the Chosen had meandered peacefully down a forest path they'd discovered, poking fun at each other. With Rainpatch midway through an extravagant tale about the time he and his sister had planted a spider on the nose of a sleeping apprentice they hadn't noticed the quiet footfalls of an approaching creature until the tabby had fallen from the tree above Rainpatch with a hoarse, screeching battle cry.

A panicked and utterly confused Rainpatch had shrieked, "hOLYFCUKINSHIT", and then just flailed under the tabby's weight, snapping insults and exclamations that were far too jumbled to understand. Littleflame, positively terrified, had struck like a viper, bringing a forepaw crashing down so hard on the tabby's head that it had knocked him out.

"You don't think I killed him, do you?" Littleflame whispered, staring down at the unconscious tabby with uncertainty. She gingerly reached out a paw to shake the tom's shoulder, only to redraw it heartbeats later.

"I don't think you hit him that hard," Icepetal scoffed. As if in response the tabby groaned and moved, only to have Littleflame hit him solidly again.

Apollo cackled, "Okay, so you might have killed him this time."

"What else was I supposed to do!?" Littleflame protested. "He was waking up! What if he's a soldier?"

"Soldiers travel in groups," Rainpatch, having gotten over his shock, reminded, "and are usually rather noisy."

"Bit like you," Apollo muttered under her breath.

Rainpatch scrunched up his nose, staring pointedly at the white-furred she-cat. "I'm hurt."

"He doesn't look like a soldier," Eaglestrike decided, inspecting the tom with a keen eye. Under his tattered pelt were muscles gone soft with disuse, and a slight layer of fat. The only scars on the stranger were two marked in an 'X' on his forehead. He reeked; pelt filled with so much filth. "Not at all."

"If he's not a soldier then what's he doing out here by himself?" Icepetal argued, gesturing to the forest around them.

"Maybe he lives here," Rainpatch offered.

Icepetal laughed. "He doesn't look like he could catch his own tail if he tripped over it."

Nodding his agreement Eaglestrike sighed and furrowed his brow. Would it be right for them just to leave the tabby unconscious out in the middle of a forest? Sure, they hadn't seen any soldiers since the river, but that didn't mean that they weren't around. Now that they were getting closer to Crimson's mountain it was more than likely for there to be an increased number of soldier patrols searching for them. But the tom was a complete stranger. He could be one of Crimson's for all they knew.

"We can't really leave him here," Apollo voiced his concerns, glancing at him swiftly. He liked her eyes, he decided, when they were brimming with intelligence, and not malice.

"Let's find somewhere to rest for the night," Eaglestrike suggested, though his tone made the suggestion appear more as an order. The last, pale rays of the sun were dying, night making its way to blanket the world. He didn't doubt that if he could see the sky through the leaves he'd see cold stars blinking into existence.

Rainpatch just shrugged, grabbing the tom's scruff to haul him onto Apollo's waiting back. She shrugged the tom into a comfier position, frowning at the stench, and nodded to let the others know she was good to go. Eaglestrike could see a dip in the forest floor a little ways ahead, just off the path, deciding that that would do for the night. It would hide them well enough.

The dip was shallow, overshadowed by an arching bush, ground spattered with clumps of grass and leaves. Rainpatch practically threw himself onto one of the thicker patches of grass, groaning as he wriggled around. Finding a comfortable spot stretching out on his back the WaveClanner grinned happily, eyelids lazily drifting shut.

"You're on watch after Icepetal!" Eaglestrike told the comfortable tom only getting a quiet snore in reply. Shaking his head he helped unload the burden weighing down Apollo, rolling the tabby tom onto his side. "We'll just have to hope he's not an enemy," he murmured.

"He won't be," Apollo assured with a bright smile. "Besides, if Littleflame can take him down the rest of us won't have any trouble at all."

Eaglestrike opened his mouth in defence of the little CedarClan warrior but shut it without saying anything. Personally he thought Littleflame could at least hold her own in a fight now, he'd been training her whenever they got the chance. He'd been pleased to note that her warrior training had supplied her with a basic knowledge of fighting techniques, but also saddened to discover that her mentor had never had put expectations that were far too high on the she-cat's shoulders. The daughter of a Games winner, and a Clan leader, he mused watching her say something to Icepetal which made them both laugh. He smiled.

"I think you deserve a decent night's rest after today," Apollo broke him out of his silent musings.

"Why? We didn't do anything strenuous today."

She rolled her eyes, "you didn't sleep last night."

"I wanted to make sure there weren't any other foxes hanging around," he huffed.

"We can look after ourselves, you know?" Apollo teased. "At least let someone else take the first watch tonight. Icepetal maybe?"

Eaglestrike glanced over at the mention warrior, noting the wistful way she was gazing in the direction they'd come. Five days and the pain of losing Willowclaw still had not relinquished its grip on the SnowClanner. "Do you really think she should be alone with her thoughts right now?" He returned his attention to Apollo just in time to see a scowl fall from her features.

"She's not made of ice, Eaglestrike. This isn't the first time she's lost someone close, and it probably won't be the last. She'll be fine. Icepetal!" Apollo snagged the other she-cat's attention, "you're on first watch!"

With the watch changes decided, each told to keep an eye on the tabby, Eaglestrike allowed himself to sink down into a grassy patch, fur brushing Littleflame's. The little she-cat was already asleep, flanks rising and falling peacefully. Giving in to a last check he peered round the dip; Rainpatch had started to snore, but a kick in the gut from Apollo shut him up. Icepetal snorted in amusement. Satisfied, he closed his eyes, his last foggy thought something about no one mentioning the loss of Icepetal's family to Apollo.

He knew he was dreaming the moment he opened his eyes to a different forest from the one he'd fallen asleep in. This one was much thicker and darker, forest floor bare of any healthy plants, covered only in a heavy layer of fallen leaves. The trees that rose above him had rough, dark bark protecting them, and their branches started a fair way up the trunks, strong looking boughs that stretched out to tangle with that of their neighbours.

Hushed voices reached his pricked ears and he followed them without a moment's hesitation, curious to see their origin. Coming across a wall of impenetrable trees he paused, admiring the mess of tangled roots that snaked across the ground. The murmuring had grown louder. It was coming from within. Turning he found a path had forced its way through the leaves behind him, disappearing into the wall.

Eaglestrike eyed the path with distrust and then stepped onto it, tail swishing agitatedly. He found it strange to dream of a forest he had never been in. The path led him straight up to the trees, and then curved sharply to the left, following an ancient looking tunnel carved into the thick trucks. It opened up into an archway created by two curling roots, the path spilling out into a spacious area that looked suspiciously like a camp.

Towards the middle of the grassy clearing was a boulder cracked with age. A cat sat on top, looking out over the other gathered under her. The group was large, and they looked very upset, glowering at who Eaglestrike presumed was their leader. He thought she looked familiar but he was too far away to see her clearly.

The leader nodded to an unseen follower, a horrendous screeching sound starting up as the crowd parted to reveal a light-blue pelted she-cat being dragged by her scruff towards the boulder. Blood streamed from a long gash on her side. "Riverblossom," the bleeding she-cat snapped her head up as the leader hissed her name, "Why did you kill your sister?"

Eaglestrike's brow shot up. "I didn't! It wasn't me!" the she-cat protested. The tom gripping her scruff drew another bloody line down her side, and Riverblossom howled.

"I don't have time for lies. Why did you kill your sister?" the leader asked again.

This time Riverblossom's voice was dripping with hatred, "for the same reason you murdered Silentstar. For power."

A chilling silence fell over the crowd. "You know the punishment for murder," the leader ignored the accusation made against her. "Yet you still did it. You really are just like your sisters, bitter and twisted till the end." Growls and hisses rose up.

"You won't kill me, you couldn't even watch when Toadleap was put to death," Riverblossom leered.

The leader swarmed down the boulder, knocked away the tom pinning Riverblossom down, and plunged her claws into the light-blue she-cat's gut, wrenching away the flesh to allow the blood to gush out. Jaw open in a soundless wail Riverblossom jerked when the claws tore up, leaving behind a trail of mutilated flesh. Closing firm jaws around the writhing she-cat's throat; the leader bit down and tore back, blood soaking the white fur on her throat and chest.

Eaglestrike felt the urge to vomit. Why was he dreaming of this? He swore he recognised the white-pelted leader, the leader with blood dripping from her muzzle. She swung her head to look directly at him, intelligent blue eyes filled with enjoyment. A choked gasp ripped from his throat.

"Apollo?" her name was nothing more than a whisper falling from his open mouth.

She grinned, bloodstained teeth sending a shiver down his spine. The world around them vanished in a flash replaced with an endless pitch black void in which they were the only two living creatures. It was painfully silent, Apollo's paw-steps not making a single sound as she prowled around him. Her fur was still stained scarlet, droplets falling and vanishing into the darkness. He didn't dare move, picturing himself plummeting to his death from a dizzying height.

"You don't control me anymore," Apollo's muzzle curved into the smile that usually lit a spark in him; only this time it filled him with fear. She struck and he was bleeding, red waves running down his chest, spilling onto his paws. He was plummeting, falling, twisting, bleeding, shrieking. He was dying.

Eaglestrike jerked awake with a strangled cry. The sky was filled with a soft light, dawn still a little ways off. Beside him Littleflame still slumbered peacefully. Her tail was flicked across Icepetal's flank who'd curled up into a ball as far from the strange tom as possible, beside Littleflame and Rainpatch.

His heart thudded against his rib cage. Apollo wasn't where he'd last seen her, the patch of flattened grass slowly springing back to full length. Mouth turning dry he flicked his eyes in every direction, searching for the missing she-cat that had slit his throat just moments ago. In a dream, he reminded himself. That didn't stop him from swallowing, the feeling of claw slicing his windpipe hauntingly familiar.

Quietly he stepped away from his sleeping friends, dropping into a quick stretch, swivelling his ears around in case of another attempted sneak attack. It was completely normal for him to worry about the absence of a cat that was still a stranger, right? He frowned. Of course it was. He had every right to be suspicious of her, dream or no dream. She'd attacked him. But she was only testing your reflexes, a quiet voice whispered.

"You sleep like the dead."

Apollo's voice made him jump out of his skin. Struggling to calm his accelerated breathing he looked at her over his shoulder. She was picking her way back into the shallow dip with a wide grin looking far too awake for pre-dawn.

"Did I make you jump? Sorry," she laughed.

He shook his head, "no, you just caught me off guard."

"Sure I did," Apollo smirked.

Eaglestrike arched a brow but didn't say anything, just watched as the white-furred she-cat licked her paw and drew it over an ear, combing back the ruffled fur. He'd watched her do this every morning though usually it had been through a half-open eye. She was meticulous, nearly as bad as Icepetal, grooming herself back to perfection after a night's sleep. Snagging a twig from the thick fur in her chest Apollo crunched in between her teeth, wood fragments tumbling to her paws. He wondered what those teeth would feel like tearing at his throat; his fur bristled.

"Do I interest you?"

He blinked, "huh?"

"You're staring," she stated. "Care to explain why?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Eaglestrike looked away, focusing on Littleflame's rising flanks.

Apollo snorted. "You two are very close. Mates?"

"No," he shook his head, the answer perhaps coming a little too slow.

"But you'd like to be?" she assumed. He wasn't looking at her, but he could almost hear her suggestive smile.

"I don't know. It's not that easy. We're from different Clans, and that sort of thing is frowned upon, goes against the Code. Not that anyone really follows the Code anymore. I can't imagine Darkbreeze leaping for joy to see me crawling back with a CedarClan she-cat. Besides," Eaglestrike twitched his tail uncomfortably, "I don't know what I feel, and I sure don't know what she feels. What's the point really if we all die?"

A quiet laugh from Apollo had Eaglestrike snapping his head in her direction. "You're so focused in the fact that you might die. Why? Everyone dies eventually, but not everyone dies a hero. You five, well four, have the chance to die as heroes. Don't squander it."

"Our Clans think we ran away and joined her army. They won't think of us as heroes."

She just sighed and waved her tail in a dismissive matter, successfully putting the topic to bed. "You said your relationship went against a code?"

"The Warrior Code," Eaglestrike supplied, "it's a set of rules that define the way we live. Without them we'd be nothing better than rogues." His mind drifted back to his dream. Apollo had been a leader, a leader of a Clan. Did that mean that she already knew what he was talking about? But he'd watched her kill a member of her Clan in cold blood...He nearly scowled. It had just been a dream, nothing more. Apollo was a loner.

"Go on then, tell me what you think is the most important rule, what one separates you the most from rogues as you say."

"Warriors don't need to kill," Icepetal's frosty voice clawed into their discussion. "But we've all done our fair share of that over the last few moons." She was sitting up, tail flicked over her paws. "The Clans are nothing more than a bunch of murderers pretending they're better than everybody else."

"Icepetal!" Eaglestrike cried, stunned that a Clan warrior could say such things about her flesh and blood.

The SnowClanner shrugged, "you know it's true. Even if we do manage to kill Crimson what will we go back to? We don't follow the laws anymore, who's to say that Clan won't turn on Clan? What if they destroy themselves?"

"Stop," he growled. "I have faith that the Clans can and will pull through this. We can go back to the old times, back when we put those laws above anything else!"

"Back to the old times? You mean when we were ruled over by an afterlife full of psychopathic nutcases who enjoyed chucking twelve of us into a game of 'fight to the death' every few seasons? Face it, Eaglestrike, there hasn't been a time when the Clans haven't had some powerful overlord to force them to follow laws," Icepetal snarled back. "Freedom could come at a cost."

Eaglestrike advanced on Icepetal with a hiss, "what are you saying? Are you saying that we should just abandon this journey? That we should just let Crimson do what she wants? That we should let her get away with all the murders she's committed, all the cats she's taken? My father did not die in vain and I will not let her get away with his murder!"

A heated silence fell, Rainpatch and Littleflame woken by the raised voices, the silence broken only by the sudden shuffling of the strange tom as he groaned, "will ya' shut it for a little longer? I was havin' a glorious nap, though," he shot a pointed glare through murky yellow eyes at Littleflame; "my head's sure thumping bad."

"Sorry," the little warrior mewed quietly, padding softly over to the grumpy tom. "I really didn't mean to hit you so hard."

The tom swept a critical gaze over Littleflame, and then his eyes softened. "No trouble. You were just protectin' yer friends. I can understand that." Those murky eyes ran over the others with a little less kindness, growing especially stony when they reached Eaglestrike and Icepetal. "Not all that sure why yer be wanting to protect those two; been shoutin' at each other and raring to tear each other apart, I reckon."

"Oh they aren't all that bad," Littleflame smiled gently. "We're just a little tired and sore."

Rainpatch cleared his throat, "there is one thing I'd like to ask. Why'd you fall out of a tree onto me?"

"Ah," the tabby looked a little sheepish, "little bit of a fumble when crossin' branches. Nothin' to worry about. Didn't mean to land on ya'."

Rainpatch looked unconvinced. "Who are you?" Eaglestrike demanded crossly. He was too wound up to be dealing with another loopy stranger.

"Ya' could ask a little nicer," the tabby grumped. "The name's Sebastian, best mousecatcher this side of the city."

Littleflame stifled a giggle, "what were you doing up in the trees then?"

"Huntin' squirrels," Sebastian answered confidently. "Didn't get the bastard, scurried away too quick. You lot scared 'im away."

"I doubt that," Eaglestrike growled under his breath.

"What was that? Yer gonna have to speak up, kit, or I ain't gonna hear ya'."

Eaglestrike nearly snarled his disgust at being called a kit, but he let it slide. He'd show the old tomcat just how much of a kit he was.

"What's a city?" Littleflame inquired curiously.

Sebastian looked at Apollo with a wry grin. "Why, ain't you told 'em yet, Apollo? Keepin' secrets again? Not surprised, not surprised at all." To Littleflame he said, "She's from the city, you see."

"You never told us that," Eaglestrike accused Apollo.

Apollo shrugged, "you never asked. I didn't think it was really important."

"Are yer heading back to the city for the battle?" Sebastian asked.

"What battle?" Apollo furrowed her brow.

"Yer been away too long, too long. That evil looking she-devil, I forget her name, she been pushing on the borders for moons. Titan an' Miraz are plannin' something big. They're summonin' all loyal followers to fight for 'em," Sebastian sounded bored. "Figured you'd be turnin' up for such a battle."

"Crimson," Icepetal murmured, "she'll be in the city?"

Sebastian looked at her strangely. "Well, unless she be plannin' to lead her army from her mountain, she'll be there."

The sudden look of excitement on Icepetal's face was nearly contagious, a sight Eaglestrike thought he'd never see again. In her eyes was the promise of war, a chance to fight back for the sake of her stolen family. There was a sliver of a smile on her face, only slight, but it was still there. Saddened, Eaglestrike realised she had never truly smiled unless she was with Willowclaw. Her smile had been stolen the moment he had. But then her eyes met his and they darkened. They all knew he had a motive now, that he wasn't just following this prophecy out of the goodness of his heart.

Four nights ago Rainpatch had praised him, said that he had a great heart for having no other motive behind his want to destroy Crimson. Now they knew the truth. A spoilt cat pretending he was noble just to do what his father could not, to do what his father failed to do that night so many moons ago.

Littleflame was doing it to prove to her Clan – and to herself – that she could, that she wasn't the weak spawn of two great cats, the kit that should have died as an apprentice; to prove that she was great in her own way.

Rainpatch wanted a family, he'd said that many times. He wanted to return home after this was all over and have a family with his mate. "Heathersky's waiting for me," he said that night, "waiting for me to come home. Waiting for our time." As he'd said it he'd looked truly hopeful, truly happy, like he was seeing the birth of his family played out on his eyelids.

Icepetal had so many reasons, and they were all just as noble as the other, not that she would ever believe that. She wanted to see her mother avenged, and her sister given a safe life wherever she'd gone. Perhaps there was a small part of her that was doing it for SnowClan, for the lives she'd left behind, the ones that had exiled her. For Willowclaw she was doing it all. Maybe she didn't know it yet but Eaglestrike did, Icepetal would die for that RogueClan tom. Killing Crimson would reunite them, and maybe that was truly the only real reason she was still even here.

But he, he, Eaglestrike the leader, was only doing it for himself. A selfish goal fuelled by selfish desires born by a selfish father. He was here to prove to everyone that he was not his father, that he was stronger than that snivelling coward who sold out his Clan to lengthen his life. Such a shame that it had not worked. Making a deal with the devil is a dangerous game, and he had lost. Yet even Eaglestrike's family refused to believe their wonderful father had done such a foul thing, and that was why he hated them.

"We can end this," Littleflame's hushed voice caught his attention, and he looked at her. "If she's in the city then we can finish this. We can go home," there was so much hope in her eyes when she looked at him.

Home. The word resonated within him. Home, where he would he hailed as a hero for winning back the Clans freedom.

"Can you get us to the city?" he asked Apollo. He hated that she hadn't told him that she'd come from the city, whatever a city was. It hurt him more than he expected.

Apollo looked at him with a guarded expression, searching his face for something. The shield slipped ever so slightly, a flicker of emotion flitting across her features, pooling in her eyes. For a moment he was lost, drowning in the blue. "If that's what you want but you will not like it there," was her quiet answer.

"What do you mean?" Icepetal pressed, ears flicking back.

"The city is a harsh place filled with corruption. Split in half two bosses rule without morals. Titan believes in himself and only himself, his mate is even more powerful, though she is meek and shy. Miraz is only slightly better, he is the city boss I live under, though I'd never trust him with anything," she laughed bitterly. "If they are planning to work together then Crimson must have them worried, her army must be huge. It will not be safe if the city bosses know who you are."

The stench of death filled the air. "You are not safe here," a pleased voice purred.

Rainpatch groaned, "Can't we ever just have a peaceful morning?"

The elites they'd been running from had found them, surrounding them, trapping them in the shallow dip. An orange tom, the one that had spoke, flashed a charming grin. Beside him, locked in a stalking position, was a yellow she-cat. Eaglestrike thought she looked vaguely familiar.

"Nasty trick you pulled at the river," the yellow she-cat spoke calmly. "Crimson nearly had our heads."

"Wouldn't that have been a shame," Icepetal spat.

The yellow-furred elite narrowed her gaze as it came to rest upon Icepetal, until a spark of recognition zapped through them. "Where is Willowclaw?" the elite growled.

"Rosie!" the orange tom snarled, "shut your mouth!"

But it was far too late for that; Icepetal had surged up the edge, snagged the she-cat between her claws, and dragged her back down. Pinned under Icepetal's claws the elite struggled, hissing and spitting, lashing out with wild strikes that never hit their mark. The rage in the SnowClanner's eyes was molten. Eaglestrike was surprised that the elite hadn't burst into flames.

"Why do you care where Willowclaw is?" Icepetal's snarl was so quiet that Eaglestrike nearly missed it; he had to move a little closer to catch her words.

The elite, Rosie, stopped struggling. Eaglestrike could have sworn her yellow eyes flashed blue. "He is my everything, you rogue, and you took him away. You dragged my best friend away to his death before I could even say goodbye."

Something in Icepetal snapped in that moment, like she couldn't stand to hear a soldier of Crimson talking about Willowclaw as if he was a close friend. Apollo went rigid beside him, her bristling pelt brushing against his own. A quiet breath swept from between her lips.

"You don't even know him, soldier," Icepetal dug her claws into the flesh around Rosie's eyes, watching small beads of blood roll to the ground. "You're delusional."

"Rosie," there was a warning imbedded in the orange tom's tone, "stop talking. We're here to take the Chosen to Crimson, not make up stupid stories." Laughter rolled from the chests of the other soldiers. They looked down at Rosie with scorn.

One quick slice and Rosie was blinded, howling as blood dripped from her eyes. Icepetal just watched with a stony expression as her quarry writhed under her claws. "I wonder where you soldiers go after you die," she breathed, lowering her head to utter the words into Rosie's ear.

"The same place you go, Icepetal," Rosie gasped.

"Have we met before?"

"I tore out a few lumps of your fur in a border spat seven moons ago. You stole a squirrel from RogueClan, remember?"

Eaglestrike blinked, completely dumbfounded. Was this soldier insane?

"I stole prey from RogueClan all the time. You'll have to be more specific, though I don't remember ever being caught by soldiers," Icepetal spoke thoughtfully.

Rosie sucked in a deep breath when Icepetal's claws scoured shallowly across her throat. "I wasn't a soldier back then."

"You were a Clan cat?" Littleflame couldn't keep the disgust out of her voice. "Why would you join Crimson's army? We hate her..."

"I was searching for Willowclaw! My name isn't Rosie, it's Plummet, and I'm a warrior from RogueClan! All the murders I've committed as commanded by Jinx I committed for Willowclaw, so that I could search the whole world to find him before he died. But when I find the cats that took him away, he is not with them," pain filled Plummet's voice. "He's dead, isn't he? You killed him!"

She was choking on her own blood in the next heartbeat, her body jerking and convulsing as death crept closer. "T-Tell him," she choked out, "t-that I will s-see him again." Her next breath was her last.

"No," Icepetal said, "I won't."

The soldiers were on them in heartbeats, ripping and tearing to avenge their fallen member. Lost in the heat of battle Eaglestrike fought for everything he lived for. He fought for his Clan, for the freedom he wanted to give to them. He fought for the belief that he was not his father that he wasn't going to turn out like him. He fought for Littleflame, and he fought for Apollo, because, despite his constant inner debates, he found himself drawn to both. Littleflame was who he had always imagined himself with, a weaker she-cat that needed to be protected, and it would be his job to protect her whether she appreciated it or not. Apollo didn't need anyone but herself, she was dangerous, mysterious, an enigma he wanted to puzzle over for days, something he would never grow bored of. One of them he wanted, the other he only thought he wanted.

"Stop. Eaglestrike, stop. It's over; they ran away, you can stop now. Please," Littleflame was pleading with him to stop. But stop what? He was fighting to protect her, isn't that what she wanted. In a surge of dislike he remembered that she didn't want his protection, but she still wanted him. How strange. The soldier beneath his claws had been reduced to a bloody mess, stomach torn open and spread out around him.

"I didn't mean to," he breathed, backing up so quickly he fell onto his haunches. There was so much blood, so much blood on the ground, so much blood on his paws. He vaguely heard the others speaking quietly about how far the city was. Sebastian gestured in the direction they had been travelling the previous day, Apollo confirming. The city was just beyond the forest, less than a day away; Crimson was less than a day away.

But Eaglestrike could not care how far away the city was. Not when he knew what he was becoming, the thing he had tried so hard to avoid. He was becoming his father. He travelled with this knowledge, left the mutilated body he had torn apart behind, walked with the others like he didn't have anything on his mind. They couldn't find out, they wouldn't trust him anymore, they'd cast him out. Littleflame would look at him with disgust.

The forest thinned out, ending on the verge of a towering mess of stone trees that stretched high into the sky, ruined and wrecked, nature invading in droves of greenery, clinging to every surface, growing between the cracks. The city in all its glory.

an: so like the swearing rainpatch did when sebastian jumped him was not removed simply because both swyfte and i thought it was far too hilarious to remove. in other news cITY ARC YES.