Chapter 12
It was early the next morning when Kite awoke. The sweet scent of hay reminded her where she was. She gazed around the hay loft, trying to find Barley or Ravenpaw. She scented the air, and found that their scents were stale, at least one night old. Kite rose to her paws, stretching rather stiffly, and leapt down from the loft onto a bale of hay.
"Ravenpaw?" she called. "Barley?" Kite knew that she had to leave as soon as possible, but she refused to leave without thanking the two loners for allowing her to stay for the night. A rat darted past the ginger she-cat, and she pounced on it swiftly and delivered the killing blow to the creature's neck. She was glad she had inherited her mother's hunting skills. She settled down and devoured the rat quickly to calm her rumbling belly. Then she groomed herself thoroughly, picking out any stray bits of hay with her teeth. By the time the sun had risen all the way, turning the barn into a house of colors and dancing dust motes, Ravenpaw and Barley still had not returned. Kite sniffed the air once more. Their scent trails led out the door of the barn. Curious, Kite followed the trails. They wound down the hill on which the barn sat, towards the Thunderpath. Once they had gotten to the edge of the smelly black surface, the trails turned abruptly and ran towards the forest on the west side of the barn, away from the Clans' territories. Kite quickened her pace to a steady trot. The trails led through a thick, rocky forest, where the ground was sloped, uneven, and covered with sharp stones. Kite had to focus all of her energy on her paws to keep herself from getting cut by the rocks that stuck out of the ground at odd angles.
As the trails wound on, the rocks in the ground got larger, towering over Kite, seeming to close her in. The scent trails wound around the rocks. Soon, Kite heard the soft babble of a stream. She was tempted to pad down to the bank of the stream and take a drink, but she didn't want to lose the scent trails. Instead, she pressed on, keeping herself as close to the trails as possible. Suddenly, they veered to the right, out of the rocks and down toward the stream, where it had widened out into a large, swiftly-running river. Kite dashed down the slope and sniffed the air. A sudden moist feeling on her paws made her look down, and she realized that she was standing in a pool of dark crimson blood.
Kite screeched, reeling backwards into a stone. She hit her head and fell to the ground. She lay there for a moment, dazed, as she tried to gather her thoughts. It might not be Barley or Ravenpaw's blood. For all she knew, it could be a rodent's blood, or the blood of something they had eaten earlier. After a few moments, the ginger she-cat stood and padded back to the pool of blood, scenting the air once more for Barley or Ravenpaw. Their scent trails ended abruptly at the edge of the river. Now Kite felt a genuine bolt of panic pulse through her veins. Her head grew hot with fear, as it often did, and she began to pace back and forth.
Follow the river, she told herself over and over again. The river will lead you to them. Kite nodded to herself and followed the river downstream.
--X
It was nearly sunset when Kite got to the end of the river. There was a spot on the grass which was moister than the rest, and the she-cat suspected that her two companions had exited the river here. She longed to try and find their scent trails again, but her stomach growled with hunger, and so she sniffed the air again, this time searching for prey scent. She caught the scents of several possible meals, and tried to screen through them to find the freshest scents. There was finch, water vole, and mouse, from what she could tell.
Kite finally decided that a nice, plump water vole was just what she needed, and set off to find it. She found the creature nibbling at a grass root near the river's edge. She dropped into a hunter's crouch, which she had also inherited from her mother, and stalked forward slowly, keeping her weight on her hind paws as best as she could. Just as she was a whisker length away from pouncing, the water vole looked up, saw Kite, and jumped into the river. Kite dashed to the water's edge, scooped the vole out with her claws before it could drown, and killed it swiftly. She grunted, upset that her meal was soaked, but sat down and gobbled it up ravenously anyway.
The taste of the water vole soothed Kite and opened her up a bit more. She looked around for the first time, much less engrossed in searching for her new friends. The trees, growing so close together, rose high above the she-cat's head, and their leaves made a canopy, protecting the wildlife below from harsh breezes. The rocks were full of gaping holes that probably served as dens for many wild creatures. Birds sang jubilantly from the lower branches of the trees. Each bird sang a different song, but they all blended together in a way that Kite couldn't quite understand. It was almost like a lullaby…
--X
Kite's eyes snapped open. She hadn't realized that she had fallen asleep. She listened once more for the birdsong, but the birds were long gone. It was past midnight now, and the air had grown much colder. Kite shivered, longing to be snuggled up in her warm nest of sweet-smelling hay.
Hay? Hay…Barn…Barley…Ravenpaw…Barley! Ravenpaw! Kite quickly made the connections in her head, and her day's journey returned in a rush to her: The intertwining scent trails, the pool of blood, the birds' lullabies. A stab of fear ripped through Kite's chest. She was alone in the forest in the middle of the night with no way to get home. She rose to her paws, ignoring the screaming protests of her sore limbs, and trotted along through the forest. It was up to her nose to relocate Barley's and Ravenpaw's scent trails once more. This time, she found them more easily. But they were intertwined with many, many more scents, scents that burned Kite's nose, making it hard for her to breathe. There was a splash, and Kite could smell the metallic reek of blood. She bit back a wail of terror. The thick canopy of leaves above her head didn't allow any moonlight to enter, and therefore it was pitch black. She had no idea of which way she was going, and so she plodded on blindly, through more pools of blood.
A sudden flash of bright light startled Kite, causing her to snap her eyes shut. The light was displeasing to her eye, but she tried to adjust to the brightness as quickly as possible. In the light she could see two small figures and several larger figures dancing around. More pools of blood. There was one figure, taller than all the rest, standing above them, waving its massive paw in the air and hooting in some familiar language. It was a Twoleg! And the group of large figures dancing around the two smallest figures were large dogs! The Twoleg seemed to be cheering the dogs on as they slaughtered the two small shapes. Kite ducked behind a rock and watched eagerly.
She had probably missed most of the battle, for soon after, one of the figures fell limp, and the other darted into the trees. The Twoleg gave a loud cheer and summoned the dogs, who trotted away obediently. The Twoleg left the light on and went into its nest, the dogs following joyously.
Kite darted toward the limp figure on the ground. She knew who it was before she got close enough, though she refused to accept it until she was certain. The figure was stained with dark red blood, but Kite could just see the tiniest hint of white fur underneath it all.
"Barley?" Kite whispered, drawing herself forward cautiously. "Barley, is that you?" Her voice broke in the middle of the sentence and trailed off. Barley's limp figure was surrounded by blood dripping from several large, deep wounds on his flanks, face, and limbs. His eyes were closed, and blood poured from under the lids. Had the dogs cut his eyes right out of his head, too?
"Kite?" the she-cat's head shot up at the sound of her name. Ravenpaw's lithe figure slunk silently out of the trees and came to stand by her side. "I'm sorry you had to see this, but…"
"Ravenpaw," the gasp made Kite jump in shock. "Ravenpaw," the voice repeated. It was Barley! He lifted his head weakly, his eyes opening. Kite cringed, looking away.
Barley's eyes were shredded up. His pupils had disappeared completely, along with his irises, and blood poured from the puncture wounds the dogs had left behind.
"Yes, Barley?" Ravenpaw asked, padding forward fearlessly.
"Keep Kite safe for me," Barley murmured. "Take her to Marcina's home. She'll let her in, I'm sure. When I'm gone…"
"You're not going!" Kite cried suddenly. Ravenpaw's eyes widened at the she-cat's sudden outburst. "Ravenpaw," Kite snapped, whipping her head around to face the tom. "You know your way out of here, right? Good. Now, take the fastest route possible out of here. Get to ThunderClan's territory. Talk to Cinderpelt. Bring her and a warrior escort out here. Tell them it's urgent. I'll stay with Barley. Now go."
"But…" Ravenpaw protested.
"Go!" Kite yowled fiercely. She didn't like the frightened face Ravenpaw made, but she was satisfied by the effect it had on him. The young tom turned immediately and dashed away. Kite turned back to Barley. "It's going to be OK," she whispered softly to the old loner. "You're going to be fine, I promise. Nothing's going to hurt you. Not while I'm around. I swear on my life that you will not die. Not today."
Barley let out a soft mewl of protest as Kite grabbed him by the scruff and dragged him toward a rock, just out of the light's reach, with a hole in it. Kite inspected the hole thoroughly. It went down through the rock and into the ground a ways, and was covered by a thin layer of twigs and leaves at the bottom. There was no scent of any other animals that might be occupying the burrow, and so Kite hoisted Barley into the hole, setting him down gently on the bottom.
"I'm going to go get you some food," Kite whispered. "I won't be long, I promise. And I'll be close by, so if anyone comes near you, I'll protect you. Just focus on breathing. Rest your eyes, and try to get some sleep, OK?" Before the tom could protest, Kite turned and padded away.
Prey wasn't nearly as hard to find now that dawn was approaching rapidly. Mice scurried around in the undergrowth. Kite managed to catch three before she decided to go back to Barley's stone hollow. She dropped two mice down to him and ordered him to eat, since he hadn't been able to fall asleep. She watched him as he stretched his neck out, wincing, and took a small bite. Chewing seemed to be a pain for him, so Kite didn't pressure him to eat too much, just what he could.
By the time the sun had fully risen, Barley had dropped into a light sleep, his breathing ragged and shallow. Weary as she was, Kite refused to leave the loner's side until Ravenpaw returned. So instead, she watched the leaves blow in the light breeze that did not enter the thick forest. Little patches of sunlight forced their way through the leaf canopy, making little shapes on the ground. Dust motes danced in the light, reminding Kite of the barn, which had been her refuge not even a whole day ago. There, she had felt safe and protected, and now, she was sitting outside a stone hollow with a dying tomcat, waiting for a loner to bring back a group of Clan cats. If Kite were someone else, she would have laughed at herself, but she knew she couldn't leave Barley for dead. Not after he had given her shelter, even if only for a night.
--X
It was nightfall when Barley awoke again. "Kite?" he called out in a tired, strained voice.
"I'm here," Kite whispered.
"It hurts, Kite," Barley moaned.
"I know, I know," Kite mewed. "Don't worry, though. Ravenpaw's going to bring ThunderClan's medicine cat. She's going to get you cured."
"I can't see anything."
"I know."
"It's scary, Kite."
"I know. I promise, though, we'll make sure you live."
"I don't think I'll be able to live much longer. I can hardly breathe."
"You've got to hang on for just a while longer. I'm sure Ravenpaw will be back by tomorrow morning. And then all the pain will go away."
"Is there anything for me to eat?"
"Yes. I caught a finch while you were sleeping. I'm not hungry. You can have it." Kite grasped the finch by its tail feathers and dropped it in the hollow by Barley's paws. "There. Now, dig in."
"I'm so thirsty, Kite," Barley whispered, his voice gravely.
"I'll get you some wet moss later," Kite meowed. "For now, eat as much as you can and get some rest. You need to save your strength."
"OK," Barley meowed. "Thank you, Kite, for staying with me."
"I'll never leave you," Kite assured him. "As long as you need me, I will be there for you."
"Thank you."
Kite listened to Barley as he munched on the finch. She counted how many bites he took.
1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...
After he dropped off to sleep, Kite counted his ragged breaths.
…15...16...17...18...19...20...21...22...23...24...25...
This went on and on until finally she, too, dropped off to sleep.