Chapter 14
The wind blew across the open terrain, the air filling with acrid, metallic scents. The cawing of crows and the scurrying of rats' feet are the only sounds in earshot, seemingly amplified against the backdrop of silence. Sinister shadows dance in the moonlight.
Home sweet home, thought Thornfang on his solitary midnight patrol. He rather enjoyed prowling along RustClan's borders every evening by himself. It gave him a chance to gather his thoughts, and have a reprieve from his constant duties as deputy.
But something bothered him on this night, tugging at the edge of his consciousness... something was not as it should be. He continued to draw the breeze over the roof of his mouth, tasting the air for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing.
Wait; no, there was something—and it was definitely reason for worry! Thornfang immediately changed direction and swiftly dashed in the direction of the trouble. It was a WoodClan warrior.
The warrior was already in the junkyard. It was several precious moments before Thornfang could locate him. He sat hidden in a pile of Twoleg scrap, watching the intruder creep stealthily on his four legs. Fortunately for the RustClan deputy, the scents of the junkyard, so unfamiliar to the WoodClan cat, disguised him perfectly. Thornfang was just about to confront the enemy when he recognized him: it was Swiftclaw, the loner! A grin crossed Thornfang's face. I might actually enjoy dealing with this!
"Well, well, if the poor little alley cat didn't stray too far from home again! There's no one to save you here, Swiftclaw! You're all mine!"
The startled Swiftclaw turned towards Thornfang, a priceless expression of fear and alarm showing in his round eyes. The WoodClan warrior hesitated a moment... and fled.