Thanks to Through Another's Eyes for reviewing! Yes, I know, I am getting really bad with my updates. The worst thing is, I don't have any excuses -_-'
DISCLAIMER: Warriors is property of the Erins. Cue the little 'C' thing in a circle that means it's trademarked.
Twelve
"Chicory..."
Chicory groaned and shuddered weakly. She didn't want to respond.
"Chicory..."
If she responded, she would remember. And with remembering came only pain.
"Come on, now, Chic..."
Who did that ridiculously persistant voice belong to? Only a couple of cats dared to call her 'Chic'...
"It's almost sunhigh, Chic, we have to get moving."
"Ugh, shut up, Ivy," moaned Chicory. It was all flooding back now, as hard as she tried to stopper it up, complete with a great pounding in her head.
"Well!" The tortoiseshell tom looked affronted. "I was only telling you that it would probably be a good idea to wake up, particularly as your brother's brought you some breakfast."
"Huh?" With a great effort, Chicory sat up, blinking in the bright sun. Sure enough, a mouse, warm and soft enough to have been recently killed, lay at her paws.
They were still in the same place they had been left last night, right on the brink of Twolegplace. Chicory's whole body was stiff from sleeping on hard Twoleg stuff all night, and her fur was ruffled and grimy thanks to the foul-smelling winds that the monsters on the Thunderpath swept up. Chicory wondered how Pine had even been able to find a mouse in these squalid conditions - she herself could smell no trace of prey-scent. Immediately, guilt swept her for oversleeping and wallowing in self-pity.
The white-furred she-cat bent down, even though the muscles in her neck objected, and demolished the mouse in several rapid bites.
"Where is he?" asked Chicory, after kicking the bones into a glossy-leaved bush. "And where's... where's Chrys?"
Ivy gave a shrug. "I suppose Pine went to catch something for himself," he meowed. "But I don't know where our little kit is."
Chicory didn't like the way he said our little kit - it sounded far too much like the two of them were the mother and father of a litter of kits.
The words also caught her offguard, not to mention the nonchalence with which they were said. "What do you mean, you don't know?" she asked, her voice climbing several octaves as her heartbeat quickened.
"For the stars' sake, calm down!" Ivy's mew was quite alarmed. "Look, we can go and look for him if you want. I hate to see my Chicory upset like this."
Chicory grunted with embarrassment. "Chrys is a she-Twoleg," she muttered, not wanting to admit that she appreciated Ivy's offer considerably.
###
"Chrys!" yowled Ivy loudly.
"Shhh!" Chicory hushed him. "Not so loud. You'll bring all the Twolegs out here with your yowling." Her blue eyes darted left and right nervously. "Besides, Chrys doesn't speak our language."
Ivy fell silent. "Twolegs are mousebrained," he muttered. "I think we should listen for her wailing."
Chicory didn't answer, but instead stopped short and pricked her ears. She strained her hearing to beyond the whoosh of monsters on the Thunderpath, and beyond the rowdy chatter and heavy footfalls of Twolegs milling around out of sight. The fur on the back of her neck fluffed up as she heard the wail of a Twoleg kit, but it wasn't Chrysanthemum.
"Hear anything?" Ivy's low mew broke Chicory's concentration. The white she-cat shook her head silently, kneading her paws on the hard ground.
"Nothing." She sighed quietly. "And who knows where Pine is, either?"
She almost jumped out of her fur when Ivy's tail ran down her spine, trying to soothe her.
"I'm going to find them for you, Chic," he mewed softly. "I promise it on the moon and the stars and my sister's life."
Chicory gazed at him wonderingly, shyly, confused. Blue eyes met amber for a heartbeat before Ivy tossed his head arrogantly and dashed away, further up the side of the Thunderpath.
The palely-striped she-cat gave herself a moment to gather herself up before setting off after him.
Oh, he was going to get cocky now. It was the first time she hadn't pulled away.
###
Pine could only find one word for the situation he found himself in - awkward. What had he been thinking, running off to talk with his sister's beloved little Twoleg kit? It's not even like the thing can understand me, the brown tom thought ruefully. But maybe there was something about the kit's gurgling, carefree nature that reminded him that he was growing up far too quickly.
"I'm only nine moons old!" he whispered pathetically to Chrysanthemum as he led the little Twoleg around the outskirts of another Twoleg nest. "I shouldn't have to betray either my sister or my mother!" And my father's memory, he added silently.
For the truth of it was, Pine felt terribly guilty for abandoning Holly for the sake of this kit. He had desperately wanted to run back to Holly and all of the cats he had known his whole life, but he was afraid - afraid of hurting his timid sister. He had always been the one to protect her - how could that change? If only Chicory would have agreed to abandon Chrysanthemum!
And so he had decided that the thing keeping Chicory here must go. Chrysanthemum must die, he reasoned, and then surely Chicory would agree to return to the group of loch cats.
But as Pine sat there on the outskirts of Twolegplace, grappling with his conscience and trying to persuade himself to do the deed, the situation had just turned awkward. He had begun to feel extremely silly.
"Oh, for the stars' sake..." Pine muttered to himself. Chrysanthemum's pale eyes gazed blankly back at him. "I don't want to do this!" But what choice do I have?
For what seemed to be hundreth time, he steeled himself and unsheathed his claws. Here it goes. But at the very last heartbeat, when he was a hairsbreadth away from slashing that plump face, something held him back.
Pine cursed under his breath and screwed up his eyes. Mousebrain. Mousebrain. Mousebrain.
He didn't open his eyes when Chrysanthemum's wail sliced the still air. Let her cry. She was always crying.
But when heavy steps, too heavy to belong to a cat, reached his ears, suspicion began forming in his mind. If only Chrysanthemum would stop yowling, then maybe he'd be able to think-
Screwing up his eyes still tighter was a mistake, as Pine found out not two heartbeats after performing this action. Only when Twoleg cries of sympathy and shock could be heard right above him did he open his eyes - but by then it was clearly already too late.
Several Twolegs had emerged out of the nest nearest to them, and despite the fact that Pine and Chrysanthemum were half-hidden in an ancient, scrubby bush, the two of them had obviously already been spotted.
Chrysanthemum was already in one of the older Twolegs' grasp, cradled in some way between its front legs and paws. She was still red with wailing, but it was less of a wail now, more an upset-sounding hiccup.
Before Pine could register more than 'Twolegs - bad - escape needed', another Twoleg had scooped him up and was firmly holding him by the scruff.
Paws flailing in every direction, Pine felt panic bubbling inside him as the Twolegs started to carry them towards their nest.
Help me, Windflower! the brown tom thought desperately. Help me, anyone!