NB: Apologies for the delay-I'm back at school now, so chapters will be coming at a slower pace.
Saffron awoke to a beautiful dawn.
The heavy golden sun hung like a ripe peach over the eastern horizon, piercing flower-pink clouds with strong fingers. From those clouds drifted thick swathes of mist, each droplet turned into a miniature rainbow by reflection. The air was cool, but not leaf-bare cold; it was the perfect invisible temperature. The fog seemed to give off a clean, sharp smell that refreshed his senses and seemed to stir life into his sleepy blood.
The mist ran its fingers through his fur then, and Saffron sighed. His golden coat was now dusted with beads of moisture. He shook himself in a futile attempt to get dry and gently prodded Hollyleaf from inside the tree-log where they had spent what was left of the night. They were in the forest, with the Twoleg cowplace a few minutes' walk for a healthy cat.
His mate climbed out of their makeshift den, her fur ruffled. Her green eyes were still as clear as ever, and there was no trace of exhaustion in her mew, despite their late night.
"Did Willowshine make it here?"
Saffron shrugged. "I don't know. I've been asleep." Usually they kept watch throughout the darkness, but after the bloody scene the night before both cats had just wanted to surrender themselves to oblivion. Hollyleaf nodded in understanding and flexed, her thorn-claws digging into the moist earth.
"So," the golden tom said carefully, "now what?"
Hollyleaf looked him in the eyes. "We made a deal."
"No," he mewed simply. "We agreed we would guide them home in return for safety. There is no safety with them anymore. The wolf is gone, and most of them are dead."
The black she-cat sighed and shook her head. "It's not just that. They're my Clanmates…we shared a home. I may not be a warrior anymore, but I still bear a warrior name, so I think I have a duty to see them safely back to their territories."
"You aren't a warrior to them," he mewed gently. "You're Leaf, the black loner who just happened to run into them in their hour of need. They may not be smart enough to recognise an old denmate, but even they will smell something suspicious."
Hollyleaf straightened her spine. "Look at it this way. We've lived as mercenaries. We take orders from sadistic tyrants and take lives at their whim. I don't regret it…not exactly, anyway…but we did it because we knew that inside ourselves we were good cats. But if we walk away from a group of injured cats, and they die because we didn't help…we can't exactly make the same claims, can we?" Her eyes were shadowed, and Saffron felt his heart soften.
"Okay," he decided. "Sure. Why not? Our conscience is our only law. Let's go."
Hollyleaf looked at him. "Do you mean that or are you just saying it?"
Saffron smiled. "Would you kill me if I said that it might be a little of both? I don't like these cats. They're arrogant, foolish, and haven't the sense of a blind kit. They believe themselves to be superior to all cats, simply because one of them had the bright idea seasons ago that things might be a little easier if they joined forces. I don't want to help them, but if you insist, I'll do it."
His mate twitched her tail. "I came from those cats, Saffron."
He nodded. "I know," he said with a small grin. "That's why it took me so long to break you of the habit."
She swatted at him with her paw. "Oh, hush, you, before I pull out your ears. Anyway, we need to find Willowshine." She hesitated. "Do you think we should have left her alone?"
Saffron shrugged. "It was the right decision at the time. It was hardly a difficult thing for her to do. We'll probably find her a bit closer to the cowplace, though-she wouldn't have wandered far from what she knew."
Hollyleaf nodded and the two cats fanned out among the damp trees, moving like liquid shadows through the foggy undergrowth. They made no noise as they paced through the green; as befitted as two predators who together had seen and done more than any other animal in these woods.
Suddenly Saffron halted, his sharp eyes picking out the insubstantial form of a small cat crouched underneath a bush. The cowplace was in plain sight, and the black-and-white animals' pungent smell made him wrinkle his nose. There were traces of dog in the area; stale, but enough to make him prick up his ears and step lightly. The dogs at this cowplace were fierce and bloodthirsty; Hollyleaf had told him about the time she had nearly lost her life being chased by them.
"Willowshine?" he called, and the misty silhouette lifted its head. Slowly Willowshine emerged into clear view, and Hollyleaf joined them at a flick of his tail.
"Thank StarClan you found me!" the little grey she-cat mewed softly, casting glances over her shoulder. "I smelt dog, but I didn't dare go any deeper into the woods…"
"It's okay," Hollyleaf mewed. "The dogs go wandering around here sometimes, but only in the afternoons. The rest of the time they're kept locked up." Her confident voice seemed to soothe Willowshine, and she looked at her old friend gratefully.
The medicine cat sat up. "Are you going to help me find the rest of the Clan cats?" she mewed tentatively. Saffron knew that she meant it as a question, not a request.
"Yes." Hollyleaf said firmly, with a brief glance at him. Saffron nodded in agreement. "We are," he said simply.
"Thank you," said Willowshine in obvious relief. She looked around. "I don't know how to find them in this," she admitted. "I can't pick up any scents."
"It'll be hard in this fog," agreed Hollyleaf. "I think we should head back to the fields where the battle was, and try and find a trail there."
Willowshine looked at Hollyleaf with sad affection. "I always thought you would be a Clan leader one day, Hollyleaf."
Hollyleaf said nothing, but the fur across her shoulders bristled ever-so-slightly. "I don't think I have the right background." Before Willowshine could respond, she was trotting briskly past the cowplace, following the path of the night before.
When they stopped at the bottom of the hill that gave rise to the barren plains, Saffron nodded to them both. "Don't look at the corpses. Trust me, sometimes…you just don't want to know."
Willowshine suddenly looked fierce. "I have to know," she said firmly. "What if I'm the only Clan cat left?"
"She's a medicine cat, Saffron," murmured Hollyleaf. "They see things like this all the time."
Saffron shrugged. "Have it your way."
They crested the hill, and both he and Hollyleaf ducked their heads to avoid seeing the dead. Willowshine listed their names anyway.
"Spiderleg. Robinwing. Beetlewhisker…Squirrelflight." Hollyleaf made a choked sound in her throat before lowering her head to the ground. "Owlwhisker, Crowfeather" -Hollyleaf flinched again –"Smokefoot…Rowanclaw."
"He was that foul-tempered ginger tom, wasn't he?" mewed Saffron softly.
Hollyleaf and Willowshine both nodded silently.
"You've got to admit, though," mewed Saffron, determined to stay cheerful, "that could have been much worse. You've still got at least half your original cats left, not including the to-be.
Hollyleaf looked at Willowshine. "Who would be left?"
The medicine cat closed her eyes. "Lionblaze, of course. Thornclaw, Tigerheart, Tawnypelt, Harespring, Heathertail, Petalfur, and Reedwhisker."
"There you go," mewed Saffron, forcing an optimistic tone of voice. "Eleven cats, if you count us-twelve, with the to-be. Still enough to round up a wolf and guide it back."
"I doubt it," mewed Willowshine softly. "We kept the wolf sedated with special herbs. They would have worn off by now."
"Still, you'll have to try, right?" said Hollyleaf. "You're a medicine cat-you can't just give up."
Willowshine smiled. "No, I guess I can't. Let's find those scents."
They did not have to search long. Though the scent of blood and terror was strong, there was a patch of scents that were stronger still.
"These are fresh," Saffron reported. "A few hours at most."
"Looks like someone's done our work for us," observed Hollyleaf.
"Let's go!" demanded Willowshine, digging at the earth with her claws in impatience.
Between Hollyleaf and Willowshine, they had managed to identify every scent in the patch-all of the cats named alive by the grey she-cat earlier. But padding a little way ahead, the only cat who did not smell injured strode with heavy paws that pressed the damp ground into prints.
Lionblaze.