Chapter 15:
Harsh and piercing sunlight stabbed through the densely packed branches above as Alfred, Matthew and Arthur padded through the undergrowth. As the sun had continued to grow steadily stronger overhead, Arthur had turned their direction towards a park nearby the current path. It was strangely undisturbed after the earth shake, no sign of damage or uproar to be seen. No cat scent either, which they all had been thankful for. After their encounter with the rouge, none of the brothers where anxious to meet anyone else.
The trees provided welcomed shade, even if the heat could still be felt in the very air around them. Alfred and Matthew pelted along, ginger spotted kit in the lead, as they burst through piles of fallen leaves; giggling and squealing with joy as they went. Their direction was meandering and purposeless, and their destination a mystery; as the cats had no other home to speak of, or any other safe place. Arthur's focus was set towards getting to a location with food and shelter that was far away from danger.
Though it seemed to be the only thing the tom could focus on. Whereas Matthew and Alfred seemed unaffected by the intense warmth that wrapped around them, Arthur could practically feel it tickling every inch of his pelt. His eyes were slightly glazed, his vision swam and blurred, and his mind was scattered with traces of broken thought that refused to be placed in coherent sentences. His head and tail drooped, his paws dragged against the dusty ground, and he panted heavily, as if unable to get enough air.
What's… wrong with me?
Arthur was unable to answer that himself. His side burned like crazy… stupid sun… where were those two going…?
"Ha ha ha!" Alfred pounced ahead, crashing through another grouping of leaves, scattering the dimly colored fronds across the ground. Matthew stopped short of the wreckage, choosing instead to watch for a moment as Alfred entertained himself by prancing and leaping after the few leaves left twirling in the breeze.
He sat to clean his fur as they waited for Arthur to catch up; slow as usual. While Matthew was distracted, Alfred paused, crouched low to the ground. With a snicker, he flicked is tail and gathered a small grouping of leaves in his paws. Trying to indiscreetly push them forward, he crept silently behind his brother. With a grin, Alfred slowly slipped his paws under the pile. Matthew continued to swipe his tongue along his chest, oblivious to his brother's antics. After a moment of anticipation… Alfred swept the leaves upward with a heave and a yowl, scattering them over his brother's back and scaring him out of his fur.
Matthew squeaked, leaping up his spot on the ground, and turning with fur fluffed angrily to the ginger spotted tom-kit rolling on his back in the leaves. With a 'humph,' but a humorous smile, Matthew swatted a few at his brother's face, grabbing his attention.
The cream kit crouched in front of his brother, waving a tail in the air and giggling softly. Alfred responded in kind before the two ran off chasing after one another through the tall trunks. They ran in circles for what felt both like hours and a few seconds before collapsing in an exhausted heap on the floor, panting heavily as they stretched their weary paws.
The two exchanged a quick look, and busted out into joyful laughter as a result. Alfred's spirits where higher than ever. His stomach was full, they were away from danger, and he was playing with his brother. With Matthew. This was a big deal. The normally shy tom often opted out of his brother's invitations to race down the yard, preferring to stick to the shadows or his stuffed toys. But now, he had engaged Alfred this time, in a game of chase; Matthew hated chase!
Alfred couldn't be bothered to wonder why; he was much too elated for that. They sat there quietly, staring at the canopy of branches above for a few more moments, before something moving outside their vision caught Alfred's attention. A ginger shape was padding forward through the bushes towards them.
"Hey, Arthur's finally here!" Matthew sat up, looking towards where their brother was approaching with light and humor in his eyes.
Alfred quickly dashed forward.
"Hey, slowpoke! Nice of you to show up!" he jeered to Arthur as he approached.
Something lifted the fur along Matthew's spine, and he took a quick sniff of the air. A poisoned and sour scent pinched his nose, and the cream kit tipped his head in confusion as he studied his eldest brother from where he sat. The ginger tom staggered from the undergrowth, his whole body swaying as he stepped. His paws dragged the ground, and he stumbled over his shallow steps many times in the midst of his stride. Arthur's head hung low, ears flat and gaze down, trained on the earth. His sides heaved as he appeared to be gasping for air. Matthew's eyes widened and he dashed forward in an effort to catch up with his brother.
"Alfred! Alfred! Something's wrong with Arthur!"
Alfred slowed his pace slightly as he gave Matthew a curious glance.
"Huh?"
A thwump resonated through the forest. To most, it would have been an inconsequential whisper, but to the brothers, it was a sound as loud as thunder.
Arthur was on the ground, flopped over on one side, breathing heavily and with great struggle as his limbs twitched feebly in the dirt.
Alfred's eyes widened in horror; jaw falling open to release the silent cry that never left his mouth. Chills ran down Matthew's spine, and he sped up in a furious effort to reach Arthur. Alfred leapt forward; disbelief fueling his paws as both brothers raced to their fallen guardian.
"Arthur!" Matthew reached him first as Alfred skidded to a stop; his paws almost becoming rooted in the ground.
The cream tom lifted a paw to his ginger brother's forehead. His paws felt a flash of warmth; intense heat radiating from him. Arthur opened his eyes for only a moment, the emeralds glazed and out of focus, before closing them again as he fell unconscious.
"He has a fever." Matthew spoke to no one in particular. Alfred was still frozen in shock and despair; eyes trained intensely on the body and yet not really seeing it.
Matthew pressed an ear to Arthur's chest. The rapid beating of his heart reverberated against the sensitive hairs within.
"He's having trouble breathing… it's like something is straining his body…" then a sharp stench caught his attention.
Turning violet eyes to Arthur's side, Matthew moved to comb a paw through his fur. One came away sticky and wet, the fur matted in red.
Blood.
There were four curved lines running down part of Arthur's shoulder and side; blood still flowing in small trickles through his pelt. The edges were turning yellow where the skin was slightly exposed, and it reeked of rot.
Dred crept up Matthew's fur; hackles rising as his mind turned over and over in a struggle for solution. His eyes turned to Alfred, the cat who always had a plan, and finally noticed his shaking.
His brother was trembling like a leaf, eyes watering and claws scraping the dirt as he fought in relentless combat of inner turmoil at seeing his older brother lying, possibly dead on the ground, and yet he could do absolutely nothing.
Alfred would be of no help. Arthur was unconscious. Matthew was on his own for this one. The light from the sun intensified for a moment, and a familiar spark lit Matthew's eyes.
"Alfred." He padded over to his almost comatose brother. There was no response from the ginger spotted tom.
"Alfred." Nothing again.
"Alfred!" Matthew roughly shoved him to the ground.
Alfred squealed at the impact, thrashing in the dirt as he found his sense.
"Wha… whaa… what?" he gazed uncertainly at Matthew.
"Get up. I need you."
Alfred staggered to his feet as Matthew led him over to where Arthur still lay. At the sight of his wounds, Alfred gaged slightly, and Matthew wondered if he was about to run off. But a sort of resolve kept him planted, despite the uncertainty ruling Alfred's thoughts.
Looking around, Matthew scooped a few leaves, like they had during their carefree games just a few moments before, and placed the pile on Arthur's side, covering as much as he could, and threw his body weight against the leaves in an effort to add pressure.
"Grab some leaves!" he commanded in the best authoritative voice Matthew could muster. "We need to apply pressure to the wounds to stop the bleeding."
For a moment, Alfred was confused, looking from his brother to the leaves.
Matthew scrunched his face in his best imitation of a snarl. "NOW!"
At that, Alfred dropped all suspicion and piled more fallen leaves against Arthur's side, practically throwing himself over his brother as he tried to copy Matthew's lead.
"Okay… okay… okay…" Alfred whispered repeatedly as a sort of mantra, changeling all his attention to this one task in a useless effort to placate his desperation and shock for a few moments more.
It seemed to be working. The trickles of blood slowed noticably, and they replaced the used leaves with new ones as they reached their limit with absorbing the red liquid. But another feeling surged through Matthew. This wasn't enough. Stopping the blood was fine, but infection was imminent. They needed an anti-inflammatory to cover the wound with, and something to keep the poultice from falling off. Wait… what's an infection? Or an anti-inflammatory. And poultice? None of these words made sense. But he knew them to be true.
His gaze was distracted by a glint in the forest. It reminded him of the paws of light across the sewer floor; the pull was the same. It had saved them last time, maybe he should trust it again.
I need to follow.
Turning to his brother, Matthew got his attention.
"Alfred, I need to go."
"Huh?" he still couldn't put together proper sentences. His mind refused to work as all effort was put into simple minded mission to pile leaves and keep the sting of reality out. But Matthew saw all the questions in his eyes.
"I don't know exactly how, or why, but I know what to do. And it involves going deeper into the forest. But don't worry. I'll be back. I just need you to take over. You have to cover both piles."
Alfred looked so small and confused; more so than Matthew had ever seen him.
"I need you to do this Alfred. Arthur needs you too. You need to stop the blood. Now snap out of this funk and be that annoyingly optimistic go getter that we need you to be!"
A hardness covered his eyes, determination radiated through his being again. He nodded silently to Matthew, still not trusting his voice, and moved, stretching his body to cover both sides as he continued to focus on Arthur's wounds. Matthew stepped back and nodded in return before turning to dash deeper into the woods.
Vegetation passed in a blur, his violet eyes trained on the glint radiating straight ahead. Matthew panted heavily, working his paws to move faster in an effort to gain on his target. The star on the ground became brighter, and the dread and confusion that had flooded his young mind drained away, replaced with a silence of confident calm. He had faced worse before, he would be okay. Wait… Faced what before?
There was no time to question, as he came to a halt before a tree with severely gnarled roots and a trunk that twisted into the evening sky. At the tree's base, nestled between two thick segments, was a bushel of dark green plants; with long, thick stalks and flat leaves sprouting from the sides. For a moment, Matthew stood catching his breath as excitement welled up from his paws to the tips of his fur. A clump of mousetail! Perfect for closing wounds and keeping out infection, and just enough to cover the entirety of the long scratches imbedded into Arthur's side. The young tom bounced up to the plants and began rapidly biting them off at the stem, placing them in a pile on the ground next to him. He gathered as much as he could carry in his jaws before turning to race back to his brothers, following his own scent trail towards the clearing.
As the trees pulled back and he raced onto the open grass, Matthew floored it to his collapsed older brother. He saw Alfred standing close to Arthur's head, bent low over his face. The leaves used to cover the wound before were now discarded on the ground. Matthew feared for the worst and halted just beside Alfred, capturing his attention. The sprigs of mousetail fell silently in the dirt while Matthew panted and gasped heavily in an effort to retake his breath. He exchanged a glance with the fellow kit, and the message seemed to come through as Alfred spoke hurriedly to reassure Matthew.
"Oh, no, he's fine. I was just checking his breathing. The blood stopped while you were gone…"
He trailed off, voice still horse and quiet. Matthew wordlessly pushed him gently out of the way and lent an ear close to Arthur's muzzle. A low and even puff tickled his ear fur, and the cream tom sighed in relief. Lifting a pad to Arthur's forehead, he pressed it to the fur on his head. It was still warm, but Arthur appeared to be in much less pain than before. Still without speaking Matthew shifted to Arthur's side, taking the clump of mousetail with him. The blood had indeed stopped spilling from his flank, leaving only the still blaring red scratches behind that shifted as Arthur sighed in his sleep. Working quickly on instinct, Matthew snapped a couple of plants in his mouth, chewing rapidly in order to mush the mousetail into a sticky pulp.
"Uh… What are you doing?" Alfred questioned.
He received an answer when Matthew spit the pulp onto Arthur's side, green goo splattering onto his pelt and clinging to the open wounds.
"Ewww!" Alfred hissed, flinching away from the messy process.
His qualms went ignored as Matthew quickly slathered and spread the pulp across Arthur's body. He could feel the older tom wincing as the juice seeped into the scratches and set to work cleaning and ridding all nasty gunk from the area as Matthew knew it would. Once finished, Matthew stepped back carefully, tounge sweeping his lips in rebellion of the bitter taste left in his mouth. The mousetail pulp was beginning to dry, turning into a light green crust. As it hardened Arthur's body visibly relaxed letting out a deep sigh as all previous strain on his body dissipated.
The brothers let out a conjoined and uneasy breath, nearly collapsing due to exhaustion. Matthew set to licking all previous slime from his paws, making sure to get between the toes and spitting out green saliva on a regular basis. Alfred, still recovering from shock, just sat splayed on the ground. After a while of simple breathing, allowing actual rational thought to catch back up again, they noticed the clearing beginning to darken as the sun tucked itself behind the horizon for another night.
Matthew saw Alfred, staring with a lost and blank look. This had been hard on them both, but Alfred in particular as the tom had been unable to do anything to help other than watching Arthur bleed out. The two had never been without him, and he seemed as immovable and indomitable as the walls that had surrounded their den. But just as they had fallen, so too had Arthur nearly been taken by mortal forces. The last foundation of their world was lost, and the brothers found themselves facing the world for what it really was. A cold land of darkness and uncertainty, where no comfort was eternal. You had to fight to keep what you had, or you inevitably lost it. Not wanting to allow Alfred to dwell on such subconscious thoughts for too long, Matthew spoke up.
"It's getting dark." The meekness had returned to his voice, previous courage and certainty gone with the sun. "Let's settle down for some rest."
Alfred still looked unsure, casting glances from the darkness to Arthur's body.
"We can sleep next to him, curled up like we used to."
He seemed to find the idea appealing, and Matthew followed his brother to where the third of their trio lay recovering. Heaving what had to be the millionth sigh of the day, Matthew curled up by Arthur's stomach, between his front and hind paws. Instead of joining him, Alfred settled under the curve of his chin, head flopping down on his paws. After a few moments of silence, Alfred spoke for the first time since Matthew had returned.
"I wanna go home…"
Pressing his face deeper into his side, Matthew tried shut out all thought and vanquish the tears brought on by such a small and impactful statement.
I do, too…