CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Xe didn't want to tell. Last time xe had reported a sighting, xe had been admonished for being a medicine cat and not a warrior. It was true that despite xir limited training, xe could have been brave and attacked the rogue anyway, refusing to let up until xe had run the brute off their territory for good... but he was so big and so strong and she would have never stood a chance. Doveheart knew it would have done no good, and xe couldn't find the will within xem to do it. There was no point in attacking, and there was no point in telling. Xe'd been punished last time. In fact, this was the very reason xe wasn't supposed to have gone out on xir own. Xe would look stupid if xe told Yellowstar that xe'd broken the limits of the ban, gone out into the forest, and lo and behold, encountered the rogue again. It would begin to make it look like her fault.

So Doveheart had resolved not to tell. No one would know. That didn't worry xem. What worried xem was the fact that xe would now be keeping a secret from xir Clanmates, a choice that felt inherently wrong, and which was a product of motives that aligned all too well with what Rusty had been insinuating all this time: that the Clan didn't value her enough, and that she didn't need to be bound by them. He was right, in a way. A medicine cat knew no borders. Yellowstar was already aware of the rogue's presence on their territory, and so Doveheart was not committing any egregious breach of trust by withholding information that was of no strategic use. It was, simply put, none of anyone's business.

It made xem ache to think so, as Doveheart would have rather be able to tell Leechwhisker, to revel in xir friendly affirmations and indignant condemnation of Rusty's audacity and arrogance. To keep it secret from xir Clan was to keep it secret from xir friends. This couldn't go on like this, a rogue on their land, stealing their prey, always coming to see xem—and only xem, it seemed. Xe hadn't heard anything about the rogue getting caught or deliberately showing itself to anyone else. It had singled xem out. Perhaps because it perceived her as the most harmless. She wasn't even a dangerous enough Clan cat to be worth evading. It seemed like, these days, the rogue was the only cat who really sought out her company.

The thought made her heart squeeze like an adder's throat over the shell of an egg. Things shouldn't have to be this way. It was too much. After all her loneliness... All the emotional distance from her Clanmates and her fellow medicine cats... Even though she was almost back to camp, frantic strides leading the tabby through thinning trees, the thought of his face, his fur, his eyes, even his smell seemed to conjure themselves before her, and her blood pulsed like the leaps of a hare as she decided. He was right: she would see him again.

As soon as xe skidded into the clearing, Doveheart dropped the honey leaf at the stump with a few mumbled instructions, xir voice shaking, and then hurried off to xir own den. Xe probably looked like xe had lost xir whiskers to the cats in camp. Ravenfur made some snide remark about being afraid of the trees in the forest, but Doveheart paid no attention. Xe was forming a plan. Rusty always seemed to find her somehow... It was just a matter of wandering the territory long enough. Here in camp, it would be too dangerous for the rogue to show his face, but anywhere else... where they would be alone... Xir heart jumped again at the thought, and xe tried to calm xemself. Not again today, no. At least a day should pass, lest Yellowstar notice that xe had gone. Xe needed time to think about this, time to muster xir gumption, time to prepare. This wasn't anything to rush into headlong with reckless abandon, after all. She had to be careful. She had to be ready.

The medicine cat decided to give it two days. More than anything, xe did not want to get caught on xir way out. Xe had an opportunity on the third day, but xe didn't take it. Xe was beginning to lose xir nerve. Then, after considering and contemplating it over and over, persuading xemself of xir certainty, xe saw another chance. It was now or never. After four days of biding xir time, the gray tabby swallowed some chamomile to keep calm and snuck out of camp at moonhigh.

The forest was easy to navigate by the cool pale light, and the familiar sounds of the night accompanied xir path. Xir paws were prickling with burning anticipation. Yet no one appeared. The clear air, cool and dark, stifled some of the smells that it shared during the day, but earlier a bit of rain had passed through and the aftereffects of the wet disruption were lingering still. The scents of mineral acidity and arboreal oils, earthy and damp with an ozonic chill, pervaded throughout woods, mixing with the musky smell of overturned soil and aromatic spores. As xe padded through the underbrush, xir ears caught the susurrus of a breeze passing through the leaves. In the distance xe heard an owl, calling out with the solemness of grief, but when the great bird fell silent, the level of quiet xe encountered was such that it made xem aware of the friction of xir own breathing. Overhead, the moon was as white and still as a spot of frost on the sky.

Undaunted by the passage of time, Doveheart traveled further away from camp and into the thickets of KnollClan hunting grounds, persisting at a decisive pace as though xe were leaving with no intent to return. There was no turning back now. Xir paw pads were already sweating, xir ears vigilant, xir tail tip curled over with uncertainty. Xe would walk the whole territory if xe had to. Xir nose strained for the smell of fur and her gaze scoured the forest the sight of those eyes reflecting the glow of the moon, xir heart conflicted over what xe was doing even still. Xe tried to prepare xemself for what could happen should the rogue be found. As xir flimsy reasoning kept playing itself over in xir head, the scent of a mouse met xir nose on the wind. Xe couldn't have caught it if xe'd tried. Xe had some basic skills, but xe was in no state of mind to hunt.

She expected him to get the drop on her, as he always did, appearing by surprise, but this time, with all her senses alert, and with a sudden shift in the wind, he was the first one to be detected: just a few tail-lengths away; she saw him first, a shadowy silhouette among the brambles, and their eyes met. His pair of green eyes looked into hers, and her fears burst within her chest. She turned and ran.

The rogue gave chase as expected. She could hear his quickening strides crunching leaves and pounding the earth as she ran, and he was beginning to gain on her. Her only thought was to get back to camp. Just get back to camp. She was running as fast as she could, and it wasn't fast enough. Her legs were short and her nerves were shot to reprobation; she tripped over a root and slid on some leaves and scrambled to get her balance, still running; she could hear the rogue blazing up behind her. All her fur stood on end as she raced through the trees and her heart constricted and let loose like the thunder of a storm. She was almost there. KnollClan camp was just up this hill, just a ways more, and she would be safe. It wasn't near enough that anyone could hear her, but if she could just stay ahead of the rogue long enough—

She felt claws on her back and the next thing she knew he had tackled her, bringing her down to the ground off her paws. The gray tabby flipped over as he gripped her with his paws around her body, and she began kicking at him with her back legs, claws out, flailing and fighting to get away or tear him up in the process. For a few terrifying seconds, as they fought in a struggling tangle of legs and claws, she thought for sure that he would kill her. Instead he let go and released her, stepping back, yet hovering over her, breaking up the fight but keeping her virtually pinned beneath him, with her crouched down in the soil, her head pushed back and her ears flattened as her pelt bristled like a pinecone. She knew if she got up or tried to run, it would happen again.

"Feisty one, aren't you?" He looked pleased. His voice was smoky and self-assured, as always, with an air of warm flippancy that took pleasure in her resistance. When she didn't answer, only glaring up at him, he went on, in a more gentle tone, "I didn't mean to frighten you, Doveheart." His eyebrows raised, and he looked more somber as he explained. "When you ran, I had to stop you from getting away. There are cats up that hill who are too narrow-minded to understand us. You don't have to be afraid. I would never hurt you."

Her heart still hadn't stopped its vicious pounding.

"Listen to me, gorgeous. Don't you know how special you are? I've traveled far and wide, and I've seen a lot of things, much more than any cat who lets themselves be constrained by borders would see, and by far, you are the most beautiful creature in the forest. That's what keeps me here. I can't keep my mind off you."

She said nothing, still stiff as wood.

He twitched his whiskers. "Come on, lighten up! Why don't you smile?" he encouraged with a laugh. Bending down his head for a moment, he gave her a tender lick on the head, prompting the timid medicine cat to further flatten her ears. "You're so serious. It's alright, I promise. You're safe with me. Why would I do any harm to the pretty molly who healed my wounds?"

Silence.

"Most cats would have walked away, but you didn't. There's a special kindness in you, Doveheart. Something rare. A pureness of the soul that others overlook. But I see it. And it cannot be ignored. Not only are you caring and compassionate, but you're a stunning sight as well, with the most elegant face and the prettiest eyes. You're enchanting."

She knew, then, what he wanted of her. It was all too clear. His desires were etched in his gaze, and she knew what he was going to say before he said it.

He brought his rugged face closer to hers. "I'm in love with you."

In the quietness that followed, she thought she saw him move, starting to lift a paw or shift a leg to place his body over hers, and she blurted, "I'm not ready."

His answer was immediate and certain: "You will be."

The little gray tabby underneath him felt very, very small. She was trembling, her heart skipping a beat at his words. He stretched his neck out toward her, though she pulled her head away, and, without giving her an opportunity to get up, he pressed his nose against hers as she closed her eyes. She could feel the textured surface of his damp skin against the soft, sensitive flesh of her nose, his breaths mingling with hers.

"If you can keep a secret," he whispered, pulling back by a mouse-tail, "meet me at the fallen log at sunrise."

She nodded.

Then he stepped away and disappeared into the night, leaving her on her own to get up and return to camp.