Woah…Haha I still shudder when I read that last chapter. Icefang is pretty darn twisted ain't she? But luckily now I get to move away from the emotional stuff and into the action. Hope everyone still likes the story…I realize how messed up Icefang is and all, but she's still awesomeness. Thanks for the reviews btw, especially Pebbleclaw! :D It's one quarter moon later.
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Evening had descended on the forest. A warm, gentle breeze meandered through the trees, but it carried the taste of rain. Icefang was wandering again, but this time she had herself under control. Stonepelt was a few fox lengths away, hunting mice in the brambles. Her mind was clear, cold, calm. Her thoughts were carefully trained in only one direction – hunting. Maybe some occasional stray remarks on the weather or the silence of the forest. Nothing was out of place.
But Icefang's paws had a mind of their own, and despite her iron control over emotion, there was nothing she could do to change their direction.
She didn't really know why she was looking. It wasn't as if she really cared. Kittypets died all the time, she knew from experience. A friend of hers, Lily, had been attacked by a wild dog as a kit and despite everything her Twolegs had done the tiny she-cat had died. No one would ever know, and Icefang's connection to that world would be severed at last.
And yet, she didn't pause in her tracks. Not until she reached the edge of the forest and gazed out at the rotting wooden fence did her paws finally freeze against the dust.
Minutes passed, and gradually Icefang's heartbeat began to speed up. Nothing moved. There was no sound. Only the rustle and chirp of birds in the trees behind her. Finally, though some part of her resisted, Icefang trotted forward and leapt to the top of the fence, her heart in mouth. She hadn't wanted to…
A ginger and white shape flashed past the window of the Twoleg nest. Icefang caught a glimpse of a tail flicking into the shadows.
That was enough for her. A wave of relief swept through Icefang's pause as the dropped down from the fence. Her mother was alive. That was all she needed to know.
"Icefang?" came Stonepelt's mew. He padded out of the undergrowth, frowning. "What were you looking at?" he growled, his dark gaze flickering back to the Twoleg nest.
"I was looking for sparrows," Icefang lied smoothly, shrugging. "But they hatched long ago. Nothing left now but twigs and feathers."
Stonepelt glanced from her to the Twoleg fence once more, than blinked and nodded. "Too bad. I could do with some baby sparrow right now."
Icefang laughed loudly, covering up for the minute waver in her force. But as the two warriors made their way through the forest back to camp, Icefang's last vestiges of panic faded away. It was over now. She had made her decision and she was going to stick with it. Nothing tied her to her past now – she had severed those connections on the night of the Gathering. Of course, the pieces of her past that had followed her into her new life with ThunderClan still had to be eradicated. Her mission had barely started.
Back at the ThunderClan camp, cats were bustling to and fro, energized by the recent celebrations. Specklefoot's kits had been born the day after the Gathering, and the Clan was still uplifted by the promise of new life. Feeling refreshed and light on her paws, Icefang decided to go visit the queen and her newest litter. As far as Icefang knew, Specklefoot's mate, and Tansyleaf and Ashfoot's father, had been Browntalon an old warrior who had died during the terrible previous leafbare. These were his kits as well, and the birth had been emotional for Specklefoot without the presence of her mate. However all three kits were strong and healthy, and their naming ceremony had already been preformed.
"Look kits, it's Icefang!" came a gentle mew as Icefang poked her head into the den. The kits' eyes were still tightly closed, and Icefang doubted that they could hear their mother's words, but none-the-less Specklefoot cooed softly to them as Icefang approached.
"How are they doing?" asked the white she-cat quietly, bending down over the squirming pile of fur and claws. Specklefoot, a white she-cat with a few gray tabby patches, sighed and smiled.
"They're wonderful, of course. Shortwhisker says they're all healthy, although the speckled one is a runt. But he says it's not a problem." She gazed lovingly down at the three mewling kits.
"What are their names again?" asked Icefang politely, nosing the speckled she-cat. The kit squealed and batted at Icefang's nose.
"That's Poppykit," Specklefoot mewed, her tail flicking towards the energetic gray speckled kit. "This one is Dapplekit," she indicated a white she-cat with pale brown patches on her back and legs. "And this is Redkit." Her tail rested across the shoulders of a dark brown kit, whose pelt was streaked with dark ginger.
"What a beautiful coat," Icefang mewed, nudging Redkit. "All she-cats?" she questioned, looking up to meet Specklefoot's gaze.
"Yes. Browntalon would have loved to meet his daughters…" her voice trailed off into a quiet whimper.
Figuring the queen would rather be alone to grieve for her lost mate, Icefang retreated form the den and into the open air. She considered the kits one by one, her mind churning. Poppykit was too small, and from the way Specklefoot spoke her name she would probably be coddled all her life, being the runt. Dapplekit was a possibility, but her paws with wide, her fur long and her belly round – nod doubt she would never be a very successful warrior, staying in the nursery all her life. But Redkit…Icefang recalled her beautiful pelt and her long legs, already shaping up to be strong and swift. Redkit would be perfect.
"What are you concentrating on so hard?" came a sharp meow.
Icefang looked up. It was Robinpaw. She had a sour expression on her face, and the rancid scent of mousebile rose from her paws. Icefang wrinkled her nose.
"Where have you been?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at Robinpaw's disheveled appearance.
"Oh, don't give me that. I've been wrestling with Mossfur for the past moon and half, trying to get some StarClan-cursed ticks off his butt. Honestly, I don't know why the apprentices have to do everything around her," she snapped, pacing back and forth in front of Icefang's skeptical stare. "Where have you been?" Robinpaw retorted, pausing to look Icefang up and down. "What's got your mind in a fix?"
"I was visiting Specklefoot and her kits. There's a good chance I'll be mentoring one of them, and I was just…meeting them. You know. I thought maybe I'd request one when the time came." Icefang shrugged and looked over her shoulder as Shortwhisker slipped into the medicine den.
Robinpaw's expression grew even more resentful. "Hmph. I see. Well, I'll just continue on my way then. I've got to change Specklefoot's bedding now, so I suppose I'll just see you later then." With a contemptuous flick of her tail, the ginger tabby stalked past Icefang to the bramble tunnel and crawled away.
Icefang rolled her eyes. Robinpaw went through about ten different moods a day. This morning she and Icefang had shared a thrush and gone on patrol together, as close as sisters. This evening, they were bitter rivals. It was different practically every time they saw each other.
Tired from a long day of patrols, hunting and thought, Icefang made her way to the den. After about ten steps she felt a drop of water hit her ear. Growling, Icefang looked up to see what was dripping on her. A torrent of rain met her head on, suddenly pounding down form nowhere, followed by a bone-jarring clap of thunder. Yowling with surprise, Icefang pelted for the warriors' den, making it just in time before a gust of wind flung more rain across the clearing.
"Well that certainly came on suddenly," Stonepelt meowed. He was huddled in a corner of the den, dripping wet. Behind him, Brightpool was swiping at a rivulet of water trickling down her nose.
Icefang turned around and stared back out at the clearing, where rain was suddenly splashing to the dry ground in what seemed like a waterfall. She watched as a ginger tabby shape streaked into camp and sprinted into the apprentice's den, follow by Whitefoot and Yellowpaw. The black warrior darted into the den beside Icefang and gave her pelt a vigorous shake.
"Yellowpaw didn't know what hit her," Whitefoot joked, shivering as she padded to her nest. "One minute we were stalking a vole, the next we were running for our lives!"
Another earth-shaking thunderclap silenced the chuckles that had followed her words. A bright flash of lightning, casting weird shadows across the ground, momentarily illuminated the clearing.
"I just hope it clears up by morning," someone muttered as the warriors settled into the respective dens. Icefang buried her nose between her paws and fell asleep staring out at the rain that cascaded down from the sky.
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Icefang's eyes wavered. Her whiskers twitched. What was that smell? She could quite place it. A cough forced her awake, and only seconds later she realized that the wheezes were coming from her own throat. Annoyed, Icefang glanced down at her paws. It was…quiet. That's when she noticed that it was no longer raining.
And only one or two brain synapses later, Icefang placed the smell that had forced her awake.
"Fire!" she shrieked and leapt frantically to her paws. Her eyes, wide with terror, finally moved to the den entrance. A thick cloud of smoke clogged the mouth of the bramble den, and beyond it, a tower of brilliant orange fire licked the sky.
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