Okay, so, obviously this took a while, but I promised on my profile that I would update this story over the weekend, so I'm close enough. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and haven't forgotten what the story is about in the time since the last one. I certainly have. XD
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The hot breath of the dog was on her flanks, stinking of raw meat and blood. It clogged her senses, slowed her pace, and made her feet drag.
"No!" she yowled, horrified as she felt the pound of the giant creature's leaps as it closed in. Her heart was thundering, her muscles twitching as the tried to run faster, but her head was swimming, her eyelids drooping closed, and the dog was upon her, its teeth were against her fur, and blackness swallowed her…
Icefang erupted from the grass with a desperate gasp, her muscles taut with tension. The tall amber stalks around her fluttered as she twisted in the air and landed on her paws, crouching, ready to fight. It was the silence of the night sky that soon reminded her where she was.
"Just a dream," she admonished herself, taking a deep breath and straightening up. After her bone-chilling nightmare, the gentle sway of the heather stalks and their dry, leafy smell was comforting. Icefang opened her mouth and drew the scent across her tongue, savoring it. Then, with a sigh, she rocked back on her haunches and hung her head, blinking sleep out of her eyes.
It was sometime before moonhigh, and so far no one had come to give her a message. Icefang and three other warriors had been stationed in the heather near the WindClan border by Fourtrees, where the trail was meant to be laid for the dogs. All that afternoon and evening the combined forces from WindClan, RiverClan and ThunderClan (ShadowClan had yet to show its face) had hunted relentlessly, probably clearing the prey from half the territory in order to create a trail of fresh kill leading the dogs towards the gorge.
When she lifted her nose to the wind again Icefang could still detect the warm scent of the rabbit that Russetstripe had caught and placed near her hiding place. The plan was that the dogs, who would presumably arrive at the WindClan camp around moonhigh, would be attracted by the trail of prey leading down the hill towards Fourtrees and then veering left towards the river. If they strayed from the path laid out for them, the nearest warrior was meant to show his or herself and lure the dogs back to the trail. This was Icefang's job when the dogs reached her, which it seemed they hadn't yet.
The white she-cat yawned and flopped back down into the heather. She'd promised halfheartedly to stay alert, but as soon as the rest of the group had abandoned her here she'd rested her head in her paws and promptly fallen asleep. The frightening dream about the dogs had woken her up just in time – she didn't want to be caught unawares when moonhigh came around.
As she rested in the grass, Icefang's mind turned to more abstract thoughts. Eelshadow's behavior throughout the day had made her more uneasy then ever. He was sly, sharp, but somehow… unbalanced. Icefang twitched her whiskers and frowned. She knew, of course, that she herself was not like other warriors. Her ambitions and her skills made her better, as Eelshadow had said. But she had thought it wasn't obvious, that she fit in on the outside and kept her real self hidden from the others. Now she wasn't so sure. If Eelshadow's actions stood out so blatantly to her, could others see them? And therefore, was she just as transparent?
Frustrated, Icefang reached out a paw and unsheathed her claws, raking absentmindedly at the dry stalks of grass beneath her. She was lucky that the snows had melted quickly, and in the last few days much of the leftover mud had dried up. This entire operation might have been ruined by rain or snow.
Bored, Icefang rolled onto her back and tossed a scrap of grass into the air, batting it around like a kit with a ball of moss. The knowledge that she was alone in the night was liberating, and Icefang became absorbed in the game of keeping the grass bouncing in the air, buoyed by wind and flicks of her paws.
Suddenly, a blood-curdling howl startled her from her game. Icefang lanced into a sitting position, her entire pelt standing on end. Silence returned for a few seconds before being rent by a second howl, long and mournful, finished by a chorus of yelping barks. The dogs had discovered the trail. How long it would be until they reached her post Icefang could not guess – she didn't know WindClan territory well, and neither did she know how fast the dogs could run if they were pursuing the scent of prey. Frozen in her spot, the white she-cat forced herself to breath deeply before getting her paws underneath her and balancing on hr hind legs to get a view from above the heather.
There was no movement as far as she could see, whether from approaching cats or dogs; only the swaying expanse of heather and, in the distance, the bulky horizon of the forest. Shivering as a cold gust brushed past her, Icefang ducked back down into the grass and began to knead the earth with her claws. It wasn't the prospect of the chase that made her anxious, but the waiting.
Icefang began to pace, keeping her ears pricked for the slightest rustle and her muscles tensed to run. It was possible that the dogs would pass her hiding place without even noticing her presence, being so focused on the fresh kill. Unlikely, but possible. Whatever, happened, Icefang had to be ready to run – if the dogs passed her without danger it was her job to give a message to the next cat.
It was just about moonhigh when Icefang heard more howling, closer now, and began to feel the approach of the monstrous beasts. Every once in a while the earth beneath her paws would vibrate, and Icefang would crouch low to the ground, her teeth bared in a snarl, waiting for them to appear before she took off. Then it would fade, and she would wait for a moment before relaxing.
The fourth time this happened, the vibration was accompanied by a cacophony of barks, so close the sound made Icefang's ears ring. The dogs were almost on top of her. Icefang hesitated, than lifted her head to get a better look around, despite the risk of being caught off guard. As soon as her eyes crested the line of heather, she could make out a waving trail of grass, spiraling across the moor, where the dogs had passed. Not ten tail-lengths away she could see them, three brutish creatures with square heads and ugly, broad frames. They were tossing a tiny scrap of meat between them, and as soon as it was gone the biggest dog lifted it's bloodied snout and howled. The other three joined in, sending icy shivers down Icefang's spine.
After finishing their lament, the pack turned as one and made a beeline strait for Icefang's hiding place. Catching her breath, the white she-cat dropped back to the ground, steeling herself. Their pounding footsteps were discernible now, thudding into her bones. Their stench wound its way to her nose only moments before the sound of their heavy breathing. Icefang counted silently in her head, poised on the tips of her toes. Just one more second, one more second.
With a burst of snapping growls and snarls, the hideous trio tumbled into the tiny clearing that Icefang had been sheltering in. The white she-cat took one glance at the slavering mass and took a flying leap into the heather. Baying wildly, the dogs gave chase.
No thoughts passed through Icefang's mind as she ran, just like her dream, feeling them pounding after her, their breath rancid and hot, billowing behind her. Every time she slipped or stumbled, a jolt of adrenaline would give the extra bit of strength to surge away again, always keeping just a whisker's length ahead.
Swiftfoot was supposed to be waiting near the river, but as Icefang approached his hiding place, no black and white shape streaked out to relieve her, and the dogs were still following right on her heels. Icefang's muscles were beginning to stiffen and twitch, stretched to their limit as she dove like a mad hare through the grass. Where Swiftfoot was meant to be waiting, there was only a trampled patch of grass. For the first time, Icefang felt genuinely afraid. She wouldn't make it to the river – she didn't have enough energy left. And even if she did, how would she get the dogs to follow her off the cliff? She certainly wasn't going to sacrifice her own life.
A sharp yip that sounded right between her eyes gave Icefang another burst of speed, but as she sailed over a fallen log she realized that this was her last gasp. If she wasn't near the river yet, or if no cat was there to help her, she would be at the mercy of the dogs. Choking on this revelation, Icefang released a pent up yowl of anguish. This was no way for a cat die, especially her.
Just as Icefang was about to give up and plunge headfirst into the dirt, she tasted a new scent on the air, one that filled her with hope. She risked a sideways glance, and to her delight found Cinderstar running beside her, his eyes narrowed against the wind.
"Keep running, Icefang, you're almost to the river!" he gasped, his belly low to the ground as he darted alongside his deputy.
"I can't," she whimpered, feeling her paw catch on a pebble. She stumbled, but caught herself before she fell and continued to run, only gut-wrenching fear of the pursuing dogs keeping her dead limbs in motion.
"I have faith in you," Cinderstar wheezed.
As he had promised, the river came into view after only a few pawsteps more. Feeling as though her heart might give out before she reached it, Icefang made a last feeble attempt at speed and crashed towards the river's edge, the sound of the waterfall filling her ears and drowning her sense. Only Cinderstar's presence at her side kept her aware of her surroundings.
As they neared the steep drop-off, Icefang managed to regain some semblance of control, and her mind kicked into overdrive as she realized that if she didn't stop soon, she would topple right off the edge and drown along with the dogs. Casting a terrified glance at Cinderstar, Icefang shouted, "We'll all die!"
The gray tom gazed at her, his eyes blank. He looked back over his shoulder, to where the three dogs were emerging from the grass, the light of bloodlust in their dark eyes. Then he turned back to her, blinked, and disappeared. Icefang froze, startled, but it was too late. The earth underneath her was suddenly gone, and with a hiss of unsuppressed despair, Icefang realized that the soft mud at the edge of the gorge, softened by the melted snow, had eroded beneath their weight. Shrieking, the she-cat tried to grasp the rapidly fading solid edge, her paws flailing, but to no avail. Icefang plummeted head over heels into the swollen, raging river below.