Chapter 2:
With Teeth
The full moon was bright in the sky, its milky coloring engulfing any stars brazen enough to stray too close. Nothing could drown the moon's light, the trees were red and gold and balding, the barren branches doing little to filter the full moon. The thickets seemed to glow, somewhat eerily, casting odd shadows across ThunderClan's territory.
Quailstar's ban on going out at night, though at first strictly enforced, had been relaxed to the point where Nightpaw and Hazelpaw had been able to sneak out of camp without issue. Neither had been invited to the gathering that night. Hazelpaw liked going to the gatherings and sulked a little about it, but Nightpaw hated going to the gathering.
He was probably the only apprentice who dreaded them and he didn't even have a valid reason for loathing them. Nightpaw was simply self-centered, he hardly cared about the inner politics of even his own clan, so it was nearly impossible to get Nightpaw interested in the happenings of the other three. He supposed it was a little fun to talk to other cats from other clans, but even that failed to make a gathering worth his while. Hazelpaw, though, most of the time she didn't seem care about what was happening in the other clans either, but she did genuinely seem to like meeting other cats. However, there were times where Nightpaw had to wonder if Hazelpaw really was interested in the politics of clan meetings and was pretending not to because he himself had no interest in them. He pretended to like things for Hazelpaw on certain occasions, so it wouldn't surprise him if Hazelpaw did the same for him.
Nightpaw didn't want to think about if Hazelpaw would rather be at the gathering, staring wide-eyed in awe at the cats in the towering oak, inadvertently talking smack about each other. The thought lingered in the back of his mind, but he ignored it like he'd ignored Duskpaw's warning him not to sneak out before he'd left for the gathering.
He refused to stay inside the camp like some prisoner just because Meadowpaw wasn't smart enough to scent the air while she was outside. His sister's friend had always irritated him a little with how flighty and oblivious her personality was. Honestly, Nightpaw hadn't any clue how Moonpaw could stand being around a cat like Meadowpaw. Sure, she was sweet, but it was near-impossible to hold a conversation with the cream-colored apprentice.
But Hazelpaw, she was perfect. She was pretty, a simple pretty, with a smooth, plain gray coat and light green eyes that didn't attract too much attention. She wasn't afraid to break rules, she was quiet around others but loud around him and her other friends, and she was always willing to compromise. She didn't seem to like Meadowpaw very much either, but Nightpaw again couldn't tell if it was because he didn't like her or if it was because she herself didn't like flighty Meadowpaw. He would never ask, though.
Nightpaw kept one eye on Hazelpaw's graceful movements beside his own and the other focused on the path before him. He scented the air from time to time and he noticed that Hazelpaw did as well; nothing would be more humiliating than having the thing that bit Meadowpaw managing to sneak up on the both of them.
He wondered if Hazelpaw had an eye on him as well, but wasn't about to look for the subtle signs that she was because he didn't know how he'd feel if he knew. Whether she was or not in fact watching him, too, a pang of something negative (disappointment, anger?). He knew the rumors; one does not have a close friend of the opposite gender and not have other cats wonder if they were together or wanted to be, especially not at their age. Nightpaw just didn't know what Hazelpaw was to him. Sometimes he wondered if she was really his friend, seeing that she bent over backwards to gain his approval, or if he was really her friend seeing the way he dismissed her so easily. Perhaps he'd have a better idea of what she was if he knew what he was to Hazelpaw. But that wasn't something he wanted to figure out that particular night, so he kept pace and kept that eye on the gray she-cat.
Nightpaw wanted to say something to Hazelpaw, but doing so would mean his pace would probably have to slow and he didn't want that. Besides, Hazelpaw seemed content enough with the brisk silence between them.
Whatever he liked, she liked.
The two continued in silence, Hazelpaw blindly following Nightpaw as he wandered, trying to decide on a place to go. Nightpaw didn't stop for a while longer, waiting until the ramble of the river and the scent of reeds and water saturated his senses and the ground under-paw became soft and moldable. Hazelpaw didn't hesitate to stop the moment Nightpaw even started to slow down; Nightpaw tensed, she had, in a way, answered his earlier question.
Hazelpaw looked towards the scruffy dark tom expectantly. She sounded a little out of breath, "So, what now?"
Nightpaw shrugged, still somewhat unsettled by the realization that Hazelpaw had fine-tuned her pace to match his own perfectly. He scented the air once more, but smelled nothing more than the rushing river nearby. Beneath his flat, thin coat, his skin rippled at the temperature. It was an unusually warm night for late leaf-fall, but the water, mud, and thinning foliage seemed to make things colder.
Casually, Nightpaw sat down and began to clean his front paws, which were smattered with decaying leaves, while he thought of what to do next. Hazelpaw immediately looked down at her own paws, which were also covered in the fruits of leaf-fall, and began picking the slimy, broken leaves off as efficiently as she could. She seemed to glance at him every so often as she worked on her paws, as though wanting to be finished whenever he was.
Nightpaw didn't bother cleaning his back paws, preferring to clean those only in the security and privacy of his den. Even when his fronts were clear of any leaves, he continued to clean and scrape under his claws unnecessarily, just to observe his friend. Though he didn't want to know how she felt about him, who he was to her, Nightpaw couldn't help but want to test the waters of what she was willing to do to impress him.
He kept his expression nonchalant and confident, calm. "Do you think we'll still do this? You know, when we're warriors."
Hazelpaw's light eyes widened a bit, surprised but not perturbed by the sudden question. "What? Of course! Only difference will be that we won't have to sneak out." She told him, the paw she was working on still suspended in the air by her muzzle. "Why do you ask?"
Nightpaw didn't respond to her question verbally, instead flicking his tail to quiet her. "You think we'll ever be warriors?"
Hazelpaw seemed puzzled by his line of questioning, but didn't ask why he was doing this again. "Why wouldn't we?"
The dark-colored tom's ear twitched, "I'm not good at a lot, Hazelpaw."
Hazelpaw's eyes widened further, panic rising within her for reasons Nightpaw couldn't figure out. "W-what? No, no, no, Nightpaw, you're great at lots of things!"
Nightpaw ignored her frantic reassurances. Honestly, nothing she said really meant anything to him because he never knew the motive behind her words. "I might leave, Hazelpaw."
"Leave? What are you talking about?" Hazelpaw said, finally letting her paw rest on the ground.
"I don't think I want to be here anymore. I'm not sure where I'll go, but I think I'm going to leave."
"But why?" Hazelpaw all but wailed, looking more and more distraught as Nightpaw went on.
"I don't have a chance at being something here, Hazelpaw, that's why. And, clan life is just boring. It's the same thing every day. Don't you get sick of it?" Nightpaw asked.
Without question, Hazelpaw readily nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with his opinion. "But-"
Nightpaw interrupted her. "Will you go with me? If I leave, will you go with me and leave ThunderClan?"
"O-of course, Nightpaw, is that even a question? You're my best friend, I'd do anything for you." Hazelpaw told him, her fur fluffed up and her eyes still wide as the moon that hung prominently in the black sky.
Nightpaw gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. "If I leave, will you follow me wherever I go?"
"Yes."
"Even if it means never seeing your family and friends ever again?"
"Yes."
"Even if it's to certain death?"
"Yes."
"Even if it leads to a long, long, drawn out life you will constantly want to escape from?"
"As long as it's with you, yes."
Nightpaw didn't know what to feel with this leverage, this powerful advantage he had Hazelpaw at. Part of him felt proud, smug, confident. Then there was the other part of him, it was quieter, but still there, the part that felt disgust towards the both of them. Disgust that he could say all that to her, test her like that, and disgust that Hazelpaw agreed to everything without question, without any thought whatsoever.
He remained quiet, feeling Hazelpaw's intensely, unreasonably loyal gaze burning his coat. Hazelpaw seemed to expect more questions, more planning on when they were to leave, but Nightpaw didn't say anything more on the matter.
"Do you think that the dog-beast that bit Meadowpaw is still around?" Nightpaw asked.
The gray apprentice hesitated before responding. "Do you?"
Nightpaw's ear twitched again, "No. I think it was just a regular old dog that got away from its twoleg and Meadowpaw was just too dumb to know it."
"Yeah, definitely." Hazelpaw responded, watching him intently.
And idea sprung into his thoughts, "So you think if we split up, run around the territory separately and meet up when the gathering ends that nothing will happen to either of us?" Nightpaw asked, daringly.
Hazelpaw looked a little nervous, but she didn't hesitate to agree with him. "Of course not, we'd be fine!" She said quickly, her voice shrill.
"I think we should try it, then we can boast to the whole clan how we went out all by ourselves and came back without a scratch. Maybe then stupid Quailstar will let us actually do things again."
"Yeah, you're right!" Hazelpaw exclaimed.
"So, where do you want to meet, then? After we finish roaming?" Nightpaw asked, his voice smooth and without any tangible sign of nerve or hesitation.
"Wherever you'd like." Hazelpaw said.
"The edge of camp, it'll be easier to sneak back in before everyone comes back." Nightpaw answered, already envisioning their secret, precarious path that led back behind the apprentices' den.
Hazelpaw nodded, she looked nervous, but Nightpaw ignored it. If wandering the territory at night alone really bothered her, she'd speak up.
"You can stay by the water, I'll go back to the forest." Nightpaw declared, pleased but not surprised when Hazelpaw didn't protest.
"Alright, but when the gathering ends, we'll go back to camp, right?" Hazelpaw verified, licking her muzzle nervously, her tail fidgeting.
"Yeah, what, are you afraid or something, Hazelpaw? The dog-beast isn't real, remember? Hardly anything else to be afraid of in ThunderClan territory." Nightpaw said, his tone almost mocking as he watched Hazelpaw's discomfort grow.
"R-right, yeah I'm not scared. There's nothing out there, I know. I'm ready whenever you are, Nightpaw." Hazelpaw managed, forcing herself to sit a little straighter and to lie her fur flat again.
Nightpaw got to his paws and faced the bare thicket of trees and brambles. He looked over his shoulder where Hazelpaw had also gotten up, watching his movements with great interest, her fear momentarily forgotten. It was revived the moment Nightpaw said, "Well, see you at camp, Hazelpaw."
The image of her wide, panic-stricken stare was burned into his memory and it was hard for Nightpaw to concentrate when he started his agile sprint through the forest. Nightpaw may have imagined it, but he could've sworn he heard Hazelpaw call after him, perhaps to come back? He didn't know and he didn't stop or turn around either. They ran around the territory at night all the time, normally together, he'd admit, but she surely couldn't be that scared on her own. It was the same as always, Nightpaw just wasn't at her side this time and there was an absurd rumor of some dog-beast prowling the forest.
Hazelpaw would be fine.
Nightpaw would be fine.
With that in mind, Nightpaw propelled himself past the skeletal trees and through the burr-ridden thickets, still being mindful to scent the air every so often.
He ran until he was winded, his breath coming out in ragged, uneven pants as his paws slowly halted. Nightpaw could see the lake in the distance through the tree branches, some pride swelling in his chest for how fast he was able to get from the river to the lake without stopping. Vaguely, he wondered how far Hazelpaw got, but it was a fleeting thought.
Parched, Nightpaw moved through that final stretch of forest separating him from the edge of the lake. He settled on the shore, paws just barely out of the lazy tide's reach, and dipped his muzzle into the water. The cool liquid soothed the dry ache in his throat and the satisfying burn in his chest.
When Nightpaw's face rose from the lake, he paused, a shiver rippling through his skin. He looked up and there, at his right, sitting where the rock-infused sand mixed evenly with the dirt of the forest, was a brown tabby he'd never seen before.
It was a she-cat with eyes that nearly looked red, but were really just amber, and a scraggly, coarse, unkempt-looking coat. One of her ears had a rip in it and her whiskers were the shortest he'd ever seen, not to mention one of her teeth poked out from under her lip. Her scent was odd and disgusted Nightpaw somewhat, but her other physical traits seemed to take away from its impact.
But she still had some aspects of youth: the somewhat amused glint in her nearly-red eyes, the hesitant sheen to her disheveled fur, and the single exposed fang was still a perfect white.
Nightpaw decided, based lightly on subtle details in her appearance and more heavily on scent, that the brown tabby was young despite her haggard looks.
"Took you long enough to look at me, clan-cat."
Nightpaw, eyes wide and body stiff, tired to quickly think of a way to keep some of his dignity intact. The second he stopped scrutinizing his surrounds, this random, ragged-looking cat who didn't have the scent of any of the four clans, had managed to sneak up on him.
"I knew you were there." He bluffed, barely managing to keep his voice steady.
The ragged cat looked him over skeptically. "Somehow," she said smoothly, moving towards him a few short paces, "I doubt that, clan-cat."
Nightpaw glared at her, "This is ThunderClan territory. You need to leave."
"Says who? Clan-cat, I'd bet that I could do whatever I wanted and you wouldn't even notice. I don't think I need to leave. Actually," the ragged cat told him, "You can't afford to make me leave even if you could."
"Why?" Nightpaw asked, a snarl giving his tone an edge.
The ragged cat didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't care. "I'm looking for someone."
"And that concerns me, why?" Nightpaw suddenly wished Hazelpaw was there with him.
She snapped at him, her one stray tooth nearly catching on her lip, "It concerns you because she could kill you all! Tell me, have you seen Lyssa?"
"Lyssa? What in StarClan's name is that name? What, are you some ugly kittypet looking for your kittypet friend?" Nightpaw sneered, subconsciously moving closer to the stranger.
The ragged cat was spitting mad at his comment, "I don't know what that means, but Lyssa is no cat! Lyssa is my pack-mate! She's sick and we've driven her off, but we can't let her get comfortable anywhere! We need to keep going after her, running her until she's dead or there's no telling what she's going to do, alright? That's who Lyssa is, she's someone who's lost and needs to be found before she kills someone!"
Nightpaw's mind was reeling, this was getting weirder each breath he took. "Pack-mate?"
"Is that all you've gotten out of this?" The ragged cat asked, her hackles up and her teeth bared. "Have you seen the wolf, that's all I'm asking!"
"What are you talking about?" Nightpaw asked, growing irritated. The gathering would be over soon and he wanted to get back to camp before everyone, including frightful Hazelpaw, got back. The conversation with the ugly she-cat was growing confusing and tedious.
"A wolf! Like a big dog! She's gray all over, much larger than both of us, spit hanging out of her mouth all the time? Probably smells gross to you, do you have any idea of what I'm talking about?" The ragged cat bit out, her voice becoming strained and stressed as she progressed.
Meadowpaw briefly crossed Nightpaw's mind, but he didn't let the recognition transfer to his features. "Yeah, sure, say I do. What's wrong with the… wolf?"
The ragged cat, though still frustrated, seemed to calm down a little, drawing in a breath before continuing. "She's sick. Lyssa's sick and we've got to find her, alright? Trust me, you don't want what she's got anywhere near you."
"It's like a dog, why do you care if it's sick?" Nightpaw asked, his eyes narrowing on the scraggly she-cat. "You're a cat, nothing to worry about."
The ragged cat glared harshly at him, her frustration returning. "Evil doesn't belong to a single animal, clan-cat. Evil spreads."
Nightpaw had to stop himself from purring in amusement. What was this? Elder story time? He humored her the best he could. "Alright, how does evil spread then?"
"With teeth."
"What's that supposed to mean? Who even are you? Look, I don't know where your dog friend is, kittypet, but you need to get off my territory." Nightpaw growled, growing impatient with the trespasser.
She stared at Nightpaw in a way that unnerved him before saying, "Look, I'm being as nice as possible. When my pack-mates come through here though, they aren't going to be nice, they might even kill you. When they come through and when they give you trouble, tell them you know Jag and they won't do much to you." The ragged cat, presumably Jag, told him.
Nightpaw's tail twitched in irritation. "Oh yeah? Well when you find my clanmates you can tell them you know Nightpaw and maybe they'll give you time to explain before you're torn to pieces." He growled, his ears flat and his lips threatening to pull back at the threat hidden in Jag's message.
Jag's torn ear flickered in acknowledgement, "Some way of introducing yourself there, Nightpaw. But trust me, I've seen a wolf fight a cat on many occasions. The cat never wins, so I'm not too worried."
The dark-pelted tom didn't respond verbally, giving her a hateful glare rather than waste another breath on a retort. Jag watched him for a moment more, but looked pained to do it, her paws itching to get on the move again. She didn't say anything to him either. Nightpaw watched Jag turn away from him and bound out of sight into the forest.
He contemplated chasing after her, but didn't feel like dealing with that again. Nightpaw hoped no one would be able to scent her on him. Though he hadn't had any physical interaction with Jag, she had a foul stench to her that seemed to saturate anything around it. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he recalled how it rolled off into the air and wondered if it was her actual scent or just her breath. Either way, Nightpaw just hoped no one would be able to tell he had any contact with the stranger. Nightpaw knew Hollowflight would be livid if he ever found out about his apprentice letting a trespasser go that easily.
He scowled at the thought of his mentor. The two hardly got along, his patience all worn away after the scam he pulled with Hazelpaw. Nightpaw now dreaded going to training, not only because he was terrible at everything, but because Hollowflight was so short-tempered. The phantom-like tom used to be so proud when he thought Nightpaw was bringing in all that prey on his own, boasting about him all the time, but when he found out about Hazelpaw's involvement, everything changed. He seemed to have Nightpaw as much, if not more, than Nightpaw hated him.
Nightpaw thought back to his scam with some form of pride, however empty it was. While it irrevocably damaged his relationship with his mentor, it gained him the respect of most of the other apprentices and she-cat who was still willing to do anything he wanted. He was seen by the young of the clan as a smooth-talking hero and by the old as an arrogant kit. Nightpaw didn't care about what the old thought, so long as he had his reputation with the young, it didn't matter.
Nightpaw smirked to himself when he thought about the tale he'd tell to his friends once he got back. Whenever he snuck out of camp, Nightpaw always came back with a fascinating, fabricated story that turned heads. That particular night, he decided he'd say that some tiny, yappy twoleg-place dog tried to come after him by the lake, but he beat it back towards RiverClan territory with ease.
There would be no mention of Jag and her so called wolves.
Hi guys! Another chapter done and another couple character introductions are done! What did you think of Jag? Was she a mistake to put into the story? Can't tell yet myself. (At least now we have confirmation what the animal that bit Meadowpaw was though!) I have to say, I like Nightpaw a lot. He's kind of mean to Hazelpaw, but I still like his character, it's easy to write in his POV. I've written other fanfics with warriors before and he's the first character I've made that doesn't have any real pride in his clan quite like Nightpaw does.
Originally, I wasn't planning on making Nightpaw's and Hazelpaw's relationship the way it was (with Hazelpaw doing whatever Nightpaw says without a second thought) but I'm happy with how it turned out. I'm excited about the next chapter, it's going be called "Head Shake" and will be following Moonpaw. I've (loosely) planned what I want to happen in both Moonpaw's chapter and Duskpaw's chapter, (which will be called "Company") but things could change.
Anyway, thanks for reading the chapter and giving this whole idea the time of day!
Jay
I-really-hope-not: The chapter probably answered your guess, but I'll still tell you that you are correct! Thanks for reviewing, it really means a lot to me!
Death by Essay: Yes! I was so worried that my summary was going to suck! Thanks for giving me a chance and reviewing! And the chapter probably answered your question about the coyote/wolf thing, but it is a wolf :)