Sorry for the wait. I'm going to try posting on a weekly schedule. Twice a week if I can get another chapter wrote this weekend. I was thinking Saturdays and Wednesdays.

It only got worse after that. Everything only got worse. If there was little prey before then there was certainly no prey now. It didn't matter how hard they searched, how hard they looked, how hard they wished for it. It never came. Days would drag on without any sight of it and a dreadful toll was being taken on the group. They were all considerably weaker, where strong muscle used to lay was now replaced by a thinness of skin and the sharp edge of a bone. Every rib was seen on every cat as the cage shoved itself against their insides. Some cats seemed to have very little strength for anything as they walked, hobbling faintly over the clearing. Vole seemed to be the most prevalent example of this. The cat didn't hunt, making his muscle strength low to begin with but now that he didn't eat...well it was as if he was just going to fade away. Flower bustled over him all day, trying to bring him different herbs but even they had started to shrivel up and die too.

The tension had soared but the outbursts of anger had dwindled, everyone was too tired,far too tired. Such arguments never accomplished anything anyways as everyone was too loyal to their leader, a leader who'd chosen to stay firmly in his place no matter what was threw at him. As time went on Butterfly felt her respect for him begin to fall, what are we still doing here? Was it for nothing more then pure stubbornness? She couldn't say she knew, only that she wanted to go and apparently she wasn't the only one for there was the thundering of paws as Yarrow stormed on through camp and straight up to the leader.

Butterfly gulped. Yes, most cats had chosen to just let that tension boil rather then unleash their rage. Yarrow wasn't one of those cats. If she had a problem then you'd hear about it and if she disagreed with you you'd most certainly hear about it. Opinions were never kept to one's self with that cat and from the looks of it Sunrise was about to receive a full earful of it.

"We need to leave," she growled, her paw stamping on the ground so hard that even Butterfly could feel the vibrations from where she sat. The cream she-cat had rather fell apart in the last moon, just like the rest of the group. Her once long, flowing, shining fur had became ragged and dull. It hardly even covered her ribs as she glared up at Sunrise. It was hard to imagine what she even used to look like, she'd changed that much. For a terrible moment Butterfly wondered if she too looked the same but was snapped out of it as she heard the sound of Sunrise's voice.

"No, we don't," the leader replied. His looks too had fell but not nearly as much as his sister's. His eyes still glowed that brilliant green and his fur still remained vibrant and smooth. She couldn't help but wonder how he managed to find so much time to clean himself through all of the chaos.

For a moment Yarrow seemed to stand in awe at the blunt refusal, the fact that he hadn't even bothered to give a reason was enough to even amaze Butterfly. Does he not see the divide this argument is causing or just how important it is? However that opinion never needed to be voiced as Yarrow was already doing that for her. "Yes we do and everyone can see it but you," she hissed, falling back into that fiery state. "We've got no prey, no food, the plants are all dying. We're starving just look around you! How could we possibly survive here?"

All the cats were watching now. Every single cat in the clearing had there conversation and task brought to a pause as they stared. Butterfly could even spy her mother, sitting up and attentive as she watched,her eyes fixed intently on Sunrise.

A silence seemed to stretch as everyone waited in anticipation for Sunrise's response. Has she finally convinced him? The question lay on the edge on her mind and with every passing moment she grew more eager for an answer. An answer that soon came...

"We can't leave," he finally answered, a somber note to his voice. There was another pause, this time brief as the only sound to be heard was Yarrow's light scoff. "How would we all manage to travel? There's too many of us, we wouldn't be able to make it through the two-leg place."

"We could go round," she argued back.

"No, we couldn't," Sunrise replied, keeping his calm despite all of the fury. It was like watching a battle between ice and fire. "It's too far of a walk for-"

"It's not too far of a walk!" Yarrow cut him off, her frustration extraordinarily clear. Butterfly felt herself jump at the yell.

"It is for cats such as Leap, he's far to old and feeble to ever make such a journey." All eyes turned towards the older tom, expecting him to protest but while his face made a begrudged expression his mouth stayed firmly shut. He's too tired to even argue. Deep down he knows he's right. "That's not to mention the rest of the group. We're all far to feeble to make such a journey,we simply don't have the strength."

She's considering it, Butterfly thought as she watched the cat. Who wouldn't? It was a perfectly good point, yet something told her that this argument wasn't over just yet. "Then what are we meant to do?" Yarrow asked, the fire dying from her voice and resorting to a crestfallen, hopeless state. "Just wait around to die?"

"No," Sunrise spoke again this time leaving little pause. "We'll just have to hunt more."

"But everyone is already hunting!" Yarrow went on a desperate strain to her voice.

"Not everyone," and as soon as those words left his mouth Butterfly knew exactly who he meant. "Vole hasn't an-"

"Vole doesn't need to hunt!" Her mother cried, standing herself up from her seat. "I'm doing it for him, how many times do I have to tell you? It's far too dangerous for him." And he's too weak to start now anyways. It was sad but it was the truth, that both her mother and Sunrise seemed to be avoiding, if they wanted Vole to hunt they should have done it moons ago because now it was far too late.

"We need mo-"

Again Sunrise couldn't get his words out before Flower immediately cut in. " I said he's not hunting! He doesn't want too and I'm not putting him in that level of danger with all of those monsters going about!" And with that she turned, ducked straight into her den and made the conversation come to a grinding halt.


Nothing. She breathed through her nose again, desperately trying to catch any trails of scent. Still nothing. The plains had been deserted. Nothing seemed to linger, no mice scuttled, no birds flew, no rabbits ran. It was just simply her, standing alone in a massive field. If you could even call it a field anymore. For all the grass seemed to have withered and died. It used to be beautiful, absolutely gorgeous, the meadows. There used to be flowers round every corner, pretty, appealing, lovely flowers. All kinds of them as well. Some soured up on stalks like the wonderful sunflower,others stayed closed to the ground like daisies and dandelions. On some days there could even be an abundance of bluebells, blessing the green with bright spots of radiant blue.Those were all gone now, all that was left as she wandered on through was dirt and fading grass.

Her paws sank into the dirt as she walked, letting the grains get trapped in-between her pads. It was never a pleasant feeling but a necessary one as she went on her hopeless quest for prey. Still though she persisted on, her ears flattening to ignore the roar and turmoil of the two-leg's monsters. Vole needs to eat. She reminded herself when ever the temptation of turning back proposed itself. She could not let him down! The little cat hardly had any energy left and Flower hadn't been able to catch anything for days making the problem all more of an urgent matter. She couldn't bare to see her brother dwindle away anymore. Though no matter how much she looked or sniffed nothing could ever be found.

Then by some miracle something was. A small shrew could be seen weakly scuttling along its path in the distance. It was thin and feeble but it was something and all she needed was something! Times like this did not give the chance to be picky. So before she could even function the thoughts, Butterfly hurled herself after it. Her paws pounding underneath her as it's sweet scent filled her nose. The poor thing hardly even had a chance to understand what was going on before Butterfly's teeth clasped it neck making it drop dead.


Butterfly bolted back to camp at the speed of a hare. Her paws clattered and bashed against the ground underneath as she stormed on through the fields. She needed to get this shrew back to Vole. They'd all be so happy and proud! And he's finally going to have something to eat! He can get better after this. I could teach him how to hunt, rebuild his strength. He'd love learning more about the outside world. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity Butterfly felt the wonderful sensation of hope...

It was not the sight she expected to see when she rushed back to camp though. She never expected to see this. All of the cats were crowded in one small heap staring over something. Her head tilted in confusion as she neared, her eyes searching for a reason for such strange behaviour.

"What's going on?" She asked pushing forward through the crowd. Dropping the shrew on the floor.Nobody answered as they all parted ways,giving her a small path to see what lay before her. The small lifeless body of her brother. And that hope soon died.

"No-no no," She murmured, edging herself closer. This can't be right. This can't possibly be right. But there he was, her precious innocent brother dead on the floor. It was hard to believe. "I caught something though-I caught something. He could have eaten," she cried, her eyes pleading to the cats around her. "He could have lived!"

"No, no he couldn't," someone said softly running their tail along her back. She didn't think to know who it was, the grief and shock numbed her too much to even possibly comprehend. "He was too weak, the shrew wouldn't have made much difference."

"But-but," she choked, her words running dry. Her head spun around the clearing recognising all of those pitying faces. Pity. It should be grief. She didn't want them feeling sorry for her, she wanted her brother. Her eyes glazed over the cats. Her mother stared blankly back, Leaf close at her side while Forest sat a distance away. Grief.

She dragged herself over, unsure of what she was searching for and just sat. Simply sat. Her eyes looked out as the camp reigned in silence. She could feel them all watching, could feel her skin beginning to crawl as she wished for solitude. Lightly, Forest nudged her, a reminder that she was not alone. Yet his eyes were focussed elsewhere, intensely staring at Flower in a sort of unspoken rage that she was far too numb to understand. "He shouldn't be dead," he muttered and Butterfly's ears perked in attention. So she wasn't the only one who thought so? Well it brought some comfort, to know she was not alone in such thoughts. "He could have lived..."

"If only I ran faster," Butterfly finished, guilt finally beginning to rise.Why did it take me so long to find one? Why didn't I look harder? Why didn't I-

"If only she let him hunt." The words pounded into her, her trail of thought completely cut short. Flower,he blames Flower. Her eyes followed his gaze to where she sat, Leaf comforting her. Was it her fault? If she let him hunt would he have survived? She'd argued against her so many times but-

Her thinking came to an abrupt halt as another cat finally piped up, a ferocious yowl rippling across camp. "You see," the scream came. It was from Yarrow and Butterfly felt her ears flatten. This really didn't feel like the time for another row but there she was at it, again. Straight after her brother's untimely death. "This is your fault Sunrise. We should have moved, we should have gone elsewhere. Then he would have had the prey he needed! Then he'd still be here! We need to leave!"

The golden tom didn't answer, didn't even have the time to. It was Forest that replied, making Butterfly tense in surprise. "It's not his fault," he growled directing himself more towards Flower. "It's hers. She wouldn't let him hunt so he didn't have the strength. How could he have possibly of been expected to survive through all of this like that? How did you,Flower?" She didn't answer only stared. "You killed our son!"

The words hung in the air and a period of quiet washed over them. The only sound to be heard was the pattering of paws as her mother entered her den.