Recap: Khia and Gideon left Etch to be a housecat, which didn't work out, because she died about an hour later. Heroic intent= sacrifice, learnt the hard way by the trio turned duo. Still, it can't get much worse, right?


We're dying with every step we take

We're dying with every breath we make

And I'll fall in line

-March To The Sea, Twenty One Pilots


The warehouse is an imposing creation. Tall and stark, plainly unwelcoming, tt does not impress Khia, but there is very little that can sway her mood now. She has a mission, a self-assigned quest, and she must complete it. She has no other choice, now that Etch is dead, and she is the one responsible. They left her in the alley, resting on a bed of weeds and flowers, wreathed in her own blood and the consequences of heroism. Shoulder-to-shoulder, Andraste and Gideon stand beside her, both solemn and grave. Gideon's kinked tail twitches fitfully in the breeze, his sunny optimism shattered. He has not yet bothered to lick her blood from his chest, or perhaps he keeps it like a badge, a persevering echo. One final, bloody momento. She wishes she had the same. The guard at the door simply stares at them as they stand unmoving, staring with vacant eyes at the warehouse of rebellion and revenge.

"Can I help you?" she asks, levelling them with a flat stare. Her bored tone indicates she would rather not.

Andraste steps forward, shrugging the misery from her shoulders. "They're here to join your ruddy cause, actually, though I've no clue why." She flicks her tail to the two of them. Khia remembers the plan, but vaguely, as if she concocted it years ago. Infiltrate, agglomerate, liberate. The details are hazy; she's no longer sure how to escape, and wonders if they even should. Despite the looming rebellion, the warehouse suddenly seems a far safer place than the streets. Perhaps that's a problem for tomorrow; she wants to eat, sleep, forget today happened. It doesn't seem like an easy task.

The grey tabby scrutinizes them; Gideon, growing into a strapping young thing, seems to stand up to standards, but her green eyes linger skeptically on Khea. To make up for her lack of brawn or physical assets, she glares fiercely at the lean she-cat.

"Okay," the tabby sighs, reluctantly rising to her feet. "Follow me." She enters the looming warehouse door and Andraste follows without pause. Khia mimics her confidence, and Gideon trails behind them. Once they enter, the silhouettes of many shapes become apparent. As her eyes adjust to the gloom, she sees most are mock-fighting, while some rest on the sidelines and egg the others on. A few stop to stare at them, but the majority carry on, and Khia flinches at every snarl, every howl and hiss. Gideon notices, and presses his shoulder reassuringly to hers. For some reason she can't bring herself to shrug it away. Leaning against him, ignoring the fact she will probably regret it, she scans the shadowed crowd for her brother, but finds no trace.

The grey tabby halts at the stairs and nods at a shadowed silhouette guarding the top. In turn, it stands and disappears into the inky blackness behind it. As they wait, stewing in uncertainty, Andraste turns to them and smiles softly. "You know I can't stay with you," she says, sounding simultaneously guilty and relieved. "My human means well, and I can't really leave her, she'd be distraught-"

"We understand," says Gideon. He doesn't have it in him to hold a grudge, although Khia feels small flickers of resentment towards the pretty housecat- who is she to send them off into jeopardy without a word, guiding her cousin to her death and then abandon them? Yet she understands, in an infinitesimally small way. She wouldn't leave her brother for a hollow rebellion, a fate of humiliation and doom, a guaranteed and inexorable defeat. It is a fool's quest, and Andraste is no fool. Khia nods along with Gideon's words; she understands, but she doesn't have to like it. Still, once she finds Cariad she'll no longer need Andraste, so her feelings right now are moot.

"I know you do," Andraste replies; the guilt hasn't left her face, not completely. "I felt like I should explain."

"Andraste?" The voice that echoes over her sleek white shoulder is entirely unexpected, wholly familiar, intimately out-of-place. Andraste turns abruptly, and Khia is immediately hidden behind her, although Gideon is still visible. Khia stiffens immediately, regret and resentment crawling over her pelt like flies. Gideon's gaze flicks to her face, and she sends him a look of panic in return.

"Rhydderch," the housecat returns dryly. "I'd heard you'd joined the cause. I can't fathom why." Behind Andraste, Khia tenses; she had no idea Ru was a part of this cultish revolution; he'd seemed firmly opposed to the idealism that encompassed the rebellion, front and center. PureClan is good for business, he'd said once, when she was not supposed to be listening. She hadn't known at the time who exactly PureClan were, but it is glaringly obvious now. She glares at the floor; Ru is not often known for his hypocritical tendencies, but she thinks now there's more to him than ever met her eye.

"A favour was called in," he says gruffly, sounding not at all happy about it. Khia wonders what kind of favour could possibly compel him to join this ill-matched army, this errant rag-tag group. Perhaps Cariad plays a part, she thinks with hope. Since he can no longer protect her, he may have turned to her brother. Promptly, she will be proven very wrong. "What are you doing here, anyway? I never would have taken you for a rebel."

Derisively, Andraste snorts. "Of course not. I'm dropping off Gideon here. He's come to find his brother." Perceptively, Gideon straightens, and Khia imagines Ru is giving him a careful once over. Will he recognize him? Anyone with such a messed up tail is bound to draw attention, and keep it. He's likely staring at the blood on his chest, and wondering how he came by it; he can't know it's his daughter's, that she died for a reason Khia can't quite comprehend. She wishes he'd been there; his very name could have driven those thugs from the alley, saved her when Khia had not known she'd needed saving at all. For a moment, she pictures Rhydderch dying in Etch's place. It seems right, a satisfying compromise. She is almost irked that this version of events has not come to be, not when it placates so many wrongs.

Rhydderch must have completed his cursory inspection, and addresses Gideon in a warm manner, "I hope you find him, kid." His tone oozes likability, hospitality and only Khia seems to be able to tell it's not real. She'd always believed his silver tongue, his honeyed voice, but the days of her own gullibility have fallen far behind her. She can't stand that voice anymore, can't stomach the lies it spoonfed her, crafted and woven to apocryphal perfection. Gideon can't seem to detect his well-hidden apathy, and nods gratefully at his words. Ever the incessant flirt, Ru turns his attention back to the she-cat in front of him. "You won't stay, will you?" he asks, playfully light. Khia wrinkles her nose; she doesn't like this facet of Ru, the enticing philanderer, the tom who displays his libido as proudly as battlescars. It only serves to remind her how flawed he truly is; it reminds her he is the one who lured Arrah into her caged, and deigned to do the same to her.

"No," Andraste scoffs, though somehow she mirrors his tone, "not even for you, Ru."

She can hear his smile in his voice; the whole exchange makes her feel like gagging. She doesn't, because it never does any good to gag when trying to hide from someone you're trying to avoid.

"Fair enough," Ru replies affably. "We're all doomed anyway."

Andraste shifts uncomfortably; she must be seeking some way out of this one-sided conversation. Khia exhales silently, closing her eyes; she's been through hell today, and it doesn't appear like she's getting out anytime soon. "What are you really doing here, Rhydderch?" she asks lowly, glaring at him with all the fierceness she can muster as she shoulders past Andraste. Given her tiny size, it's actually an impressive amount. A small army of emotions flicker on his face, but his shock is broadly apparent, along with his unveiled rage.

"You," he breaths, looking murderous. Khia gulps, but stands her ground- she won't run from him, this creature who needs a cage to contain what he can't handle. In between one moment and the next, he sweeps her to him with a foreleg, crushing her to his chest as he presses as mollifying lick to her dusty forehead. She can feel him shaking, imperceptibly, slight tremors that pass from his body to hers. "I thought I'd lost you, Spots." She tries not to flinch at the mention of her old nickname, the only affectionate term anyone has ever thought to grant her. Even as he says it, she can hear his angry voice, growling that she is safe, right here. She will never forget his palpable fury, the way he intended to keep her caged and fettered in a rotting house, brimming with corruption and a misery so absolute it will never be washed from its walls.

"Who says you haven't?" she snaps, pushing back and glaring up at him. The shock is still abject on his face, although she can see a discernable confusion in his eyes. There's a dull pain in her chest, as though she doesn't want to her him, to see her pain reflected in his gaze, but she ignores it.

Rhydderch flattens his ears against his head, the picture of a thoroughly abashed tom. "I never should have put you in a cage. All I could think about was keeping you safe, and the frontlines of a rebellion is the most dangerous place you could ever be. I hope I can earn your forgiveness, if not your trust-"

"Maybe if you could see past your ridiculous sense of duty," Khia spits, watching him flinch at every word, "then Etch might not have died!" Gideon inhales sharply behind her, and she can feel Andraste radiating with disapproval. She ignored the pair in favour of watching Ru shrink in on himself, looking bewildered. There is perhaps guilt there, too, if she cares to look hard enough. Finally, the blood on their pelts must make unassailable sense. After a moment, Ru stands straight again and matches her glare with a look of withering consternation.

"If you hadn't been so insistent on your foolhardy mission, Etch wouldn't have died either," he replies coldly. "Anyone could see it was flawed and irresponsible, but you just had to do it anyway. I was given a task, and that meant keeping you alive. If you have a problem with it, take it up with your parents."

Khia's ears perk up at the mention of her mysterious parentage despite herself. Rhydderch notices and smirks wryly with a distant sort of humour.

"Your parents left you in my care, Khia. I am in charge of you."

She can't help herself. "Why?" she blurts, recalling what little she knows of her origin. Her name was Sablefrost of PureClan. That is it, that meagre title, a pittance. She only knows a name, and that is perhaps all she will ever discover.

"You're illegitimate. Keeping you would have resulted in your death, Sablefrost's death, Smokefang's death…"

Just as he begins to vaguely piece it together, a small party descends down the stairs. At their head is a dainty scarred she-cat- the one she saw at the Bayard's, the one who clinically picked a child legion and left as quickly as she came. Her eyes had passed over her with such dismissive finality; she remembers how small she had felt, not even suitable to die. Beside her is the charismatic tom and the grey guard. As they reach the foot of the stairs, Miss steps forward and smiles brightly. Her gaze is centered on Gideon, and Khia bristles with irritation.

"Hello," she says, smooth and practiced. "It is with gratification that I accept anyone into our company. I heard you are asking to join. What is your name?"

"Err...Gideon," says Gideon. He looks a little unnerved.

"We gladly welcome you to the rebellion, Gideon," she says warmly, disarming in a manner that could make most cats forget they had just accepted their death warrant.

"I'm here too," Khia snaps, visibly ruffled. At this, Miss glances down, bemused, at this tiny scrap of fur she had failed to notice. If anything, she looks amused.

"You seem a little young, dear," she murmurs, as though speaking to an infant.

"I'm not," she retorts, puffing out her chest in an effort to look taller. It will not bode well to have overcome all previous obstacles and fail and the finale because of her diminutive size.

Behind her, Andraste chuckles and remarks, "She's not, trust me. She's smart and quick, and I've never met a feistier creature." Miss still seems unconvinced, but she shrugs at Andraste's words and quirks her mouth in a sardonic line.

"Okay," she relents, "do what you want." That amused flicker in her eyes does not die away.

Oh, I will, Khia thinks, a little ominously. You'll see soon. Ru looks dismayed, but does not voice a complaint, and this in itself offends Khia. You care enough about me to imprison me, but not rescue me from a doomed army? Suit yourself. After this, she does not plan to talk to him again, and she could care less if he dies at the claws of PureClan. So she thinks, but that dull pain is still there, coupled with the fresh wound of Etch's death. It's a scar she'll bear until she dies, although she may not be waiting long.

"Follow me," the grey guard says, flicking her tail before starting to wend her way through the crowd of street rogues and bought soldiers alike. Khia and Gideon share a long look with Andraste, whose soft smile is bittersweet.

"Good luck," she whispers, touching noses with both of them. She is a pure cat, clean and unmarred, and Khia is suddenly glad she will not partake in this bloody war.

"Goodbye," Gideon says in return, and Khia nods. In unison, they turn and follow the guard, winding their way through a strange crowd, ignoring curious looks and inquisitive comments. Soon enough they reach the opposite wall of the warehouse. Grates have been pushed aside to form a system of nests and burrows. It is a cosy space, lined with old newspapers and sparse towels. Khia's nose twitches; a familiar scent lingers here, sending excitement fluttering down her spine. Cariad. He has been here, although the scent seems a little stale. She wonders what he'll say, when he recognizes her. It occurs to Khia that he might be mad; she has risked herself in so many ways, courted danger after danger. Khia dismisses the thought with ease. She cannot imagine him being anything but happy, ecstatic, thrilled.

"You can sleep here," the guard says, pointing down at a generous compartment. Others must sleep here, a thought not agreeable to Khia. She can't abide snoring. "You'll start training in the morning. It might be a good idea to make friends. It's a lonely place without them." With that parting remark, she strolls away, leaving the pair to their own devices. Gideon glances down at their new living arrangements before hopping into it, settling in a corner. Khia follows wordlessly, for a lack of anything better to do. She may as well formulate some new plots, or refine her old one.

"What are we gonna do?" he mutters as she crouches beside him.

"Find my brother, your brother...Ruari and Brine too," she whispers; the mention of her cousins sticks unpleasantly in her throat, but she pushes it out anyway. She can't leave them here, even if it's only for Etch. "And then we get the hell out. Sound good?"

Gideon grins for a moment. "Sure thing, boss." His smile fades; the antidote for his incurable optimism, she's discovered, is merely the death of a friend. She wonders if there was perhaps more to their relationship, a hidden level Khia never noticed. Maybe their rapport was more affectionate than she ever realized, but she understands- Etch was simply lovable, in a way Khia can never imitate. She considers asking him, but the pain seems too raw, and she suspects Etch is a topic neither of them wish to broach right now.

"I'm glad you're with me," she says instead, a sentence she suspects neither of them ever expected to hear. Khia glances at him, and finds an inscrutable look in his green eyes.

Before he can reply, a cat jumps down into the the nest and blinks a little as she spots them. "Oh," she says, realization dawning on her face, "you must be the new guys, right? I'm Brava." She seems friendly enough, but Khia leaves the talking to Gideon, once again.

"We are," Gideon replies. "This is Khia, and I'm Gideon." As the words leave his mouth, two more cats descend into the compartment. The first is a pretty sorrel she-cat, delicate despite her slight musculature. Still, she is larger than Khia. The next is a bright ginger tom, lean and handsome. Her mouth goes dry as his eyes land on her face- they're an ardent, luminous blue. As quickly as his gaze fell on her, it moves on.

"Gideon?" he exclaims, disbelief evident. He freezes where he stands.

"Thaddeus!" Gideon cries, grinning widely. He rushes forward, leaving Khia bereft in her corner, and collides with the handsome tom. Their sibling similarities are muted, and not entirely obvious, but Khia can easily see they're brothers. "I can't believe I found you right away!" The pair laugh and tussle half-heartedly, while the she-cats watch on with mild confusion. After a minute of jubilant wrestling, they stand up and shake dust from the fur.

"This is Elettra, and I see you've met Brava," Thaddeus says, gesturing to his sorrel companion. "This is my brother," he proclaims, and the others nod in sudden understanding. "And you are?" he asks, turning his gleaming gaze back to Khia; she is unnerved under his attention, although she does not know why. Surely nothing should faze her by now, but the charisma he exudes unsettles something in her stomach.

"Khia," she says, sounding, if possible, gruffer than ever. She winces internally. Gideon glances at her with puzzlement, but she ignores him in favour of staring at Thaddeus.

"Call me Thad," he says winningly, giving her the barest of smiles. Her stomach flutters in response, and she schools her features into disinterest, although she can't tell if it works. Get a grip, she scolds, you just met the guy. He's pretty handsome thou- no, Khia, no.

"I'm looking for someone," she says, reminding herself of her mission. "My brother. His name is Cariad."

This elicits a grin. "We know him, don't we, Elettra?" he says, glancing knowingly at the sorrel she-cat; in return she flattens her ears against her head as though flustered. Khia can see there's something at play here, yet the reality eludes her. As she ponders the telltale gesture, it's abundantly, abruptly obvious; while she has laboured to get to him, to save him, Cariad has settled in nicely. He hasn't worried in the slightest about her. Instead, he's just replaced her. Khia feels crushed. She has thought of nothing but him, but the opposite is clearly not true. Perhaps he won't want to leave at all. Maybe he won't even want to see me.

Oblivious, Thad continues. "He's a good friend, but you won't find him here anymore. They sent him on a mission to PureClan, but only his partner came back. She said they got him."

Breathing becomes a difficult task as the enormity of his words hit her. She's too late; he's already gone, and likely dead. Gideon stares at her with pity and moves to press his muzzle against her shoulder, but she flinches aside. She will not take his sympathy, not when his own brother stands right at his side. Failure is not a new concept, but it stings all the same. It's just another to add to her list: failed Arrah, failed Etch, failed Cariad. If Gideon sticks around much longer she'll probably fail him too.

"That doesn't mean anything," Gideon whispers, for her ears only. "We can still find him. Still rescue him."

"There's no rescuing the dead," she bites back.

As she says it, venom colouring her words, there is a commotion above them. Desperate for a reprieve, an excuse to forget, Khia sticks her head out of the nest to see two figures descending the stairs. The larger one hobbles, as though his leg is not in working order. Thad appears beside her and follows her gaze. "That's the Clanner," he says with detached interest. "The one Az brought back instead of your brother."

"Maybe he knows something," Gideon adds, already clambering out of the nest. There's a small group gathering at the bottom of the stairs, watching the limping tom as if he is some kind of exotic exhibit. Khia follows, struggling to climb out of the drainage; Thad gives her a helpful boost with her shoulder, although it makes her ears burn in embarrassment. With a mortified thanks she scrambles after Gideon. She can see the enmity on the Clanner's face as they draw near, as though he would like nothing more than to slaughter them all for their unwelcome proximity.

"I will not be sociable because some mangled she-cat tells me to," he snarls to the small sandy-ginger she-cat at his side. Some of the younger cats in the crowd snicker.

"Give it a rest, Oakpaw," she retorts, lashing her tail. "We all have to do things we don't want to. Me, pressured into kidnapping someone. You, forced to make smalltalk."

Khia shoves her way through the throng as they reach the bottom of the stairs, still bickering. Oakpaw's eyes land on her pelt and he frowns, warily studying her. "You," she says impatiently; he seems affronted by her shortness. "What's happening to my brother?"

Oakpaw rolls his eyes; it appears he is not a likable cat, although she can relate to this. "Listen, you idiot, I'm not some forest oracle. I don't know your brother."

She bears her teeth in response. "Bulky, black tom? Last seen being trampled by PureClan warriors? Sent on a doomed mission for whatever myopic reason?" Oakpaw's eyes narrow, and he sits down with a thump, though the small ginger she-cat continues to keep a close eye on him. He shrugs at her, as though she expects a detailed, insightful response, and he clearly can't supply it.

"Look, I saw him, alright? Tackling a few warriors by himself. If he's not dead already, they'll throw him in the cave and and use him for an assessment."

Her pelt prickles warily; whatever the cave is, it sounds ominous. "What assessments?"

Oakpaw levels her with a cool stare. His complete apathy is evident, and she loathes him for it. "It doesn't matter. Either way he'll end up dead. Even if... He'll still die, okay? Best mourn and move on now."

Khia knows he's trying to give her his own warped, tactless advice, though she won't heed it. "Cariad won't just roll over and die, you know," she snaps. She can still see it, though- Cariad dying any number of agonized deaths, and it rends at her heart to picture it. The knowledge of her failure is a jarring pressure in her chest.

"The best you can hope for is revenge," Oakpaw rumbles, watching her strangely. Still, he turns back to his ginger guardian, holding his wounded foreleg in the air. "I've socialized, I'm ready to go back to my hole." There's a plaintive plea hidden in his words, behind his gruff impudence. She tsks at him in mock-disappointment, but turns and begins to accompany him on the long trek upstairs. Bitterly, Khia hopes he falls and breaks his other legs.

"There's still hope," Gideon mutters, standing too close behind her. He sounds like he regrets approaching the Clanner at all, which appeases Khia momentarily. "Don't give up, Khia."

"I don't give up that easy," she announces, pushing it all aside; the remorse, the guilt, the pressure, the grief. It will not become her. Her mission must be adjusted, but it is still her mission. Cariad might not be a damsel in distress, but he needs her, where she once needed him. Khia will not fail again, and that thought gives her comfort through the dark night.


two reviews for the last chapter was a little bit sad guys :/

anyway khia finally reached the warehouse, it's only taken her the entire story so far

oakpaw is seriously becoming my favourite now, i relate to him on every level