Chapter 18
You saw him standing in the badlands, drenched in a sweet, soft rain.
They came back the next night, just as the sun hid behind the hills.
A genial greeting was given to the two she-cats, Aranyer and Ledivier, and a feast was served to discuss their travel, just anything they could celebrate over in these days.
Cats took their places equally distanced from one another next to their chosen companion as per usual, but there was a jovial light in the air.
Ledivier had an infectious smirk on her face, foretelling that the journey had reared good results.
There was little prey, and water could only be found from a stone fountain some ways down, but it was enough for the small group,
"So what've ya got?" Rese was the first to speak once every cat had settled, all in a circle to look upon one another,
"Yeah, so," Ledivier started, partially cutting her off in her excitement, "There's a whole slew of communes west of 'ere! Three of 'em! And they all were awfully friendly when we told 'em who we were," Any hostilities between the six cats were forsaken in light of this news,
"Who're the leaders there?" Rese asked, more polite than Aspenpaw had ever heard her.
Ledivier looked over and cued Aranyer, who had the names memorized,
"Aoiri, Lyndia, and L'vier,"
"How many are they?"
"At least twenty," Ledivier answered, "And they're all suppose' to be experienced with fightin',"
"That's good,"
"I don't trust that much," Aranyer spoke up, "Or at least they don' look like good soldiers,"
"It's better than just the six of us," Aspenpaw jumped in.
His input was accepted but brushed past when Aranyer began speaking again,
"They aren't that far from us. I think tomorrow you ought to all follow us and learn the route, 'cause that's where you'll get caught up,"
Nobody had yet touched the prey that they had placed before them, but as Ledivier bent down, she was followed in beginning the feast.
Roco, who had not yet spoke, found this as her opportunity to turn to her partner and ask in a quiet voice,
"Do they have herbs there?" Aranyer replied between a mouthful of meat,
"Enough," Despite this obviously pleasing her, the look soon turned to concern in Roco's face and she leaned even closer in, whispering something in Aranyer's ear that Aspenpaw couldn't hear.
Aranyer shook her head in response,
"Could I tell everyone a story?" Ledivier suddenly asked, "It's such a nice night to!"
Aspenpaw hadn't seen this excitement from her since he even knew her name, but how she spoke tonight reminded him of how she had acted in the minutes before the battle, the last time she had spoken with her two friends.
There was unanimous agreement to Ledivier's proposition, and the cats settled in properly to hear the story she would tell, "Wonderful! Alright, so, this is a story that's from 'round 'ere, and I heard it when I was still 'ere, fighting with H'Arivier,"
Aspenpaw wondered if that was the name of one of two friends she had had in this commune, or the name of the leader who she served under,
"It goes like: In a small, uprooted den on the far north-west side, just outside the city limits, a great vixen lives, as tall as a street light and as strong as a thunderstorm," Ledivier spoke with a flourish and sweeping movement in her tail, as her audience listened intently,
"The cats there call 'er 'Mama Rain' 'cause when 'er fur blows it sounds like raindrops comin' down. When she was young, the vixen was thrown from 'er fam'ly, 'cause she was too big and powerful, and the males had gotten jealous of the way she was able to handle any task,"
Aspenpaw felt suddenly uncomfortable at the mention of males, and hoped that it would be moved past without any further comment,
"But the isolation wasn't 'nough to kill 'er. She moved a mountain with 'er paws and used it as a den, and she hunted deer and bears with ease. One day, after she'd more than settled outside the city, a young maroon, 'ardly more than a kit, wandered into her den while trying to hide from 'er captors. When the vixen returned from 'er hunt, instead of maulin' the lit'l scamp, she allowed 'er to stay in the den 'til she was rested. The vixen felt an energy surge between the two of them-"
Ledivier emphasized her words stronger and straightened her spine, holding her body up with her front paws in a display of drama, "-and she never, never came to 'arm a she-cat after that. She'll take in any maroon an' fight off the toms,"
None of the other cats seemed to be bothered by the subject matter like Aspenpaw was, even Deya, and it made him remember just how much of a stranger he was here,
"Jean 'ventually turned his attention to 'er after she'd killed so many of his soldiers. He ordered a full offensive against the vixen, but even with 'is 'military prowess,' the toms didn't manage to land a single strike on the vixen. She repaid them in full an' cut them down like termites, even givin' Jean some scars to remember in some of his most delicate places,"
Ledivier snickered and closed out her description of the vixen by saying, "So, since then it's been a safe place for any maroon to run, and the vixen has never been troubled since,"
She lied back down completely, signaling that she was finished,
"Is all o' that real?" Roco asked, looking impressed by the story,
"Well, I've never seen 'er, but I've known such a many cat who do's, or has, I mean,"
"Why don't we go ask Jean? He seems to know 'er well," Aranyer joked with her usual dry voice and both Ledivier and Roco let out small laughs.
Even Rese seemed to be enjoying the story and banter between the comrades, as her eyes shimmered like stars, though she refused to contribute anything.
Deya similarly kept quiet as Ledivier, Aranyer, and Roco continued to joke around about the vixen and Jean.
She was a little ahead of Aspenpaw, as if shielding him from much view, so he couldn't see her face, but she had rested her tail on his back and occasionally it would rise and fall to show her content.
Aspenpaw didn't feel like it was his place to say anything, even if he enjoyed engaging in banter; he was just too much of an outcast in this situation to feel that he had anything to add.
Deya turned back to where Aspenpaw was lying and whispered, "Wanna get outta here?"
He nodded hopefully, and she rose, stretching out like she had been sleeping for ages,
"We're gonna go get some huntin' done. Y'all stay hot here," She announced to the joyful gossipers, who most of all nodded seriously, as if they had never considered any other tone to be taken with her.
Rese had once surmised that Deya was shy due to how little she spoke to the rest of the commune, and Aspenpaw saw it now, how strained and unhumorous her comrades reacted to her.
In a strange, wrenching way, it made Aspenpaw feel less lonely here.
Deya moved moderately through the narrow-way, and Aspenpaw was quick behind her; even the way she walked was emotionless when they were watching.
Once they broke into the open air, Deya gradually increased her speed, obviously energetic but not forcing herself upon Aspenpaw, who just barely kept up beside her, lost mostly in thought.
There was one thing which Ledivier had mentioned that rattled around in his head, a curiosity which he didn't quite understand yet,
"Deya," He caught her attention, and the pair stopped for a moment.
Aspenpaw stepped to the edge of the sidewalk and patted the thunderpath with his tail, pausing for a moment before asking,
"What do you call this in the city?" Deya tilted her head at him, perplexed by the sudden inquiry,
"That's the street," She answered softly, as if to a kit.
Aspenpaw whispered the sound on his tongue, feeling how it moved through his mouth as he looked down upon its meaning, "Why? What do you call them where you're from?"
"A thunderpath," Aspenpaw pulled his head away, a mixture of emotions rushing through him, and he looked to Deya, who smiled at his answer,
"Well, that's quirky. What d'ya call cars there?"
"The things that ride them? Monsters,"
"Monsters?" Aspenpaw felt like a part of his soul had cracked, and he finally figured out why it was that he felt this.
He saw the limited reach of his culture, and he was now given no reason to continue it.
The clans were so far away.
There weren't thunderpaths here, and there weren't monsters.
It was like he was throwing it all away, that world, his clan, his brother.
He didn't show it, he couldn't, right now, so he pulled his strength and opened his mouth,
"Thanks," He said, simple and sharp, and began to continue in the direction they were heading.
It was only a few minutes later when the two cats reached their final destination; the small clearing which they had found together, the island between the streets.
Cars were rushing past, fast and numerous, three of them, almost like they were racing.
Aspenpaw hated himself. But there was a deepening sorrow and erratic fear which drove in his heart and his mind.
He had hardly flinched when the cars came by; everything about who he had once been was slowly being turned away.
His past was fading, and his body was immolating, but his actions were as clear as the mighty street lights, way up on high.
Aspenpaw and Deya sprinted across the tarmac, blacker than the night which engulfed it.
They reached the other side safely and pounced atop the barricading wall.
There were so many barriers, the street, the sidewalk, the wall, all to protect this blotch of sickly, stout trees and grass.
It made Aspenpaw wonder if the twolegs here knew of forests, if they knew more than what was before them.
Aspenpaw certainly hadn't.
He lied in the flat field and faced the sky, fear in his eyes as he stared into the belt.
The stars were glossy with smog, and the moon was nearly full, a bitter sight to see now,
"Well, that was nice, I s'pose," Deya said in an exasperated tone, and for a moment, Aspenpaw didn't realize what she was talking about, and anxiety spread through his body, thinking he'd done something wrong, "But I just can't listen to their babberin' for that long, ya know?"
Aspenpaw relaxed and looked into Deya's face, her uncountable scars glistening through the shallow blades of grass where their heads were turned,
"Tell me something," She said,
"What?"
"Just, anything. Just tell me somethin'. Whatever's been on your mind," The request disturbed Aspenpaw, and he was forced to invent something to say, something which really wasn't on his mind,
"I've just been thinkin' about getting the narrow-way clear so we can all sleep soundly," He offered, much to Deya's amusement.
Aspenpaw didn't understand it when she laughed, but she quickly elaborated by explaining,
"It's called an alley, As," He smiled back to her, but was distressed over her continued corrections, "Yeah, you been workin' non-stop on that," She returned to the answer he had given, but didn't seem to have much to say, until a few more words slipped from her lips,
"Would you be willin' to tell me anything about your brother?"
Aspenpaw immediately tensed up as if faced by a proceeding predator.
He stuttered a moment, trying to find a way to say 'no', before violently clamping his jaws and turning away.
Heavy breathing came from his chest as he shut his eyes and tried to block it all out; every sense.
Suddenly though, Deya came to rest her head on his chest, and he opened his eyes to see her staring up at him,
"I'm sorry," She said with sincerity,
"I'm here to hear it though," She proposed after a few silent moments, "You know help isn't gonna just walk right up to you,"
"I'm not an idiot, Deya!" Aspenpaw didn't want to snap at her, and was now afraid to open his mouth again, knowing he couldn't keep it in.
There was a long pause in the conversation, and Aspenpaw knew that he had upset her, though he didn't look and she never pulled away.
There was just the echo of cars in the distance and wind running over the tops of buildings, blowing the stars across the sky.
He was so cold.
He imagined himself in a desert of snow, entering a black-wooded forest without a way back, no directions, no landmarks, no snow trail.
His legs were numbing, and each step came down lighter and lighter, until he rested atop the snow bank, staring into the shadows which enveloped all his sight,
"Do you wanna hear 'bout my brother?" Deya's voice broke into his mind and dragged him away from the freeze.
Aspenpaw was sure that Deya had once said that she knew very little about her brother, but he was too afraid to say much of anything that he didn't ask, he just steadied his voice into a whisper and accepted her tempting offer,
"O-Okay,"
"Well," Deya began, her voice sending pleasant shivers into Aspenpaw's chest, "It was always just the two of us, no other siblin's and no daddy to give us lovin'. Mama passed when we was just a few moons old, and we din't want to stay there after that, so we 'came wanderers,"
Aspenpaw had never realized before how similar their origins were.
He thought about how hard it had been to lose both of their parents, and thought about how much harder it would have been without a clan to protect them while they healed.
Deya continued, "But yeah, anyway, it was just us through thick an' thin. Mama died right when winter was approachin'," Aspenpaw assumed that meant leaf-bare, "An' we didn't really know how to hunt that well. My brother, his name was Eerie, he was the only one o' us who ever brought back anything,"
The mention of her brother's name put a permanent mark in Deya's voice, as she became quieter and distant, recalling the events no longer as facts, but as the complex depths of hundreds of feelings, "He always tried to give me these huge chunks of meat, while he gnawed on clean bones, but I'd just sit there poutin' 'til he finally took what he deserved. We only made it through the winter 'cause o' the kindness of strangers. Most cats could pass us by when we found places to beg, but there'll always be some bleedin' hearts left in this world,"
She smiled a moment, "I cribbed that from him. He was always sayin' so much, I'll never run out of hearin' his voice,"
Aspenpaw couldn't remember his brother's voice with accuracy, he had heard it distorted so many times in his head that it had simply faded away now,
"What happened to him?" Aspenpaw asked tentatively, unsure of what Deya's reaction would be to his prying. Surprisingly, she answered with little trouble,
"He died soon when we came to the city,"
"How did it happen?" Deya's eyes suddenly shifted, as if she hadn't been prepared for the question,
"Eerie, he, took his life,"
"I'm sorry," Aspenpaw could think of no other response,
"Don't say that," Deya commanded firmly, causing him to recoil.
Aspenpaw opened his curious mouth again a minute later, much to his own regret,
"Do you, know why?" This time, Deya took a few moments to answer.
Aspenpaw wished he could swallow the words back down his throat, but remained silent with suspense until Deya let out a deep, choked breath,
"I think, he felt like this was just, the final destination, an' he-he just, he just, couldn't ex-exist in the city," Her eyes were wet, and she pushed her head forward and away to avoid staining Aspenpaw's pelt with her tears.
Aspenpaw sat up and Deya slipped off him.
For a moment he saw fear in her eyes, like she thought he was rejecting her now that she had told him all this, but that was the opposite of his intentions.
Aspenpaw wrapped his head over her neck and squeezed their bodies together firmly, so that not just fur but flesh was pressed against one another,
"I'm sorry," Deya tried to reclaim herself, "It's just, It gets hard to-to talk about sometimes. I-I've never done this,"
Aspenpaw wanted to tell her that she had nothing to feel bad about, but he was too afraid his own emotions would shine through his voice.
He was crying now too, soft and sweet, continuing to tighten his grip and apply more pressure.
Deya responded with a quiet purr between her soft whimpers.
In the clans, purring was a private matter, and a cat would be silently ridiculed for doing so in public.
As he hadn't heard that sound since he came to the city, Aspenpaw assumed it was similarly tabooed here.
Aspenpaw could count only a few cats who he had ever heard the noise from; Rustheart, Acornpaw, and their mother.
There was a special comfort which he felt now hearing and feeling Deya's purr ring through his body.
The fact that she felt completely safe was enough to make him forget about the world beyond this moment.
He didn't have to think about the future now, he didn't have to think about the clans.
He didn't have to think about Acornpaw.
Almost by instinct alone, his vocal cords strummed, and a deep, resonating rumble passed unnaturally through his throat.
It was so scarcely that he had made this sound that the vibrations felt uncomfortable against his untouched flesh, but the pleasure he received from knowing that he too was safe here overpowered the feeling.
Deya was beginning to grow quieter and quieter as time passed on.
Aspenpaw wondered if she was falling asleep, but he was too afraid to disturb her if he pulled away to look, so he settled in his place, and shut his eyes, this great content never leaving his body until he finally drove off into a deep, unperturbed sleep.
They left in the morning, all the commune, led by Aranyer and Ledivier as they tried to retrace their steps through the constricting alleys and turns always prefaced with a prayer.
Aspenpaw had been hesitant to leave behind the safety of their hidden camp, especially since Deya had theorized that they may not be coming back, forcing him to forget any hope of finishing clearing out the space there, his one project which he had worked so hard on.
Though it would serve them no purpose if they were elsewhere, Aspenpaw felt a severe sense of failure tumbling through his body.
It was more frustrating than he could have expected, and he put blame on the commune despite the irrationality of it.
Nonetheless, he marched on, just as edgy as the rest of the cats, even Ledivier, who had assured them that they would have a safe trip.
They spent as little time by the open streets as they could, but were sometimes forced to sneak through the bustling parades.
Aspenpaw had never seen so many twolegs; so many different colors, shapes, and scars, just like cats.
He wondered how they could walk with so little regard for one another.
The paranoia which Aspenpaw felt when passing a stranger seemed nearly nonexistent for the twolegs.
Though stunned with awe by these brief encounters, Aspenpaw was easily overwhelmed with fear when he was out in the open.
Any sort of hostility, by cats, twolegs, or cars, would quickly overpower the commune.
But they didn't come across any aggressors, and the day soon melted away into a fiery dusk.
The further they went, the quieter and quieter it got, until only a few straggling twolegs were left behind, sitting against the sides of buildings.
Aspenpaw wondered if this is where they were sent when they were sick, as few of them seemed healthy here.
Aranyer suddenly announced that they had arrived, but Aspenpaw couldn't see any signs of cats in the area, "Wait in this alley, we'll go an' speak with them,"
