Chapter 4

"This doesn't make any sense!" Carmen yowled, shaking out her pelt.

"You can say that again," came Hawktalon's voice from behind, low and growling. "But we'd best not complain. Not after what we've been through."

The two of them were staring at a pile of food a tail-length high, most of it human leftovers. They hadn't even needed to hunt. It hadn't stopped the warriors from striking down prey, of course, but their contribution was so tiny in comparison that it was almost an insult. After everything they'd suffered, all those nights going hungry and looking over their shoulder for threats, this splay of concrete and neon welcomed the Clan with open arms as if to say, "you're home now. No need to go farther." Dog scent was little and long between.

This abandoned human den was their first temporary camp in the new City. Far from what they'd seen, this one was a cluster of music and colorful lights and bustle much later into the night than there should have been. Its aura crackled with excitement. Somewhere nearby was a skull-rattling rush of human songs with an underlying rumble so thick they could feel the ground shake to its rhythm.

The murmurs wisping through the Clan created an air of uncertainty. Some were glad for the abundance of resources. Others were adamant that they refused to be spoiled like a pet. Others still were simply annoyed at how unrelentingly the City's blood seemed to run, a constant torrent of sensory attacks against any cat who'd dream of peace.

And there were other cats here. Many other cats. It was hard to ignore their scents carried on the wind and the flash of her eyes in shadow. To meet other strays was nothing new of course, but there seemed to be a high concentration of them in these parts. Darkwood ordered the Clan to mind its business; the strangers had yet to confront them. In fact, they were keen to stay out of view. Why go out looking for trouble when it so often found them? Should the cats of this City reveal themselves and demand an explanation, the Clan was to be polite and reassure them that they were only passing through. He ordered that no blood be spilled unless the locals themselves chose to be hostile.

It was a decision that the likes of Steelclaw were predictably unhappy with. There weren't many who shared his eager claws however, so Carmen removed that possibility from her list of worries.

It was abundant enough as it was.

Thrashing her tail, she left the more crowded part of camp and made her way over to Mosswhisker. The warrior was lying down in a dirty corner with a chicken leg she didn't look too occupied with. She'd been staring off into space an awful lot here lately. Carmen wondered what was going through her mind.

There was too much going on in her own to ask, so she merely sat beside her, and the two of them ate their meal in silence.

#

Threadwhisker was curled up beside Barbclaw atop a cot of pillow fluff. They weren't asleep, merely resting. Hawktalon and Twilightstep had gone out on a walk together. Mosswhisker, Glassclaw, and Fallfur were talking beneath the frame of a broken window. Even Carmen had made a few friends, whispering about something or other to Willowtail and Shadefur. Bellpaw and Slagpaw were sharing a meal. Their parents would join them soon.

It seemed everyone in the whole Clan had someone to be with. Vinepaw had never felt so alone. Sure, there was Bulletpounce, but did her mentor really count? Vinepaw didn't think so. After all, theirs was an assigned relationship. Not chosen.

Memories of that day were still fresh in her mind. She didn't know if they would ever fade. Every waking moment, she felt herself weighed down, every move she made slow as a slug's. When she was a kit, she'd often complain of hunger. Now, the thought of food was nearly enough to make her retch. The tantalizing smells coming from the prey pile did nothing to help her appetite.

With dawn fast approaching, she figured she should get some sleep. Vinepaw scanned the room for something to lay down on. She eventually decided to just sleep on the bare stone floor. It's not like I deserve anything better, she thought as she plopped herself down in a corner next to some rotting planks of wood.

Vinepaw closed her eyes and saw daylight. She saw clouds of dust, teeth, and blood on bone-dry ground. She heard the sound of her sister being ripped apart. Thunderkit… Those screams would forever haunt Vinepaw. Her sister, dead. Her mother, dead. She'd never known her other littermates; they'd all fallen to illness before she was old enough to remember them. Her father was struck by a car when she and the others were only four days old.

The Clan was brimming with realities that she didn't want to face. Yet it was all the family she had left. And somehow, in spite all of its talk of unity and companionship, Vinepaw felt she was being left behind. The Clan was running toward a bright future and leaving her to stew in the darkness of her mind.

"What do you think you're doing?"

And there was also this asshole.

She looked up at the fiery red pelt and green eyes like poison shards of glass. Rubyheart. She wasn't even her mentor and she was making it her goal in life to use Vinepaw as a scratching post. She felt her hackles raise as she slid her claws out, their tips pressing against the floor. Tic-tic they went, their points sliding against every imperfection in the stone.

"Sleeping?" she answered, making every effort to show her confusion in her voice.

Rubyheart's fangs were a whisker away from Vinepaw's face. "You do not take that tone with me, kit. Who do you think you are lounging around like a useless lump of fur? What have you done to serve the Clan today?"

"I'm not a kit!" she argued, sitting up. "I-"

"You are whatever a warrior tells you you are," growled Rubyheart in a voice like a thunderstorm. "If you were a good apprentice, you'd understand that and know better than to argue."

Vinepaw's heart was pounding. They sat there, tails lashing, staring each other down. She hadn't been an apprentice for long. Most warriors still towered over her, Rubyheart included. She peered around for any sign of Bulletpounce, finding none. Instead, Stainpelt was coming up to join the party.

"She's right, my dear. I know our friend Rubyheart can be rather brash, but she means well."

"I can handle this," snapped Rubyheart. "I don't need your meddling."

"Of course, of course," he told her, running his tail along her back to placate her. "No one would ever doubt your problem-solving abilities. I'm only here to offer a reminder: that this poor soul lost her only kin not too long ago."

Vinepaw eyed her surroundings.

Rubyheart's expression softened as she looked down into his eyes. "It's understandable that she may struggle with her newfound duties. Have some grace, won't you?"

"Grace has nothing to do with it," she growled, shoving him away. She turned back to Vinepaw. "The best way to honor your mother and sister is to serve the Clan with everything you have. So, I'll ask again: what did you do today that was any use?"

"I… I carried the sponges and-"

"You think that counts as work? You're no good to us if all you do is mope around, Vinepaw. Bulletpounce is way too soft on you. You should be-"

"I'm no good to the Clan at all! What's the point in trying?"

Rubyheart's blood was boiling. "How dare you interrupt-"

Vinepaw wasn't sure why, but a part of her had thought her words might have meant something there. Some deeply buried voice in her soul had hoped they would hear what had been on her mind and give her some level of encouragement. Not this. The warrior's rage confirmed something to her that made Vinepaw's heart ache like never before.

So it's true, she thought as she ran. The wrong cats died that day. It should have been me.