Month 20 - Leaffall
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The grass rustled softly in the light but bitterly cold breeze. Floodstrike watched the breath fog in front of his muzzle and waited, swaying slightly on his feet to mimic the movement of the grass.
Beside him, Sparrowsway did the same and, past him, Barleybee and, even further, Boldmoth and her apprentice, Erminepaw. Floodstrike couldn’t see the others except for the barest of glimpses when the moonlight caught the grass just right but he knew they were out there. RisingClan, EarthClan, and SkyClan had gathered to keep their agreement with the city cats and had slipped out towards the city under cover of darkness. Now, with the peak of the closest twoleg nest in sight, they held position, waiting for orders.
After a long period of quiet stillness, a cat appeared on his left - Bluffpaw, Orangestar’s apprentice.
“Move to the back of the barn, a clearing’s length away,” he whispered, “Stay down wind.” He slipped past Barleybee and repeated the message, proceeding down the frontline until his spotty ginger and white pelt disappeared into the dry grass.
Floodstrike nodded to Sparrowsway, who returned the look, then twitched his tail for the cat behind him and started off towards the back of the ‘barn’. When they reached about a clearing’s worth of distance from the wooden structure, Floodstrike perked his ears and tasted the air carefully. The barn smelled of hay and old wood and various city cats and other animals. Closer by, he could smell Goldenstar, Orangestar, and one of the city cats he had met before, Schmidt’s brother if he remembered right.
He glanced around quickly, decided that the barn was providing enough cover, and bounded in their direction. Sparrowsway hissed softly at him but he ignored his brother’s warning. As their scents grew closer, he slowed to a stealthy pace again and ended up coming up between Goldenstar and Orangestar, interrupting the conversation.
“Floodstrike,” Goldenstar gasped softly. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah,” he twitched an ear to dismiss her concern. “What’s the plan?” Goldenstar’s brow furrowed darkly.
“We’re just waitin’ on Sardine,” said the ginger kittypet. “Once he enters the barn, the cat up there will give y'all the signal and you’ll swing the trap shut.” He lifted his tail slightly to indicate a framed hole in the wall near the top of the building with a white furred kittypet sitting in it. The cat looked down and twitched their tail slightly in acknowledgement.
“Floodstrike, go back to your position,” Goldenstar said sternly.
“I want to be at the front of the push with you,” Floodstrike stated, ignoring her order.
“Floodstrike, this is not up for debate,” she said more aggressively, her tail starting to arch behind her. “Go back to your position and wait for the signal.”
“I deserve to get justice for my apprentice,” he snapped back. The kittypet’s gaze softened sympathetically. Orangestar looked deeply uncomfortable.
“You will,” Goldenstar hissed, rising up on her toes in a threatening display she had never used on him before, “but right now you will go back to your position and follow orders. This is not the time for a tantrum.” The words struck him sharply, along with the furious posture she had turned on him, and he wilted under it, all his determination dissipating like scattered leaves.
“Right.” He swallowed, unsure how to feel. “Sorry, Goldenstar.” He saw a flicker of guilt cross her face but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Floodstrike turned tail and slank back towards the others.
Softly, Orangestar cleared her throat and said, “Wes, you were saying?”
When Floodstrike returned to his position, Sparrowsway was glaring at him. “What was that?” He hissed under his breath.
“Something stupid,” Floodstrike grumbled.
“Yeah, no kidding,” scoffed his brother.
“Leave him alone,” he read Barleybee’s lips more than he heard her voice. “You know this is hard for him.”
“Can we all just shut up and focus?” he said a bit louder than he meant to.
The waiting was unbearable. Floodstrike looked up at the waxing moon and tried to catch it moving across the sky. Was it closer to the roof now than it was before? The stars laid muted under the glowing light from the city. He wondered if Lakepaw was watching him. He wondered if she was embarrassed to be his apprentice.
His paws were cold. His inner ears ached from the dry chill in the air. He shook out his paws and kneaded loose clods of dirt with his claws to try and keep some feeling in his toes. When was that kittypet in the barn going to give them the signal?
After a while, Goldenstar slank out of the grass and approached him. “Floodstrike, we need to talk,” she said in hushed tones.
“Okay,” he swallowed.
Goldenstar glanced at the cats on either side of him before stepping in closer. “Look, I’m sorry I was so aggressive earlier. This is serious and I can’t have my warriors undermining me right now. We both know I let you get away with a lot of stuff and I need to stop doing that. You’re not my apprentice anymore, you’re a full warrior, and I need to treat you like one. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” he nodded sullenly. “I shouldn’t have come over in the first place. I just wanted to know what was going on.”
“I know,” sighed Goldenstar. “Wes says Sardine is supposedly on his way so it shouldn’t be long. Just have patience.” And with that, she slipped away, farther along the line. Floodstrike grit his teeth in frustration but held his tongue.
The time stretched on even longer. Messengers came through and told everyone to watch for the signal: a raised tail from the white cat in the barn window. Then they waited. It felt like forever as the night dragged slowly towards morning, the moon rising even higher above them.
Then, there it was, a lift of the cat’s tail. Floodstrike leapt into action, darting swiftly but quietly forward and around the side of the barn towards the big entryway on the front. This was it, he thought, his heart starting to pound.
Inside, he could hear voices. The first was mocking but put together. “... really, Rudy, I’m hurt that you didn’t invite me to your little shindig. I had to hear about it through a friend of a friend.”
“Who’s that?” This voice was gruffer and deeper in, more muffled by the straw.
“Oh, I shouldn’t kiss and tell,” said the first voice. “But they were very eager to sell you out, I’m afraid. It’s a shame, really. I was hoping our little game would be a little more interesting than this but it seems we’ve reached the end.”
The second voice laughed. “Yeah, I bet you were hoping that.” Floodstrike’s speed had gotten him to the front of the barn faster than the rest of the front lines and he slowed down to wait for the others.
The first voice said condescendingly, “You don’t seem to be understanding how the end is going to play out, Rudy. What, you think you can win this?”
“Sure do,” said the second voice - Rudy. “I could beat you and your squad of little girls with my paws in boots.”
“Hah!” the first voice laughed. “I’d genuinely like to see you try, that sounds hilarious.” Russetfrond, Coyotechaser, Songdust, and Bogmist emerged from the grass beside Floodstrike and he nodded to them, letting Russetfrond take the lead as they rounded the corner. He didn’t want to disappoint Goldenstar by rushing things and ruining the ambush.
Still, he was quick on the deputies’ heels, claws itching to see use. As they came around the corner, he spotted two loose groups of cats, one sitting in different positions around the barn, the other clustered near the entrance as if they had just entered. Near the back of that group were several toms with notched ears, all craning their necks to see what was going on. He recognized one of them by his scarred, sable pelt and his blood started to boil inside his veins.
One of the chaff cats had his mouth open to scent the barn and he whipped around, suddenly able to taste the Clan cats on the wind. “Oh, shit!” Russetfrond collided with him and chaos broke over the crowd.
“Savages!” went up the cry.
“Seal off the exits!” shouted Coyotechaser, “Nobody gets out!”
Several of the warriors took up positions in the entrance but Floodstrike had his eyes on Van Pelt. He lunged and slammed into the rogue claws first, tearing a nasty wound open over his shoulder. The rogue spat furiously and batted sharply at his head before they broke away and started to circle. The barn was filled with caterwauling and cats shouting to each other.
Van Pelt laughed and declared, “Damn, kid! You turned into quite the beanpole!” He darted in to give Floodstrike a gash on his nose. “Never grew into your ears though.”
“I’m not some helpless apprentice anymore,” snarled Floodstrike as he tackled the rogue to the ground.
“You fight like one!” laughed Van Pelt with a series of rabbit kicks. One caught Floodstrike hard in the gut and he tumbled away. Managing to roll to his feet, he just barely managed to leap out of the way of Van Pelt’s claws. He danced backward a few paces, then darted back in to swipe at his opponent's face, then turned to follow as Van Pelt twisted out of the way and went for his hind quarters. Floodstrike ducked low against the straw and waggled his hips before leaping, once again tackling Van Pelt to the ground.
Together, they tumbled in a hissing, spitting clump of claws and teeth until Floodstrike’s back hit a metal shelf on the edge of the room hard and he cried out in pain. Van Pelt laughed his cruel, grating laugh and pressed his advantage, managing to score a deep cut on his soft belly. Floodstrike snarled and kicked the rogue hard in the face, rattling the metal things on the shelf with the force of it. Van Pelt stumbled back, cursing under his breath, and Floodstrike rolled off of the shelf and into a defensive crouch.
“You brat!” Van Pelt spat, running a paw over his eye a few times.
“Told you,” shrugged Floodstrike smugly.
“You’re right,” Van Pelt’s eyes darted over the room beside them, “it’s just not as fun now that you’re all grown up.” He lunged to the side and Floodstrike braced himself in confusion, waiting for the lunge to turn into a feint but it didn’t. Too late, he saw what Van Pelt had been looking for. The rogue slammed into an unsuspecting Erminepaw, sinking his teeth into the apprentice as he took her to the ground.
Floodstrike yowled, fear and anger erupting within him, and he dove after Van Pelt. His teeth found the rogue’s tail and he tugged sharply on it, allowing Erminepaw to squirm out of his claws. Van Pelt laughed and turned to swipe at Floodstrike only to spin and slash his claws across the apprentice’s side again as soon as Floodstrike let him go.
“Leave them alone!” Floodstrike roared, rearing up to smack him roughly about the ears.
“Touched a nerve, did I?” cackled the rogue, batting his paws out of the way. Erminepaw hesitated in their readied stance, glancing between Floodstrike and his opponent and where Boldmoth was struggling against a pair of her own rogues.
“Go with her,” Floodstrike told her, “I’ve got this one.”
“Do you?” taunted Van Pelt. Erminepaw nodded regardless and leapt for the other fight. Van Pelt tried to snag her with his claws but Floodstrike swung a paw out and struck him in the front of the throat, stopping him dead in his tracks as he gagged and gasped for air.
“Yeah, I think I do,” smirked Floodstrike, pressing his advantage to throw the rogue off balance and strike at his underbelly. “You think you’re so tough but you’re just a pathetic little bully!”
“Look who’s talking,” Van Pelt wheezed. Above them, the metal things on the shelf rattled violently as Boldmoth jumped and kicked off of it to land on top of one of her opponents and a set of big cylinders crashed to the ground with a hollow clang, nearly hitting Floodstrike in the head. He managed to twist out of the way, only to look up and see that Van Pelt was on his feet, leaping through the gap in the shelf to press against the wall.
“You can’t get out that way,” Floodstrike growled, moving to block the edge where the shelf met the wall but Van Pelt just sneered at him.
“Who says I'm running?” he said, rearing up to give the shelf a shove from behind. It wobbled and tipped, showering more metal cylinders on the cats fighting below. Erminepaw backed up against the shelf to avoid them and Floodstrike’s stomach twisted as an image of her crushed beneath its weight flashed into his mind. He sprang through the shelving and grabbed their scruff in his teeth, barreling out the other side into a bank of straw and dust. Behind him there was a mighty clatter and a cat screamed in pain.
“Boldmoth!” cried Erminepaw. Floodstrike’s throat tightened. He wheeled around and there was Boldmoth, her back leg pinned beneath a red metal box. Beside her, a kittypet lay wheezing under the bulk of the shelf, his chest deformed from the impact. The other rogue Boldmoth had been fighting was trying to get him out to no success. Van Pelt was gone.
“Fox dung,” Floodstrike hissed, hopping up over the shelf into the gap where Boldmoth was pinned. “Just hang on, Boldmoth, we’ll get you out.”
“It’s definitely broken,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Help me push!” said Erminepaw, putting their paws up against the box. Floodstrike joined her and together they heaved against its side. The box was heavier than expected and Boldmoth cried out again, her tail bristling from the pain.
“Maybe we should wait for the healers,” Erminepaw swallowed. “We could mess it up more if we’re not careful!”
“No,” Boldmoth gasped, hunched over with her eyes shut tight. “I’m a sitting duck here. We don’t have time to wait.”
“One more shove should do it,” said Floodstrike. “Three, two, one-!” They heaved again, and with a loud ker-thunk! the box toppled over and off of Boldmoth’s crumpled leg. Floodstrike pressed up against her bad side and heaved her to her feet with his shoulder. “Easy… there we go. Come on.”
“Erminepaw can escort me,” she said, sounding strained, “you get back to the fight.”
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yeah, flea-brain, just go!” she snapped. Floodstrike nodded and hopped up onto the shelf to get a better view. Beneath it, the rogue winced. There! -- Floodstrike spotted Barleybee and Sparrowsway fighting side by side and he launched off of the shelf and into the fray to join them, his claws hungry for blood.