Morningspot and Perchpaw go out on patrol. All of a sudden, they hear a bone chilling sound. It was hoarse, loud and frantic. It stopped, then began again, on repeat. It sounded like Talontooth.
The two cats rushed towards the noise, and out near the border they saw...Talontooth? Morningspot freezes in fear. As Perchpaw sees her Clanmate, she rushes down the hill, saying she'll help. Morningspot is frozen in place before she finally manages to burst out a warning found too late: "Perchpaw, no! That's not him!" [SKILL REVEAL: FORMIDABLE FIGHTER]
(Morningspot, warrior, female, 14 moons. Nervous.)
(Perchpaw, apprentice, female, 7 moons. Adventurous)
(A Fake Cat. Burn the bodies, lest they stand up again.)
---
Morningspot's body was burning and her lungs were heaving. She couldn't stop. She couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. Pain surged whenever she landed on her front right paw. Her legs were stained black and red. She felt a mixture of saliva and viscera roll down her chin as she panted; the weight of Perchpaw on her back hindering her sprint. The only thing that prevented her from falling apart was Perchpaw's faint breathing - a strangled snore against the apprentice's now-broken jaw and lolling tongue.
That was not Talontooth.
Adrenaline and pure terror drove her back to safety. Her body knew its way to camp without looking.
The wet, muddy ground transformed into a padded, clear path. She heard the morning bustle of cats.
Then she heard screaming.
Someone had jumped down to help her back into camp. Other cats stirred into action. Terror lit the clan like cloud-parted sunshine.
Perchpaw needed help. She needed help. That's all she could think.
"Help," Morningspot's voice caught in her throat, ragged. "She needs help."
Morningspot heard a despairing, anguished wail.
Olive.
She heard Branchpaw calling her sister's name in desperation.
Redstar barked orders. Words fell around her in disjointed, horrified cacophony. Her vision was crystal clear, and completely blind. Her body was stretched across time and crushed into a singular point.
"Foxdung, foxdung, oh - Morningspot, give her here - "
"M-Mama?"
"Airkit, come here - "
"That's Woodcrawler blood, no mistaking it."
"Morningspot, are you injured? What happened?"
"Morningspot?"
The molly couldn't feel her legs. Her heart was thundering yet silent.
"Morningspot, is it following you?"
She remembered the feeling of her claws raking against the once-stomach of a cat she knew. She remembered the sensation of dry fur, then tissue-thin flesh, and then wet viscera drenched in mud.
The arteries were roots.
"No," her voice said feebly. "No. He's gone."
"He?....Oh…oh no, Morningspot, no, don't tell me…oh no…"
"...M-Morningspot…please, very quickly, are you hurt?"
Her right paw throbbed.
She could barely bring herself to shake her head. Who was asking? Who was speaking to her? Where was she?
Her adrenaline was absorbed into the wet grass. Her legs trembled. Her paws were red and black.
The memory of Talonkit's blue eyes were looking up at her in mirth as he roughhoused and pinned her down, declaring himself the winner.
The memory of Talonpaw looking stunned, then ecstatic as she successfully defeated him in training.
Talontooth laughing and jokingly rising up on his hind legs as though he was going to obnoxiously tackle her again like in their youth.
Her claws reached out to gouge his exposed stomach. Small vines thrashed and released Perchpaw, startled.
His eyes were holes. Roots writhed under the skin of his jaw. The muscles contorted and convulsed like tangled strings failing to be pulled by its puppeteer.
That was not Talontooth.
Morningspot sank to the floor. Her claws were unsheathed as she started hyperventilating. She raked her paws over her face. Mud and blood leaked down her forehead. She heard voices. Tom. Molly. Kit. Repeating her name. Morning. Morning. Morning.
The image of that thing was imprinted in her memory. Stiff, unnatural, apathetic to who it once was. It wore his skin.
It didn't even turn towards them when they saw him. He just kept screaming into nothing.
"HELP! HELP ME! SOMEBODY! HEEEEELP! SOMEBODY!"
The pain and terror in his voice did not match how he stood wooden and unflinching. His jaw moved mechanically. Like the camp gate opening and shutting under the rope pulleys.
That was not Talontooth.
She howled as every single memory she held of her best friend was tainted by those black eyes. His eyes were blue. His eyes were blue. All of her memories left them with gaping holes.
That was not Talontooth. That was NOT Talontooth.
She couldn't hear her thoughts above the wailing of her own screams.
---
Morningspot can't stop screaming. By the time she does, everyone is taught - or reminded - of the nightmare that are Fake Cats. Morningspot has nightmares for several days.
I'm struggling to get the next pages made the way I want them, so in the mean time I took a break to design two new kits that will appear in a few moons! Meet Rabbitkit and Deerkit, the brothers of all time <3
