#gnatpaw

[discombobulated-hodgepodge]

I wanted to draw kittens. Baby Gnat and Termite

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Four: Chapter One

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Mistface had never been so eager to do anything in his life as he was now. By the look of it, the same could be said for everyone else.

Even Beetlefoot was relatively cheery. He had been the first to suggest the route the group would take: to avoid potential arresters, they would travel east towards the marshlands and make a wide berth around the valley, climbing along the mountainside and emerging north on the land by the path the Plage took in their travels to the coast. The idea was warmly received, brightening Beetlefoot’s dour face up and, if Mistface wasn’t mistaken, adding a bit of a strut to his usual choppy trot.

Greyleaf and Flyfang were at the lead – they knew this section of the Territory the best (Mistface declining any authority) and, working together, could navigate the streams and patches of land in the south quickly enough that the party could get a sizable lead before anyone would find out where they were going.

“I’m surprised we lived so close to each other and never met,” Mistface remarked, several paces behind the two.

“Well, you know how reclusive the Marish are,” Flyfang said over her shoulder. “It would've been a miracle if you even caught a glance of me from a distance.”

“Then there’s more land back there than I thought.” Mistface’s front foot kicked aimlessly at an acorn shell. “We heard tell there was a lake no one would pass around.”

“There is,” Flyfang said. “It’s just further south. And no, none of us have gone past it. I don’t think there’s much there to explore, honestly. Just a long stretch of flat grassland-“ She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Well, you can see a mountain range in the distance, but it’s so far off, why bother?”

“S’pose that’s fair,” Mistface replied. He kept his second thought to himself: if this quest failed, the Clan may need to discover what that mountain range was like.

Chatter fluttered back and forth around the party, mostly anecdotes about the marshes and how life was living in the south part of the Territory. Mistface hardly paid any attention to it; he just padded along, grateful for the sunlight when they stepped out of the border of the oak forest and into grassland again.

“Hang on.” Darkpelt suddenly stopped. “Everyone, noses in the air.”

The rest of the cats looked at each other, puzzled, but did as she said.

“I don’t smell anything,” Laurelclaw said.

“Then look around.” Darkpelt’s ears slid back. “I don’t think we’re alone anymore.”

“I'll check,” Littlepaw said, and hurried off around a bend of oaks before anyone could say otherwise. She was back in a few moments, tail bushy in alarm.

“There’s a group of cats entering the forest,” she hissed. “I just barely saw them go through the trees. They’re all big.”

“Then we need to move,” Redheart said. “Flyfang, can we head south more? Will the marsh hide us?”

Flyfang looked at Greyleaf like he had an answer. “I mean- yeah, the grass is tall, and the smell’s thick, but… that’s Marish land.”

“Would there be anyone out hunting around this time?” Redheart persisted. “Do we have a chance of getting through unseen?”

Flyfang squinted in thought, then turned to Redheart. “The part we’d go through is usually poor pickings in the morning. But we have to be quick.”

“Let’s not waste time, then.” Redheart gave everyone a curt nod and started off at a loping jog, Flyfang and Greyleaf at her side. The party went after them at just slow enough of a pace that Darkpelt could keep up with no guidance, but fast enough to outrun the trackers.

The grass met them quickly, swallowing them all in narrow green walls. They went single file now, Mistface at the rear behind Darkpelt. He glanced back at the forest, half-expecting their scents to be caught instantly and for the Fleet cats to be upon them.

“I’ll tell you what,” Darkpelt said, “it’d be nice if one of you southern belles would show me how to walk without getting hit in the face by these stalks.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to do,” Mistface said. “You just get used to it.”

Darkpelt harrumphed, but kept trotting.

The grass darkened and turned coarse in a minute or two, and the wind grew stronger the farther they went south. Eventually, Mistface’s head broke free through the surface of the grass and he could see the troop up ahead of him – just in time, because he almost walked off of a small ledge and fell into water. He jumped before he could, and landed on a patch of ground. Darkpelt, by the looks of it, had almost fallen in herself, and, unusually, her tail was twitching. Perhaps the grass had gotten to her.

“Let’s be quick,” Flyfang said, leaping past another stream. “The scent here can protect us, but the Marish-“

“Um…” Laurelclaw raised a white paw. “Flyfang? Over there.”

Everyone stopped and looked to the right, where Laurelclaw was pointing his paw now. As if to spite them, there was a patrol of cats heading their way. At the front was a grey-brown-and-white older molly, eyes narrowed and face set in a scowl. Behind her were other bristling patched cats, and two dark-colored apprentices. Mistface glanced at Flyfang and blinked; she was frozen where she stood.

“Flyfang!” cried one of the apprentices, a spitting image of the dark grey warrior. She ran forward, followed by the black one, but the head of the patrol almost flung her away with a back foot.

“Your nerve is impressive,” she said in a voice like she was trying to be stoic and was having a hard time of it. “Especially bringing strangers.”

The renegades bunched together without a word. Laurelclaw stood beside Flyfang, almost as stiff as she was.

“You’re okay!” the black apprentice exclaimed, delight in her voice. “They said you were going to die!”

She might just, soon enough, thought Mistface, but he said nothing. He could gather that these were Flyfang’s sisters, which meant it wasn’t his time to talk.

Flyfang swallowed hard and took an unsteady step forward. “Hi, girls.”

Again, the apprentices tried to push past the adults, but were forced back. The four other cats spread out a little in a wall to block them, tails lashing.

“Risking our safety for nothing,” the molly growled. “We searched for you when you ran away, and we gave you up for dead.”

“And you might as well be,” a ginger-patched tom said angrily. “How dare you come back! With outsiders, no less!”

This woke Flyfang up. She bristled and sank her claws into the soft ground. “Let me see them, Minnownose.”

The molly narrowed her eyes and took a step closer, voice steely. “You lost all rights to visiting when you betrayed us. Get out.”

“I’m planning to,” Flyfang snapped. “But I’m not going without talking to my sisters. I might not get the chance again.”

“You certainly won’t.” Minnownose stood straight and glared down her nose at Flyfang. “We know you’re coming back for them soon, and we’ll be very prepared to make you regret that decision. You don’t have any control over them, remember-“

Laurelclaw suddenly strode forward and shouldered Minnownose so hard that she stumbled sideways and fell with a grunt of shock. The ginger-patched tom growled and started to approach his deputy, but Laurelclaw turned his head and glared down at him with a fierceness Mistface had not seen before. The tom flinched away, and the other family members stepped back.

That made things very clear for the Marish – they all fell silent and cowed, the apprentices’ way open. Laurelclaw looked at Flyfang and jerked his head in the direction of her sisters. As stunned as the rest of the renegades, Flyfang hesitated on her first few steps, giving Laurelclaw a look of awe. By the shine in her sisters’ eyes as they went to meet her, they were equally impressed.

“Gnatpaw and Mosquitopaw,” Flyfang murmured, pressing her muzzle to one head, and then the other. “You’re getting big already. You were supposed to wait, you brats.”

The dark grey one (likely Gnatpaw) rubbed her head on Flyfang’s shoulder. “We tried to, I swear.”

“You got us the best mentors,” the black one said, almost pushing Flyfang by rubbing against her. “They’re nice to us. Minnownose isn’t, though.”

“If I make it back,” Flyfang said, “I’ll rectify that.”

Gnatpaw tilted her head. “Where are you going? Aren’t you here for us?”

“Don’t leave again!” Mosquitopaw almost wailed. “You just came home!”

Flyfang looked back at her friends. Mistface’s eyes drifted downwards, unwilling to tell the twins anything.

“I can’t explain to you what I’m doing right now,” she said softly to her sisters. “It's just too dangerous to bring you with me today. But I’m going to do everything in my power to come get you. I promise."

The apprentices looked at each other despairingly.

“Minnownose isn’t going to stop me.” Flyfang coldly glared at the older molly, who had gotten up and backed away from Laurelclaw. “Nothing is, if I can help it. Right now, though… I’m doing something very important.”

“Life-changing, really,” Darkpelt said. “You’ll know if we succeeded.”

Gnatpaw seemed to finally notice the rest of the travelers. She squinted at them suspiciously. “You’re taking another apprentice, wherever you’re going.”

Littlepaw waved her tail nervously. “I’m… I’m your sister’s apprentice, actually.”

Mosquitopaw gasped and looked at her sister with (hopefully fake) outrage. “You better not have replaced us!”

“No one’s replacing you.” Flyfang gently touched her nose to Mosquitopaw’s head. “If I make it through this, you’ll be out of here in no time. I promise.”

“Make it through what?” Minnownose asked testily.

Flyfang didn’t acknowledge her. She just touched her nose to Gnatpaw’s head now. “You’ll understand in time. I’ll tell you all about it when I come back for you.”

Mistface caught Redheart’s eye and the two shared a knowing, glum look. They didn’t know or like the chances of returning for these two.

The apprentices were still unhappy, but they seemed to understand. Both of them leaned forward to bump their heads against their sister's shoulders. Flyfang’s chin lowered right between their ears and she sighed.

“I love you two,” she murmured. “Be the worst Marish you can be.”

“We will,” Mosquitopaw said.

“Even worse than you,” Gnatpaw added.

Flyfang lingered for a moment, then slowly stepped back. Her jaw was set as she turned around and trudged back to the rest of her crew, tail low. Laurelclaw nodded to the apprentices and followed her.

“Let’s move,” Redheart said quietly.

Flyfang said nothing, just returned to the front of the group with Greyleaf and led them away from the Marish patrol, who all watched them go. No one in either group spoke a word.

When they were far enough that the Marish were only dots of color, Mistface looked up at Laurelclaw.

“I will be tanned,” he said. “Didn’t think you had it in you to be a brute.”

Laurelclaw glanced back, worried. “I didn’t mean to push her over that hard. I hope I didn’t scare them too badly-“

Flyfang threw her head back and laughed so loud that the cats close to her jumped. “You totally did! Don’t be sorry for it! That was awesome!”

“I cannot believe I didn’t get to witness that with my own eyes,” Darkpelt said. “All I heard was that broad start up with nonsense and then fall over. What I’d pay to see it myself!”

Laurelclaw laughed bashfully. “I mean, you should get to talk to your sisters, if we’re doing this. It’s only fair.”

“I owe you big time for that,” Flyfang said, tapping him with her tail. “And if we make it, I’m definitely getting them out of there.”

“We’ll be here to help you,” Redheart said. “I will, at least.”

A ripple of confirmations and support went through the group of eight. Flyfang looked back at them with a broad smile and glimmering eyes.

“Thanks, guys,” she said.

[calitraditionalism]

Arc One: Chapter Eight

Far in the southern marshes of the Territory, someone else was watching the clouds roll in from the north with intense interest.

Flyfang, a sturdily-built ticked tabby, kneaded at the soft, grassy ground below her feet. Even at this distance, she could smell the rain coming towards her. It wasn’t too far away; it’d take maybe an hour before the heavy stuff hit where she was now. By then, the sun would fully be up, but she figured these stormclouds were thick enough that it’d be dim anyways. The lack of sunlight to give reflections on the water would encourage the rest of the family to head towards the lake on the border, where there were bigger fish to catch.

Nighttime would have been preferable, but Flyfang wasn’t willing to wait until then. Who knew how long it would rain for? She was only waiting for the ceremony to be over to-

“There you are!”

Flyfang jumped and looked back with alarm, which immediately went away as she recognized her little sisters standing side by side behind her. She turned fully to them with an automatic grin.

“And there you are,” she said.

One of the kits, Gnatkit, was the spitting image of her: a stout and rounded grey molly with flecked markings all over her back.  The other, Mosquitokit, was black with white feet and a white marking on her chest, and her tail was waving back and forth in delight.

“How do we look?” asked Gnatkit. She stood like a warrior on watch, but Flyfang could only see a kitten fresh out of the nursery.

“You look ready to get yourselves some mentors.” Flyfang bent down a little to meet their eye levels and winked. “Don’t worry, I made sure you’ll have the best ones in the family.”

“And in the Territory?” asked Mosquitokit, leaning forward far enough to almost fall onto her face. Her wide eyes faintly reflected the clouds that were now behind Flyfang.

“Weeellll…” Flyfang looked around and leaned in as well, whispering conspiratorially, “Don’t tell your mentors, but I think there might be some better ones out in the valley.”

Mosquitokit gasped and swatted at Flyfang’s nose. “Don’t say that!”

“You didn’t do a very good job finding us mentors, then,” Gnatkit said, and jerked away from another swipe aimed at her shoulder.

“Ravenleap and Troutpath are good!” Flyfang protested, rubbing her nose as if she’d been actually struck. “They’ll be fine for now.”

At this, her sisters went quiet and looked at each other with concern. They knew better than to continue down the “for now” conversation thread, but that unspoken topic floated over all of them in place of the dark grey clouds.

Flyfang quickly recovered with another grin. “Now, let’s go back. The first one there gets to push the other two into the water!”

Her sisters squawked as Flyfang leapt over their heads and started off at a jog. She heard them scrambling to follow her and picked up her pace just enough to keep them running without pushing each other out of the way.

The three of them jumped over the small criss-crossing streams that threaded their home without a second thought, throwing joking insults back and forth as they went. As the grass started to flatten and expose the other family members of the Marish that were all heading the same way, Gnatkit and Mosquitokit had caught up to Flyfang and were trying to slow her down by grabbing her tail between their teeth or attacking her paws to make her stumble. When they crossed the last stream and entered the wide island that was the Marish’s current camp, Flyfang let herself topple over and cry out as her sisters wrestled with her legs and ears.

Flyfang knew they were disturbing the peace of the camp, just as she knew without looking that the deputy was standing nearby and watching her disdainfully. Minnownose, an elderly grey-brown-and-white molly, had gotten everyone else to obediently turn over the responsibility of raising their kits to the heads of the Marish. The kits’ father, Swiftdust, had already agreed to let her make all decisions regarding Gnatkit and Mosquitokit’s lives. The family had always been overly submissive in all respects – no fighting, no telling hurtful truths, just listen to your seniors no matter how insane they were – and it was considered natural that the “entire family” should decide the fate of the kits living there.

Which was why they all hated Flyfang so much.

Of course, no one would admit they hated her. That wasn’t the Marish way. All but Minnownose had given up on trying to get Flyfang to “calm down” and “just obey her elders”. Now they just ignored her when she walked past or gave her looks when she started wrestling with the twins. But Flyfang knew they hated her regardless. The Marish were secretive, but they weren’t as subtle as they thought they were.

It was why Flyfang was preparing an escape once her sisters’ apprentice ceremony was complete, something that was almost as bad as murder in the Marish. She’d done a lot of persuading and pleading to get the most open-minded members of the family to agree to request her sisters as apprentices, so they could be well cared for in her absence. Flyfang couldn’t take them now, with them just being six months old – apprentices had to be nine months before they could travel safely and without anyone protesting for their health. She planned to come back and sneak them off once they’d learned how to hunt and fight and were more developed and able to walk long distances. She just couldn’t stay here any longer. This was killing her.

“Alright, alright!” she cried, laughing. “Let me up!”

“Only if you promise not to throw us in the water!” Mosquitokit punctuated this with a bite on Flyfang’s cheek.

It didn’t hurt too badly, but Flyfang yelped anyway. “I won’t! I won’t! Someone help!”

“You’re a grown warrior,” Minnownose cut in, her cold voice slicing through the humid air. “Should you be acting like this and encouraging your sisters to play rough before their ceremony?”

Immediately, the kits let go of Flyfang and backed away nervously. Flyfang rolled her eyes, sighed as loudly as she could, and got to her feet.

“I don’t know,” she said to Minnownose, “you tell me. You’re fond of that, aren’t you?”

Minnownose did not rise to her bait. Instead, she made a beckoning motion with her tail. “I’d like to talk to you.”

Flyfang looked back at her sisters and made a face. The two of them fought off their giggles and sat down, grooming themselves to look busy. Flyfang gently tapped both of their heads with her tail and walked silently to the deputy, her smile replaced with narrowed eyes.

Minnownose led her a small distance away, just far enough that they could not be heard by the rest of the family. She turned around, sat, and curled her tail around her paws. Flyfang stayed standing, silently daring her to order her to sit too.

She didn’t. Instead she mirrored Flyfang’s narrowed eyes. “Your sisters are to be apprenticed today. Do you know the mentors we’ve chosen?”

“We”, sure, Flyfang thought nastily. Always “we” in this family, isn’t it? “Ravenleap and Troutpath. They told-“

“They talked with me and requested to become mentors,” Minnownose interrupted, colder than before. “They did their best to make it sound like it was their idea. However, I’m not stupid. I know you put them up to it.”

Flyfang said nothing.

“I humored you this one last time,” Minnownose went on. “You have your little victory over me this one last time. After today, you’ve lost all right to tell me what to do with the kits and apprentices of this family.”

Flyfang’s fur bristled all over her body. Her claws unsheathed of their own accord as she tried to remind herself that it didn’t matter because she was leaving anyway. It didn’t help any; she still wanted nothing more than to claw the contempt off of the old bat’s face.

“That’s all.” Minnownose stood up and walked past Flyfang. “The ceremony’s starting now. Come.”

Flyfang vaguely wondered how life would be once she didn’t have anyone she hated in her face all the time as she followed the deputy.

The clouds were getting closer already, almost covering the sun. That was nice.

Flyfang could barely enjoy the ceremony. She watched her sisters become apprentices and greet their mentors without really absorbing it, chanted their names without thought. Her enthusiasm was there, but she was hardly thinking. The family ended the ceremony with Minnownose announcing a hunting party and leading almost all of them south, where the streams got thicker and thicker until they pooled into a lake. The only ones left in the camp were Flyfang, her sisters and their mentors.

“We’re going to show them around the marsh,” Troutpath said to Flyfang. “Would you like to come with us?”

Flyfang shook her head. “Not right now. I want to see how the hunting is up towards the valley. Best fish are at the lake, I know, but we’ve been having some luck with the smaller schools, so.”

Troutpath nodded. “We can meet you up there later?”

A light in her old mentor’s eyes told her that he had a suspicion that she was up to something, but, like always, he had her back and said nothing. She simply smiled and returned the nod before speaking to her sisters, who had run up to her.

“I’ll see you guys later,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “You’ll be alright without me for a bit, I’m sure.”

They were smart enough to not give her away. Instead, they both pressed their noses into her shoulders.

“I love you very much,” she said, low enough for only them to hear. “And I’ll be back, I promise.”

Mosquitopaw nodded and murmured, “We’ll be the worst apprentices.”

“Even worse than you,” Gnatpaw agreed in a whisper.

“Atta girls.” Flyfang gave them a lick on the ear each and stepped back, waving her tail casually and raising her voice. “Hopefully fishing’s good upriver. Have fun on the tour, you two.”

Neither of the apprentices spoke. They just nodded and turned away slowly, following their mentors as they left camp. Flyfang noticed with some small mix of pride and grief that they didn’t look back, just stayed cool and natural on their departure.

Flyfang waited until they were far enough away to not hear her footsteps before starting off at a half-run north. The rain started up, gently tapping her along her spine and shoulders. She picked up her pace just as the rain did the same. She sent a silent thanks to the rain’s aspect that she was struggling to see far ahead of herself and that her paws were already soaked – it’d be too difficult for the Marish to track her down and force her to return in weather like this.

The streams merged and grew wider, and within a few minutes they united into one river, just as the grass became softer and brighter in color. Flyfang grinned, genuinely and widely, and broke into a full sprint, not caring where she was going, just that the Marish were now behind her.