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.
