Mar 1, 2024
MOON 15
Short story featuring Quiver under the cut!
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MOON 15
Short story featuring Quiver under the cut!
"Did... did that really happen?" Quiver gaped as Splashstone finished his song. It all sounded so fantastical, the spirits of dead cats appearing and speaking to their living friends... well, now that she thought about it, it sounded a little spooky. But the way these TurtleClanners spoke of it, they hadn't seen it that way.
"It did," Dustjump, the old molly who had bound her broken paw, confirmed, her chin held high and pride glowing in her eyes. "We were all there, we all saw them that night."
Quiver crouched down, flattening her ears. "Are they... going to appear again?" She wasn't ready to meet any all-seeing ghosts. What if they didn't like her staying with TurtleClan while she healed? What if they found her as strange and off-putting as most cats seemed to? What if...? She felt her heart rate starting to pick up, heard her own blood rushing in her ears.
"No," Spindlefleck's tail draped over her shoulders pulled her out of her head more than her initial words. "Currentheart and Pearl said they couldn't just appear at will, and they selected Dustjump as their contact among us, besides."
"Oh." Quiver felt her heartbeat slow back to an even pulse at Spindlefleck's words, and Dustjump's nod of confirmation. That was... good. Comforting. Safe. She thought she could get used to the idea of ghosts watching her as long as she didn't have to see them. And everyone was so kind here, she didn't want to let some silly ghosts put her off... maybe it was alright for her to finally relax for a little while, to catch her breath.
working on a strelles short about Sandtail coming to ThunderClan
MOON 5
Current knew he was meant to be paying attention to Sand and Shell. He should be doing what Splash was doing, sitting with his tail curled over his paws, ears pricked, listening to the two older cats’ instructions. And yet, his gaze kept slipping away from them, down towards the tidepool at their paws. No way. Was that…?
He leaned down, ignoring Shell’s annoyed growl, to peer more closely at the water. He watched, trying to keep his eyes from popping out of his head as the creature became visible. It was! He’d been right! It was another one of those awful octopi. Disgusting, and yet mesmerizing.
“Splash!” He growled, jabbing the tall tom in the side. The older apprentice looked down, annoyance curling his lip until he saw what Current was gesturing at with his tail. “Look at it!”
Splash’s eyes went wide, his jaw dropping in that same mix of disgust and fascination that Current felt every time one of these things crossed his path.
“What is it?” Splash hissed softly, Sand and Shell both utterly forgotten in the thrill of seeing such a disgusting creature.
“It’s an octopus,” Current hissed back, “like I told you about last moon, remember?”
“I remember,” Splash breathed, “but I didn’t think it would look like that!”
“Isn’t it so gross?” Current growled, “you know, Sand told me that this thing used to be a cat, once. Then it got cursed for breaking its vows, and was turned into this thing.”
“No way!” Splash’s exclamation did away with the last remaining semblance of subtlety.
“Are you two even listening?” Shell growled, “you’re supposed to be apprentices, not kits on their first trip out of the nursery!”
But neither tom was listening to her rant, too consumed by their fascination with the slimy, pink beast.
“So Sand said that once, there was this ship’s cat…”
AN: And we're done with Moon 5! This might not be all that important to the story, but it was too great a moment for me not to include it.
MOON 11
Dustjump blinked slowly down at the body of the young cat before her. The sounds of her mourning companions filled her ears, mixing together into a crescendo of grief and loss. She’d swore to herself she would never lose another cat. Not after that night on the ship when they’d lost nearly everything. She’d fought with all she had in her to save Foam and Brokenmast, and when she’d succeeded it had felt good. Powerful. Like perhaps she could keep them all alive if she just worked hard enough. With Currentheart, she hadn’t even had the chance to try.
Tidechaser had strode into camp in the pouring rain, pelt plastered to his sides, the water making the huge tom look so much smaller than he usually did. Sand had been trailing behind him, tail dragging in the mud and head low, looking like he’d just experienced the wreck anew. Dustjump hadn’t even needed to see the bloodied ginger fur of the cat across Tidechaser’s shoulders to know that another tragedy had caught up to them at last. It had been something called a boar, Tidechaser had told them. They’d never ventured this close to the coast before, but now that one was here, they all needed to be more cautious. Dustjump had barely heard a word he said, too absorbed with the loss of the young, energetic tom.
For a while, it seemed like they could have made a life here. Had that been anything more than a grand illusion? There were no kits among them now. Many of the cats in their group were young, but in time, they would age and die as well, if disease or bloodshed or strange accidents like the one today didn’t take them first. And then everything they had built would be gone, nothing more than dust on the wind, with no-one left to remember that their paws had ever left prints on these dunes. The cats that had died on the ship had been the same. Her housefolk had been the same. They’d all been taken away, and when Dustjump was gone, everything she’d known about them would vanish, like they’d never even existed at all. It was a sad, bleak fate that they all shared. Dustjump wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so hopeless or alone, not even after the night of the wreck. What do we do now? If we’re all going to fade into nothing, why bother trying at all?
Dustjump felt a shifting under her feet and snatched her paw back with a hiss. She expected to see one of the little crabs that scurried across the beach without end. Annoying, painful, even, if they got you in the right place, but not particularly harmful. What she saw was too odd and dark to be a crab. She peered down into the sand, gazing deep into the creature's strange face and dark, shining eyes. She didn’t have long to look, though, because as soon as it had shaken itself free of the sand, it began pushing away with its strange, pawless limbs. Dustjump felt a spark of recognition. It was the flippers that gave it away. It was a turtle. She had seen a few in greenleaf up on the beaches, digging around in the sand. She hadn’t gotten close enough to see what they’d been doing then, but Dustjump supposed that the emergence of this strange, disproportionate little turtle indicated that they’d been kitting. Or whatever it was that turtles did. The little turtle finally disappeared over the rise of the dune, and Dustjump let her gaze linger where it had vanished. She wondered, vaguely, where it was going. Then she felt another nudge at her paw. Dustjump looked down to find the sand nearly churning beneath her paws as turtle after turtle fought its way free of the earth. How big are their litters, she thought in dismay. A few even emerged from under Currentheart’s body, and she could just make out her campmates murmuring to one another in confusion and discomfort.
There were so many of the creatures, coming out all over the place, scrambling in every direction. It felt almost disrespectful to Currentheart and the vigil they had been trying to hold. She was about to suggest moving their fallen friend when the little creatures, previously flailing about every which way in a chaotic display of confusion and fear, began to turn, one by one and in groups, all in the direction that the first turtle had vanished. Then they started pushing forward in a desperate struggle, as though something was calling them, guiding them…
Dustjump’s breath caught in her throat. The words of the legend Tidechaser had shared moons ago rang in her ears: “if ever you or your descendents are lost on the way to the Realm of Stars, me and my kin will seek you out…” Dustjump inhaled sharply as Tidechaser spoke the words she’d been thinking into existence once more. “...and guide you on your way.”
Dustjump didn’t give herself time to think or doubt. She heard the yowls of shock and question behind her, and realized that she was already on her paws, already running. She didn’t stop to explain, she couldn’t stop. Please understand, she implored them in her mind. Please follow.
Tidechaser must have taken off at the same moment she had, or heartbeats after, because he was beside her now, pulling in front of her. Oh no you don’t! She increased her pace, pushing faster, faster. She had to be there first. She didn’t know why she was so certain, she just knew. They set a brutal, paw-pounding pace over the dunes, kicking up sand in their wake. Up and down the dunes they went, following the trails of the tiny, dark turtles crawling towards the open sea. Dustjump’s jaws were wide now, her breathing heavy as her lungs ached with effort. When was the last time she’d run like this? The night of the wreck? No, she’d been too exhausted. Maybe never. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered, but not in the hopeless, soul-sucking sense she’d felt when she’d lost everything on that fateful night. Right here, right now, nothing else mattered, because this moment was so immense, so important that it swallowed everything else up. Her whole life, everything she’d ever known had been building to this moment.
They crested the rise of the last dune, looking down upon a beach alive with motion as hundreds of tiny turtles struggled towards a sea dancing with white starlight like it was their destiny. On another night, the site would have been breathtaking, but tonight Dustjump barely stopped to glance at it. She knew that her tiny companions would not mind. They were all striving towards the same vast ocean.
Dustjump reached the water heartbeats before Tidechaser did, both of them skidding to a stop on the wet sand, the gentle ebb and flow of the tide washing over their paws.The clouds had cleared, and the starlight was bright on the water now, nearly blinding in its brilliance. Dustjump took a deep breath and let her heart, not her mind, guide her.
“Currentheart, Pearl… I’m sorry it took me so long to understand. But I’m here now. And I’m ready to listen.”
The starlight on the water shifted, trembled, swirled, seemed to rise up out of the ocean to rest above it. And then they were before her. Dustjump gasped, and heard Tidechaser’s sharp inhale of breath beside her. They were beautiful. The memory of the dull, glassy-eyed corpse amidst the dunes above was obliterated by this vibrant young cat that seemed to radiate life and strength. Eyes shining with white fire, stars glittering in his pelt, he dipped his head to her. The cat beside him was no less resplendent, her ginger pelt glossy and thick with its own stars, a serene expression resting gently on her face. She swept her tail around her paws and spoke. “We are pleased to greet you, Dustjump and Tidechaser. We have been waiting.” Pearl’s voice was still her own, but there was a strength to it, a resonance that had not been present in life. Dustjump bowed her head before them, struck momentarily speechless by their majesty.
Thankfully, Tidechaser voiced the words that she could not seem to formulate. “How… how is this possible? The legend said… but I never suspected…”
“All legends have a kernel of truth somewhere,” Currentheart responded, his voice echoing with light and life, “this one had more than most.”
Pearl’s starry gaze fixed on something behind Dustjump. The others must have followed us, after all. She turned to face her companions to a chorus of sound. Some exclamations were surprised, some confused, a few scared. Shell had clearly led the group, standing stock still a few paces ahead of them now, her eyes blown wide. “Currentheart… Pearl… I… Dustjump, what is going on?”
Dustjump opened her jaws to reply, but her words were drowned out by a howl so filled with grief and love and longing that it took her breath away. Sand barreled past Shell, past Dustjump and Tidechaser to collapse before the starry figure of Currentheart in a bundle of trembling cream colored fur. “Currentheart, Currentheart I’m so sorry, it should’ve been me, you shouldn’t have pushed me out of the way!”
“The choice was mine to make, my teacher, my friend,” Currentheart’s words were gentle, but firm. “I would make the same choice if I could go back to that moment, knowing what would happen.”
“It isn’t fair,” Sand moaned, “that I should live only by your loss. How am I supposed to live with that?”
“You do not live by my loss. You live by my gift. That which was freely given, out of love. Do not waste the life I saved by bemoaning the other paths fate might have taken. Honor that gift by living your life fully, by being true to yourself, by caring for those around you.”
Dustjump stood beside Sand now, brushing her tail over his spine in a soothing gesture. The trembling stopped, and he drew in a long, shaky breath. “I’ll try,” he promised. “I’ll be the best cat I can be, and I’ll make you proud.”
“I’ll be watching over you, always.” Currentheart purred.
Dustjump hated to break in, but Tidechaser seemed to have no such compunctions. “Is that how this works then? When cats die they watch over us from the Realm of Stars, just like in the stories? And we can just talk to them whenever we want?” Pearl considered an answer, but Tidechaser didn’t give her time to formulate one, his tone growing suspicious, hostile. “I… I tried to reach you, once. When Wavehopper died. I sat for hours, staring at the sea night after night, talking to the air, hoping, praying that I would reach her. Why didn’t it work then, if it works now? Where is she?”
Oh, Tidechaser. Dustjump wondered if she would ever know everything there was to this cat she considered her friend.
Pearl sighed, her tail tip twitching. “There are a number of reasons you couldn’t reach her. It would take all night to explain all of them. But the biggest part of it is community. What you all have built here on this beach, with cats supporting one another, learning and growing and sharing experiences, is something very special. You are all part of something greater than yourselves, a great web of connections. You each have a unique bond to every other cat here, you each know small details about one another that perhaps no other cat knows. And most importantly, you share memories of one another. That kind of closeness–even to cats you lack a deep personal connection with–it doesn’t just vanish when a cat leaves the mortal realm to walk the stars. That thread of the web may be gone, but the threads that surrounded it, the memories that those still living share with the dead, those things linger, and it is that which keeps a spirit connected to the world of the living.”
“So?” Tidechaser growled, “I haven’t forgotten Wavehopper. I think about her every day. Are you saying I didn’t love her enough to keep her here?”
“Tidechaser,” Dustjump hissed a warning, but Pearl gestured with her tail to show that she took no offense.
“Tidechaser, which tree is less likely to fall? One with a single thick root, or one with many branching roots?
“One with branching roots,” Tidechaser growled,” but I don’t see why–”
“Connections between the living and dead work the same way,” Currentheart interrupted, his voice deep but gentle. “Many connections anchor a cat more closely to the living world than a single one, no matter how deep it runs.”
Tidechaser fell silent, his shoulders slumping.
“That does not mean your sister is lost, Tidechaser,” Pearl added gently. “She waits for you in our realm–the Realm of the Stars. You will see her again when you join us.”
Tidechaser nodded silently, his tirade at an end.
“So you’re saying that… because we all knew you two, and because we all know each other, we’re…linked?” Dustjump felt callus, moving the conversation away from Tidechaser’s sister, but she was desperate to understand what the starry cats were saying. Pearl nodded, and Dustjump continued. “And cats outside of this… this Clan of ours still walk the stars, they just aren’t tethered to our world?”
“Clan,” Pearl purred, “that is the perfect name for it. Other cats have formed Clans, in other places, other times. This will be the first Clan to live along these shores, though. Yes, Dustjump, you understand my meaning very well. I was right to choose you. When the cats of your living Clan die, young or old, they will come and join our group in the stars–StarClan.”
“StarClan…” Dustjump breathed. The word felt powerful, felt right. Then the rest of Pearl’s words caught up to her. “Wait–you said you chose me? For what?”
“To be the first intermediary between us and your living Clan,” Pearl announced proudly. “It is a duty commonly given to a Clan’s Healer–though there have been other titles, should you prefer them– Star Seeker, Seer, Medicine Cat…”
“Healer!” Dustjump blurted out. “I like Healer. It’s what I am, it’s what I do.” The other names also made her head spin with the implications, but she didn’t want to say that out loud. A Healer… she could be a Healer. “But why do you need an intermediary? You’ve appeared to us all tonight, why not continue to do that?”
Pearl shook her head sadly. “Tonight is a rare night– the sky is clear, the moon is high, and we have only recently passed the Longest Night, and our realms are still close to one another. It is easier to touch your realm now than it otherwise will be. Even so, to appear to so many cats outside of the Longest Night is not an easy task. It is far easier to find a single cat to speak to–a cat who holds dear the memories of those who have passed, who is willing to follow her heart and listen to the whispers on the wind. When we wish to speak, we will most frequently speak with you. In dreams and in signs we will most often reach you, but if you need us, search for us in the reflections of the stars on the water, and we will come.”
Dustjump dipped her head, honored by their faith in her. “I will be ready to listen when you call,” she promised humbly.
Pearl turned her blazing gaze away from Dustjump, focusing on Shell, who sat up straighter. “And you, dear Shell… oh, what can I even say? I am so proud of you.” There was a fondness in Pearl’s voice that had been present for no other cat, and Dustjump wondered at the bond they shared. “You have been the North Star to the survivors, guiding them through the wreck and helping them build a new life here. Shell is no more, for I name you Shellstar, guiding light of your Clan. Think carefully on the cat you wish to lead the Clan next, and make them your deputy, so that even after you are gone, the Clan will not be without a guiding star.”
“Shellstar,” Dustjump breathed her friend’s new name like a prayer, and swept through the rest of the survivors like a gentle breeze.
“Shellstar, Shellstar, Shellstar…”
“Cats of the shipwreck, survivors, warriors,” Pearl raised her voice to address the rest of the group as the whispers of Shellstar’s new name faded out. “We led you here tonight to show you that what is lost is never truly gone, so long as you keep faith and hold it in your hearts. You are more than you were when you arrived on this beach– you are a Clan, and a Clan supports its members through all manner of hardship. But each Clan must have a name that defines it–a name that binds its members together through meaning and memory. By what name do you wish to be called?”
Unlike when Currentheart had been named, there was no discussion amongst the onlookers, no pondering of options. This name would define not a single cat, but every cat among them, as well as their descendents far into the future. To put forth an option that you lacked absolute conviction in was unthinkable. You either knew the Clan’s name, or you didn’t.
And Dustjump knew.
“TurtleClan!” The word ripped free of her chest like a bird taking flight, like something she’d held inside her heart for moons finally breaking free. “We are TurtleClan, always striving towards the sea and the stars, honoring those who came before us with our every breath.”
Silence.
And then cheers. “TurtleClan! TurtleClan! TurtleClan! TURTLECLAN!”
Currentheart raised his tail for silence, and the cheering slowly faded out. It was Pearl who spoke. “Cats of TurtleClan, we implore you to live truly, to care for one another, and to act with honor until it is your time to join us in StarClan. We are with you always, through your pains and glories, through high and low, times both harsh and kind. Never forget where you came from, or all that you have gone through to get there.”
It was a farewell, and they all knew it. On the distant horizon, Dustjump could make out the slightest lightening of the sky. The night was coming to a close, and the stars would soon fade into dawn. “Go in peace,” Dustjump whispered. “I will be ready to receive your messages, when you are ready to share them.”
The StarClan cat’s eyes sparkled with joy and fulfillment as the silver stars in their pelts winked out one by one, and their forms faded into mist. The cats remained on the shoreline long after the spirits had faded, staring out across the ocean as the sun rose for the first time on TurtleClan.
Additional Information:
Former Apprentice: Currentheart
MOON 13
“I smell blood!” Splashstone winced at the reaction his warning yielded in his two companions. Spindlefleck and Sandtail both froze, eyes blown wide. He’d only meant to alert them, not dredge up dark memories.
“We’re not far from the Thunderpath,” Spindlefleck murmured, voice low. “Do you think..?” She trailed off into a tense silence, and Splashstone knew she was remembering the kittypet she’d found on the edge of the stinking black stone during her apprentice days.
“Relax, Spindle,” Splashstone did his best to keep his tone light but gentle. Carefree. “The blood-scent isn’t thick enough for that. It’s probably just a loner with a cut.”
Spindlefleck’s fur started to flatten, but Sandtail remained on guard, and Splashstone felt his heart break all over again for the cream colored tom. Even with Currentheart’s assurance that his death had not been Sandtail’s fault, he clearly still held himself at least partially responsible for the tragedy. “We still need to be careful,” Sandtail warned. “We have no idea what could have injured them. We’ll proceed slowly, and I’ll take the lead.”
Splashstone dipped his head to the deputy’s command, setting off after the tom at a creeping pace. They could’ve safely gone faster with Splashstone in the lead–he knew he had the best nose on the patrol–but this wasn’t the time or place to challenge orders, so he slunk along silently after Sandtail.
The patrol finally broke through the forest’s undergrowth to an open stretch of grass and mud in a dip beside the Thunderpath. As Splashstone felt his paws squish into the deep mud, he let out a quiet hiss of annoyance. No wonder he’d never been this way before–no cat in their right mind would ever come this way. So what was a wanderer doing here?
The blood scent led them to a stinking stone opening beneath the Thunderpath. Splashstone could just make out a cream colored ball of fur just inside the entrance of the hole–the source of the blood scent. Sandtail slowed their approach even further, and finally bade them wait with a flick of his tail when they were ten fox lengths away. Splashstone crouched down with an internal groan, his paws sinking deeper into the muddy earth as Sandtail approached the ball of fur alone.
“Hello?” He called cautiously.
The pile of fur erupted into motion, a skinny cream colored molly leaping to her paws and scrambling a few steps deeper into the tunnel. “Please don’t kill me!” She wailed, “I’m leaving, I really am, I just needed to rest a moment, please give me another chance to go and you’ll never see me again! I-I swear it!”
“What?” Sandtail sputtered. Caution morphed into confusion, then concern in the face of the molly’s abject terror.
Splashstone and Spindlefleck were making their way to their deputy’s side before he’d even finished signaling to them that it was safe. “We’re not going to hurt you,” Spindlefleck murmured, “we want to help. That injury to your paw looks painful.”
“I-I” The molly gulped in a few deep breaths, her trembling easing just a little. “You mean… you’re not with them, then?”
“We’re not sure what you mean,” Spindlefleck soothed, “we’ve been living here on the beach for a few seasons now, but we’ve never attacked or driven away any cat, and we certainly wouldn’t hurt you. Can you tell us your name? And explain what happened to you?”
The instructions seemed to be soothing the jumpy molly, her fur was starting to flatten, and her eyes were no longer quite so wide. “My name is Quiver,” she began.
Quiver, Splashstone eyed the way that her three good legs were still shaking just a little. It suits her.
“I lived in a driftwood pile much farther up the beach,” Quiver continued, “I kept to myself, mostly, hunting along the shoreline in the tidepools. Th-then, a little over a quarter moon ago, this group of cats showed up. They were very strange, told me that I needed to leave–that–that I didn’t deserve to set foot on the sand, and that if I didn’t go, they were going to make me leave. They said three sunrises to find somewhere in the forest before they would remove me from the beach themselves. Now, I thought that was just ridiculous, I mean, I’ve never seen them around these parts before, I figured that they were just talking big, the way some cats do, and that so long as I cleared out for a few days they’d lose interest and move on, so I went to stay up in the cliff caves–you know the ones, lots of little nooks and tunnels?”
“We know it,” Sandtail confirmed, his tone just barely impatient. The cliff caves were past TurtleClan’s hunting grounds, but Splashstone had been up that way himself a pawful of times before they’d established boundaries, looking for other survivors. “Please, continue,” Sandtail prompted after the silence had stretched a few more heartbeats.
“Yes! Right! Well, they found me just a day later. Said they’d given me plenty of warning, and that now I needed to be taught a-a lesson, so one of them took my foreleg and–and–” Quiver broke off into a fit of trembling and panting. She didn’t need to continue–the rest of the story was obvious.
“We’re going to take you back to our camp,” Sandtail said in a low, steady voice. “We have a cat there who can heal–a cat who can help you.” The deputy turned his striking green gaze to Splashstone. “Splash, could you run ahead and tell Dustjump to prepare for an injury? Tell her it looks serious, but that the patient doesn’t seem to be in immediate danger of death,” he dropped his voice to barely a whisper on the last word, but Splashstone still Quiver’s ear twitch nervously. “Spindlefleck and I will help her back.”
“Of course,” Splashstone murmured, feeling nothing but pity for the injured molly. “I’ll make sure Dustjump is ready for her.”
MOON 11
“It’s going to rain soon.” Tidechaser had been staring at the tiny patches of sky visible between the branches of the dense trees.
“Again?” Currentheart complained, tail high to show he was being lighthearted about it. “As though we haven’t had enough of that this past half-moon.”
Sand had to agree with his former apprentice. In the time since Spindlefleck’s rite of passage, the weather had turned. Dustjump, Brokenmast and Shell had all commented on how shockingly mild leafbare had been, with only a pawful of freezes and no snow whatsoever. Sand couldn’t really comment on that–it was only his second real leafbare–he’d been born during leafbare, but the only one he remembered had been spent first inside his twoleg’s den, and then on the ship with the others before the storm. Tidechaser hadn’t seemed shocked by the weather though, commenting that it had been only slightly milder than normal. He had, however, warned that as they approached Newleaf, the rains would start to pick up, and on that front, the tides seemed eager to deliver. While it might not be cold enough to freeze, there was still a chill in the air, and patrolling in cold rain was no cat’s idea of fun.
“If we move quickly, we might be back at camp before the rain hits,” Sand suggested.
“Yes please!” Currentheart exclaimed, picking up his pace. “We can’t be far from the last scent marker now, but it’s so hard to tell with this weather. Everything just smells like wet dirt.”
“We’re close,” Tidechaser confirmed, taking the lead. Sand let him move ahead without contest. He might be Shell’s second, but Tidechaser had a knack for picking up on the faintest of scents. Besides, if he led, it gave Sand an opportunity to catch up with Currentheart. He matched his pace to the younger tom’s strolling beside him in comfortable silence for a time before speaking. “So,” he started. “I’ve noticed Spindlefleck has moved her nest nearer to yours.” Currentheart stumbled, and Sand let out an amused purr. “So there is something between you two!”
“No!” Currentheart denied. “I mean, maybe… I don’t know. She’s nice, and I like her as a friend but… I’m not really looking for a mate right now, you know? I’ve still got a lot of growing to do before I’m ready to make a decision like that, and so does she.”
“That’s a very mature perspective to take,” Sand meowed. “But I hope she knows that’s how you feel about it.”
“I need to talk to her soon,” Currentheart admitted. “But it’s hard to find the right thing to say. I don’t want to reject her outright, but I don’t want to lead her on, either.”
“You should tell her what you told me,” Sand suggested. “Be upfront. Honest. How she reacts is up to her, and it will probably give you your first real idea of whether or not she’s the kind of cat who would be a good match for you, someday.”
“That’s good advice,” Currentheart purred, pressing his flank against Sand’s. “All these moons later, and you’re still teaching me new things.”
“Only now you’re not required to listen to me,” Sand teased.
Currentheart responded with a playful shove, but before they could continue the conversation, Tidechaser broke in.
“Sand, Currentheart, you should come take a look at this.”
Sand pricked his ears, focusing his attention back on the patrol. Tidechaser sounded cautious, though not afraid. He whisked aside his tail to reveal a pile of prey bones. Sand bent down to sniff at them. There was the faintest scent of cat clinging to the bones, but it didn’t smell like anyone he knew. “Someone has been here recently. Not today, but maybe yesterday or the day before?”
There were a few cats that hunted on and around the area the survivors had marked out–it wasn’t something Shell was particularly concerned about, as the boundaries were more to set limits on where the cats in their group ranged than to keep anyone out, but she did like to stay aware of who was hanging about.
“It’s definitely recent,” Tidechaser agreed, “but that’s not why I called you over. Look at this.” Tidechaser kicked a sodden scrap of fur that Sand hadn’t initially noticed. It was a partially eaten bird, rapidly turning to crowfood.
“Ugh! They didn’t even bury it?” Currentheart meowed, his voice thick with disgust.
“Maybe they had to leave it,” Sand murmured.
“That’s the part that worries me. A catch this big? No cat around these parts would just leave it like this. They’d bring it with them, or bury it if they couldn’t.”
“So why didn’t they?” Currentheart wondered.
“Let’s spread out and look for signs,” Sand suggested. “Maybe they were just spooked by a loud noise, or maybe it was something more. If a threat has moved in here, we need to know about it.”
The three toms slowly worked their way out in different directions from the abandoned prey, combing over every inch of ground. It had rained hard the night before, so any tracks were long gone, but there might be other signs. Before long, Sand came upon a small tree with deep gouges in its thin bark. Sand narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to try and pick up a scent. There was a touch of something strange… but what…?
Sand closed his jaws, swallowing before opening his mouth again to call Tidechaser over. As he did, a thick musky scent slammed the roof of his mouth, nearly choking him with its strength. What was that? Instinct kicked in, sending his mind into overdrive as he tried to match the smell to a creature, or to at least come up with something analogous in his scent-memory, something that would tell him if he should flee or stand his ground. Nothing. It bore no resemblance to fox or dog scent, but it was far too heady to be prey. Uncertainty gave way to fear, and suddenly his mind was telling him to–
“Sand, MOVE!” Tidechaser’s yowl was louder, sharper than he’d ever heard before, but the warning came too late.
The undergrowth trembled, and a beast emerged from the brush, huge and solid and dark, covered with bristling hairs. Everything seemed suddenly vivid to Sand as the world slowed around him in the face of this new, foreign terror. He could see each thick, black hair on the creature, could see the gleam of saliva in its pink maw, opened wide in an enraged squeal to reveal what looked like two long, gleaming fangs on either side of its jaw.
It felt like he should have enough time to get out of the way. He didn’t. He was frozen, forced to watch as the rest of the world trickled by him at a snail’s pace. Sand knew he was directly in its path, knew it was going to gore him with those sharp tusks, knew that he was going to die right here, right now, if he didn’t spring out of the way. Why can’t I move? Why aren’t my muscles responding?
The beast bore down on him while his instincts screamed at him to run, to flee, to hide, all to no avail. Sand stared up into the gaping maw of his own demise, watching death inch closer and closer. The world caught up to Sand’s racing mind and he was tumbling away, pelt skidding across the damp earth. There was a moment of confusion. He was still alive… wasn’t he? Had the beast turned away at the last moment? No, something had definitely hit him, but the blow had come from the side, not from the front. Something had pushed him out of the way at the last second. Someone had… saved him? Realization crashed into Sand with the force of the storm that had slammed their ship up against the rocks all those moons ago, changing their lives forever. Sand shot to his feet, shaking his head to clear the mud from his eyes.
Bright ginger fur against the damp forest floor. Red blood seeping into the mud. No.
Sand was dimly aware of Tidechaser howling with rage, leaping up and on top of the beast that had attacked them, clinging to its back as it snorted with rage. But those things might have been happening in another world for all the difference it made to him. All of his attention was on the figure collapsed in the mud. He had to be okay. He isn’t moving. Sand crossed the distance between them in less than a heartbeat, skidding to a stop beside Currentheart’s side. Blood was spilling out of a deep gash on his side, staining his white patches red, pooling on the ground around him before soaking into the earth. There was so much blood. “No, no no!” This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t.
Currentheart jerked, coughed, tilted his head. He cracked open a single amber eye, and Sand dropped to his belly beside the young cat who he had watched grow from a spoiled, selfish kit into an ally, a friend, a warrior. “You’re alright,” he managed to choke out. “You’re going to be just fine, Current. We’ll get you back to Dustjump and she’ll fix you up, she’ll heal you like she healed Brokenmast and Foam. You’re alright. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.” Sand knew he was babbling, repeating the same words again and again. It didn’t matter. He had to say it, had to speak the words into reality, make them true.
Sand fell silent as Currentheart drew in a slow, ragged breath. “Hope I… lived up t’… the name…”
Currentheart gave one final, painful wheeze and fell still, his head lolling to the side. Sand wailed. He wailed and wailed, his jaws still open long after his cry had petered out.
The clouds broke open, and the promised rain began to fall.
A/N: Sorry guys :(
MOON 16