Post by Dragon on Dec 19, 2009 2:42:43 GMT -5
Crushed
By: Owlstar
Seedpelt stared mutely at nothing, her life was crashing down. War seemed to be bubbling in her Clan, every morning Willowstar strengthened their angry against SerpentClan just over stolen prey. It was cold here. Her pelt did little to nothing when the winds stole their way through their misty hollow. How long had it been? The dreaded evening had come into her dreams and each time it repeated him, her love, walking away from her with the coldness of the fresh frost. She wished she could cry, she wished she could leave, but she could not. The MistClan warrior had grown subtly rounder and she often noticed the stares from her Healer. She saw them and turned away.
She buried her head in her paws. Her amber eyes were tightly shut at the embarrassment she had gone through. She let out a shuddering breath and felt the burning in her eyes despite trying to avoid those horrid tears. She let out a sniff and shook her head. Suddenly, she scented her brother coming closer to her. His paw steps were light and weary. She opened her eyes to slits to look up at her brother, who was also the deputy of MistClan. He looked tired at the constant preparation for this war. But somehow he had taken the time to look into his little sister. He crouched in front of her; his brown eyes were calm and listening. "Seedpelt... is something wrong? You seem different, and... Your scents changed." His whiskers twitched in curiosity.
Dare do she tell her brother? She let out a hesitant sigh and sank her claws into the cool ground. Thoughts raced through her mind, would Molefur respond the same way Ratwhisker did and just walk away with such disdain? She didn’t want to go through that pain again but she felt like she could trust her own brother to confide this information in. She raised her head, trying to drain the pools of misery in her glossy amber eyes. The queen gave a loud swallow and heaved herself into a sitting position. She could feel the kits in her belly and she brought her legs closer to her. Her eyes were glued to the floor, “Come closer, Molefur,” she whispered in a hollow voice. “You must not repeat anything you are about to hear.” Seedpelt’s voice was so cold and distraught he could do nothing but lean closer to her with a concerned face for the reason his sister was acting in such an odd way.
As he came closer, her glossy eyes seemed to be distant and forlorn. Though a fire of love burned in them like a fire that would not die, she wouldn’t let that affection be broken. He had started this flame, had he acted in no way attracted to her this wouldn’t have happened. But Ratwhisker approached her first, and he broke it as well. “What is it, Seedpelt? Tell me… it’s safe with me.” She immediately told her entire tale, from the first time she saw Ratwhisker and to the last time she saw him on that lonely river bed. Seedpelt saw each expression change, but she couldn’t stop even when the expression turned to confusion or anger. She couldn’t keep it bottled up forever it was going to drive her mad. Her story led through the secret passage of love between them, and how it seemed so true, real, and that clans didn’t matter at all. They were the same, lovers of the river. Finally, her tale winded down to those last mournful moments but she had left out one single detail from that story. The detail that made it all spiral down. “Oh, Molefur, I’m expecting kits.”
* * *
Ratwhisker frowned at the sky; it was slate gray and dark as a shadow cast across a slab of thick stone. It was a foreboding and fearful sight to see just before a war was to begin. He shook his head slowly, padding through the camp checking how the others were working. The prey pile was stocked to the brim and the barrier was being fortified greatly with fresh thorns and bracken. It was nothing he would want to face if he didn’t know his way around the forest. Padding across the Healer’s den he dipped his head to Lunarshine and continued on schedule until he passed by the nursery his mind taken on a wild ride to the night before. He blinked rapidly trying not to see the face of Seedpelt that clouded his vision. He continued to walk on until he ran right into Badgerstar, he stumbled forward, barely catching himself before he fell onto the ground.
Badgestar tripped backwards, flustered with his thick fur puffed up against the oncoming cold and wind. He seemed tense and frustrated with something, more than usual that is, and he was not happy to bump into by his own deputy. He pinned his ears backwards crossly, and growled for a moment. “What’s gotten into you?” he snapped, his dark green eyes blazing fiercely, he hated being touched in general. He probably felt insulted, “You shouldn’t be wondering in a haze like this! You haven’t had enough sleep, go! Do something important!” Ratwhisker quickly moved out his leader’s way and dipped his head in apology to Badgerstar.
The deputy twirled around, unhappy at his leader’s scorn. He trotted toward the warriors den, truly thinking of getting some sleep. But he somehow couldn’t make himself go into the den just yet. He wasn’t tired, but he couldn’t stop the images from racing through his mind without stop. Why had he been so cold toward her? He felt like an awful, truly horrid, like a rotting badger. Ratwhisker shook his head and turned on his heels and started marching toward camp entrance, standing as guards were Rockclaw and Hawkstrike. They looked very serious and up to their task at hand, he rolled his eyes at them, and started to walk by them, when Hawkstrike put a paw in front of him. Her eyes were surprisingly hard, if not a little nervous about things, “You shouldn’t leave camp right now, Ratwhisker.” She warned in a dark tone, as if the sky was going to fall down around them. “MistClan is bound to attack any time now.”
The clever tom whisked around her, and looked at her from the other side. “I’m just going for a short walk; don’t cough up a fur ball.” He replied smoothly, turning to leave the camp just for some peace and quiet but Rockclaw saw through his brother’s clever disguise. He murmured something to Hawkstrike and padded after Ratwhisker. His paw steps were light on the ground as he followed close behind without sharing a single word. The two brothers fell into step and continued to walk on. Withering ferns stroked their flanks, the ground rain dampened and soggy with a light layer of fallen leaves. The cool breeze of leaf-bare sent goose bumps down Ratwhisker’s limbs. As they came out of ear shot of any one in camp, Rockclaw jumped in front of Ratwhisker, brushing the ferns aside.
“What’s wrong, Ratwhisker?” Rockclaw asked, his gray-blue eyes shadowed and concerned for his brother. His rounded ears were cocked forward in curiosity; the black spots around his eyes accented his serious expression. Ratwhisker shook his head, his amber eyes glancing around the shadowed forest silently. He strode forward and twitched his tail for him to follow. They slid through the forest like an oiled machine, smooth and perfectly, leaping over fallen trees and brushing past ferns with the greatest of ease. They crossed their forest quickly and quietly. The experienced warriors began to slow, as the forested ground slowly melted into damp ground. Their heavy paws sank into the ground, as they panted softly and steadily came to a halt. The forest was practically gone now; it had been replaced by rushes and reeds. Ratwhisker bowed his head, his yellow eyes closed tightly.
“I’ve done something horrible, Rockclaw. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Ratwhisker whispered, not daring to look up at his brother.
* * *
A silence went between Seedpelt and her brother; he stared at her with wide brown eyes. With a shake of his head, he crouched down near her, eyes worried and confused. “Is this a bad thing or a good thing for us? Who is the father?” Molefur brushed his muzzle against her cheek, wiping away a stray tear that was making its way through her fur. Seedpelt let out a pathetic sniffle, and whimpered softly but made no effort to respond to her brother’s question. How could she say these kits were half-clan? Her brother was so honorable; her own mother was the clan leader. It would be utter disrespect to admit that she had fallen for the affections of a SerpentClan cat that they were going to war with. How? How could she? Seedpelt buried her face deeper into her paws, falling into despair. Molefur gave her a gentle prod with his nose, he was not giving up. “Who is the father?”
Seedpelt breathed heavily, rubbing her black paw across her eye. She didn’t like admitting she still loved Ratwhisker inside herself. With a quiet murmur of consent she looked at him with large, sad amber eyes. “Can you keep it a secret?” He gave a wary, curt not. She stood slowly, her long whiskers rigid and tense. With measured steps, she came nose to nose with him. Her eyes were fogging over slightly, but a sliver of focus remained. “His name is Ratwhisker.” Instant recognition came to Molefur’s eyes at the name of the rival deputy they were soon to battle with. “He is deputy of SerpentClan, and I love him.” After the first words, her eyes cleared up and her voice went from quivering to a steady stream of words.
The reaction from Molefur was a mixture of shock and confusion, but it switched to frustration to sympathy. It all wound up to an anti-climatic sigh that barely made a sound in the cold air. He had opened his mouth to respond when Willowstar’s bellow blew them away, they had hardly noticed the speech she had just made. Most of the clan was mulling beneath the tall tree stump. The two siblings whirled around to gaze at the cats, Willowstar seemed to be just ending an awesome speech, and the cats below were yowling lustily with her. They were startled by the sudden change and horrified when Willowstar began roaring out the names of cats that were to plunge into battle. “Dear river spirits…” Seedpelt whispered, tears filling her eyes, as the names of the fighters were announced.
“…Plunging into battle with honor in their hearts will be, Molefur, Seedpelt, Moonfire, Wildvision, Wavecrest, and Solarpaw!” Willowstar howled to the crowd, she reared onto her hind paws and launched herself from the treestump. The chosen cats followed behind her, screeching and tearing at the turf. Molefur and Seedpelt shared a terrified glance, but Molefur’s eyes were beginning to look stronger.
“We have to go, Seedpelt, I will run beside you and we will try and do what we can.” He whispered encouragingly. But his words didn’t make it to his sister, her thoughts and feelings were paralyzed. Her body felt numb and hollow, all she could do was follow her brother and try to keep up with the maddened charge. Seedpelt’s eyes were cold and sad and she couldn’t say a word or even raise her voice in protest.
* * *
Rockclaw looked over at Ratwhisker, his blue eyes concerned. He stood beside his brother, dark foreboding wavering between them. The burly warrior pressed a sympathetic nose to his brother’s pelt. The moments passed by achingly slow, and finally the Bengal tom lifted his head. His ambers eyes were watery and distressed, as if he was regretting something deep within himself.
“Rockclaw, I fell in love with a MistClan she-cat, Seedpelt…” He started slowly, eyes once again downcast on the moist ground. He was shuffling his paws, and Rockclaw came closer an intensity and interest in his eyes. Ratwhisker stepped away from his brother and gazed at the place across the river where him and Seedpelt had met just nights ago, it seemed like an eternity ago. He held back a sigh that was welling within him. “And I found out something about her, and I left her sitting on that bank. And now, I’m regretting every word that I said to her.” His words were quiet, meaningful and smothered in grief.
His brother came towards him without any words and gazed across the bank. His eyes were narrowed slightly, but not in scorn, but in deep thought. “It was wrong to meet with another clan…” he warned, thought he carried nothing but caring in his deep voice, “It is another thing entirely to love them.” Rockclaw touched the tip of his tail to Ratwhisker’s flank, sharing a moment of silence. “What are you going to do now?” He questioned in a monotone, revealing nothing.
Ratwhisker looked up suddenly, surprised by the obvious question. He rolled his shoulders and turned around, staring his brother straight in the eye. There was a confident look in his amber eyes. They shined in the dull sunlight, his jaw clenched suddenly and a force consumed his being. “I’m… I’m going to get her back, I love her and there’s nothing else to be said about it.”
His brother looked like he was about to respond when a screech split the air and the thunder of paws cascaded upon the ground. The yowls turned to words, that didn’t help the situation very much. The crash of their onslaught jerked the two cats into a rigid, terrified position. If this charge was meant to strike fear in the opponent’s heart, they had succeeded.
“Attack!” screeched the cats, “Blood! Our pride!” They were coming wildly closer.
* * *
The thrum of paws had sent Seedpelt into a numb place, devoid of thought or feeling. She didn’t yowl, she didn’t leap or kick like the other over-excited warriors. She just ran, ran with her clan and tried to ignore the subtle terror welling up in her belly. At one point during the run, she felt the soft touch of her brother’s nose. It had caused her to glance at him, and she could see the concern in his eyes. He seemed worried about her, it was clear, that was probably due to the fact that her face had turned blank and distant.
She turned away from him, and was suddenly surprised how quickly her Clan had made it through their territory. The river was coming; it pulsed like a heart and frothed madly. But she didn’t fear it, until she lifted her amber eyes about the river. She caught sight of Ratwhisker, staring bemused as her Clan ran as a pack of savages.
* * *
Ratwhisker wasn’t sure what to do. He looked wildly back and forth; he knew that he should’ve leaped into action. It was so quick now; the ground seemed to shake from the sheer voice of the rivals charge. And finally, MistClan broke their cover. They exploded from the willows and charged toward him. His eyes whipped over the cats, Willowstar was in front, in full battle face. Molefur, her deputy and son, trailing faithfully behind and, he could hardly believe it, Seedpelt was striding beside him. But he lost a moment of time in confusion, she looked distraught.
The two lovers locked eyes, and he let out a ragged breath of ecstatic terror. Somehow he tore his eyes away from as Rockclaw nearly bowled him over. He was wide-eyed and fearful, he wanted to leave.
With a quick inhale, Ratwhisker cried, “We’re under attack!” Rockclaw easily bolted away, screeching the words over and over again into the wood. It took Ratwhisker a moment more; he hesitated on the bank, watching mutely as the first row of MistClan warriors plunged into the ferocious river.
* * *
Seedpelt stared longingly after him, pausing before getting into the water. It reminded her of the night before. As she swam easily across, she wished Ratwhisker had stayed, but she knew he had to run from her Clan. With a silent sigh, she wished her life wasn’t crashing down.
By: Owlstar
Seedpelt stared mutely at nothing, her life was crashing down. War seemed to be bubbling in her Clan, every morning Willowstar strengthened their angry against SerpentClan just over stolen prey. It was cold here. Her pelt did little to nothing when the winds stole their way through their misty hollow. How long had it been? The dreaded evening had come into her dreams and each time it repeated him, her love, walking away from her with the coldness of the fresh frost. She wished she could cry, she wished she could leave, but she could not. The MistClan warrior had grown subtly rounder and she often noticed the stares from her Healer. She saw them and turned away.
She buried her head in her paws. Her amber eyes were tightly shut at the embarrassment she had gone through. She let out a shuddering breath and felt the burning in her eyes despite trying to avoid those horrid tears. She let out a sniff and shook her head. Suddenly, she scented her brother coming closer to her. His paw steps were light and weary. She opened her eyes to slits to look up at her brother, who was also the deputy of MistClan. He looked tired at the constant preparation for this war. But somehow he had taken the time to look into his little sister. He crouched in front of her; his brown eyes were calm and listening. "Seedpelt... is something wrong? You seem different, and... Your scents changed." His whiskers twitched in curiosity.
Dare do she tell her brother? She let out a hesitant sigh and sank her claws into the cool ground. Thoughts raced through her mind, would Molefur respond the same way Ratwhisker did and just walk away with such disdain? She didn’t want to go through that pain again but she felt like she could trust her own brother to confide this information in. She raised her head, trying to drain the pools of misery in her glossy amber eyes. The queen gave a loud swallow and heaved herself into a sitting position. She could feel the kits in her belly and she brought her legs closer to her. Her eyes were glued to the floor, “Come closer, Molefur,” she whispered in a hollow voice. “You must not repeat anything you are about to hear.” Seedpelt’s voice was so cold and distraught he could do nothing but lean closer to her with a concerned face for the reason his sister was acting in such an odd way.
As he came closer, her glossy eyes seemed to be distant and forlorn. Though a fire of love burned in them like a fire that would not die, she wouldn’t let that affection be broken. He had started this flame, had he acted in no way attracted to her this wouldn’t have happened. But Ratwhisker approached her first, and he broke it as well. “What is it, Seedpelt? Tell me… it’s safe with me.” She immediately told her entire tale, from the first time she saw Ratwhisker and to the last time she saw him on that lonely river bed. Seedpelt saw each expression change, but she couldn’t stop even when the expression turned to confusion or anger. She couldn’t keep it bottled up forever it was going to drive her mad. Her story led through the secret passage of love between them, and how it seemed so true, real, and that clans didn’t matter at all. They were the same, lovers of the river. Finally, her tale winded down to those last mournful moments but she had left out one single detail from that story. The detail that made it all spiral down. “Oh, Molefur, I’m expecting kits.”
* * *
Ratwhisker frowned at the sky; it was slate gray and dark as a shadow cast across a slab of thick stone. It was a foreboding and fearful sight to see just before a war was to begin. He shook his head slowly, padding through the camp checking how the others were working. The prey pile was stocked to the brim and the barrier was being fortified greatly with fresh thorns and bracken. It was nothing he would want to face if he didn’t know his way around the forest. Padding across the Healer’s den he dipped his head to Lunarshine and continued on schedule until he passed by the nursery his mind taken on a wild ride to the night before. He blinked rapidly trying not to see the face of Seedpelt that clouded his vision. He continued to walk on until he ran right into Badgerstar, he stumbled forward, barely catching himself before he fell onto the ground.
Badgestar tripped backwards, flustered with his thick fur puffed up against the oncoming cold and wind. He seemed tense and frustrated with something, more than usual that is, and he was not happy to bump into by his own deputy. He pinned his ears backwards crossly, and growled for a moment. “What’s gotten into you?” he snapped, his dark green eyes blazing fiercely, he hated being touched in general. He probably felt insulted, “You shouldn’t be wondering in a haze like this! You haven’t had enough sleep, go! Do something important!” Ratwhisker quickly moved out his leader’s way and dipped his head in apology to Badgerstar.
The deputy twirled around, unhappy at his leader’s scorn. He trotted toward the warriors den, truly thinking of getting some sleep. But he somehow couldn’t make himself go into the den just yet. He wasn’t tired, but he couldn’t stop the images from racing through his mind without stop. Why had he been so cold toward her? He felt like an awful, truly horrid, like a rotting badger. Ratwhisker shook his head and turned on his heels and started marching toward camp entrance, standing as guards were Rockclaw and Hawkstrike. They looked very serious and up to their task at hand, he rolled his eyes at them, and started to walk by them, when Hawkstrike put a paw in front of him. Her eyes were surprisingly hard, if not a little nervous about things, “You shouldn’t leave camp right now, Ratwhisker.” She warned in a dark tone, as if the sky was going to fall down around them. “MistClan is bound to attack any time now.”
The clever tom whisked around her, and looked at her from the other side. “I’m just going for a short walk; don’t cough up a fur ball.” He replied smoothly, turning to leave the camp just for some peace and quiet but Rockclaw saw through his brother’s clever disguise. He murmured something to Hawkstrike and padded after Ratwhisker. His paw steps were light on the ground as he followed close behind without sharing a single word. The two brothers fell into step and continued to walk on. Withering ferns stroked their flanks, the ground rain dampened and soggy with a light layer of fallen leaves. The cool breeze of leaf-bare sent goose bumps down Ratwhisker’s limbs. As they came out of ear shot of any one in camp, Rockclaw jumped in front of Ratwhisker, brushing the ferns aside.
“What’s wrong, Ratwhisker?” Rockclaw asked, his gray-blue eyes shadowed and concerned for his brother. His rounded ears were cocked forward in curiosity; the black spots around his eyes accented his serious expression. Ratwhisker shook his head, his amber eyes glancing around the shadowed forest silently. He strode forward and twitched his tail for him to follow. They slid through the forest like an oiled machine, smooth and perfectly, leaping over fallen trees and brushing past ferns with the greatest of ease. They crossed their forest quickly and quietly. The experienced warriors began to slow, as the forested ground slowly melted into damp ground. Their heavy paws sank into the ground, as they panted softly and steadily came to a halt. The forest was practically gone now; it had been replaced by rushes and reeds. Ratwhisker bowed his head, his yellow eyes closed tightly.
“I’ve done something horrible, Rockclaw. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Ratwhisker whispered, not daring to look up at his brother.
* * *
A silence went between Seedpelt and her brother; he stared at her with wide brown eyes. With a shake of his head, he crouched down near her, eyes worried and confused. “Is this a bad thing or a good thing for us? Who is the father?” Molefur brushed his muzzle against her cheek, wiping away a stray tear that was making its way through her fur. Seedpelt let out a pathetic sniffle, and whimpered softly but made no effort to respond to her brother’s question. How could she say these kits were half-clan? Her brother was so honorable; her own mother was the clan leader. It would be utter disrespect to admit that she had fallen for the affections of a SerpentClan cat that they were going to war with. How? How could she? Seedpelt buried her face deeper into her paws, falling into despair. Molefur gave her a gentle prod with his nose, he was not giving up. “Who is the father?”
Seedpelt breathed heavily, rubbing her black paw across her eye. She didn’t like admitting she still loved Ratwhisker inside herself. With a quiet murmur of consent she looked at him with large, sad amber eyes. “Can you keep it a secret?” He gave a wary, curt not. She stood slowly, her long whiskers rigid and tense. With measured steps, she came nose to nose with him. Her eyes were fogging over slightly, but a sliver of focus remained. “His name is Ratwhisker.” Instant recognition came to Molefur’s eyes at the name of the rival deputy they were soon to battle with. “He is deputy of SerpentClan, and I love him.” After the first words, her eyes cleared up and her voice went from quivering to a steady stream of words.
The reaction from Molefur was a mixture of shock and confusion, but it switched to frustration to sympathy. It all wound up to an anti-climatic sigh that barely made a sound in the cold air. He had opened his mouth to respond when Willowstar’s bellow blew them away, they had hardly noticed the speech she had just made. Most of the clan was mulling beneath the tall tree stump. The two siblings whirled around to gaze at the cats, Willowstar seemed to be just ending an awesome speech, and the cats below were yowling lustily with her. They were startled by the sudden change and horrified when Willowstar began roaring out the names of cats that were to plunge into battle. “Dear river spirits…” Seedpelt whispered, tears filling her eyes, as the names of the fighters were announced.
“…Plunging into battle with honor in their hearts will be, Molefur, Seedpelt, Moonfire, Wildvision, Wavecrest, and Solarpaw!” Willowstar howled to the crowd, she reared onto her hind paws and launched herself from the treestump. The chosen cats followed behind her, screeching and tearing at the turf. Molefur and Seedpelt shared a terrified glance, but Molefur’s eyes were beginning to look stronger.
“We have to go, Seedpelt, I will run beside you and we will try and do what we can.” He whispered encouragingly. But his words didn’t make it to his sister, her thoughts and feelings were paralyzed. Her body felt numb and hollow, all she could do was follow her brother and try to keep up with the maddened charge. Seedpelt’s eyes were cold and sad and she couldn’t say a word or even raise her voice in protest.
* * *
Rockclaw looked over at Ratwhisker, his blue eyes concerned. He stood beside his brother, dark foreboding wavering between them. The burly warrior pressed a sympathetic nose to his brother’s pelt. The moments passed by achingly slow, and finally the Bengal tom lifted his head. His ambers eyes were watery and distressed, as if he was regretting something deep within himself.
“Rockclaw, I fell in love with a MistClan she-cat, Seedpelt…” He started slowly, eyes once again downcast on the moist ground. He was shuffling his paws, and Rockclaw came closer an intensity and interest in his eyes. Ratwhisker stepped away from his brother and gazed at the place across the river where him and Seedpelt had met just nights ago, it seemed like an eternity ago. He held back a sigh that was welling within him. “And I found out something about her, and I left her sitting on that bank. And now, I’m regretting every word that I said to her.” His words were quiet, meaningful and smothered in grief.
His brother came towards him without any words and gazed across the bank. His eyes were narrowed slightly, but not in scorn, but in deep thought. “It was wrong to meet with another clan…” he warned, thought he carried nothing but caring in his deep voice, “It is another thing entirely to love them.” Rockclaw touched the tip of his tail to Ratwhisker’s flank, sharing a moment of silence. “What are you going to do now?” He questioned in a monotone, revealing nothing.
Ratwhisker looked up suddenly, surprised by the obvious question. He rolled his shoulders and turned around, staring his brother straight in the eye. There was a confident look in his amber eyes. They shined in the dull sunlight, his jaw clenched suddenly and a force consumed his being. “I’m… I’m going to get her back, I love her and there’s nothing else to be said about it.”
His brother looked like he was about to respond when a screech split the air and the thunder of paws cascaded upon the ground. The yowls turned to words, that didn’t help the situation very much. The crash of their onslaught jerked the two cats into a rigid, terrified position. If this charge was meant to strike fear in the opponent’s heart, they had succeeded.
“Attack!” screeched the cats, “Blood! Our pride!” They were coming wildly closer.
* * *
The thrum of paws had sent Seedpelt into a numb place, devoid of thought or feeling. She didn’t yowl, she didn’t leap or kick like the other over-excited warriors. She just ran, ran with her clan and tried to ignore the subtle terror welling up in her belly. At one point during the run, she felt the soft touch of her brother’s nose. It had caused her to glance at him, and she could see the concern in his eyes. He seemed worried about her, it was clear, that was probably due to the fact that her face had turned blank and distant.
She turned away from him, and was suddenly surprised how quickly her Clan had made it through their territory. The river was coming; it pulsed like a heart and frothed madly. But she didn’t fear it, until she lifted her amber eyes about the river. She caught sight of Ratwhisker, staring bemused as her Clan ran as a pack of savages.
* * *
Ratwhisker wasn’t sure what to do. He looked wildly back and forth; he knew that he should’ve leaped into action. It was so quick now; the ground seemed to shake from the sheer voice of the rivals charge. And finally, MistClan broke their cover. They exploded from the willows and charged toward him. His eyes whipped over the cats, Willowstar was in front, in full battle face. Molefur, her deputy and son, trailing faithfully behind and, he could hardly believe it, Seedpelt was striding beside him. But he lost a moment of time in confusion, she looked distraught.
The two lovers locked eyes, and he let out a ragged breath of ecstatic terror. Somehow he tore his eyes away from as Rockclaw nearly bowled him over. He was wide-eyed and fearful, he wanted to leave.
With a quick inhale, Ratwhisker cried, “We’re under attack!” Rockclaw easily bolted away, screeching the words over and over again into the wood. It took Ratwhisker a moment more; he hesitated on the bank, watching mutely as the first row of MistClan warriors plunged into the ferocious river.
* * *
Seedpelt stared longingly after him, pausing before getting into the water. It reminded her of the night before. As she swam easily across, she wished Ratwhisker had stayed, but she knew he had to run from her Clan. With a silent sigh, she wished her life wasn’t crashing down.
