Form it from ashes [WIP]

[Chapter I] - On the other side

It's been a few days since the group of strays had discovered the remains of FallenClan. They spent a good chunk of the week attempting to "repair" whatever they could. Most of it just included dusting out the ash stored dens and building up a small, pathetic pile of fresh kill beside the pond.

Since prey was extremely scarce to come by, they would resort to unknowingly trespassing on other clan territories. They would catch the faint scent of the clan cats but never be caught by anyone. Well, that was until early sunrise, Sage was deep within TundraClans' rocky territory.

He carefully traversed the uneven land, jumping from boulder to boulder. He landed on a rather mossy rock, and the moss came loose. He desperately clawed onto the rock, but without luck, he slipped and hit the ground, letting out a loud screech. Thankfully, he remained unharmed, just sore and winded.

That screech must've caught the attention of something, because not too long after, he caught the rancid scent of what he assumed to be clan cats. He dashed between the boulders and soon found a clearing, where twiggy trees stuck out from the ground. He glanced behind him, and saw cats galloping towards him, teeth bared.

Sage whipped around and arched his back, hissing in return. The cats formed a circle around him, they were twice his size, claws flexed, and eyes angrily glaring at the rogue. Sage flattened his ears, his tail lashing from side to side.

The largest cat out of the group, who was battle torn, took a step forward before speaking, in a low, demanding tone.

"Another trespasser." They snarled. "You know what happens to fleas like you?"

Before Sage had the chance to open his mouth, the large cat swiped at him. The talon like claws raked across his face; he stumbled back and collapsed onto the ground. Barely able to see, he felt another another blow to the side of him. He gritted his teeth.

The overpowering scent of his own blood made him gag violently. He felt as if this was the end of his life, and by StarClan, it sure was.

Another set of cries were heard not too far from where he'd lay. Unable to look around, because of the blood dripping from his face wounds, he took deep breathes, almost unable to bear the pain he was enduring. A bunch of screeching broke out and within minutes, the clearing fell silent.

He felt paws gently poke at his flank. He flinched and growled. The cat that poked him grabbed him by the neck and began to drag him into the unknown. Sage fell unconscious, the world around him was nothing more than a void.

It wasn't long before the world came back to him. He felt stiff, and the cuts were stinging. He lashed out at anything that would touch him. He felt terrified.

"Are loners always this cranky?" A cat mewed softly.

"Huh?!" He snapped, blankly looking around.

He felt another paw prod at one of his injuries. Instead of resisting, he laid still. "Where am I?" He whispered weakly.

"You're safe in MarshClan." The softly spoken cat meowed again.

"Am I some sort of prisoner?!" He started getting defensive again.

The she-cat chuckled. "No, no. Silly! You're currently in the Medicine cats den. I'm here to help you, not hurt you, or imprison you." She applied some dock leaves to the wound, and laced it with a layer of cobwebs.

Sage slightly relaxed, but was still rather uncomfortable being trapped in a place.

The two of them exchanged a few words before the conversation was broken by a small kit who found their way into the den. They squeaked, looking at the injured loner. They puffed up and spat at the loner, which was rather humorous to the both of them. Despite not being able to see during this time, the sounds the puny kit made, was enough to get him to crack a smile.