First her mom dies. Things only go downhill from there. Alongside raising her new siblings, Junco must navigate the now dangerous waters of life as a Wanderer. Death and feelings are the worst kind of problems.
Oriole was always very cheerful, and...
Disgraced and kicked out. I've done nothing wrong. They say its terrible, call it murder. I know for a fact that Oriole was talking about how the afterlife is nice, better than living anyway. She was always weak, she wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway. I've done her a favor. She can see Branch again. Did him a favor too.
Static continued placing one paw in front of the other, ignoring the blood dripping from her sides, from her back, her face, her belly. She stopped for a moment.
Sitting down, she licked her paws and dragged it across her muzzle. Blood was running into her eyes and mouth from the scratches Junco had placed across her face. Junco, she'll pay for this. I already killed her mate, I can kill her too. That might be too good for her though. Getting to see her mate again, being in the afterlife, that's not much of a punishment. Llano dying, that's something. She would be miserable, another family member dead. I wonder how much of a chance he has, I did a lot of damage. I wonder how I can ensure his demise. Estacado next, I'll kill everyone she loves. They can all be happy in the afterlife, without her. Everything would have been perfect for me. Without her. Why couldn't I have been an only child?
Static turned her head to face the way she had come. The burning of her wounds was beginning to overwhelm her. Too bad Snapdragon won't heal a traitor.
Not that I would accept her help anyway.
She got to her feet again and swayed as darkness clouded her vision. She fought to remain conscious, just for another moment. To remain conscious for as long as possible.
The constant oozing of her wounds filled the air with a horrid stench. Her paws grew sticky, picking up leaves and grass as she walked. Static couldn't focus on picking them off, she could only focus on walking.
Then she couldn't walk anymore.
...
"She's waking up," came a voice.
"I can tell, Runar," said another mew, higher pitched than the first.
Static blinked open her eyes. Two cats stood over her, a tall reddish-brown tom and a smaller, ginger tabby she-cat. She still laid where she had fallen, but now her wounds had been covered in cobwebs and herbs.
"So, mysterious, dying stranger, what's your deal?" the she-cat asked.
"I uh, was attacked," Static responded.
"Woah really? Couldn't tell."
"Hey! What's your problem?" No need for her to be snarky.
The tom, Static assumed he was Runar, narrowed his eyes, "I don't think you're in much of a position to be short with us. We could easily kill you right now."
"Okay, okay, chill. If you were just going to kill me, why would you treat my wounds?" I definitely would have died if it weren't for them.
"Simple, now you owe us," the she-cat responded, "You owe the whole of The Conspiracy. My name's Drama, and that's Runar."
The Conspiracy? Is that like the Wanderers? Like, another group of cats? Conspiracy has a bit of a darker tone... I like it.
"So, what's The Conspiracy? And what do you want?"
"Our group, which you will soon meet. And I'm not yet sure what we will take from you," Runar answered.
"That doesn't really answer my–" Static stopped when met with a glare.
I suppose I could use a new group, it would be easier to reign terror over the Wanderers if I have backers. We'll have to see about these cats.
Drama looked her up and down. "Do you think you could follow us?"
Determined not to show any more weakness, Static nodded.
"Ready to meet The Conspiracy?" Drama asked, her sea green eyes gleaming.
Again, Static nodded.
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