The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

60. Parallels

     Palemist did not sleep well. He twisted and turned in his blanket nest, kicking out with his hind legs. He dreamt of rogues surrounding him, baring sharp teeth and raking their claws against the earth. He could hear the voices of his Clanmates around him and huddled to the ground. The voices came from the rogues. Their pelts changed. His Clan was descending upon him. 

     "Traitor!" Came a screech, and Palemist's was tackled to the ground. He felt warm, sticky blood seep through his fur as fangs ripped into his throat. He was lifted and shaken, then dropped to the forest floor. A pair of amber eyes glared at him. 

     Scorchwing. 
      

     Palemist gasped and buried his claws into the nest, looking around at the darkness. He found nothing. No blood was soaking into his pelt. No Clanmates were nearby. They're not my Clanmates, he insisted to himself. They're not my Clanmates. I have no Clan. 

     But he had Mellow and Cotton. 

     Five days had passed, although they felt like five seasons, but the two kittypets softened the blow. Even Cotton helped, acting grumpy but still keeping company. Palemist had managed a few conversations with her, at least. 

     "I never liked forest cats," Cotton had sneered.  

     "Why?" Asked Palemist, tilting his head. 

     Cotton's fur began to bristle. "They took my best friend from me." She fluffed up her pelt for a moment before calming and giving her shoulder a lick. "But you don't seem so bad. 

     Palemist felt sympathy toward the she-cat. He knew what it was like to lose friends to strange cats. To lose himself to them. 

     He thought of Scorchwing now. He stood up for me when they exiled me. He would never hurt me. Palemist took a few deep breaths to steady himself. I can't stay in this closed up space. He promptly crawled out and gave his pelt a shake, looking to the sky. A full moon glowed above, taunting Palemist. There's a gathering tonight. I bet Scorchwing is there. And Spottedmoss. Palemist felt a pang of longing in his chest. I hope she's well. 

     A soft mew came from behind. "I thought you'd never wake up." Mellow sat nearby. "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" 

     "There's a gathering tonight," Palemist echoed. When Mellow cocked his head to the side, searching for more, Palemist continued. "During full moons, all six Clans gather together to report what's going on in their territories. They offer information and the leaders make decisions. It's a time of peace. A truce." 

     "I bet there are a lot of cats," Mellow said. "Are there ever fights?"
 
     "Arguments, but nothing physical," explained Palemist. "If it gets too bad, StarClan sends clouds to cover the moon. So we know they're unhappy." 

     Mellow blinked. "Who are StarClan? How would they do that?"
 
     "They're our ancestors. They live in perfect hunting grounds and watch over us. We have medicine cats to receive their messages." 

     "Ghosts?" 

     "Yes." 

     Palemist expected some sort of retort. Some sort of comment. Jeering. Mocking. A joke. But Mellow showed only fascination. "I've always wanted to see a ghost," Mellow said. "Have you?" 

     Palemist hesitated for a moment before dipping his head. "I saw my father. He died in a fire." 

     "My mother sometimes talks about a forest fire. She thinks her friend died in it." Mellow crouched and tucked his paws under his chest. "I'd like to learn more about the Clans sometime, if that's alright?" 

     For a moment, Palemist felt sick to his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was relive his memories, which were bound to flood his mind if he dwelled on Clan life. "I might," he said dustily. "If I feel up to it." 

     "We should go for a walk. Stretch your legs." Mellow stood up and arched his back. "We can catch something too. I taught myself how to catch mice. There are some near the Trashplace. But we can't go in. There's a dog there." 

     Palemist flicked an ear. I've never seen a dog. "Okay. Let's go." There's no use in just sitting here all the time. I may as well get used to the area.  

     Mellow darted through the break in the fence, leaving Palemist startled by his speed. Palemist followed, running after the kittypet. The two turned a corner and slowed to a brisk walk. "There are rats further into the Trashplace, but they're probably covered in fleas. The mice tend to stay outside the walls. I think they're scared of the dog." 

     "Have you seen the dog? Does it have a name?" Palemist questioned.
 
     "I don't know if dogs even have names. I haven't seen him. My brother did though, his name is Popcorn. He's terrified." Mellow hopped into a ditch of hard earth. "Come on!" 

     Palemist slipped in after him. "I'm coming," he hissed.  

     It wasn't long before they were back beside the thin streams of black stone that ran throughout the twolegplace. Palemist's pads ached as he trekked along the hard rock yet he said nothing. The night was calm, no monsters bothering to run down the thunderpaths. At least we don't have worry about being trampled. 

     What in StarClan's name is that stench? 

     Ahead stood a line of towering wooden planks. Mold and sludge coated them, black rot-spots dotting their centers. "It smells like something died tenfold," Palemist mewed. 

     "That's the Trashplace. Great place for hunting because the prey can't smell you. We just can't go inside." Mellow trotted toward the border.  

     "Fine by me," Palemist muttered. "Should I search alongside the wood?" 

     "Yeah. The mice like to nest in it." 
     This will be easy. Palemist began to skirt the wooden wall. He tasted the air only to recoil in disgust. The mice can't smell me, but I can't smell them! He gave an irritated flick of his tail and pricked his ears. Maybe I can hear them. 

     It wasn't long before he heard a squeak and dropped into a crouch. Slowly but surely, he made his way towards the sound, moving with absolute silence. He flattened his ears and stiffened when he saw the gray fur. The mouse, turned away from him, nibbled on a blade of grass. 

     Palemist lunged and caught the mouse beneath his paws, snapping its neck between his jaws. The taste of its fur and blood filled his mouth, and he lifted his catch and purred. A loud sniffling made him jump, and he twisted to the fence and fluffed his fur. A large black nose was poking through a grass-hidden hole in the boards. The dog! 

     The sniffing continued for a moment before the dog gave a soft huff and disappeared. Palemist dropped his catch and crept towards the hole, glancing through. A large, powerful creature was moving inside. It's huge! 

     "Palemist! Get away from there!" Mellow's voice. Palemist turned to the kittypet, whose brown leather collar cut through his bristling fur. "That dog is dangerous!" 

     Palemist was stunned. The fear and worry in Mellow's eyes shook him to his core. He cares. He cares about my safety as if he'd known me forever. Palemist shook his head. No. He doesn't. I'm just reaching for twigs. "It's alright," he mewed, almost guiltily. "I'm alright. Did you catch anything?" 

     Mellow nodded. "A scrawny mouse." He sounded calmer now. "I see yours is better." 

     "A scrawny mouse can be harder to catch. Not much room to put your paws on," Palemist said. He looked to the hole in the fence. Would that dog kill me if it could? 

     "I guess we should go." Mellow turned away and rounded a corner. Palemist snatched up his prey and started after his friend.