The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

66. Choices

     The forest was filled with the sounds of the night, crickets creating their droning song while fireflies blinked in the corner of Scorchwing’s eyes. He paced nervously by the river, listening to the current as he searched the tree line for any sign of his Clanmates. 

     “She’ll be here,” Poppy soothed. “Just give her time.” 

     Scorchwing dug his claws into the earth. At the gathering, after Echolight left them to sit with the medicine cats, he had arranged to meet with Spottedmoss to take her to visit Palemist. She has to show up, or else this is just a waste. As much as he wanted to meet with Palemist again, he feared being caught. What if she’s framing me? Setting me up? They could kill me now. He shook his head. Spottedmoss is a good cat! She’s helped me! 

     “I see her,” Poppy said. Scorchwing watched as a brown shape emerged from the reeds and swam across the river, standing in the shallows. 

     “I’m walking along here to hide my scent,” Spottedmoss explained. “So my Clan won’t find me so easily.” 

     “We’ll be back before dawn,” Scorchwing insisted. Spottedmoss said nothing, simply trodding through the water like a fish, the waves pushing her onward. Scorchwing padded along the edge. “He’ll be happy to see you.” 

     “I hope,” mewed Spottedmoss. “I miss him.” Determination flickered in her eyes. There’s something she’s not telling me. 

     They reached the outer border quickly, and Spottedmoss swiftly rolled in the grass and licked her fur to dry herself, giving her pelt a shake and dashing. Scorchwing rushed to follow. “I know where he lives, so we can go directly to him,” he said. “So it’ll be quicker than last time.” 

     When they reached the stretch of land before the thunderpath, Spottedmoss slowed to a halt. “Thank you,” the warrior murmured, staring at the twolegplace. Fear rolled off of her pelt, and she jumped when Poppy touched her cheek. 

     “We’ll be alright. Trust me, I know this place like the back of my paw,” she soothed.  

     Scorchwing felt for rumblings on the thunderpath and flew across, Poppy and Spottedmoss falling in behind him. He jumped the ditch in a single bound while Poppy and Spottedmoss clambered through it. We have to be quick. We don’t have any good excuses to be gone too long. 

     Poppy took the lead, walking with confidence along the stone paths of the twolegplace. Here, the crickets were less in number and much more quiet as a result, and the only flickering lights came from twoleg-made poles. Scorchwing felt uneasy, but he could see that Spottedmoss was another kind of anxious. What’s wrong with her? 

     In time, they reached a more abandoned portion of the twolegplace and found the alley. Scorchwing slipped by Poppy and walked calmly through, emerging in the clearing and immediately looking to the den. Everything smells like Palemist. And someone else. Like Poppy. 

     Poppy herself was sniffing the air, and her mouth gaped. “That’s- That’s my mother’s scent!” 

     “Palemist!” Scorchwing called. “Are you in there? It’s Scorchwing.” 

     The gray head poppy out, and Palemist beamed at him, padding into the open. He started to speak, but he cut himself short when he saw Spottedmoss. He stepped towards her, and she did the same. 

     “Palemist!” Spottedmoss finally gasped, rushing forward and almost tackling him as she rubbed her cheek to his. “I missed you so much!”