Cursed Division - Kindred Whispers book 2)

Chapter 13

"My kit!" PearlWhisper yowled, her wail a haunting echo in the clearing. "I can't find my preocious kit! Oh Ebony, where are you?"
Cats rushed out of their dens, fur ruffled and unkept from sleep. PearlWhisper frantic gaze darted to and fro, the early dawn light turning her bristling fur silver.
Crow brushed up beside her, lapping her ears and whispering comforting words.
"We'll find her," one of the she-cats soothed the terrified mother. "He couldn't have gone far. Even if he did, he is safe in PeaceLeaf. No cat would hurt a lost kit."

Except they would. CrookedTail thought ruefully. He crouched at the edge of the clearing, paws tucked under him and eyes slitted as he lazily watched PearlWhisper frantically scurry around and wail about. He had to suppress his amusement for the sake of not being suspicious. His nephew's blood was on his claws and no one knew.
Eventually, the PeaceLeaf Guardian raced to the center of the clearing where PearlWhisper was trembling, eyes wild with fear.
"He's my only surviving kit," she whispererd. "We must find him."
"We'll locate him." The Guardian promised, lifting her head to address the crowd.
"RedFeather, SlashPelt, and GraySpike, search the east border and it's surrounding areas. PineSap, Hawk, and Leandro search the west border. Flare, Birch, and PikeScartch, take the the south. And DashingPaws, RavenTail, and Crow take the north."
All the cats nodded and raced out of camp. Crow gave his mate one last reassuring lick before following his patrol.

CrookedTail flicked an ear, watching the rest of the camp cats huddle in hushed whispers. PearlWhisper began to whimper and shiver. The Guardian beckoned her over to a quiet spot of the camp and stroked her tail gently down the worried mother's spine.
Fools. CrookedTail thought grimly. It's one kit. She can always make more.
A selfish thought it was. But he didn't care. He killed his nephew without a second thought.
Rising to his paws, CrookedTail cast a glance at the remaining group of cats in the camp. None of them paid him any attention. Silent as a shadow, he slinked through the camp wall, the fronds brushing his pelt, then he tasted the air for the scent of prey.
I need to bring something for ShadowStalk. He thought. Our agreement still stands.

Using his keen nose, the brown tabby was led to a lush part of PeaceLeaf. By now, the sun was beginning to rise above the horizon, shining early daylight through the canopy. The air promised a bit more warmth today, a drastic change from the snowfall they'd gotten lately.
I'll be glad for this snow to melt. I hate the coldness beneath my paws and the chill that reaches beneath my pelt.
The sound of a rustle made him freeze in his tracks. A bush in front of him rattled with disturbance. He crouched, tucking his paws beneath them and steadily watched the rustling bush. Soon enough, a squirrel darted out, oblivious to the cat stalking it. Bunching his muscles, CrookedTail sprang, taking his prey by surprise and killing it with a swift bite to the back of its neck. The warm taste of blood bathed his tongue. It was a meager squirrel, but it'd do. He scuffed patches of dirt over his prey before lifting his nose to taste the air again.
A small animal nibbled on something not far away, beneath a tree, around the roots.

Stalking it, he slithered silently as a snake, the lightly frosted grass tips brushing his fur. He set his paws down lightly. But suddenly his paws crunched a dead leaf and he froze.
Oh no.
The little animal, a mouse, shot him an alarmed look and was beginning to turn to flee.
Oh no you don't!
Using his hindpaws to lurch himself forward in a powerful spring, he outstretched his paws and hooked them in his prey's side, and sank his teeth in his jugular, causing it to fall limp in his jaws. Satisfied, he lifted the creature by its tail and padded over to his other kill and grabbed it too. While the squirrel was rather frail, the mouse had a plump and meaty body.
Perhaps it was expecting young ones. He wondered. But who cares. Prey is prey.

Making sure to be cautious and alert, he angled his ears up, alert for any of the patrols who were out and about searching for the dead Ebony. Nothing stirred the silence. The only sound were his paws crunching on the leaves as he made his way for the border. But as he edged closer, something told him he wasn't alone. He had a dreading sense something was watching him. But when he glanced around and tasted the air, he detected nothing.
Perhaps I'm just being paranoid.
Continuing on, he crossed the border and made his way into the plains. Even here, he noticed the snow was melting. Warm air was truly on the way. He kept quiet as he made his way to the DeathBlood border. To his surprise, no cat challenged him. But it wasn't long.