Heart Of A Fighter (Book 4): Magic In The Valley

Chapter 18: Out Of Her Shell

A week had passed since her ceremony. The moon hung like a pale disc in the sky, casting long shadows across the clearing where the tribe camp nestled.

Wren Whisper, her fur bristling with curiosity, crouched low in the bushes. She should've been asleep by now with her mother in the nursery, but she had seen her friend poke her head out from the warrior's den.

Hyacinth Petal was looking around for a while, before she silently slunk out towards the same tunnel she had clawed into the barriers around camp before quickly vanishing through.

Wren guessed quite quickly what she was up to, and a small part of her urged her to follow to make sure her friend and Carnation wouldn't be doing anything risky.

It was no secret about Hyacinth's clandestine meetings to her. It was a secret shared between Hyacinth Petal and her lover, a bond forged in shared rebellion against the pressure they faced from some of their tribemates.

To be honest, Wren Whisper didn't really see the appeal in keeping the relationship between them secret. It wasn't like it was taboo or against the Oath; there were quite a few open cross-tribe relationships with those of similar gender.

The biggest example would be two warriors from the Hearts of The Restless and the Guild of Freedom, Triggerfish and Laughingthrush. They were openly together, and never hid who they were.

Hyacinth, however, was fiercely independent and clearly wanted to keep her relationship a secret. The reason? Rockpaw, or Rocktalon, now.

He still had a very unhealthy interest in her, a possessiveness bordering on obsession. He would not react well to Hyacinth's love for another, especially a cat from another tribe with the same gender.

Knowing Hyacinth's stubborn streak, Wren knew she certainly couldn't stop her. But she also couldn't let her face the dangers of the Southern Territory alone, especially at night.

So, she followed, cloaked in the shadows, her heart drumming a nervous rhythm against her ribs.

As she approached the camp entrance, one of the guards, Sawfish Snap, a tortoiseshell with crystal-like eyes, halted her. "Where are you headed, your majesty?" She asked.

"I want to take a walk to clear my mind, enjoy the night wind a little," Wren fibbed, hoping that the Thorn Guard would allow her to go.

Sawfish Snap regarded her for a moment before nodding and telling her to be back quick, and Wren quickly trekked out down the slope from her camp until she was out of sight, then she began to move much faster.

The path Hyacinth took was well-worn but still treacherous. She navigated the treacherous rocks of Craggy Creek, paws barely making a sound on the mossy surface.

The wind whispered through the branches, carrying with it the faint scent of river water and the sweet aroma of honeysuckle and a faint tinge of rot from the Golden Rose Cult territory.

A familiar scent, sweet and musky, drifted towards her, the scent of Hyacinth Petal. There she was, trotting through the flowery meadows. Wren hid between the flowers and tall grasses, hoping her friend wouldn't see her following.

Wren followed the scent, navigating the undergrowth with practiced ease, until she reached the edge of the clearing by the river.

There, under the shimmering moonlight, she saw Hyacinth Petal nestled with Carnation.

The two cats were huddled close, their whispers barely audible, but their bodies spoke volumes. They were holding each other, their fur brushing, their tails intertwined.

The heiress's initial surprise gave way to a curious kind of amusement. This wasn't forbidden love, not really. The tribes weren't against cross-tribe pairings, just against clandestine ones.