Warrior Eevees #1: The Storm of Fire

7- A Rainy Day

Another moon cycle slipped by, and dark clouds seemed to follow the darkening of the moon. Day after day, the sky was silver at the lightest, but usually a dull woolly grey. Rain poured down on the forest almost daily without the heat relenting, so that the world constantly felt steamy and sticky. The river had long since burst its banks, and it was impossible to patrol the Lake Tribe's borders as the flood covered the border entirely, while the Vaporeon splashed happily through the torrent.

The rain, usually ignored or even welcomed by the Forest Tribe, was becoming a problem. It drove prey into holes and slicked and softened tree bark, forcing the Tribe to stalk on the ground instead of through the trees.

Inside the dens of the Forest Tribe were relatively dry, although Emmy spent much of her time patching holes that mysteriously appeared overnight. She had learned to weave vines and grasses through leaves to block the harsh weather out. Although, like the Forest Tribe, most of her time was spent hunting.

Emmy dug her claws into the rain-slicked bark and scrabbled with her hind paws, her brown pelt soaked into clumps and sticking to her skin, her jaws clamped around the sum total of her catch, which was a single bedraggled Pidgey. She had been lucky, out of the three Leafeon who had gone with her, only Willow had caught something else. Sycamore hovered at her side as she traversed the treetop village. Emmy had been growing more confident above the ground, but the rain had made the world softer and slipperier. She had almost fallen out of the Great Oak the previous day, so she was grateful for Sycamore's support.

His hooked claws dug deep into the wood as they followed Willow to the prey store, which was woefully empty but protected from the rain by the thick roof of leaves that hung above it. The Forest Tribe members were meticulous about repairing it, often working through the deluge to protect what food they had. Emmy's stomach clenched in hunger, but she forced herself to turn away. There were members of the Tribe that needed to eat far more than she did.

She and Sycamore ducked under the floor of the main den, water still streaming from their pelts as they hauled themselves upward into the den. Acorn, Walnut, and Aloe had spent all morning patching holes and leaks, and for the time being, the den seemed exceedingly dry.

Emmy shook herself, throwing glittering drops of water across the floor and making Sycamore squawk in protest. Her pelt still thoroughly damp, she ran her tongue in quick slashes across her forelegs to try to relieve the itching.

"I can't believe the Lake Tribe," Sycamore fumed to her. "After season cycles of peace, they swim all over our territory just because it's flooded?"

They had been hunting near the Lake Tribe border, or as near as any land hunter could get. The flooded river spilled far into Forest Tribe territory, but the Lake Tribe Vaporeon didn't seem to mind, flickering and flashing over the entire expanse of water, chasing fish through submerged ferns and around trees that seemed to grow right out of the water.

Emmy found she didn't have the strength to care. She felt as if she had worn her paws so thin that she was standing on the bone, and shrugged.

"I certainly won't be chasing fish out there," she sighed. "I say the Lake Tribe can have them."

Sycamore's tail snapped back and forth with annoyance, but he didn't argue with her. Instead, he flopped down on his nest, sighing, and sinking into the moss. Everyone's nests had been a little soggy over the last few days, since everything in the forest was so soaked through. Now, fluffy piles of moss sat in the main den to dry and stubbornly refusing to do so.

"Well, I'm beat," he declared. "I think I'll take a nap, how about you?"

Emmy flicked her ears, sending drops of water scattering across the floor. "I think I'll see if Hollyhock has anything else for me to do."