Warrior Cats: Gossamer

Chapter 2

A starry landscape wavered in Myrtlekit's vision. Their head hurt at the sight of this strange, otherworldly place that rippled like water around her. Even the sounds of this place were distinctly warped; birdsong and the sound of laughter warbling strangely from all directions. And it was warm. Extremely warm. Myrtlekit felt as if they were melting into a puddle. Feeling ill and unbearably hot, she looked down to see what on earth was making them feel this way. But now, terror sent a chill through every hair on their pelt.

Blood soaked her normally white paws in a rich crimson hue. It weighed heavy in their pelt, like she was soaked to the skin in sun-baked, stagnant water. When Myrtlekit tried to scream, they found that blood choked out her voice and gurgled in her throat like vomit. Disgustedly she hunched over, forcing as much of the viscous liquid out of themself as she could, just enough to cry out for someone, anyone, to rescue her.

But the shriek she uttered was not her own.

"FloodClan!" Silverstreak's strained death-rattle clawed its way out of her throat.

Faint memories of what had to have been a nightmare began to weave into formation like patchwork, but the sound and feel of their own throat being torn out chased the images at the boundary of Myrtlekit's mind back into the darkness. The scorching darkness, where she bled out and melted into a puddle of her and her mother's blood.

•~*~•

Myrtlekit's swollen eyes slammed open, tearing up at the blinding light of day. Their claws flailed at the padding of moss around her, catching on what felt like fur beside her. The silver kit's jaw wrenched itself open in a shriek, one that was ultimately futile because her throat hurt so badly. My body hurts! Myrtlekit wailed silently, I'm on fire! I'm dying!

Just as they felt as if the world would finally slip out from under her paws, two soft forelegs pulled her close and steadied them, hugging her close to a chest of plumy, soft, snow-white and ginger fur that smelled faintly of milk. "N-no! I'm s... s-scared!" Myrtlekit croaked, trying as hard as they could to sob as hard as she needed to right now.

The cat holding her purred rhythmically in response. The vibration rolled through Myrtlekit's frail body, and in a moment of exhaustion she realized that the world wasn't ending. Their muscles burned when the fear melted away, and she sunk limply into the downy fur of this new cat.

"There, there..." they soothed. With Myrtlekit's ears up near their throat, she could hear all of the distinct tones of the cat's voice. It was slightly deep and had a rasp to it, one that spoke of a life full of laughter and cries of joy. Myrtlekit wanted to cling onto that sound for the rest of her life, and they snuggled in close to hear it more.

The cat kept purring. "Oh, there you are, sweetheart. You're okay. I've got you." Myrtlekit hesitated before offering a slight nod, to which the cat responded to by lapping her forehead with such force that Myrtlekit tumbled backwards. Falling back onto soft moss, they couldn't help but let out a slight mrrp of surprise.

"Whoops! Sorry, Kid, you're light as a feather!"

As her eyes adjusted, the cat's face came into focus. They looked heavenly, haloed by golden sunlight that filtered in through the woven ceiling of the den. Their pelt was a dark ginger, marbled by darker red tabby stripes that patterned a thick coat of slightly curled fur. Their muzzle, paws, and chest were a striking white, nearly blinding when paired with their darker coloration. Unlike Myrtlekit, they weren't scrawny. They were stocky, thickset, and well-muscled. Their face was round and looked weathered the same way a cat would look after spending ages of their life smiling. And their eyes, Myrtlekit marveled, were round, and a rich, creamy brown color.