Beyond the Mountains | A Warrior Cats Fanfiction

꧁ ✧ Chapter 10 ✧ ꧂

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The days had started to cool down. It had been well over four moons since she last saw dandelion. She missed him dearly, but had begun to realise the chances of ever seeing him again were slim. He might have been dead moons ago. She had started to make her way downwards, away from the sun into a valley. There were precarious rocks and cliff sides she had to walk along, and enormous leaps that had to be leapt. She kept going though, her mind thoroughly focused on her surroundings, knowing her journey must come to an end soon. whatever that end may be.

Willow looked down from a hill and saw an enormous.... water. She had never seen anything like it, a round stretch of water, with a large island in the middle, with a miniature forest, with bushes, and a growing oak sapling at the centre, with a tiny clearing in front of it. Above it was a river coming from the lake, and a vast moor, next to the moor was a forest, of luscious oak and maple trees, next to this was marshlands, with pine trees and thorns overcrowding, which was boarded by the river. She peered down, but it was too far away to make out any detail. She could see a strange shape, like a box. She pricked her ears at the large object, seemingly to have a hole in the front. She made her way down the hill, spending at least half an hour picking her way carefully through the forest, finding an old twoleg nest, she guessed. Her father had once told her there were strange, tall naked creatures with gripping paws. And they lived in tall dens, with hard walls.

She continued past it, and after a while, the smaller twoleg den was nearer to her. As she came closer she caught scent of a stale smell coming from inside. Inside she could see stacks of dried grass, and smelt the same smell she had in the lower part of the mountains. She began to back away, and she heard a screeching bark. Spinning around, her eyes barely had time to focus on the strange creature before a flurry of rusty orange fur came at her like a sharp gust of wind, knocking her down with a painful thump as her rotting branches were used as an accidental cushion, creating an echoing snapping sound which drifted through the forest. Yowling in surprise and pain, she struck out blindly, claws unsheathed. The weight lifted off her as she heard a yelp, and heard blood spatter on the ground. She scrambled to her paws and for the first time got a good look at it. It was a large, rank-smelling cat-dog-looking creature, with light grey underfur, black paws and ears, with a sunset orange pelt. It stared at her with cold amber eyes and bared its teeth, its cheek oozing blood. It lowered its head and advanced on her quicker than she had expected. She turned to run, and it leapt for her, catching her tail in its jaws. Screeching in agony, she flipped around, leaping onto its back. Her eyes widened and her ears flattened in terrified anger. A new instinct kicked in, and not really knowing what she was doing, she gripped onto its shoulders as she kicked her back legs into its spine, ripping its pelt apart as it turned around, snapping sharp canines at her. Suddenly, the ground came looming towards her, and she was crushed under the bony figure of the animal. Struggling to get her breath, winded, she wriggled out from under it and ran back into the forest. Skipping a step on her injured paw every few paces, she wobbled slightly. The animal gave chase, and it was advancing on her. Panting, she raced for the forest. Speeding up, she took the smallest paths through the undergrowth and most difficult trails. Tripping up more than once, but still going, and luckily, the fox was falling behind with long clumsy legs. She was nearing the lake, and her legs were aching terribly. She kept running, her feet pounding on the ground, her lungs burning. Approaching the beach, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground, scuffing her ribs on the pebbly shore. Scrambling to her paws as fast as she could, she spun around madly, hissing and ready to fight for her life. But she saw nothing, only a rustic tail sliding into the forest. It had given up the chase.

She relaxed and turned around to a vast lake, with an island not so far from the rocky shore. She crouched down by the water, gulping it down until she felt sick. She sat back, licking her jaws. A quiet but noticeable wail caught her attention, and she peered around. A faraway rustle made her turn to the island, and she saw a tiny kitten on the edge of the water, soaked through, and exhausted looking. Alarm sparked through her veins, and she immediately leapt into the icy water. She gasped as the cold seeped through her skin and froze her bones stiff, but kept kicking the water, and made steady progress towards the kit.

What are they doing here all alone? She felt smooth pebbles scrape across her numbing paws and coughed as she pulled herself onto the shore. She inspected the kit, sniffing its pelt as it backed away. It fluffed up, and hissed at her. It looked ridiculous with fluffy wet fur, hissing as if it wasn't the same size as her head.

''Hey, it's alright. I won't hurt you.'' It wrinkled it's nose at her and took a huge sniff of her scent, before sneezing loudly. Sympathy washed through her pelt, and she padded closer to it. It eyed her warily, but didn't move away.

''How did you get here?'' She asked it gently, and it responded with a squeaky voice.

''My mother brought me here, then left. She said she'd be back but she hasn't come back yet. I tried to swim to find her but I couldn't swim. I'm cold.'' It whimpered and looked up at her with wide, sad eyes.

''How old are you?'' Willow asked, eyeing the kit's poor figure.

''Nine moons.'' It said defensively, fluffing up again.

''Stop fluffing up.'' She scolded. ''You need your fur to stay on your body to stop you from freezing to death.'' The kit grumbled and flattened its pelt. It shivered, its eyes miserable and disappointed.

''What's your name?'' She asked him kindly, moving closer to him, letting him lay by her wet, but warm stomach.

''Name? My mother always used to call me Kit.'' He frowned, looking at his paws. She looked in surprise and sorrow at the mistreated kit.

''Are you going to take care of me now?'' The little tomcat looked up into her eyes with bright hope. She winced, knowing she didn't really have time to look after a kit. She had to find Dandelion. And what would happen when the kit was grown? These are things she couldn't think about when a small, soaking kit was snuggling into her belly. Her stomach crawled, but she knew the kit would die if she left him.

''Yes. Yes, I'll look after you now.''