Hostile

49

Frostcloud and Warmheart laid in the dark nursery with their backs touching. It was their first night in the den, and with Mosspool's vacancy, it had become stagnant and cold. The empty space filled Frostcloud with a wary void that, paired with her constant physical discomfort, was making it hard to rest easily.

Warmheart, however, was dozing away blissfully. Perhaps after so many moons in the den, she couldn't space as eerie as Frostcloud was now. The sound of her breathing did bring a sense of peace and comfort to Frostcloud, however. She sighed deeply and rested the side of her head on the rim of her fresh nest, trying again once more to lull herself to sleep.

Just as she felt her body float and fall into slumber, she jolted awake. Her heart hammered at the sensation. Then her ears twitched; as voices were beginning to break the silence in the clearing.

With a grunt, Frostcloud heaved herself to her paws. Warmheart raised a sleepy head, and her whiskers drooped from sleep. "Everything okay?"

"Yes," Frostcloud said gently after she lowered her head to press her forehead to the tortoiseshell's shoulder, "it sounds like Buckheart just returned from the Gathering."

The smaller warrior squeezed from the nursery, but the eyes of the returning group were not terribly welcoming. Buckheart's head popped above the crowd, and upon catching Frostcloud's eye, he made several bounds to greet her. He pressed his nose to hers. "What's the matter?" She asked. The sky above was clear and Silverpelt shone brightly along with the moon. For whatever reason the Clan was so tense, it wasn't because the truce was broken.

"One of MarshClans warriors was murdered."

Frostcloud felt her eyes stretch in alarm and couldn't stop the fur along her spine from pricking at the news. "Murdered?" She repeated in disbelief.

Buckheart gave a curt nod. Behind Frostcloud, she could hear Warmheart pry from the nursery. Her eyes were wide in uncertainty, as though she weren't sure she heard correctly.

Behind Buckheart, Crowfur was approaching. The moon lit his pelt in a silver halo. "Is it true?" Warmheart asked the deputy.

Crowfur nodded. "Yes."

The two expecting she-cats cast a wary glance at eachother. It was Warmheart who spoke, "By who?"

"A rogue." Crowfur said heavily. "Halfstar came bearing a warning, as it occurred just days ago, quite deep into their territory it seems."

Anxiously, Frostcloud kneaded the earth she sat on, as she attempted to soothe herself. Could if have been Moho and her band of rogues? They hadn't stepped foot into PineClan territory since Foxpaw had been made an apprentice.

But they had taken one of Whitestar's lives. Moho nearly took Riverpelt's life that day as well. How any cat could kill another in cold-blood was beyond her.

Frostcloud matched Crowfur's sharp yellow gaze. "Moho?" She asked, voicing her concerns.

The deputy shook his head. "It sounds like it was a lone rogue that attacked- unless something happened to her troop, I am doubtful it was her."

"It's possible though." Warmheart considered. "It was a bloody battle that day."

Frostcloud flicked her tail as she considered the notion. PineClan had their medicine cats to tend their wounds, and unless Moho had her own herbal knowledge, the faction would be much more suseptible to infection.

Crowfur gave Warmhearts forehead a gentle lick. "In either case, a lone rogue is no match for two Pinecats. Let alone a patrol. Whitestar will address the issue at dawn. You and our kits are safe here." His gaze switched to Frostcloud, "And yours as well, of course."

The warrior nodded at the tom. Next to him, Buckheart's muscles were tense. Frostcloud knew they were right- the safest place in all the Clans was within these gorse walls. And although the news was quite sad, and alarming still, a rogue killing a Clancat was hardly unheard of. Frostcloud imagined that for the next moon or so, no cat would leave camp alone.

Behind Frostcloud, the other warriors were beginning to make their way to their den. Reluctantly, Frostcloud pressed her nose to Buckheart once more before she returned to the nursery. Warmheart followed after, and once more the two cats laid together side by side.

"You must be feeling anxious." Warmheart said quietly in the dark. Frostcloud nodded gently in response. The news was unnerving for any cat, but as Frostcloud moved further along her pregnancy, her anxiety seems to grow every day.

Rationally, she knew she had nothing to fear. No lone rogue could manage their way into camp without being met with the claws of more cats than Frostcloud had toes.

But, in a dark corner of Frostcloud's mind, she couldn't stop imagining some faceless rogue using her fangs to rip Frostcloud's mewling kits away from her. She shuttered at the invasive image.

Soothingly, Warmheart ran her tongue between Frostcloud's shoulders. As the time went on, the consolation slowly made her eyes heavy, and not long after resting her head on her paws, Frostcloud successfully drifted to sleep.

When she awoke the next morning, Warmheart was still snoring softly in her nest. Frostcloud arose as quietly as she could manage- the senior queen had soothed her to sleep the prior night, and desevered to not be disrupted now.

Beyond the den, brisk air pinched Frostclouds nose. The sky was cloudless, but the sun provided only weak light. Cats, Frostcloud noticed, were assembling around Clanrock. She must have just missed Whitestar calling a meeting.

"The rumors are true." He announced firmly. Frostcloud took a heavy seat next to Cricketlegs towards the back of the assembly. His tail touched hers in greeting.

Murmurs sparked amongst the Clancats for a moment before Whitestar continued, "It's not our first encounter with killer rogues, and it won't be our last," he went on gravely, "for the time being, no cat leaves camp alone. We find safety in numbers."

"How many rogues were spotted?" Came Slatethorn, rising from his paws. The grey tom had not been to the Gathering the previous night.

"Only one was scented. They attacked a lone warrior in the shelter of night." Whitestar answered.

"That must have been StarClan warning MarshClan not long ago." Shaleshimmer said to Duskfur nearby.

"I've wondered the same thing myself." Said Dawnheart from the front of the clowder.

Whitestar opened his mouth to speak but choked and let out several raspy coughs. The Clan turned to their leader as he held his breath, and turned to face away from the the assembly below. Several heartbeats passed before he went on, "Crowfur, assemble patrols?"

The deputy nodded skeptically. As if reading his thoughts, Whitestar went on, "My apologies. I must have had something in my throat."

"It must have been that coughing Valleycat." Cricketlegs said with a flick in his tail, "She ended up hacking up a storm during Lavenderstar's announcement."

"This meeting is over." Whitestar announced before he took a mighty leap off Clanrock, as though he were exaggerating his physical strength to calm the Clancats. Which worked, as their attention shifted to their deputy, who began his usual task to organize border and hunting patrols.

An aroma caught Frostclouds attention and she swung her head to the fresh-kill pile. Near the top was a squirrel. Her stomach twinged in hunger, and the warrior padded towards the kill to collect for herself and Warmheart.