Scotch's Penitence

Chapter 2

The sky was cast in clouds, the sun hardly casting its glow on the surface. Scotch and her father trudged beside the snow-capped homes and the ice-lined streets. Like always, they took the same route to avoid getting lost and running into either of their old homes. The two trudged along the side of the thunderpath, as no monsters ran along it this early. Scotch's father's mind ran into the depths of its memory, hitting a particular sequence of events from nine moons ago.

After Scotch's birth, her father took her to a twoleg den to receive milk and care. For the first moon, this progressed well, until food suddenly stopped appearing for the cats. Fearful they may get trapped and starve, Scotch's father took his daughter away from that awful place, despite how tiny she was.

For hours they ran, before finding a place that brandished a faded red cross. However, there were holes within the walls, with strange markings lining the gray place. It seemed as if it was abandoned, so the duo made a home of it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In the present, they neared the spot where he would train her to fight and play with her before he realized that he was walking alone. His eyes flickered upwards and glanced around, confirming that he let himself get lost in his memories.

"Scotch," he said aloud. He gasped, realizing he was too lost in his thoughts. "SCOTCH!" He boomed, his shout piercing the cool air. He started to panic, as he couldn't properly smell her scent with his nose. Shortly before Scotch was born, he started to notice how hard scents had become to pick up on, and now, it was near impossible for him to smell anything.

He panicked, his breathing rapidly speeding up before remembering that you leave footprints in the snow. Hurriedly eyeing the ground, he noticed that he had been walking alone for only a few steps, with a set of tinier paw prints going off to his left. He followed the prints across the vacant thunderpath, before reaching a strange evergreen bush.

"I know you're in there, Scotch," he said aloud, voice quivering. "You can't get me like last time." He moved his front paws into the bush, pushing the foliage aside and looking in deeper. However, all he saw was some frozen grass and berries. He grunted, thrusting himself away from the bush and frantically searching around again.

His paws scuttled on the ground as he retraced his daughter's steps. He could feel his heart starting to beat fast, pounding through his skull. The cool air made his breathing snappy and light, making the world spin a little as he mindlessly followed the calico cat's trail.

"Please," he mumbled with fear. "Please don't let them have taken her." As Scotch's father began to take a step off of the thunderpath, he spotted a presence of the roof of the adjacent twolegplace, causing him to gasp sharply. The distant figure jumped down, legs extended as they crashed into him, rolling along the side of the path. He pushed the attacker off of himself within seconds, shaking himself back to his senses before he realized who had "attacked" him.

"HAH! You should've seen the look on your face, father!" Snorted Scotch, laughing as she stood in front of him. Her paw stamped the ground in amusement, her tail swishing with pleasure that her surprise attack was successful. She smirked and looked up at her father as she stood in the sparkling snow.

He did not appear to be amused, however. He wore a massive frown on his face, glaring at her. "Scotch..." he left a long pause and he inhaled deeply. "You have got to be kitten me."
He slowly smiled and narrowed his eyes and the two of them burst out laughing due to his incredible pun skills. Scotch's father rushed to his daughter's side and brushed against her, fur as they reunited, their cackles wafting through the air.

"Come on, father, that joke was cat-o-strophic!" She snicked, laughing for a second before observing that her father had stopped. He had an eyebrow raised at her, which only made her chuckle more at how silly he looked.

"Come on, Scotch. The first thing we're doing once we get to the spot is teaching you some better puns!" He announced, tapping his daughter on her shoulder using his tail. He continued trudging through the snow, trying to hold a smile. His dark paws caught snowflakes on the ground, creating the illusion that he had flecks of pale fur.

Scotch turned around to follow her father, still giggling at her success, the puns, and now all of the snow on her father's paws. "Maybe I should be the one teaching YOU! I've gotten so good at ambushing, mean cats won't even see what hit them!" She proclaimed with vigor and laughter. The she-cat bounced along the flakes, letting the frozen water fly up and glimmer in the air, like a trail of light.

"Howeeeeever," her father said longwindedly, catching up to his jogging daughter. "We fight as a last resort, remember?" He grinned, however, glad his daughter had finally taken note of what he taught her. He made sure to keep his eye on his daughter, and the road ahead. I'm not about to get jumped again!

"Right, whatever you say, old man," she sighs, smiling on top of everything. "Besides, I've only made friends so far! It may only be with the rats, but I haven't gone wrong yet." Scotch slowed down and began walking forward in a more normal way, no longer illuminating her way by flinging snow. Her pelt, however, was still littered with little white specks.

"Of course, dear," he smiled continuing to walk with his daughter along the thunderpath as thoughts wove within his mind.  He observed how careless she seemed, how she danced throughout the world like there was no danger and as if her survival wasn't a miracle.

He didn't want her to see how much fear he had just felt, at the slight possibility of her missing. She needed to have a strong father, one with a pelt as strong as the earth itself. She couldn't know that her father was broken, that her father was a liar, or that her father never intended to let her go. I will never choose to not save you, Scotch, he thought as his paws dragged the beautiful, unique snowflakes along with them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You heard me, Ravenpelt," muttered a venomous tongue. "I don't want to train both of these kits. If you don't want to see it, then leave." The she-cat looked down at her two kits, a stark contrast in pelt colors and size. She picked up one by the scruff, setting the kit down in her den gently so that she couldn't see out.

"Cocoa over there-" she tilted her over to the kit she just set down- "is already larger than Scotch. Survival of the fittest dictates this, right, Ravenpelt?" She flexed her claws and flashed a grin at her mate, hoping to be validated in her cruel choice. Instead, she was met with a horrified face.

"I'm not doing it," he said attempting to be calm, composing himself and looking her in the eye to the best of his ability. "I know the father is usually uninvolved in raising daughters, but if you just let me help..." Ravenpelt trailed off, trying to convince his mate. However, even he knew she was too stubborn to be convinced with a few words. Once her mind was set, she wouldn't budge. Scotch was primed to be slaughtered by his mate's claws, and he knew it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He sprinted in the newleaf rain, knowing his scent would be impossible to track with the weather. Scotch, crying and mewling for her mother, dangled from his mouth as he sprinted by twoleg den after den. Eventually, he spotted an alley with a roof covering that he clamored into immediately, finding a spot with a blanket and wrapping his daughter in it.

Ravenpelt licked her fur as fast as he could to keep her warm, knowing she wouldn't last much longer than a few hours without milk. In the meantime, he figured this was the best he could do for her until dawn. Once he finally managed to get Scotch to rest for a few minutes, Ravenpelt got catapulted into the reality of his choice. He abandoned his cruel mate and his other daughter for Scotch. She was all he had left for himself.

"Please, never disappear, my kit," he whispered as he curled his slick, wet fur around his daughter, cold and shaking but providing whatever warmth he could. The moonlight barely reached them, and when it did, Ravenpelt covered his daughter's unseeing eyes. Soon, he'd have to find a way to feed her. And the clock was ticking.

His worries and frustration with his mate didn't stop him from finally letting his tenseness leave his body, however, as his eyes shut. His paws wrapped neatly in front of him, the moon shining high above, and the night half over, he managed to shut his eyes. Thankfully for him that night, his steady breathing was never interrupted, as the nightmares would only start when he awoke.

END OF CHAPTER 2