Legacy: Timeless (Book 2)

Chapter 7: Wrong Is Right

Chapter 7: Wrong Is Right

"Who is that kit?" Mira asked to no one in particular as they stared at the still unconscious kit. After the kit had collapsed, they'd done their best to clean and bandage her wounds, using Scorch's slightly advanced herb knowledge to use marigold juices and cobwebs to bind the worst wounds.

"She has an odd scent," Scorch mewed, twitching her nose. The kit had her own particular scent, but it was overlaid by another scent, as if it was a cumulative scent. Scorch frowned, feeling an odd sensation that this kit was more than just an unlucky victim.

"I agree, I'd almost suggest she was a Clan-kit, the way she smells like she's from some large group of cats. But from what I know, Clan cats take excellent care of their kits, one of the few things they do right," Painted sniffed in disdain.

"We'll just have to wait until she wakes up," Jump decided. "But we should go to sleep ourselves, it's getting late," he mewed, looking up at the blackening sky where the brighter stars were already shining clearly.

"Okay..." Scorch mewed, muffling her yawn. "We'll just have to wait..."

... Kit's POV...

She opened her eyes, wondering if she was dead yet. But to her surprise, she found herself lying on a comfortably soft green lining. What in the world...? Memories of the day before crammed into her head, making her shut her eyes tight and clench her mouth to try to ignore the painful past days.

But... where am I? She didn't remember what had happened after she'd dragged herself away, her young life bleeding out and leaving a trail behind her. She'd just desired the pain to go away and to be all alone. Alone.

It was a word she'd learned to love in her short five moons of life. Being alone forever, it was an odd desire, but it was hers. And with her experience with other cats, who could really blame her? But for now, she had to focus on where she was and what had happened.

She looked around, craning her neck slightly. She could smell several other cats, but she was turned away from them, her head facing a tall wall of coarse grass and dry, brown reeds. She looked over her fur, wondering what had happened to stop the painful throbbing of her wounds.

Her eyes widened in amazement as she saw her wounds bound expertly with cobwebs, just as skillfully as Skypool. But who did it? Groaning slightly at her wounds that ached as she moved, she sat up, panting and hanging her head as her body tensed and relaxed as she finished moving.

Now, finally, she looked up at the sky, trying to collect her surroundings. The pale yellow light told her the sun was just barely starting to rise, and most of the area was in gray shadows. But she worked up the courage and turned to look at her unwanted saviors.

Her mouth hung open as she looked at the four cats lying strewn about. I owe my life to... rouges?! Two, a tom and a she-cat, were sleeping together. One was a small, dirty-white tom with frayed whiskers as if he never cleaned himself, and he had a raggedly torn ear.

The she-cat he was sleeping with was a smallish gray tabby she-cat who looked like a kittypet with her soft looking fur. The other grown cat was a long-legged cream she-cat with white, black, and orange spots along with white paws, ear–tips, and tail-tip.

But it was the last cat that really shocked her. The one closest to her; a tiny, shaded red-orange mottled she-kit with a black paw, opposite black spot over her eye, and a black ear the same side of her black paw. But that wasn't it, this she-kit's fur stuck up in wild angles as if she'd been rubbed the wrong way. This kit has a different scent then the others though...