Warriors: Pebblescar's Reality

Chapter 9

Pebblescar strode farther, ready to fight. He was sure he still had a fair distance to walk before he encountered the group of rogues, but he pressed on. The revenge-driven tom hauled himself atop a large wall that guarded a Twoleg nest in a similar fashion to a fence, and checked around for any Twolegs, dogs, or other cats before continuing on his journey. He leaped to a much smaller white fence, the scent of the rogues already much stronger. Pebblescar tensed as he realized that the group was much closer than he had expected. If he was correct, they were hiding in an alley only a few dens away.

He peered into the dark, narrow gap, unable to fully make out any shapes, until he saw a blur of white and pale grey run past. There was clearly more than what the eye in the alley. 

Wrinkling his nose at the horrid, musky smell of both the alley and the rogues, Pebblescar padded into the waste-filled passage, ready to pounce on any cat who crossed him. He heard voices, low and rushed, before a pair of bright amber eyes appeared out of almost nowhere. The cat who owned them narrowed their eyes, and let out a hiss. More quick conversation happened, and Pebblescar was unsure if he should advance or retreat, but instead chose to stay put.

Before he could even think, he felt a weight land heavily upon him, and he could barely move. There was a dark brown tabby atop him, who was hissing in his face, giving Pebblescar an unwanted view of the the rogue's broken, yellowed teeth. The tom's pelt was matted, and he had a nick in his left ear. His breath reeked as he growled, "Who do you think you are? This is our territory." The rogue swiped at Pebblescar's chest, and a small stream of blood ran down his belly.

Pebblescar drew his mouth back into a snarl, scratching at the tom with his hind paws. The rogue barely even flinched, and a small group of aggressive cats emerged from the dark passageway, backs arched and ready to pounce. Regret filled Pebblescar, and he knew well that he should just give up and let the cats kill him. He winced as the brown tabby who stood on him kicked him and slashed at his ears, leaving blood trickling down his face, blinding him. He felt all his senses quickly fade away, and he was ready to away from this whole situation. The cats he had killed, the love he had lost, the rogues he had foolishly thought he could take on. . . all of that would be behind him when he was dead.

"Pebblescar, would you like to go hunting with me?" purred an oddly familiar voice as he blinked his eyes open. The gray tom quickly scanned around the area he lay in. Something seemed amiss, but it was the white she-cat stood beside him that made him realize he was back in the RiverClan camp, in the warriors den. Wait, he though, was that all a dream of some sort? It couldn't have really happened if I'm back here. Could it have?  Oakfire was gazing at him, waiting for a response. The cat thought that they were mates, to Pebblescar's dismay.

"Er, yes, we can go hunt after I sort out the patrols," was his awkward, rushed response. He really wanted some time alone to figure out what had happened, but the words had already escaped his mouth, and there was no getting them back in.

"Alright then," Oakfire said with a small mrrow of happiness.

After his work was finished, the gray tom found himself running towards Oakfire, who had already caught a couple of small fish. Pebblescar's mind was racing with thoughts of what could possibly be happening in the other world he lived in, but he attempted to put all of that aside to hunt with his 'mate'.

They chatted and joked, and it really wasn't a bad experience for Pebblescar, although he wished that the event could have been with Minnowfrost, and he was still thinking about those rogues. Their jaws were filled with prey, though, so he couldn't complain.

Pebblescar did enjoy this little alternate world—or perhaps real world—and he found it a good way to have time alone. He did wish it could be something that happened more frequently than it did, but he knew that there had to be some reason why it was the way it was.

And then his eyes blinked open, and he felt the struggling body of a rogue beneath his paws. Pebblescar let a caterwaul escaped his mouth as he sunk his claws into the body, curling his claws and letting blood pool around his paws. Yowling, he avoided a blow from behind and hit the tom underneath him again, this time striking soft flesh. A large gash was torn into the rogue's belly, and Pebblescar let out a triumphant yowl as the blood stained the ground around them red.

The battle ceased. The cats who were circled around him froze, eyes dark with anger and burning with a new-found revenge at this strange cat. "You—you killed our leader!" shouted a small tabby, digging his claws into the soil. Heart pounding, Pebblescar leaped into a battle stance, ready to defend himself from the onslaught of attackers.

A weary-looking gray she-cat padded out from the ground. Her yellow eyes were haunted by the shadows of misery as she bent over the rogue's body. "I'm sorry, Samuel," she muttered, every cat hanging onto her words. "You didn't deserve to die the way you did. You didn't deserve to suffer like you did in your final moments. But you're gone, and I can't change that, so goodbye."

Her words echoed through the crowd.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Pebblescar.

Suddenly the voice become a cat he knew well—Cinderclaw. The tom's voice sounded loudly as if he was right in front of him, but the rogues paid no attention to the call. Pebblescar could only listen as his dead Clanmate begged for another chance at living, asking for redemption, wishing for revenge. 

I just wanted to be your friend. . .

Oakfire's young tone was filled with angst and regret as she spoke to Pebblescar, pouring out all the emotion that she'd never been given the chance to express as her life was ended seasons short of when she should have died.

I didn't even know your name.

Samuel, the rogue who had died for no reason. The cat who seemed important to the rogues—important enough to stop war against a young murderer, at least.

Why?

The voices cried out in unison, and Pebblescar pushed his way out of the circle, ignored by the grieving rogues as he ran from them, his eyes stretched wide with fear.

A/N: This chapter was written by Frosty, finished by Rio, and edited by Duskie. We hope you enjoyed :3