The Tongue Of Cats

Chapter Eleven

Aspenfrost sat down on his couch, Iriskit's dead eyes haunting his vision. He blinked swiftly, hoping to clear the picture away, but all he could see was the pool of blood growing larger and larger and his young son crying out for help. His claws slipped out, sinking into the leather of the couch as his gaze turned more and more scarlet from the leaking blood. Soon all he could was an endless field of red, coloring every part of his eyes and every inch of the den.

"Me—Melonsong," he stuttered loudly, still engulfed in the humming redness. The sound of Iriskit's voice had tripled in volume, screaming into his ears and drowning out his thoughts. He collapsed to the floor, the bitter scent of cleaning liquid wafting up his nose. "Melonsong."

He felt his mate's claws gently shaking his shoulder, but he couldn't hear her over Iriskit's cries. Limp, Aspenfrost let the she-cat groom his fur as the scarlet slowly drained away from his vision. With each stroke of her tongue, the little kit's voice grew more muffled until it was barely a whisper in his ears. But still, the dark brown tom kept his eyes glued shut, not wanting to see the horrified expression that would surely haunt Melonsong's expression.

"Are you feeling better?" she meowed gently into his ear, her muzzle resting on his shoulder. Aspenfrost let out a soft whimper, trying to signal a 'yes', but he couldn't force the words out of his throat.

All of a sudden, he was blasted by the sudden need for water. Aspenfrost became aware of his dry, cracked pads, his parched throat, his sandpaper tongue. "W—w—wat—er," he gasped, eyes flying open to see a red blanket draped over his legs. Melonsong lept to her paws and rushed to the sink, filling up a glass with water and more cautiously returning to his side. The tom sipped at the liquid, tongue quickly lapping it up. "Thank you," he meowed hoarsely, blinking swiftly.

The tortoiseshell she-cat nodded quickly. "Was it another v—vision?" she asked softly.

Aspenfrost had lost his ability to sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, the images of his son's mutilated body flew to mind and they flew open. So, he had spent the last few days sleepwalking around, numbly wishing he could feel anything besides grief and vengeance.

"Yes," he replied dryly, swiping his tongue around his jaws. He leaned into his mate's shoulder. "Why—why did they have to take him from us?"

Melonsong had no answer, so they sat in silence together. Aspenfrost flicked on the T.V, eyes blankly settling on the screen.

A news reporter was standing in front of a small clearing. "Hello, I'm Brickfur, and welcome to Landong news," he announced. "Today we have an update on the Viloci murder." Aspenfrost's ears flicked up. Those fox-brained Twolegs finally got what they deserved, right? His whiskers twitched with anticipation as the reporter continued. Even the thought of Iriskit couldn't stop his excitement.

"A group of Twolegs went looking for their missing comrade in the woods. They found the body and one Twoleg returned to their den so it could be properly saved for burial. The other two went on into the forest, where they crossed a patrol of Naje cats. An apprentice was shot and killed by one of the Twolegs. According to the other cats on scene, there was nothing done to provoke them—the shot apparently came from between two trees, where the patrol had not noticed their presence."

"The patrol of Naje cats attacked and killed the remaining Twolegs. In other news..."

Melonsong switched off the T.V, her tail swishing back and forth with a slight hint of excitement. "You know what this means?" she asked brightly. "Another cat was murdered, but we're not alone anymore. There's another family out there missing their young kit. They want revenge. The Naje will be fighting in favor of the war now.

"We're not alone."

Written by Rio ⛈⛈