Dustfur's origin

Chapter 10

Dustfur followed Emberpaw through the alleyways. He wanted to wrinkle his nose at the stench of crowfood. On the other side of the sidewalk was Swallowheart, Smokeheart, and Oakpelt. She flicked her tail, and Madeline walked onto the sidewalk. They were near the rogues, their home an alley between a row of twoleg dens. So far, the plan was going smoothly.

"Give me my kits back," Madeline said shakly.

"And why would we do that? A tom growled. "You're just a fat lazy she-cat with a mouse-brained mate,"

Madeline hissed, which was the signal. Unsheathing his claws, Dustfur stepped out after Emberpaw went, followed by Oakpelt, Dustfur, Swallowheart, Mothstar, Smokeheart, Stonefrost, Hawkfire, Maplespots, Hazelwood, and Nightwhisker.

"Becuase if you don't, you'll suffer," Emberpaw said, thrashing her tail and her voice cold as ice. He surveyed the rogues around them. They were outnumbered by a couple cats, but he knew they could fight better. They hissed at the clan cats, but the Clan cats didn't move, only unsheathed their claws.

"Yeah right," a smooth voice came from behind a trash can. A lithe white she-cat with ginger paws and belly slid out from behind it. Her claws were hooked, but a purr came from her throat. "These kits are mine now," she said. From behind her came out three wide eyed kits, one black tom, one ginger and white she-kit, and one ginger tabby she-kit. Madeline gasped and stepped forward, but a rogue, one black and white, stepped in front of them.

"Oh, I know you! Your mother was Shard, right? Oh, that's too bad," the she-cat began to lick her paw. She flicked her tail, and the rogues attacked.

He ran for a rogue, who was caught of guard. They tussled in a fight, clawing at his ears. He screeched and continued dealing blows onto the rogue's head. He jumped out of the way and bit down as hard as he could  onto his tail, and he screeched in agony., and he held on. The rogue turned and crawled his mussel, and he felt warm blood run down his cheek. He wiggled away from the rogue's claws and stood up to continue fighting. But once he did this, another rogue slammed into him, knocking the wind out of him. The two rogues them began working together, dealing blows on his head. He screeched under the weight and tried blindly to escape, but the cat on top of him was to heavy, and he would only feebly try and claw them. Suddenly, with a hiss, Emberpaw lunged at the two rogues. Her forest green eyes here blazing, and she fought off the two rogues, her claws raking them. One rogue ran away, and soon the other rogue followed. Emberpaw turned to Dustfur.

"You're bleeding," he said, breathless. It was true. Her beautiful white fur that usually gleaming was covered in blood, and Dustfur wasn't sure if it was the rogues or her's, which worried him. Her shoulder was bleeding heavily, and she panted from the fight.

"I'm perfect," she said, lashing her tail. Dustfur said nothing as she looking around. He knew she was looking for the white she-cat, and soon she leapt into battle. Dustfur looked around and saw Oakpelt fighting off two rogues. He raced over and fought side by side with his brother, slamming his claws down on the rogue's head. Soon the two cats ran off, leaving a faint trail of blood on the cold ground. The two brothers looked around and saw that more rogues were retreating, until there was no more rogues left in the alley.

Crystal emerged from behind some twoleg object, whimpering in pain as she ran off. Emberpaw padded out with the three kits, and Madeline ran over to them. The black tom was Night, the ginger and white she-kit was Flower, and the ginger she-cat was Apple. Apple looked at Emberpaw.

"You were brave," she said. Emberpaw mumbled thank You and sat down on the ground. Her eyes were tired and she was covered in wounds. He padded over, worried.

"Lets get you back to camp," he murmured, propping her up on his side. Her usually soft fur was sticky against him from dried blood, and her paw was bleeding from a ripped out claw. Smokeheart walked over and supported her on her other side. He looked at Smokeheart and to his surprise, the white tom had a threatening look when he met his gaze before looking at Emberpaw with a worried look. Dustfur flicked his ear, confused. What was that look about? He shook away the thought when Emberpaw stumbled, and he caught her. She was weak, and soon she fell again.

""Put her on my back," he told Smokeheart. The white tom didn't say anything, just lifted the she-cat carefully onto his back. He almost fell against her weight, but he stood up again, determined to get her to Dappledleaf. Mothstar lead the way through the twoleg place. You'll be fine, Emberpaw, he thought to himself. I hope.

Once the cats got back to camp, Dappledleaf ordered him to carefully put her in one of the moss bedding in the medicine den. He did so, and shook out his fur. Emberpaw was lying unconscious in the moss. Her pelt was matted and covered in blood. He sat down and began to lick her fur clean, the tangy taste of dried blood on his tounge. He continued to do this until Dappledleaf ordered him out. He sighed and left the den, and padded over to Madeline. The black she-cat was sitting with her kits, watching them play.

"So you're Emberpaw's sister?" He sat down and asked her.

"Yeah," She replied, "Who are you?"

"I'm Dustfur. I was the cat that brought her here in the first place," he said. Madeline's eyes were worried.

"I saw her after the battle. Do you think she'll be okay?" She asked.

"I hope so," he murmured looking away. Madeline looked around him and twitched her whiskers. He followed her gaze and saw Smokeheart waiting outside the medicine den, looking nervous.

"Who's that?" She asked Dustfur.

"Smokeheart," he said, hiding his distaste.

"I think he has a crush on my sister," she said, then blinked. "But he's not right for her,"

"What?" He asked, looking back at Madeline. She nodded.

"I saw how he fought today. It didn't seem like he was doing it just to protect his clan. He just seemed... angry in general. She wouldn't like a tom like that," she replied cooly. "I know my sister well,"

"And how do you know this?" He said, twitching an ear. "Do you think anycat is right for her?"

"I just have a feeling. And I know who's right for Emberpaw," She smirked, looking at Dustfur. He didn't understand how Emberpaw's sister knew all this stuff, but it made him feel a bit better. Madeline looked up and down at Dustfur.

"You should probably wash off all that blood," she told him, then turned. "Flower, get out of there, now!"

Flower, the ginger and white kit, was looking inside the warrior's den, and at her mother's call, she padded forward. Dustfur looked down and saw his light brown fur coated with dried blood. He was sure quite a bit of it was Emberpaw's. He nodded and left the camp, heading for a stream. He stepped in and shivers ran down his spine at the cold. He turned to hear somecat marching through the forest. Smokeheart stood there, eyeing him.

"Something wrong, Smokeheart?" He asked, unsure why he was like this. The white tom stepped forward, shaking his head angrily.

"I've seen you with her," he said in a low voice. "But there's no completion. Emberpaw's mine,"

"What?" He asked. Then he lashed his tail. "Emberpaw doesn't belong to anycat!"

Smokeheart rolled his eyes. "That doesn't matter. I'm the one who deserves her,"

"It's for her to decide who she wants to be mates with," Dustfur said, his voice cold. Smokeheart turned.

"But I know she loves me. Besides, you're half rogue. She doesn't deserve you," he sneered. Dustfur narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not going on with this," Dustfur spat, then turned. To his surprise, Smokeheart rushed in front of him, sneering.

"I'm just trying to get the message through, Dustfur. Leave her alone," he hissed, and Dustfur backed up when he saw his claws were unsheathed. Suddenly, Smokeheart clawed his mussel, and Dustfur gasped. The white tom looked down at his paw, then back up at Dustfur. Blood dripped from where Smokeheart clawed him. Smokeheart hissed and pushed him down, his claws digging into his fur. Dustfur widened his eyes. He shot up, throwing Smokeheart off. He stood up and shook out his fur, and Dustfur was already leaving.

"We were denmates, Smokeheart. You are no honourable warrior, attacking your own clanmate," he hissed. The white tom glared at him as he left. He walked through the forest, licking his wound. Now he knew for sure Smokeheart wanted Emberpaw. But it wasn't his choice. Emberpaw was her own cat. He spat in disgust and continued on to camp.