Runaway [Warriors Fanfiction]

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Sunshine poured through the gaps in the bramble den, sneaking its way past Cinderbrook's eyelids and slowly awakening her drowsy form. She sat up, blinking blearily, and stretched, scanning the area before her. The spacious warriors' den was vacant of her Clanmates, and she realized with a stab of dread that she must've slept in too late.

Forcing her blue-gray tabby head into the blinding daylight, she stole a glance at the barely-rising sun. So she hadn't slept late. If so, what was everyone doing out of their nests? She spotted a massive cluster of cats huddled around the entrance of the camp. Cinderbrook shoved her way through the crowd, eventually making it to the front where she saw her Clanmate, Hawkberry, dragging the limp body of a young and unfamiliar light brown she-cat into the clearing.

"What's going on?" She asked the nearest cat.

A cream she-cat––her friend Dawnpool, she realized––answered. "Spoils of war. She's a prisoner from the Owl Family."

"A prisoner?" Cinderbrook charged, her surprise audible. "What for?"

"Beats me," Dawnpool replied with a twitch of her whiskers. "Ransom, maybe? Though I'm not sure what the Owls would have to offer us in exchange for the apprentice."

"Listen up, everyone!" Frostshade, the deputy, called out. The muttering crowd fell silent under her authoritative stare. "This young cat is now our hostage. Until the Owls make us an offer, we are free to do with her what we please. She will act as a servant to anyone in need. Your only limitation is to keep her alive."

The crowd dispersed, and Cinderbrook frowned at the few apprentices who remained towering over the young she-cat. Finchpaw, Gravelpaw, and Sorrelpaw took turns prodding and taunting her until she stirred, letting out a small groan of discomfort.

"Hey, you!" Gravelpaw snorted. "Go fetch us some prey."

When she didn't move, Finchpaw stepped in. "You heard him. Get up!"

She remained motionless.

"Worthless flea-brain." Sorrelpaw mocked, forcefully whacking her unsheathed claws against the side of the she-cat's head.

Cinderbrook shook her head to clear it. What was she doing, just standing there and watching? Without hesitation, she strode up to the arrogant apprentices.

"You three, get lost."

Gravelpaw scoffed. "Frostshade said we can do whatever we want with her."

"She's barely awake," she countered. "Just leave her be for now. Don't you have duties to attend to? If not, I'm sure I can arrange for you to clean the elders' den."

The trio exchanged bitter glances and slunk away, leaving her with the flimsy prisoner. Cinderbrook studied her tattered pale brown pelt, noticing a few distinct gashes that still oozed a weak trickle of blood. The rest of her fur was matted down with mud, most likely from being dragged into camp. As she fixed her yellow-green gaze on the young feline, the captive's flank heaved suddenly, and she released a flurry of hoarse coughs.

"Good morning," Cinderbrook greeted as warmly as possible.

The she-cat blinked up at her several times, dark green eyes clouded with confusion. "Where... am I?" She wondered weakly.

"LichenClan," Cinderbrook answered. "Can you stand? You shouldn't lie around where cats can step on you."

She pushed herself shakily to her paws. "How did I get here?"

Cinderbrook sighed, leading her to a secluded spot on the far side of the camp. "To put it bluntly, you were taken as a hostage from the Owl Family. You're supposed to be a servant here until your family makes an offer to exchange you back."

"What?" She asked, eyes widening in disbelief. "A servant?"

"I'm afraid so."

Her ears flattened to her skull and dismay swelled in her voice. "B-but... LichenClan just waged war on my family. Few of us were left alive. We have nothing that we could possibly offer your Clan."

"I'm sorry," Cinderbrook muttered, staring at her paws. "I wish it were different." She looked up and at the troubled apprentice, suddenly determined to brighten her spirits. "What's your name? I'm Cinderbrook."

"Hazelpaw."

"Well, Hazelpaw, though I'd be punished instantly for conspiring with the Owls to help bring you back, there is something I can do for you."

"Really?" Hazelpaw's green eyes lightened. "You'll help me?"

Cinderbrook nodded. "As best I can. Have you heard about our leader, Aspenstar?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"He's my father," she replied, "meaning most cats will listen to me. Now I won't be able to get you out of servitude, but I'll at least be able to halt any mistreatment done by my Clanmates."

Hazelpaw searched Cinderbrook's resolute expression as if looking for some sort of fallacy. "You can do that?"

"Indeed."

"But... your Clan seems so harsh to outsiders. Why are you so nice?"

Cinderbrook twitched her whiskers. "I don't share my Clan's view."

"May I ask why?"

"I suppose," the tabby responded. "When I was an apprentice, my best friend, Flashpaw, fell ill. Our territory lacked the herbs required to treat his sickness, but my father refused to ask any outsiders for assistance. He said it made us weak."

"Oh no," Hazelpaw mewed with alarm.

Cinderbrook continued. "But Flashpaw.. he was approaching death. So one night, I snuck away and visited the Heron Family. I explained the situation and they provided me with the proper herbs, claiming that they had plenty of their own and were happy to share with others in need. When I returned to camp, my father caught me attempting to slip the herbs to my friend."

"He did?"

"Yes, and he was furious. He ordered the herbs to be tossed into the stream and sentenced me to a moon of dawn patrols. By the end of that moon, Flashpaw was gone."

"I'm sorry." Hazelpaw's tone was true to her words.

"It's alright," Cinderbrook assured her. "I've moved on. But I knew that if my father had just accepted the help offered, Flashpaw would still be alive. So I disagree with the Clan when they say all outsiders are enemies. They're not. There are many friends to be made in this forest. So I'm willing to help you because I know that what my Clan is doing is wrong."

Hazelpaw released a soft purr, her tail-tip flicking with gratitude. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You're quite welcome, Hazelpaw," Cinderbrook told her. "Now, remember, if anyone lays a claw on you, let me know and they'll get an earful from me."

"I'll remember," the apprentice affirmed.

"Good," she said. "Now let's get you cleaned up, find you something to eat, and figure out where to make a nest for you."

The two trotted towards the fresh-kill pile, and Cinderbrook was grateful to finally be able to do something useful for another cat. Helping Hazelpaw would be the one thing she'd never regret.