Thistle's Mistake

Chapter two

"What about my collar? I can't hunt if it keeps scaring off all of the prey." Thistle slid his paw underneath of the blue collar around his neck.
"Maybe Birch can help, I heard she has the sharpest claws." Nutmeg lead the way to Birch's den.
"Maybe." Thistle followed Nutmeg, her tail hung high as always. Birch was inside her den due to the faint layer of snow on the ground. It had been a bit over half a moon since Nutmeg had found him. Living the life of a kittypet was so boring, how did I ever stand it? Maybe that's why Bailey told me to keep my name instead of  changing it to whatever the twoleg's decided. He probably knew I wouldn't like it there for much longer.

"Hey Birch, can you help us with something?" Nutmeg asked, Thistle stood back a bit, but not to far. He didn't want Birch or Nutmeg to know that he was a bit timid of the quick tempered she-cat.
"What?" Birch snapped from inside her den.
"Can you help us get Thistle's collar off of him, so he can hunt easier?" Nutmeg hit the noisy part of his collar.
"Let me see what I can do."  The beat up she-cat growled, making Thistle a bit uncomfortable. He shifted his weight between his paws as Birch came out of her den. "Lay down, so I can rip it off easier." As Thistle obeyed, an odd smirk drifted across Birch's face for a heartbeat. Thistle's heart beat became quicker as Birch placed her paw on Thistle's shoulder, close to his neck. Birch grabbed the back of the collar. "Ready?" Birch mumbled in a snarl. Before Thistle could even think about responding, Birch pulled back hard on the collar. Thistle let out a choked cough as he tensed up, fighting for a breath. It didn't help any that Birch was yanking one way, then quickly changing to the other way.

"Lay still!" Birch hissed, her claws sank into his shoulders as she tried to keep him squirming.
"Birch your choking him!" Thistle barely heard Nutmeg's plead. Birch yanked harder. Thistle's vision started to spin as it started to fade to blackness.
"It's no use." Birch let go of the collar. Thistle coughed as he gasped in air.
"You could've killed him!"
"I didn't know I was choking him! We should try again later, maybe we can get it then." Birch looked at Thistle, happily? Why did she think that was fun! I was choking! Thistle thought to himself. Birch walked back into her den when Thistle stood up.
"Are you okay?" Nutmeg asked franticly, her hazel eyes filled with shock. Thistle only nodded his head, still trying to steady his breathing.

"Let's find something else to get it off." Thistle told Nutmeg after he caught his breath.
"Maybe another cat-."
"That's If we can't get if off after trying everything else." Thistle was barley aware of what he was saying until he said it. He wished he hadn't used such a harsh tone too. Maybe something in the forest could get it off. After telling Nutmeg his idea, they headed off into the woods.

"Maybe we can get the noisy part off, instead if the entire collar?" Nutmeg suggested.
"We can try, but eventually we'll have to get the collar too." Thistle was losing hope on getting the stupid thing off. Anything that had come to mind, even running through thorns. He was still finding thorns in his pelt!

"Are you sure this will work?" Thistle asked Nutmeg, the she-cat had suggested that he run through a bush of thorns, in hopes of ripping the collar off.
"I think so." Nutmeg led him to a large cluster of thorns. Some of them where larger than his own claws.
"If you think so, I'll go through." After Nutmeg nodded, Thistle closed his eyes and darted in after a drawn out sigh. He fought to hiss out in pain, but kept it to a near silent hiss. He saw a large vine of thorns. If any vine here will get it off of me, this will be it! With another sigh, he pushed up too it, feeling lumps of fur being pulled from his pelt. He drug his face near it, it slid down his neck and caught on his collar. Success! He thought.

Without thinking Thistle pulled hard on the tendrils, with a screamed hiss, he tried tried to back out of the thorns.
"What's going on?"some cat said, Thistle didn't know who it was, or at least he didn't recognize his voice.
"I thought sending Thistle into thorns will get his collar off of him." Thistle heard Nutmeg's worried-tinged voice.
"Thistle! Don't go back, keep going forward!" The tom's mew was oddly joyful, even though it was kind of stressed. Listening to the tom, Thistle screwed up his eyes and pending his ears back before pushing ahead. Fighting the urge to hiss in agony, thorns tugged at his face. Hitting his eyes, whipping his nose and nearly tripping him.
"Jack what are you doing to these kits!" Another tom called out. Thistle opened his eyes slighting, thankful that the thorns where coming to an end.
"I'm trying to help them! There's a kit in the thorns, so I was helping him out!" The first tom, probably named Jack, called out to who Thistle presume to be his friend. Thistle pushed his back legs hard against the ground, busting out of the Thorn's vicious grasp.

"Are you okay Thistle?" Nutmeg was at his side in a heart beat. Opening his eyes he saw Nutmeg, a green eyed, fluffy brown tabby tom with a collar on with some green thing on it and a leopard spotted tom with deep brown eyes.
"Did you really put a that kit into those thorns? Haven't you learned your lesson with them yet?" The leopard spotted cat asked the tabby tom.
"No! I just found him wailing in there!" The tabby called to his friend. Thistle sat down, pulling thorns out of his short pelt. The two toms playfully bickered at each other, in which, Thistle found out that the tabby was Jack and the leopard spotted tom was Named Mark.

Sadly, neither Jack or mark had any ideas about how to get the collar off. Nutmeg looked around, finding low hanging stick that was broken off of a pine tree.
"Come over here!" Nutmeg said in her usual cheerful tone. Thistle padded over before stopping half way to dig another thorn out of his pelt. Nutmeg responded with another 'sorry' as she had been saying every time he found a new one.
"It's alright, we didn't know any better." Thistle padded over to where the calico she-cat stood.
"Get closer, like that! Now give me a moment to hook this on to the branch." Thistle stood up as high as he could, looming over the broken stick. "Okay, try pulling now." Thistle stood flatly on his paw. With out much thought, he put his grey tabby front paws up on the tree. He adjusted his footing before pushing against the loose pine bark. He felt tension on the back of his neck, but it didn't choke him like he thought it would.

After pushing as hard as he could with his front legs, he decided to try an put his front legs on the tree. Thistle felt his collar hold some of his weight, after testing it for a heartbeat, he quickly placed one of his back legs on the trunk, followed by the other one. He pushed at the stump. Thistle's heart skipped a beat as he felt the collar quickly loosen. He tumbled back, landing on his neck and rolled clumsily down a small slope.

"Are you okay?" Nutmeg said in a slight chuckle. Thistle looked up at her dizzily. Her hazel eyes glowing in the evening sun.
"I think so, but it worked!" Thistle didn't hear the annoying sound as he rolled over to stand up, although he still felt the collar rub against his neck. Thistle took a glance at the tree, seeing a shiny ball lay in the turned up dirt. With a smirk across his face, Thistle padded up the small slope and up to the small, shiny ball. He looked ahead, making sure he wouldn't hit a cat. With an aimed blow, he sent the ball flying. It raddled when it hit the dirt.