WarriorCats 1: The New Clans

Chapter 20

Larkfeather paced the clearing, narrowing her amber eyes and lashing her tail angrily. The search parties had found nothing and were no steps further in finding her kit.

"Larkfeather, you have to calm down, you're upsetting the elders." Moltenstar mewed gently, standing in front of her, his silver eyes glinting in the dimming sunlight. He knew what she felt like, but the elders were complaining that she was unsettling them with her pacing and growling. Larkfeather sighed and stopped, lowering her eyes in sorrow.

"It's hard, Moltenstar, I've just lost the last of my kits. Brindlepaw ran away, Dewdrop's disappeared, and... And Shadowkit didn't make it. I'm a terrible mother to have lost all three, and you can't deny it." Larkfeather whispered sadly, dropping to the ground, head on paws.

"It'll be okay, Larkfeather. We'll find her." Moltenstar touched his nose to her shoulder comfortingly before striding away to his den. With a quiet huff, the she-cat hauled herself from the middle of the camp and into the Warrior's den. From the corner of her drooping eyes, she spotted the pale grey of Lilypaw, delicately picking her way between the beddings, and resting cats. She murmured 'sorry's and 'S'cuze me's as her paws bumped the Warriors who rumbled back a reply.

"Hi, Larkfeather." Lilpaw greeted cheerfully, trying to keep the mood up. "How are you?" She asked, laying down in front of her, stretching out her back legs as she strangely did to get to sleep. The apprentice flicked her tail, crawling closer, her almost lilac eyes scanning Larkfeather's face for emotion. The older she-cat grunted and turned her head away.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" She replied lazily, her ears flickering at the sounds created by muffled yawns and claw scratchings along the moss as cats dreamed.

"No." Lilpaw replied stubbornly, licking her paw and bring it softly down on her face. She cocked her head slightly, pricking her delicate ears. Larkfeather glanced past her to Moltenstar, who was nibbling the end of a mouse, before he took it to his den, picking his way up the loose rocks that led to his cave. "Can I sleep with you?" Lilypaw asked weakly, not meeting Larkfeather's eye.

"I would let you, but this is the Warrior's den sweetie. Why?" She asked softly, lifting her eyes to Lilypaw's.

"Okay, never mind. Goodnight, Larkfeather." The light grey she-cat sighed and walked out slowly, turning the corner to her own den. Jigsawpaw and Streampaw were in the same nest, cuddled up to each other with their tails curled around themselves, ears pricked and cheeks touching. A lump rose in her throat as she sat in the next nest, drooping her own tail over her sad eyes.

Dewdrop sat on a hill, staring down into the forest. She could only hope that was her own, so far into the distant where the trees were no longer visible. Her ears twitched at the sound of footsteps, crunching on a dry, dead leaf from behind. Spinning around, the ginger she cat narrowed her bright green eyes at a pale tom, who held a mouse clamped in his jaws. The tom looked slightly younger, and much more skittish than the others in this...Tribe. 

"I came to give you this, in-incase you were hungry." He mumbled, seeming scared of her. Dewdrop instantly felt sorry for him, but turned away.

"I don't need your food; I can catch my own, thank you very much." The cat snapped, digging her claws into the soft ground, scraping the wet surface as the tom gladly raced away. Saying that, Dewdrop was really hungry, and had no idea where to hunt ; there didn't even seem to be any animals around the Tribe. She went after a small rabbit, which immediately ran back down it's hole.

"You'll never catch a thing hunting like that." A tom said from behind her. He was white, with grey tabby stripes, a strong, well built form and a handsome face. His eyes matched hers, glowing emerald which sparkled brightly as he stepped out of the shadows from under a tree. Dewdrop gazed at him, her jaws parted slightly, ears pricked. She got her senses back with a shake of her head.

"Who are you to tell me how to hunt?" Dewdrop snarled , flattening her ginger ears. The tom walked closer. She hissed and lowered herself, backing away, but he still came closer. His eyes bore through her, and eventually she broke the gaze, turning her head to the ground.

"Echoheart." The tom said, relaxed. His silver stripes were strange against the white, and the green added to the mystical effect. Dewdrop's ears came up slightly as she heard his name, looking at him again. Her fur was ruffled and standing on edge, so she sat down and twisted to groom herself, flicking her tail as she did. Echoheart waited patiently.

"Dewdrop." The she-cat replied eventually, her eyes meeting his.

"I like your eyes." He complimented, not breaking the gaze.

"They're the same as yours."

"I know."

Dewdrop groaned and stalked back to the Tribe, her mind whirring. He may be a bit annoying, but she found she was already fond of him.

Echoheart tilted his head slightly when she left, smiling a small smile. He set off into the woods and returned only minutes later with a rabbit, dropping it in front of Dewdrop. He winked at her and slid past as Thornstar approached her. The leader halted behind the rabbit, staring directly at her. "Dewdrop. Have you made your decision yet?" He asked calmly, two other cats standing behind him as guards.

"My decision... About leaving my Clan? I told you, I can't." Dewdrop insisted, just wishing to be sent back to DawnClan as soon as possible.

"Yes you can, now are you staying or not?"

"No!"

"Take her." Thornstar's expression was blank and stoney as the two guards circled around and each snatched a side of her. The hauled her outside and growled, taking up their battle positions. Dewdrop's eyes widened in sudden fear as she realized they were going to kill her. She backed away, hissing a warning.

"Stay back!" Dewdrop yowled, narrowly missing one of them as he launched himself, claws first, at her. "Why are you attacking?! I didn't do anything!" She sped past one, bumping into the second. He snarled and lifted his paw, striking her sharply across her face, circling the wounded cat like vultures.

"You know too much." One hissed, his cold, hard eyes narrowed to slits.

"I don't know anything!"

"More than a day in the Tribe and you know everything. If you didn't join, Thornstar ordered us to kill."

"Well now I'm ordering you to stop." A dark voice growled from behind. Dewdrop couldn't look, but she recognized that annoying, beautiful voice.

"Echoheart, get out of the way or we kill you both."

"No, Lionclaw. You get out the way, or I'll kill you both." He snarled, his teeth coming into contact with Dewdrop's scruff. He dragged her carefully into the forest and lay her down for a moment to talk. "Go back to Thornstar. Say she escaped, and I chased her. I'll return the next day, say I got her and we move on. Go!" Echoheart picked Dewdrop's scruff up, circling the camp subtly and heading to the mountain. He knew her Clan was over it, in the other forest, but there was no way he could take her so far unconscious. So the tom stopped after a few hours heaving and guiding the she-cat up the rocky mountains. He dropped her next to a mountain river, soaking his unusual fur in the water, splashing her gently with the cool clear liquid.

Dewdrop woke in the middle of the night, huddled in a cave, surrounding by wet moss, which she licked, thirsty. Her face still hurt, bad, but she felt something on it, something wet and soft. She wiped it off with her paw, finding a slug. In disgust, Dewdrop leapt up, cleaning her face on the moss.

"The slug was there on purpose you know. Slug slime helps to heal cuts." Echoheart mewed, laying a mouse in front of her. "Your Clan's on the other side of the mountain. I need to go. But hurry, they patrol these mountains. Be careful getting down, this place is crawling with cougars and wild dogs." He covered his paws and mouth in the mouse blood, letting it dry a little before he set off back to his hidden camp.

Dewdrop frowned and looked down. She gulped and turned to talk to Echoheart, finding him gone. How was she suppose to get down? Jump for it? Backing away from the edge, the she-cat whimpered, crouching in the cave again. She replaced the slug, gagging as it slid across her wounds and back.  Glancing back over the edge, she spotting a small, jutting-out ledge and found a route down to it, gripping the sides as she let herself dangle, sheathing her claws as she did. Dewdrop landed on her side, winded, but got up. This was going to be the longest journey she'd ever been on.