sage | a warrior cats fanfiction

chapter forty seven

Adderheart stared down at the bird beneath him. Everything seemed to get worse and worse as days went on, but did he stop moving to consider anything that was going on? No. He couldn't. He had to keep going.

Even if his paw was ruined, he had to keep walking, to some degree. Unhappily plucking some feathers from the bird's figure, he took a bite of the meat beneath, finding it to taste almost stale as though it had been buried underground and saved. Maybe it had been.

His tail swished harshly as he peered around the clearing and he spotted Tawn entering the camp alongside Nova. The two had their heads tilted toward each other, murmurs quietly shared between them. The camp seemed to be waking up, with a few more cats slipping toward the center of camp.

Everyone seemed to group up into smaller sectors — it was as though groups of friends had been established and it would be impossible for him, the ex-Clanner, to fit in. A few older cats shuffled off to the side, and he noticed one of them was the tall slim silver tabby from before. The one who'd offered him herbs, he supposed; she herself had a few herbs pressed into what seemed to be wounds.

A small black-and-white striped she-cat trotted after the silver tabby, and the two of them shifted off to the side, tails swishing as they began to chatter quietly. He couldn't make out what they were saying. A tom of a sleek, sooty-toned pelt joined them, as well a pale sandy-yellow she-cat with many cobwebs plastered along her figure.

Yet, nearby, a small group gathered too. Sola and Salem were clearly situated toward the middle, with Sola rising seemingly taller than the others of the group as if to protect them. She was the oldest, it appeared. Wasari was seated with the group, as well as a small and skinny tortoiseshell with herbs littered across her pelt.

Near the entrance, a short-furred tortoiseshell sat, and a broad-shouldered tom pushed his way through the entrance. His long limbs carried him straight to the fresh-kill pile, and his dark brown pelt with white spiraling markings seemed to shine in the light of the early day. He dropped a mouse into the pile before seating himself down.

"Can everyone please come close? We have something to discuss."

Tawn's voice split the quiet murmurs of the clearing and Adderheart felt a familiar anxiety swirl within him. This is a Clan meeting. Except it's not a Clan. It's just a meeting. His ears twitched harshly as cats inched closer to her, facing the she-cat. So it won't be like Cougarstar's. It'll be different.

Nova was seated close to her mate, surveying the cats with an interested look in her gaze. She didn't seem to be the deputy, but more so an advisor to Tawn, and from what Adderheart could tell, the older group of cats would also help her at times.

They had inched a bit closer, as though to surround Tawn with cats that she knew wouldn't betray her. She offered a polite dip of her skull to them and they offered it back. The stocky tawn-furred she-cat then rose to her full height — which, while tall, was definitely not as tall as Cougarstar's or Pantherleap's, he reflected with a burst of sadness like a popped balloon filling him — and allowed her skull to dip.

...to the group?

The cats gathered around allowed their heads to bob in respectful response to her motion and she looked back to Adderheart. He shifted as her gaze landed and met his, and the pale-furred tom felt a chill run quickly down his spine.

She slightly nodded her skull to him and he, uncertainly, returned it; at this motion, he could see Nova smile for a half moment before it dissipated, and the leader allowed a small sparkle to enter her gaze before she focused back on the rest of the group.

"Thank you for gathering so quickly," she told them all with her skull momentarily lifted, looking at everyone. "I appreciate it."

Everyone murmured a "no problem" or a "you're welcome" in response