What if Mapleshade's kits lived

Chapter 15

Mapleshade held the panting down, sealing her mouth shut. She stalked quietly through the dense brush, thorns and nettles tearing at her already torn pelt, like claws. Pricking undergrowth surrounded her on all sides, like enclosing green cave, dim dreams of light narrowly breaking through the tiny slits among the ceiling of leaves. Beyond the leafy cover, the loud gushing loud of rushing water as she followed the gorge river. Spreading her weight evenly across her paws, she slipped under another bracken brach, trying to not make a sound. Her were tufted ears pricked and nostrils flared at every heartbeat, always on edge from the hoovering danger of a Riverclan patrol, feeling like helpless prey. Yet her fear was unwarranted, she'd was far past any Riverclan scent marks.

She shouldn't have put it past Appledusk to be hoovering around his old home like a pestering fly. Even after everything his clanmates had to do to him and his kits, the daft tom still flocked to the rivers, letting native nostalgia blind him. Her son and old mate's stale scent had brought her far up the gorge river. This far north up its banks meant it wasn't really inside a gorge anymore, instead the banks were more like small pebbly beaches, allowing the river to stretch out, now much wider. Yet somehow, it was much deader than further upstream as it burrowed it's way into Riverclan territory. The current was dragged along even faster as it approached the sheer drop off a tall cliff, to create a mighty waterfall. Which Mapleshade stared at in astonishment.

The torment of flowing water must have been height of the tallest of pines, endless foam and bubbles hissing at its base. And the roar it made was deafening. Despite wanting to wonder at it some more like a kit, she forced herself on, she came here for a far more important reason then sightseeing. If Bloomheart hadn't gone for Petal to avenge his mate, then that only left Patchkit and Appledusk. Luckily for her, smooth slabs on stone lay on the cliffside, making for an easy way up. Though annoyingly, it seemed to have been carved by Twolegs, that same shiny stone used to silver poles at the edge of each slab, probably so no overexcited twoleg kit went careening off the side. But Mapleshade reluctantly accepted the help of their structure, in a race against time.

As she stumbled the last of the way, up to the top, a small woodland come into view, wide spaces between the stumpy trees. Yet somehow, despite it being leafbare, the grass still glowed a bright green. Thick hedges bordered this sides of the field, not enough undergrowth for a flushing Thunderclan cat. Deciding to remain safe, she entered the maze of the jagged stones that lined the river's edge, smooth under the paw and creamy in colour. At last, the burden woodland made way for a long stretching patch of reeds, dead logs sticking out the ground like brown fangs. The tree surrenders to marshes, filled with dried bracken and moss covering the stony ground. Like a mix of Windclan and Riverclan territory. Finally the first sign of life, serval old fish bones scattered by the water's edge. Relief flooded over her, when scents lingering in the air were familiar, a strange mix of Thunderclan and Riverclan, even a bit of rouge forming.

Hissing to herself, Mapleshade considered ways to stop their pure scents from being corrupted, Petal was already a lost cause, unsure if she felt guilty or happy after ripping out her eye. The only one left was Patchkit, to fulfil her dreams of becoming the ultimate Clan cats. There were plenty of useless lumps of fur to kill off pests like mice and birds, but where was the pest control for cats? They would be the predators of cats, killing anyone who dared threatened them.

Following the trial, the signs of life only continued to grow, more bones and more scents, fresh and old alike. "Dad!", a familiar voice suddenly whaled out. Instantly, Mapleshade's head flung from the ground, searching the nearby shorelines. Sure enough, there was a large crashing of water as two cats plummeted into the deep waters.

Then relief flooded over her as the two cats resurfaced, a pale brown and Calcio head bobbing in the water, both failing to notice her yet from behind the wall of reeds. Irritation made her whiskers twitch, on how far they'd fallen since their days with her. They shouldn't let their guard ever, she hadn't even disguised her scent. If she were Bloomheart, then she could have easily snatched up Patchkit in the blink of an eye. The kit scrambled up the protruding stones, his pelt drooping with water, making him look like a long-hair cat. He perched on a narrow ledge, shelving, feeling sorry for himself. Without shouting, any words were impossible to make out from this distance, as the father and son continued to joke and laugh with each other.