Moss and Heather Chapter 1
Aug 15, 2015 12:42:59 GMT -5
Post by ~Hollyspark~ on Aug 15, 2015 12:42:59 GMT -5
Chapter 1
“Come on, Heather, let’s play!” Moss mewed impatiently. “Don’t be a-”
“Play nice, kits,” Feather interrupted before he could finish.
“I already told you,” meowed Heather. “I’m practicing hunting. You should too, unless you want to skip dinner tonight.”
“I don’t want to hear ya’ll argue all night!” Feather snapped. “Don’t make me have to remind ya’ll again. And Heather, I already caught dinner. There is plenty of food here in the barn. Go and play with your brother and leave me in peace.”
“Yay!” Moss exclaimed. “We will! Come on, let’s go play Mouse! You can be the mouse first.”
Heather sighed but went to hide behind a haystack. The scuttling of mice tempted her, but she stayed still. Her pale coat blended in with the hay.
“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called.
Heather looked towards the entrance of the barn. A beautiful tortoiseshell she-cat with bright green eyes stepped in. A scar ran along her left cheek. Somehow she looked familiar, but Heather didn't remember ever meeting her.
Feather stepped forward, hackles raised, stepping protectively in front of Moss. “You are no longer welcome here, Dappledstar,” she hissed.
Dappledstar dipped her head. “I understand, but I came here to offer you something.”
“And what is that?”
“Don’t you have another kit? Where is she?”
Feather stiffened. “You do not need to know. The kits are safe here.” She paused. “At least, they are safer than they were among the Clan cats.”
Heather stepped out from behind the haystack. “I’m here.” She felt that this strange cat should know she was here.
“What beautiful and strong kits you have,” Dappledstar continued. “What an asset they would be to ThunderClan.” She gestured towards Moss. “He looks like he would make a decent fighter.”
“Never!” Feather spat.
“Very well,” Dappledstar mewed. “Just know that ya’ll are always welcome in ThunderClan.” With that, she left.
A couple moons past, with no sign of Dappledstar. Moss was eight moons old, and Heather was six.
“I’m so bored,” Heather grumbled. “There’s nothing to do around here.”
Moss walked in carrying a vole in his mouth. “You could go hunting,” he suggested.
Feather glanced outside. “It’s almost sunset,” she argued.
“Come on, please? I’ll make it quick!” Heather pleaded.
“Okay, but you must be careful,” Feather mewed anxiously. “The Twolegs let their dogs out at night. And don’t wander too far into the forest. If you smell another cat, go the other direction. I don’t want one of my kits getting hurt.”
“I’ll go with her and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble,” Moss promised.
Heather swatted at him playfully. “Yeah right! I’m going to be the one stopping you from wandering off!”
“Just go, before nighttime arrives!” Feather hissed rather harshly. They were slightly taken aback.
Feathers eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want any of you getting hurt,” she purred, gently licking their ears.
Heather felt a glimmer of sympathy for her mother, worrying about them so much. “Don’t worry,” she mewed. “We’ll be careful.”
She turned around and headed out the barn. The cool breeze ran through her short fur. Moss bounded alongside her.
Heather looked back to see her mother’s bright blue eyes glowing in the fading light, watching them until they disappeared out of sight.
They walked along the edge of the forest, listening for the sounds of prey.
Moss lightly touched Heather with his tail-tip. He twitched his ears towards the direction of a rabbit, who was nibbling on something.
Heather crouched low to the ground, tail raised slightly, silently stalking the rabbit.
A bark startled her, and she jumped, rustling some of the grass. The rabbit bounded away.
Heather gave chase, the wind blowing her whiskers back. She was slowly overtaking it. Suddenly the rabbit ducked down into a hole.
She suddenly stopped, looking down into darkness. The footsteps of the rabbit echoed through the tunnel. After hesitating for a moment, she decided to go in. She would not go back to the barn empty pawed.
She squeezed through, barely fitting. A surge of panic washed over her. What if she couldn’t get out? What if she was stuck in the darkness forever? The suffocating darkness surrounded her. Some dust got in her nose.
“Moss?” She called out. “Moss, where are you?”
“Heather?” A fearful meow came out. “Heather, stay down there!”
“What is it?”
No answer.
Scared, Heather backed out of the tunnel. As soon as she was fully out, something heavy landed on top of her. It’s claws dug into her fur.
A yowl sounded, and the weight lifted. She looked up to see a fox and Moss circling each other. Moss lashed out, hissing. The fox jumped back.
A dog’s bark sounded from behind her. Heather turned around, ready to fight, but the dog didn’t attack. It just looked at the fox, pointing with his head towards the cats and barked again.
The fox turned around to look at the dog. Moss was too surprised to take the advantage and get the fox.
The fox barked. It almost looked like it was nodding.
A Twoleg whistle sounded. The dog turned and ran towards its master.
The fox turned back to Heather and Moss, its lips curling in a snarl.
“You take the back and distract him. I’ll go for it’s head,” Heather whispered. Moss nodded and jumped towards its tail.
Heather jumped at the front. Too late, she realized that the fox was not at all distracted by Moss. In fact, it had merely shaken him off.
She was in midair when the fox turned around and slashed at her exposed belly.
A blinding pain washed over Heather. She fell to the ground. Her belly felt like it was on fire.
“Heather!” Moss cried. His meow sounded far away and distant.
***
Moss looked in shock at Heather’s small body. She was still awake, but it looked like she was about to slip away into unconsciousness.
Or death. The thought nagged in his head.
No, it couldn’t have been that serious.
Or could it have?
It’s all my fault. He should've tried again after the fox shook him off, or maybe gotten it when it was distracted by the dog.
The sound of the fox shook him out of his thoughts. He unsheathed his claws, digging them into the ground. The fox was going to pay for this.
Just before he could strike, meows came from the distance. The fox ran off.
Figures came into view. It was five cats. The one in front was a dark tabby tom with amber eyes.
“Help!” Moss meowed desperately. “It’s my sister. A fox attacked.
“Then you’re lucky we came,” the cat in front mewed. “Get Mapletail,” he murmured to one of the other cats.
“But is she going to be okay?” he asked anxiously.
The tom shrugged. “I’ve seen Mapletail work wonders before. I doubt this is any different.” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Where are you from? We usually wouldn’t allow rogues in our territory.”
Moss bristled. “We’re not rogues. We’re-” he suddenly remembered when he had asked Feather, “What are we?” when she had told him about the Clan cats, vicious rogues, kittypets who rely on Twolegs, and loners who were indifferent about the Clans, who had no other cat to love, really. She had said that we were barn cats.
“-We’re barn cats,” he finished.
His ears perked up. “Barn cats? What is your name?”
Moss lashed his tail. “Can we just get on with it? My sister could be dying right now, and you’re asking me personal questions while everyone else is just standing here. And my mother thinks that we’re just out hunting and none of this ever happened.” His voice was steadily growing louder. “And just when she trusts us to go out at sunset and come back with some food, we get attacked. And now she’s probably out looking for us with that fox still out there, and what if she gets attacked too? Can I just see this Mapletail you’re talking about, because I need to go and tell my mother what happened.”
Despite all this, the cat gave a mrrow of laughter. “Keep your fur down, Mapletail’s coming. She’s the medicine cat of ThunderClan. My name’s Birchstripe, by the way.”
Just then a tan she-cat came out of the undergrowth. “Tigerfur said you needed me,” she meowed. Her gaze flickered from Heather to Moss. “What happened?”
“There was a fox,” Birchstripe answered. “When we get these cats back to ThunderClan, I suggest we send out a patrol to track it down.”
Mapletail nodded. “We should move her immediately.” she flicked her tail towards Heather.
“Then I need to go tell Feather what happened,” Moss added. He felt a prickle of dread.
“Yes, go ahead and do that,” Birchstripe agreed.
As Moss walked on the path back to the barn, his feeling of dread grew. What would Feather say? He had promised her that he would look after Heather.
Finally he reached the barn. Feather was waiting at the entrance, her eyes wide worry.
“Where were you?” she asked as soon as Moss reached the entrance. “And where is Heather? What happened?”
Moss took a deep breath. “A fox attacked and hurt her. I had no idea what to do but then some ThunderClan cats came and the medicine cat and took her back to wherever they live. I think we should probably go back there, at least until she’s better.”
“Is she okay?” Feather whispered. It looked like she was still trying to comprehend what Moss had just told her.
“I’m pretty sure.” Guilt stabbed him like a thorn. “I’m really sorry. I told you I would make sure she wouldn’t get into any trouble…”
Feather acted like she didn’t hear him. “We need to go to the camp,” she decided.
Moss’s paws were getting tired, but he didn’t complain as they ran through the forest, Feather leading the way. She seemed to know where she was going.
They finally stopped at what appeared to be brambles blocking their way. She squeezed through a little hole. Moss gasped as he went through. A large hollow unfolded beneath him. Cats milled around, some pausing to look up at them.
Birchstripe bounded up to them and touched noses with Feather. “It’s so good to see you!” he purred.
“I have missed you so much!” she exclaimed.
Birchstripe turned back to Moss. “Welcome to the ThunderClan camp.”
“Come on, Heather, let’s play!” Moss mewed impatiently. “Don’t be a-”
“Play nice, kits,” Feather interrupted before he could finish.
“I already told you,” meowed Heather. “I’m practicing hunting. You should too, unless you want to skip dinner tonight.”
“I don’t want to hear ya’ll argue all night!” Feather snapped. “Don’t make me have to remind ya’ll again. And Heather, I already caught dinner. There is plenty of food here in the barn. Go and play with your brother and leave me in peace.”
“Yay!” Moss exclaimed. “We will! Come on, let’s go play Mouse! You can be the mouse first.”
Heather sighed but went to hide behind a haystack. The scuttling of mice tempted her, but she stayed still. Her pale coat blended in with the hay.
“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called.
Heather looked towards the entrance of the barn. A beautiful tortoiseshell she-cat with bright green eyes stepped in. A scar ran along her left cheek. Somehow she looked familiar, but Heather didn't remember ever meeting her.
Feather stepped forward, hackles raised, stepping protectively in front of Moss. “You are no longer welcome here, Dappledstar,” she hissed.
Dappledstar dipped her head. “I understand, but I came here to offer you something.”
“And what is that?”
“Don’t you have another kit? Where is she?”
Feather stiffened. “You do not need to know. The kits are safe here.” She paused. “At least, they are safer than they were among the Clan cats.”
Heather stepped out from behind the haystack. “I’m here.” She felt that this strange cat should know she was here.
“What beautiful and strong kits you have,” Dappledstar continued. “What an asset they would be to ThunderClan.” She gestured towards Moss. “He looks like he would make a decent fighter.”
“Never!” Feather spat.
“Very well,” Dappledstar mewed. “Just know that ya’ll are always welcome in ThunderClan.” With that, she left.
A couple moons past, with no sign of Dappledstar. Moss was eight moons old, and Heather was six.
“I’m so bored,” Heather grumbled. “There’s nothing to do around here.”
Moss walked in carrying a vole in his mouth. “You could go hunting,” he suggested.
Feather glanced outside. “It’s almost sunset,” she argued.
“Come on, please? I’ll make it quick!” Heather pleaded.
“Okay, but you must be careful,” Feather mewed anxiously. “The Twolegs let their dogs out at night. And don’t wander too far into the forest. If you smell another cat, go the other direction. I don’t want one of my kits getting hurt.”
“I’ll go with her and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble,” Moss promised.
Heather swatted at him playfully. “Yeah right! I’m going to be the one stopping you from wandering off!”
“Just go, before nighttime arrives!” Feather hissed rather harshly. They were slightly taken aback.
Feathers eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want any of you getting hurt,” she purred, gently licking their ears.
Heather felt a glimmer of sympathy for her mother, worrying about them so much. “Don’t worry,” she mewed. “We’ll be careful.”
She turned around and headed out the barn. The cool breeze ran through her short fur. Moss bounded alongside her.
Heather looked back to see her mother’s bright blue eyes glowing in the fading light, watching them until they disappeared out of sight.
They walked along the edge of the forest, listening for the sounds of prey.
Moss lightly touched Heather with his tail-tip. He twitched his ears towards the direction of a rabbit, who was nibbling on something.
Heather crouched low to the ground, tail raised slightly, silently stalking the rabbit.
A bark startled her, and she jumped, rustling some of the grass. The rabbit bounded away.
Heather gave chase, the wind blowing her whiskers back. She was slowly overtaking it. Suddenly the rabbit ducked down into a hole.
She suddenly stopped, looking down into darkness. The footsteps of the rabbit echoed through the tunnel. After hesitating for a moment, she decided to go in. She would not go back to the barn empty pawed.
She squeezed through, barely fitting. A surge of panic washed over her. What if she couldn’t get out? What if she was stuck in the darkness forever? The suffocating darkness surrounded her. Some dust got in her nose.
“Moss?” She called out. “Moss, where are you?”
“Heather?” A fearful meow came out. “Heather, stay down there!”
“What is it?”
No answer.
Scared, Heather backed out of the tunnel. As soon as she was fully out, something heavy landed on top of her. It’s claws dug into her fur.
A yowl sounded, and the weight lifted. She looked up to see a fox and Moss circling each other. Moss lashed out, hissing. The fox jumped back.
A dog’s bark sounded from behind her. Heather turned around, ready to fight, but the dog didn’t attack. It just looked at the fox, pointing with his head towards the cats and barked again.
The fox turned around to look at the dog. Moss was too surprised to take the advantage and get the fox.
The fox barked. It almost looked like it was nodding.
A Twoleg whistle sounded. The dog turned and ran towards its master.
The fox turned back to Heather and Moss, its lips curling in a snarl.
“You take the back and distract him. I’ll go for it’s head,” Heather whispered. Moss nodded and jumped towards its tail.
Heather jumped at the front. Too late, she realized that the fox was not at all distracted by Moss. In fact, it had merely shaken him off.
She was in midair when the fox turned around and slashed at her exposed belly.
A blinding pain washed over Heather. She fell to the ground. Her belly felt like it was on fire.
“Heather!” Moss cried. His meow sounded far away and distant.
***
Moss looked in shock at Heather’s small body. She was still awake, but it looked like she was about to slip away into unconsciousness.
Or death. The thought nagged in his head.
No, it couldn’t have been that serious.
Or could it have?
It’s all my fault. He should've tried again after the fox shook him off, or maybe gotten it when it was distracted by the dog.
The sound of the fox shook him out of his thoughts. He unsheathed his claws, digging them into the ground. The fox was going to pay for this.
Just before he could strike, meows came from the distance. The fox ran off.
Figures came into view. It was five cats. The one in front was a dark tabby tom with amber eyes.
“Help!” Moss meowed desperately. “It’s my sister. A fox attacked.
“Then you’re lucky we came,” the cat in front mewed. “Get Mapletail,” he murmured to one of the other cats.
“But is she going to be okay?” he asked anxiously.
The tom shrugged. “I’ve seen Mapletail work wonders before. I doubt this is any different.” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Where are you from? We usually wouldn’t allow rogues in our territory.”
Moss bristled. “We’re not rogues. We’re-” he suddenly remembered when he had asked Feather, “What are we?” when she had told him about the Clan cats, vicious rogues, kittypets who rely on Twolegs, and loners who were indifferent about the Clans, who had no other cat to love, really. She had said that we were barn cats.
“-We’re barn cats,” he finished.
His ears perked up. “Barn cats? What is your name?”
Moss lashed his tail. “Can we just get on with it? My sister could be dying right now, and you’re asking me personal questions while everyone else is just standing here. And my mother thinks that we’re just out hunting and none of this ever happened.” His voice was steadily growing louder. “And just when she trusts us to go out at sunset and come back with some food, we get attacked. And now she’s probably out looking for us with that fox still out there, and what if she gets attacked too? Can I just see this Mapletail you’re talking about, because I need to go and tell my mother what happened.”
Despite all this, the cat gave a mrrow of laughter. “Keep your fur down, Mapletail’s coming. She’s the medicine cat of ThunderClan. My name’s Birchstripe, by the way.”
Just then a tan she-cat came out of the undergrowth. “Tigerfur said you needed me,” she meowed. Her gaze flickered from Heather to Moss. “What happened?”
“There was a fox,” Birchstripe answered. “When we get these cats back to ThunderClan, I suggest we send out a patrol to track it down.”
Mapletail nodded. “We should move her immediately.” she flicked her tail towards Heather.
“Then I need to go tell Feather what happened,” Moss added. He felt a prickle of dread.
“Yes, go ahead and do that,” Birchstripe agreed.
As Moss walked on the path back to the barn, his feeling of dread grew. What would Feather say? He had promised her that he would look after Heather.
Finally he reached the barn. Feather was waiting at the entrance, her eyes wide worry.
“Where were you?” she asked as soon as Moss reached the entrance. “And where is Heather? What happened?”
Moss took a deep breath. “A fox attacked and hurt her. I had no idea what to do but then some ThunderClan cats came and the medicine cat and took her back to wherever they live. I think we should probably go back there, at least until she’s better.”
“Is she okay?” Feather whispered. It looked like she was still trying to comprehend what Moss had just told her.
“I’m pretty sure.” Guilt stabbed him like a thorn. “I’m really sorry. I told you I would make sure she wouldn’t get into any trouble…”
Feather acted like she didn’t hear him. “We need to go to the camp,” she decided.
Moss’s paws were getting tired, but he didn’t complain as they ran through the forest, Feather leading the way. She seemed to know where she was going.
They finally stopped at what appeared to be brambles blocking their way. She squeezed through a little hole. Moss gasped as he went through. A large hollow unfolded beneath him. Cats milled around, some pausing to look up at them.
Birchstripe bounded up to them and touched noses with Feather. “It’s so good to see you!” he purred.
“I have missed you so much!” she exclaimed.
Birchstripe turned back to Moss. “Welcome to the ThunderClan camp.”
