“I saw it again,” Emberpaw said, the tip of his tail twitching. “The ghost cat.”
“Ghosts don’t exist, Emberpaw. You saw a normal cat.”
“StarClan exists. Wouldn’t ghosts also exist?”
Bunny didn’t answer. She was picking at her prey, a squirrel that had practically fallen right into Emberpaw’s claws. He was sure it was already half-dead, but he wouldn’t complain. Anything was welcome when he was the only one bringing home food.
“Are you feeling any better?” Emberpaw prompted, watching closely as Bunny chewed apathetically on the squirrel’s haunch. They were sitting in their thistle clearing, the late greenleaf sun pleasantly warming the prairie. A hummingbird flitted to a cluster of honeysuckle, but Emberpaw didn’t have the heart to try and catch what was barely a mouthful.
“I’ll be fine,” Bunny replied shortly. “You need to eat more than me.”
“I already ate,” Emberpaw said quickly. “Finish that squirrel, and then I’ll groom your pelt.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I didn’t.” Emberpaw lied.
Bunny glared reproachfully, and Emberpaw repressed a shiver, feeling as if her yellow eyes were piercing into his very soul. After a moment, however, she sighed and took another bite of the squirrel. “At least make sure you’re still doing your exercises. Your jumping is still horrible.”
“You’re sick and still have time to insult me?”
“It’s not insulting; it’s training.”
“Is there a difference to you?”
“No.”
Emberpaw snorted in amusement. He was glad to see Bunny hadn’t changed even when she was too sick to get up. “Fine. I’ll go practice jumping over the pond. If I fall in, I’ll come over there and shake off right next to you.”
Bunny eyed Emberpaw with distrust. “If you get me wet, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” He didn’t believe her for a second.
“That’s truly terrifying.” Before waiting for Bunny to reply, Emberpaw trotted up to the thistle barrier and crouched down before springing upward. Though he couldn’t move as fast or jump as high as Bunny, he could at least clear the thorn-filled thicket that protected their camp. It had been necessary to learn, as the only other way through involved a cat dragging themselves through the thistles because there was no actual entrance. Bunny had insisted on it for safety.
Crazy old she-cat, Emberpaw thought as he took in the sights of the prairie. It was beautiful – a sea of grass and flowers as far as the eye could see. Far in the distance, Emberpaw could see the brown-gray smudge where the grass slowly gave way to shrubland and then desert. For a moment, he thought of his old home. Daypaw and Sunpaw would probably be out hunting with their mentors by now. Would Sootfeather and Nightlight be gossiping? Would Daypaw be taking care of Sunpaw still? Would… Enough. Emberpaw closed his eyes and pushed those ideas from his mind. ScorchedClan had abandoned him to the chasm, and he would never return to them. Even though it hurt, and it hurt so dearly, he couldn’t go back.
With a deep breath, Emberpaw opened his eyes again and focused on the prairie. This was his home now, and he had someone to take care of. He couldn’t dwell on the past.
Though the prairie was filled with prey, Emberpaw knew he didn’t have the skill to catch even a fraction. Instead, he would have to focus on what he had the possibility of cornering or surprising. As he picked up the pace and began to trot through the waving grass, his mind turned to the underground burrows. Prairie dogs, rabbits, and rodents of all sorts lived underneath and would only occasionally surface for food. Once, while watching a coyote, Emberpaw had seen it dig up a gopher’s nest. He had copied it, though his nose wasn’t as sharp and his nails weren’t as strong as the coyote, so he often failed to get anything.
Deciding on digging, Emberpaw set to tracking. He opened his mouth to scent the air, but there was nothing but flowers. Maybe the bison will pass this way again. It was dangerous to hang around such behemoths, but when they ran, they would scare prey out of their burrows, making for an easy meal. His stomach rumbled as he thought of a fresh gopher, but he forced the idea down and decided to set off for a small stream that animals would often come to drink at.
Unluckily, however, Emberpaw came to the stream and could smell the distinct tang of rabbit blood. Haredung, he thought crossly. Someone else had gotten there before him, and no prey would wander over to the water now. He peeked around a strand of cattails, trying to see if there were at least any leftovers he could take away. Coyotes and wolves often shredded their prey and would leave scraps for scavengers like him to find.
To Emberpaw’s surprise, it wasn’t a coyote or even a badger. It was a silvery-white tomcat who was licking his blood-speckled paw. He froze, his heart suddenly beginning to pound. That’s the ghost cat! Bunny had been right – it wasn’t a ghost at all. But what was he doing on Emberpaw and Bunny’s territory? Though they weren’t a Clan like ScorchedClan, the duo marked the borders of their small patch of land almost daily, and most other rogues were polite enough to respect the markers.
The silver tom suddenly looked over, and his icy blue eyes met Emberpaw’s. They stared at each other for a long moment before Emberpaw jumped and sprinted off, feeling the fur on the back of his neck prickle. I should go get the warriors so they can deal with… He stopped short as the thought crossed his mind. No warriors were waiting for him back home, just a sick Bunny. Taking a deep breath, Emberpaw turned around and raced to the stream. I have to protect our territory myself.
However, yet again, Emberpaw was surprised when he arrived at the stream. The silver-colored tom had disappeared, but the rabbit was left by the water’s edge. What? Emberpaw had heard of cats who hunted just to kill, but this seemed… He sat down and watched, waiting for the other tom to reappear. Maybe he was spooked, just like me. Yet, as the sun was beginning to set, the strange didn’t reappear, and Emberpaw’s stomach growled.
I guess he ran away? Emberpaw looked around once more before darting over to the rabbit and scooping it up. As he darted back toward his camp, he felt his legs shake from hunger. He hadn’t eaten since before dawn, and the rapidly-cooling rabbit was satisfyingly heavy. Though he had initially intended to bring it back to camp, Emberpaw’s overwhelming hunger finally convinced him to take shelter in a long-abandoned badger den and scarf down the meat.
Before too long, Emberpaw had devoured the entire rabbit, chewing on the bones as he thought of the stranger. Why did he just leave this whole rabbit behind? Emberpaw wasn’t foolish – he knew he wouldn’t scare a cat into fleeing. Did he think I was a coyote? That didn’t make sense either, considering their eyes had met for such a long time. Those blue eyes… They may have been ice-colored, but they were filled with warmth and kindness. Could he have left it there… for me?
Stop being a mousebrain, Emberpaw shook his head as he stood and quickly buried the remaining bones. Bunny had told him time and time again that strangers would rather pick a fight than help, and he had received plenty of scratches and lost enough prey to prove her point. It was foolish to think anything else.
Emberpaw stared at the plump pigeon lying in front of the tiny stream. The small trickle of water had been painstakingly dug by Emberpaw so that it would reach camp for Bunny to drink without leaving, and he had returned to finish the job when he found the bird. It was freshly killed and placed exactly where he had been working yesterday.
Looking around suspiciously, Emberpaw put a paw on top of the bird. “Who’s there?”
As expected, there was no response.
Well… I haven’t really had time to hunt. Ever since his lucky break with the rabbit a few days ago, Bunny had grown too weak to even slip out of camp for water, so Emberpaw had set to digging a trench from the pond while bringing her soaked moss to lap at. His stomach twinged at the thought of biting into the prey, but he held back. Who knows when the actual owner of this bird will come back? I should take it to Bunny now. Snatching up the bird, Emberpaw darted back to the thistle hedge and leaped over it.
“Hey, Bunny?” Emberpaw set the bird down beside the she-cat, who was lying on a smooth stone. During his rehabilitation, Emberpaw had dragged it through the thorns for her, and now it was her favorite spot to sunbathe.
“What?” Bunny’s voice was raspy as she opened one eye. It was crusted over with gunk that Emberpaw fruitlessly cleaned away every sunrise.
“I, uh, caught you a pigeon. Can you eat it?”
Bunny took a small breath as she sat up. She wobbled for a heartbeat, and Emberpaw steadied her with his shoulder. “Child, you and I both know you didn’t catch that. Who did you take it from?”
Emberpaw was affronted that Bunny knew him so well. “… I found it. I didn’t steal it.”
“Mm.” Emberpaw knew Bunny didn’t believe him, but she likely didn’t have the energy to argue. She bit into the pigeon’s wing and chewed on it, her gaze unfocused.
Feeling useless as he watched Bunny struggle, Emberpaw shot to his paws. “I’m going to finish that stream now.”
“Don’t overwork yourself,” Bunny said sharply. “Make sure you rest.”
“Look who’s talking.” Emberpaw tried to force a purr, but nothing came out. Bunny looked miserable and haggard, even as she dutifully took small bites from the pigeon. “… you know, I could ask one of the Clans for herbs and-”
“Emberpaw.” Bunny’s voice was stern and absolute.
“… I know.” It wasn’t that Bunny didn’t like the Clans. Emberpaw knew that she refused to get entangled with them for his sake, and it was killing him that he was stopping her from getting the care she needed. “I’ll be back later, okay?”
Bunny didn’t answer, and Emberpaw sighed as he returned to his task.
As Emberpaw was digging toward the stream, he felt the fur on the back of his neck prickle. His head shot up, and he met a familiar ice-colored gaze peering through the waving bluegrass. “… it’s you!”
“I suppose so,” the silver-colored tom replied calmly. “… if you’re digging, you should try putting some wet moss on the area first.”
“Why?” Emberpaw blurted out the question before coming to his senses. “No, wait. Who are you? Why are you here?” The proximity to the camp – and Bunny – made Emberpaw nervous. “You shouldn’t be hanging around in someone else’s territory. How long have you been here?”
“My name is Snow. I was just passing through and noticed you were digging,” the tom explained calmly. “I thought it looked like you were having a rough time. Wet moss will soak the dirt, so it’s easier to dig through. The prairie ground is too dry and can be a pain to dig when you’re not a gopher or badger.”
“Oh.” Emberpaw swallowed anxiously and forced himself not to glance in the direction of the camp. If the tom had just gotten there, it meant he hadn’t been the one to lose a pigeon. “… you really just wanted to help?”
Snow purred lightly as he stepped out of the tall grass. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yeah, actually, it is.” Emberpaw’s ear flicked. “If you’re here to steal prey or herbs, I’m afraid I don’t have anything to give you.”
“… I see. Well, I wasn’t going to rob you. I just wanted to offer some advice.” Snow looked pointedly at the pond. “That’s a pretty far way to go if you’re digging on your own like this.”
“I don’t need help,” Emberpaw said immediately, then hesitated. Not with the stream, at least.
Snow must have noticed something was off. “Are you sure? I don’t have much to do, so I wouldn’t mind stopping for a day and helping you dig.”
Emberpaw wearily sat down and asked, “Do you know anything about herbs? My… my friend is sick.”
“Sick?” Snow hesitated before shaking his head. Emberpaw’s heart lurched as the white tom said, “No. I don’t know anything about herbs… but,” Emberpaw perked up, “I do know someone who might. Could you describe your friend’s symptoms to me?”
“Um… her breath is raspy, and she’s tired all the time. She can’t really stand on her own much, her nose is runny, and her eyes get crusty from mucus no matter how much I clean them.”
Snow looked concerned. “… how long has this been going on?”
Emberpaw felt dread creep into his chest. “Just about a quarter moon now, I think?”
“I have to go now,” Snow whirled around and paused before saying, “I’ll be back tomorrow. Please take care of your friend until then. Make sure she gets a lot of water.” Then he shot away without another word, leaving Emberpaw feeling nauseous.
Is it really that bad? Is Bunny in danger? Deciding to forgo the trench for now, Emberpaw gathered as much moss as he could and soaked it in water. I hope he really does come back. And comes back soon.
“I’m going to knock some sense into you as soon as I can get up,” Bunny hissed. She was slathered in enough herbal salves to make her black fur look grayish-green, and Emberpaw dropped another bundle of herbs beside her.
“I’m only doing this to help you, Bunny,” Emberpaw replied.
“You’ll get better in no time,” Dandelion added softly. The pale tortoiseshell she-cat was the one tending to Bunny, and she was the friend that Snow had mentioned. Before dawn had even broken the next day, Snow had returned with the newcomer, and they set to work treating the sick she-cat.
Three days had passed since then, and Snow had taken to keeping Emberpaw busy by collecting herbs or teaching him how to hunt. Snow had called Emberpaw’s hunting skills ‘abysmal’ and then had to teach him what the word meant, and from that moment on, they had been training. In the day they worked on tracking and hunting, and at night they carefully dug the water trench and cleaned out one of the extra burrows in the camp for Dandelion to have a place to store herbs.
“I told you not to bring-”
“Strangers to camp,” Emberpaw and Dandelion chorused together with Bunny, who gave out a hmph! and laid her head back down. She had said it so many times that Emberpaw could recite the words in his sleep.
“From now on, I’ll listen to whatever you say,” Emberpaw promised.
Bunny fixed Emberpaw with a sharp glare, the mucus finally cleared out, and asked, “Whatever I say?”
“… yes.” Emberpaw felt as if he had just agreed to death.
“Then you will start leaping over the barrier from sunrise to sunhigh without stopping. Every morning. For half a moon.”
“… I didn’t say-”
“You said you’d do whatever she asked,” Dandelion reminded Emberpaw cheerfully.
“… fine.” Emberpaw turned and slunk out of the newly-made medicine den, wearily thinking of the strain he was about to put his body under every day. However, as he spotted Snow, who was organizing a small pile of mice and birds, he found that he couldn’t sulk for long. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if he was part of a Clan again.