Chapter Text
The next sunrise, they struggled on under Purdy’s directions. Crowpaw felt as if he had been plodding along for the length of an elder’s life, at the base of tall Twoleg walls that were as steep as the gorge in WindClan the river ran through. By now he was pretty much convinced that the old tabby was ambling along at random, not caring if they were going the right way or not. But the forest cats had no hope of finding their own way out of the Twolegplace. Cloud covered the sun again, so there was no help there, and now and again rain fell in a cold spatter.
“We’ll never get outta this.” Tawnypelt echoed Crowpaw’s thoughts as they lined up to cross another Thunderpath.
“You might as well stop complaining.” Stormfur retorted. “There’s nothing we can do about it.” Crowpaw was surprised to hear such a hostile response from the easygoing RiverClan warrior. But they were all still tired, even after the night’s sleep, and hope was trickling away like water falling onto sand.
Tawnypelt glared at the tom, her neck fur bristling, but Brambleclaw stepped in front of her. “Take it easy, both of you.” He meowed. Then his sister leapt around him and pelted across the Thunderpath, almost straight under the paws of an approaching monster. Feathertail let out a distressed mew and sprang after her.
“And don’t take stupid risks!” Brambleclaw yelled after them.
Feathertail glanced back. “Sorry!”
Shaking his head, Brambleclaw turned to Squirrelpaw, who was crouching beside him at the edge of the Thunderpath, watching for her chance to cross. “I’ll tell you when it’s safe to go.” He told her.
“I can do it!” Squirrelpaw spat. “Stop trying to sound like my father.” She leapt out onto the hard surface of the Thunderpath; fortunately no monsters were in sight. Brambleclaw raced behind her, and Crowpaw followed.
Brambleclaw caught up with her as she reached the other side. He bent over her so they stood nose-to-nose, and his words came out in a hiss of fury. “If you ever do something so stupid again, you’ll wish I was your father! I’ll be tougher with you than he ever was!”
Crowpaw rolled his eyes at their squabble.
“I wish you were my father now!” Squirrelpaw retorted. “Firestar would know which way to go.”
Her words had clearly hurt Brambleclaw, as the warrior hung his head sadly. Crowpaw kinda felt bad for him.
The ThunderClan tom turned to the old tabby, who was strolling across the Thunderpath as if he had all the time in the world. “Purdy, how much farther is it to the edge of this Twolegplace?”
“Oh, not far, not far at all.” Purdy let out an amused purr. “Ya youngsters are too impatient.”
A faint growl came from Crowpaw’s throat, and he took a step toward their guide. “At least age hasn’t cracked our wits.” He snapped. “Get a move on!”
Purdy blinked at him. “All in good time.” He stood still, scenting the air, and then turned decisively alongside the Thunderpath. “This way.”
“He hasn’t got the faintest idea.” Crowpaw snarled, but he still followed. As with all of the forest cats, it was no longer a question of faith or courage. They just didn’t have any choice.
The day seemed to drag on forever, and when the light began to fade again they were limping painfully beside a tall Twoleg fence.
Crowpaw thought the skin on his pads must have been worn off with so much walking on stone; he longed for the soothing coolness of growing things under his paws.
He opened his mouth to ask Brambleclaw to tell Purdy to find them another place to stop, only to realize that he could taste a sharp, unfamiliar smell on the air. He paused, trying to identify it; at the same moment Tawnypelt came hurrying up to her brother.
“Brambleclaw, have you noticed that smell? It’s like the Carrionplace, on the edge of ShadowClan territory. We’d better watch out. There’ll be rats.”
Brambleclaw nodded. “Hurry up!” He called. “Keep together!”
A dry chittering sound interrupted him. The warrior whirled around, and Crowpaw looked past him to see what he saw: three huge rats squeezing under the fence to stand in his path, their naked tails curled high over their backs. Their eyes glinted in their evil, wedge-shaped faces, and the apprentice could just make out the gleam of their sharp front teeth.
In a heartbeat, the leading rat sprang at Brambleclaw; the tom leapt back and the rat’s teeth snapped a hairbreadth from his leg. He swung a paw and raked his claws down the side of the rat’s head. It fell back, squealing, but at once another one took its place. More appeared from the other side of the fence, streaming onto the path like a vicious, squealing river.
One jumped at Crowpaw, and he dodged it, hissing. It bared its teeth back at him, and the two began to circle. The gray-black cat made the first move, lunging at the creature, his teeth meeting in its leg. The rat screeched, then started running away, dragging Crowpaw along with it.
He just held on. He didn’t know how to fight rats, as he’d never even seen one before, but he was determined to not seem weak. He dug his claws into the earth, holding the rat back. Then he grabbed it with a clawed paw and pulled it toward him, his fangs still embedded in the leg. The rat writhed and screeched in his grasp, swiping its claws at him, but Crowpaw was able to bite into its neck, and it quickly fell limp.
Crowpaw lifted his head triumphantly, but his moment of victory was short lived as he was suddenly barreled into. More rats had descended on him, and he was lost in the wave of bodies.
He could hardly breathe. The disgusting stink of the rats filled his nostrils, choking him. He kicked out with his hind paws, hoping to feel his claws sink into fur and flesh, but it was a useless effort.
“Help! Someone help me!” He cried out desperately. He felt a prickle of shame at not being able to save himself, but it was greatly overpowered by his terror—he was going to die.
Tiny teeth and claws were piercing his flesh, sending a strong scent of blood pouring out around him, and somehow Crowpaw felt tears dampening his face.
“Please help!” His sobbing plea was choked out as a rat fell into his mouth, and he coughed.
Father, do something!
Just then, he felt a weight on him vanish. More and more followed, and suddenly he was pulled out of the mass, being thrown a few tail-lengths away.
He scrambled to his paws, panting heavily, and looked back to see Tawnypelt amidst the sea of rats.
“Ya want a piece of me?!” She was yowling as she batted multiple rats away with her huge paws. More charged at her, but she was barely phased. Releasing a battle caterwaul, she flung herself at the vile creatures, wrestling and clawing and biting.
Crowpaw stared on, completely frozen with fear, unsure of what to do.
The ShadowClan warrior popped back out of the brawl, a rat clinging to her shoulder. She tried to get at it, but it was too far for her to reach. So, to Crowpaw’s amazement, she threw herself at the ground, smashing the rat against the hard dirt. It unlatched itself, and Tawnypelt raised herself up. She glared down at the mutilated creature, then shot her fierce gaze to the rest of its brood.
The rats scattered. Tawnypelt snorted victoriously, but putting weight on her leg she winced. Crowpaw was shaken from his frightened state, and ran to her.
“Tawnypelt!” He skidded to a halt. “Tawnypelt… you saved me.”
The molly gave him a grimace. “Hey, what’d I tell ya? That’s what big sisters do.”
Crowpaw wanted to say something, but his throat was dry. He glanced at her shoulder, which was bleeding heavily. “You’re hurt.” He whispered.
“What, this?” She gestured to her wound. “Nah. That’s nothin’. I’m fine.” She was trying to hide her pain, but her face still crinkled slightly in discomfort.
Crowpaw felt dizzy. All this time he had distrusted her; thought she was a monster hidden in plain sight, but here she had risked her life for him, being afflicted with a wound far worse than anything he had been dealt. And yet, she still smiled at him—told him everything was okay, and he believed her.
“Tawnypelt!” Came Brambleclaw’s worried yowl. The tabby bounded up to them. “Tawny, are you okay?”
His sister looked at him, and she grinned like she did with Crowpaw. “Yep.”
Brambleclaw eyed her shoulder. “No. You’re not.” His fur bristled. “I told you to quit taking risks!”
Tawnypelt’s smile disappeared, replaced with an angry frown. “It wasn’t a risk. Crowpaw could’ve died.”
“What?!” Brambleclaw snapped his gaze to the apprentice, his amber moons smoldering. “You did this to her?!”
“What? No!” Crowpaw was in utter disbelief. “I didn’t attack her!”
“No, but you were such an idiot that she had to come save you! And now she’s hurt! This is all your fault!”
Crowpaw opened his mouth to argue, but no words came forward. Is it really my fault?
“Brambleclaw, knock that off!” Tawnypelt shouted. Her brother whipped his head to her. “Don’t blame him just cause you’re mad I’m hurt. I know you would’ve done the same, and you’re just worried about me.” Her eyes softened, and she lumbered to her brother, bringing his head to rest on her chest. “But it’s all okay. You’re right: I should’ve been more careful, but it was worth it.”
Brambleclaw pushed away from her, and stared on as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What? You’re on his side now?” He accused. “I thought you hated him!”
Tawnypelt stammered. “I- well… he ain’t as bad as I’d thought.”
Brambleclaw growled. “First Storm, and now you? Why are you all abandoning me?” His voice shook.
Tawnypelt balked. “What are ya talkin’ about?! You’re not gettin’ abandoned.”
“But you’re choosing him over me!”
Crowpaw had had enough of this. “Hey! Maybe you should quit being a fox-heart to your own sister!” He snarled, disregarding Tawnypelt’s plea to not direct his anger toward her brother—he wasn’t going to needlessly scream at her just to spare Brambleclaw’s feelings. “Don’t you know how much she does for you?”
The tabby spun to face him. “You stay out of this! You’re just proving how I was right that you shouldn’t be here. You’re useless!”
The words stung more than Crowpaw would’ve expected, and his heart sank. Unfortunately, Brambleclaw’s doubts of the apprentice’s abilities had started to get to him, and truly the younger tom wanted more than anything to gain his superior’s respect despite his disdain—to prove the warrior wrong that he was only chosen because of his relation to the late WindClan deputy.
Right Deadfoot?
While Crowpaw was stewing in his thoughts, Brambleclaw had continued with his tirade. “You should just-!”
“Brambs!” Some-cat shouted, and suddenly Stormfur had flown in front of Crowpaw. He stared the other tom down, amber meeting amber. “You need to calm down.”
Brambleclaw stared wide-eyed at his friend, but Stormfur stood his ground. Clearly hurt, the tabby backed down, stomping away. Passing Squirrelpaw, she glared angrily at her companions, then scampered after her Clanmate.
Stormfur sighed, his regret at upsetting his best friend evident as he lowered his head and ears. “I hate confrontation.” He padded away.
The group found a place to rest—an enclosed gap in the wall on the other side of the Thunderpath from the Carrionplace. The area was small and dark, rough stones sticking out of the ground and puddles of greasy water gathered among them. Crowpaw bent his head to drink and grunted in disgust, but did not have the strength to complain out loud.
There was nothing to use as bedding. The cats huddled together in one corner, except for Brambleclaw, who continued to sulk in another corner, and Feathertail, who went nosing around the wall and came back with cobwebs plastered over one paw, which she pressed onto Tawnypelt’s wound.
“I wish I could remember the herb Leafpaw uses for rat bites.” Squirrelpaw mewed, disheartened.
“No herbs here anyway.” Tawnypelt meowed, wincing. “Thanks, Feths, that really helps.” Feathertail purred and licked her friend between the ears.
Every-cat began to settle, but Crowpaw remained standing. He stared at Tawnypelt, who had begun to slumber, and focused on her still bleeding shoulder. His chest was tight with guilt and shame—he had done this to her.
Stepping tentatively, he soon stood in front of her. “T-Tawnypelt?” He whispered, his voice shaking.
The molly’s eyes cracked open, a green glare of irritation, but realizing who had awoken her, her mood softened. “Yeah Crow?”
He worked his claws into the dirt. “I… I’m sorry.” He could see tears at the edge of his vision, but he didn’t care this time. He wanted them to fall, to show just how weak and pathetic he truly was.
How could I have done this?
Tawnypelt blinked at him. “Sorry? For what?”
The river broke free. “Brambleclaw’s right: it’s all my fault you got hurt. I’m weak and useless and I shouldn’t be here!” He choked on a sob. “Dad never should’ve chosen me.” He went into a full cry.
“Crowpaw, come here.” The apprentice glanced at Tawnypelt through his glassy eyes. She patted the ground beside her. Crowpaw automatically obliged, curling up.
Tawnypelt rested her head atop Crowpaw’s, and stroked his trembling flank soothingly. “Shhh. It’s okay. Brambleclaw’s not right; you’re not useless.” She met his eyes, and her gaze became more severe. “And ya certainly ain’t weak. Even I got my tail pulled, and I fight rats all the time livin’ in ShadowClan.” She nuzzled Crowpaw. “So don’t let him get to ya. He didn’t mean it anyway.”
Crowpaw pulled away, shocked. “Didn’t mean it?”
Tawnypelt paused. “Well… I hope he didn’t… But I think he’s just misguidin’ his anger. He got himself all worked up worryin’ about me, and when that happens he kinda just… breaks down.”
Crowpaw huffed. “It still hurts.”
Tawnypelt sighed. “I know.” She pulled him back in. “I’m sorry he said those things. But when he feels better he’ll apologize to ya.”
“He didn’t the others times.” The warrior was silent.
“Why even bother defending him?” Crowpaw snarled, his anger returning.
She struggled for words. “Because… he is good. I don’t know what’s goin’ on with him, but he really ain’t like this.” She smiled sadly. “You should’ve seen him when we were growin’ up… I just want my little brother back.” She glanced at Crowpaw, and her smile turned loving. “But now I have another one.” She ruffled the fur on Crowpaw’s head. He laughed and leaned into her side.
“Hey, where’s Purdy?” Asked Stormfur, noticing the old tom’s absence. Every-cat looked around; Purdy was nowhere to be seen.
“Tsk. Maybe he finally left.” Crowpaw growled. “Good riddance, after all the trouble he’s caused.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Hey. You all want to hear a scary story?” Feathertail suggested, waving her tail happily. Crowpaw, Tawnypelt, and Squirrelpaw nodded eagerly. Stormfur was less keen but still settled down to listen.
“Have you ever heard the story of Cloverpool?” The RiverClan molly began. They all shook their heads. “Well, the tale is about a WindClan medicine cat, named Cloverpool, but instead of healing cats, this medicine cat was a killer. Her first victim was a tom named Brambleheart. She led the unsuspecting cat out to the river. While his back was turned, she leapt at him, slashing his side. He collapsed to the ground, and as he was bleeding out, she whispered to him. “Sorry. Don’t have any herbs to heal this one.” Poor Brambleheart could only watch in horror as his attacker then grabbed a rock and smashed it into his head. Then she dragged his body into the river, and let him wash away.”
“Her next victim was a molly, her own littermate, Weaselflight. Her sister knew something was up, and Cloverpool admitted to the killing. She told Weaselflight that she would lead her sister to her mate’s body, but instead Cloverpool knocked her unconscious. When Weaselflight awoke, she was in the tangles of a fox-trap, all four limbs trapped. Cloverpool appeared. Weaselflight begged her sister to spare her, but Cloverpool just laughed. Then, she stabbed Weaselflight with many small, sharp rocks. Weaselflight cried out in pain, pleading with her sister to stop, but eventually there were too many wounds, and she bled out.”
“The third unfortunate soul was another molly named Brightcloud. She made the very bad decision to visit Cloverpool that sunrise for a thorn stuck in her paw. She entered the den, and the medicine cat greeted her cheerfully. After examining the paw, Cloverpool gave her some herbs, saying they would numb the pain of the thorn being pulled. Brightcloud, not thinking anything of this, ate the herbs, and then the world went black. She woke to Cloverpool tearing into her belly. Terrified, Brightcloud tried to scream, to run, but her body wouldn’t move—she was paralyzed. All she could do was watch helplessly as the medicine cat ripped out her insides, killing her.”
“By this point, the Clan was in hysteria. They had no idea what was going on—what was happening to their Clanmates, and they became even more panicked when Brambleheart’s body had been found in the banks of RiverClan territory. But soon Cloverpool’s villainy would be revealed, when she made the mistake of killing her last victim.”
“Juniperpaw had been Brambleheart’s apprentice, and he vowed to avenge his mentor’s despicable death. He had grown suspicious of Cloverpool, as the molly was always the last cat to have been seen with the cats who had disappeared. So, one night he followed her out of camp. They traveled far away from the Clans, and going into a tall patch of grass, Juniperpaw lost her. But Cloverpool had known that the young tom had been following her, and she charged at him from out of the grass. They clawed and bit and screeched until they were both tired and bloody. Juniperpaw had lost a lot of blood, but he was determined to bring justice for his mentor and the others who had befallen his fate, and he took off running, back to the Clan. Cloverpool ran after him.”
“Juniperpaw’s heart was pounding, his paws hitting the dirt with such force it rattled his body, but he didn’t stop. But the molly chasing him was swift, and she was gaining on him. Juniperpaw pushed harder. He pushed, and he pushed, and he pushed, but she drew closer still. Juniperpaw still didn’t stop. He jumped and landed hard on his side. Cloverpool leapt after him, meeting her bloodthirsty claws in his exhausted flesh. She tore into him, ripping off all his fur and scoring his face until he was completely unrecognizable. Satisfied, she lifted her head, and she was horrified.”
“She was in WindClan’s camp, and every-cat was awake, staring at her and what she had done. Then she was attacked from all sides. Thrown down at the paws of her leader, she was condemned to exile, but not without being gifted a slash to the face by Flamestar, disfiguring her, just as she had done to brave Juniperpaw.”
“But the story doesn’t end there. Some say Cloverpool still wanders to this very age, on the hunt for her next victim: a kittypet, a loner, or even a wayward group of Clan cats, perhaps? It could be any one of us.” Feathertail stepped closer to her friends. “You. Or you. Or even… you!” She jumped in Stormfur’s face, but her brother had no reaction, only looking at her with a bored expression. “Oh, come on, Storm. You weren’t even a little scared?”
“Nope.” Stormfur yawned. “That story was so obviously fake, and it takes a lot to scare me.”
There was a flash of lightning and the boom of a thunderclap. The group whipped their heads to the shelter’s entrance, and there stood a figure in the rain.
“Ahhh! Cloverpool!” Stormfur dove under his sister, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Crowpaw raced up, and Tawnypelt unsheathed her claws, both snarling warnings.
“Well howdy, youngin’s!” Greeted the figure, somehow now familiar. Then it stepped inside, pushing something, and they saw that it was only Purdy; he had brought a kittypet bowl with him.
“Purdy? Where’d you go?” Said Stormfur, removing himself from his hiding place. Feathertail glared at him, and he smiled sheepishly.
“And what’s that?” Questioned Squirrelpaw, going up to the bowl and sniffing at its contents.
Purdy let out a jovial purr. “It’s milk! Kinda like what ya suckle from yer mother as a kitten, but Upwalkers get it from cows.”
“Oh. Cool!” Squirrelpaw splashed her head into the liquid without a second thought.
“Squirrelpaw!” Feathertail bounded up to her. Squirrelpaw raised her head, her whiskers gleaming with white and her green eyes shining in delight.
“Mmm. This is delicious! Try it, Feths!” She gestured to the bowl. Feathertail scrutinized it, then took a delicate lap of the milk. When she was finished, she turned to Squirrelpaw with a smile.
“That is good!” She flicked her tail to invite the rest to come enjoy the treat. Stormfur went first, then Tawnypelt, and Crowpaw followed more cautiously.
“Wow. This is amazing.” Stormfur swooned, swiping his tongue over his muzzle. Tawnypelt meowed praise beside him. “Crow?”
Crowpaw stared at the bowl. The liquid definitely looked like milk, and the others seemed fine after drinking it, but he still wasn’t sure he should, too. He caught Stormfur’s eye, and the tom nodded. Crowpaw felt eased again, and this time, he listened. He lapped at the milk, and he was pleasantly surprised at the sweet, full taste it possessed.
“What’s that?” Came a gruff voice behind them. Crowpaw turned to Brambleclaw, who had finally decided to quit his moping. The apprentice frowned at the warrior’s arrival.
“It’s milk!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed. “And it’s really good! Come try some.” She pushed the bowl to him.
Brambleclaw bent his nose to the milk, and after giving it a wary sniff, took a drink. He lifted his head, and his eyes went wide. Then he thrust his muzzle back into the bowl, voraciously lapping up the milk. Tawnypelt laughed at him.
“So, why’d you go and get this, Purdy?” Meowed Stormfur. The loner’s enthusiasm dissipated, and he flatted his ears in shame.
“I wanted ta give y’all a treat ta make up fer leadin’ ya wrong and gettin’ attacked by those rats. I didn’t mean ta cause trouble. I jus’ wanted ta help.”
Feathertail and Stormfur shared a sad glance, and Squirrelpaw looked down at her paws. Even Crowpaw felt bad; despite all the obstacles they’ve faced after meeting Purdy, the old tabby really hadn’t meant to inflict harm.
And I had been the one to tell him to go away.
Tawnypelt purred. “Ya know, Purdy? You’re alright.” The tom beamed at her.
Feathertail padded to Purdy, rubbing her muzzle against his side. “Thank you. You really have helped us, even with some setbacks. We would still be helplessly ambling around Twolegplace if it weren’t for you.”
Purdy licked the top of her head. “No, thank y’all. You’ve gave my life new purpose. It’s… been a long while since I’ve had a family.”
Every-cat smiled.
A low, growl-like sound could suddenly be heard.
Stormfur gulped. “Cloverpool?” He slowly looked over his shoulder, and his expression blanked in realization. “Oh.”
Crowpaw glanced back as well. Brambleclaw had fallen asleep, snoring like a hibernating hedgehog, the bowl of milk completely empty.
Tawnypelt purred at her brother. “Aww. Ain’t he adorable?” She limped to him, curling up and nosing his cheek affectionately. He hiccuped.
The others went to gather around the pair, preparing to sleep themselves. Crowpaw snuggled next to Tawnypelt.
Feathertail held her tail wide to Purdy, and he smiled, going to plop down beside her. Her tail laid around him comfortingly.
Crowpaw rested his chin on his paws, and let sleep encompass him.