TB MOONRISE -- Chapter 6 (Patreon)

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“But… why, Mothwing?” Feathertail asked, sorrow choking her mew.

Mothwing stared back, her amber eyes hazy. “I… I’m so sorry, Feathertail. It’s where I belong.”

Feathertail stared helplessly at Mothwing, feeling as if her heart was clawed to pieces. The murmur of the crowd around her meant nothing, their hazy faces flitting to and fro as the world spun beneath her paws. All that mattered to her was Mothwing.

“I thought you belonged with me?” Feathertail managed.

Mothwing’s eyes looked hurt. Some part of Feathertail felt satisfied by that, that Mothwing was finally realizing what she had done and how it was hurting Feathertail. But deep down she knew it wasn’t the right thing to say.

“I love you, Feathertail,” Mothwing whispered. “But… I belong in the medicine cat den. It’s what I want to do.”

“Even if it means leaving me behind?” Feathertail struggled to breathe, her chest tight with pain. “Forever?”

Mothwing trembled. “StarClan chose me.”

The moth’s wing sign was undeniable. Feathertail had been terrified it might come since Mudfur first began teaching Mothwing medicine cat ways, and some part of her had hoped it never would. StarClan, why?

“Mothwing!” called a voice. Falcontail appeared through the haze, his yellow eyes sharpening on Feathertail like claws. Feathertail felt too wretched to care about how the gray tabby looked at her. “Mudfur is calling for you.”

Mothwing blinked at Feathertail, her eyes full of emotion. Feathertail couldn’t look into them, not without feeling like something important was being torn from her body. She stared down at her paws instead, willing for anything to make the pain stop.

When she dared look up again, Mothwing was gone.

“It’s her path,” sneered Falcontail, leering down at Feathertail. His lip curled. “You were never meant to be together. If StarClan hadn’t called her… I would have seen to that.”

Feathertail watched him stalk away, wondering how she could feel any lower. She sank onto her belly and tucked her muzzle beneath her paws, drowning out a wail of sorrow and pain with the grass beneath her, until darkness swallowed her whole.

———————————————————-

Feathertail woke with a cry, her body searing with pain. She was lying on her side, the sunlight warming her pelt, and everything hurt. Hazily, Feathertail pushed away her nightmare and tried to recall what had happened.

We were caught in a storm, and… swept away, she figured. The water had been too powerful to fight, and then there was the cliff… The sound of water was still in her ears, but the storm was clearly over if the sunny, cloudless sky had anything to say about it.

Panic clutched Feathertail’s chest. We fell! She thought. She fought against the pain to sit herself up, her muscles sore and screaming. Feathertail tested each leg, finding that nothing seemed broken, just bruised. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she scanned her surroundings. Where are the others?

She was lying beside a calm pool of water, flooded over its banks with debris from the tree that had fallen with them during the storm. Feathertail could see the splintered remains of the trunk sticking up from the water.

The clearing here was rather open and circular, with one side bordered with tall cliffs. Feathertail winced as she realized how far they’d fallen – the flooded river they’d found cascaded down from those cliffs into the pool; a shimmering waterfall that filled the whole clearing with the sound of crashing water. She could spot a trail that they might have taken down here, had the storm not caught them.

Feathertail looked around the clearing, searching for the others. Oh StarClan, what will happen if one of us is dead? She recalled Stormfur’s limp body floating in the water and a flash of fear rocketed through her. Oh, don’t let him be dead!

But she had made it out alive – the others might have, too. She spotted her littermate’s sodden body beside a hunk of old bark. Feathertail stared at his flanks until she was sure she saw him draw breath. She sighed with relief. That’s one.

As soon as she’d spotted one, she seemed to find the others – Nightpaw wasn’t too far from Stormfur, and Shadepaw was a tail-length away from him. Mistyfoot lay on her side, water streaming from her pelt as she struggled to move. Crowpaw was a thin shape near Stoneheart, whose eyes were glazed with pain.

Feathertail forced herself to her paws, thanking StarClan that they were all alive at least. Her muscles protested, and she nearly buckled and fell. Groaning, she dragged herself over to Mistyfoot, nudging the ThunderClan she-cat until one deep blue eye opened.

“Are you hurt?” Feathertail demanded.

Mistyfoot groaned. “I’m sore,” she reported, after a moment. “I’ll live.”

Relief filled Feathertail, chasing some of her own pain away. She padded over to Stormfur next, lapping at her littermate’s ear until he woke and coughed up a mouthful of water.

“I’ll taste that for a half-moon,” he complained, his voice thin.

Feathertail purred with relief. She made her way over to Nightpaw and Shadepaw, who were helping one another to their paws. Shadepaw winced as she put weight on one of her legs, but decided confidently, “Just a twist, it’ll be okay.”

That left Stoneheart and Crowpaw. Feathertail trotted across the sodden clearing, stumbling over the pain in her own limbs. StarClan above, are we all okay? What luck!

Crowpaw was staring at the sky, as if it had betrayed him, breathing roughly. Feathertail looked to Stoneheart, who was struggling to get to his paws. To her horror, Feathertail could see from here that his shoulder wound had reopened. Oh no; it looks worse than before!

“Shadepaw!” Feathertail cried. “Shadepaw, Stoneheart’s wound!”

Shadepaw limped over as quickly as she could. Feathertail’s worried words had roused the others enough to push past their own pains and stand, all eyes turned to Stoneheart.

“It’s open again,” Shadepaw reported with a heavy sigh. “And with all that dirt and water…” The apprentice turned her eyes to the others. “If we don’t find something to treat it with, infection is imminent.”

“I can hardly move it,” Stoneheart complained. He tried to get up, but failed, groaning in pain and frustration.

“Then don’t!” Feathertail insisted.

Shadepaw nodded in agreement. “I think something’s cut it even deeper, Stoneheart,” she meowed sadly. “Right to your muscle.”

Mistyfoot padded forward, eyes filled with worry for her littermate. “Can he walk?” she asked.

Shadepaw frowned. “He shouldn’t,” she meowed. “We can’t risk the damage getting any worse, or he might not be able to use that leg again.”

“Great!” Crowpaw growled. His wet fur was slicked to his sides still, but Feathertail imagined the lean tom bristling with indignation. “Just our luck! Stuck in this desolate place, with no prey, no medicine, no shelter…”

“Quiet,” Stormfur growled.

“He’s right,” Nightpaw murmured, padding up to Stoneheart. “This has been a disaster – we should turn back.”

Feathertail frowned, worry blooming in her. If Nightpaw thought things were bad… “Crowpaw, that’s not fair,” she insisted. The last thing the group needed was Crowpaw sowing seeds of doubt. It’s not our fault the storm came! Why can’t you just be grateful that we’re all okay? “That storm formed so quickly, no cat could’ve prepared for it!”

“We have no idea where we are!” Crowpaw went on. “Who knows what’ll come after us if we wait for nightfall to figure it out? None of us have the strength to–”

Stormfur’s amber eyes blazed. “I said quiet!”

The group quieted, all eyes turning to Stormfur. The big gray tom was staring - not at the journeying cats, but at the clearing around them. Feathertail, confused, followed his gaze, peering into the scrubby bushes and stones. What’s he looking at?

Something shifted.

Feathertail started, her heart beating in her ears. What was that?!

She wasn’t the only one to see it. Immediately the group huddled together, claws unsheathed. They surrounded Stoneheart, who could only groan in protest at being protected. Feathertail fluffed out her fur, glaring into the shadows for any sign of movement, her claws scraping against the stones.

I might hurt from ears to tail but I have enough strength to protect the others! She thought fiercely. I won’t let anyone hurt my friends!

There! A shape detached itself from one of the boulders, coming into the sunlight with bright eyes. Feathertail drew in a breath, her ferocity fading into confusion. “It’s… a cat,” she murmured.

After the first came another, and another. All three were small, lean-bodied cats, their stride long and confident over the stony ground. Feathertail noted the oddness of their gait and realized that it was because their back legs somehow seemed longer than their front. How does such a thing happen?

The cats stopped a tail-length away, seeming unconcerned by the hostility of the intruders. One stepped forward – a she-cat, her tabby pelt mottled with… was that mud? Feathertail blinked in surprise. These cats are covered in mud!

“Who are you?” the she-cat asked mildly.

Feathertail glanced at the others. What would they say? What could they say? No matter what, though, they had to avoid a fight – none of them were in any condition for that, especially not Stoneheart. Eventually it was Stormfur who stepped forward.

His size seemed to intimidate the smaller she-cat – she stepped back with wide eyes as he approached. “I’m Stormfur,” he meowed. “These are my companions – Feathertail, my littermate, Shadepaw, Nightpaw, Mistyfoot, Stoneheart, and Crowpaw.”

The three strange cats blinked at one another, and then back at Stormfur. They said nothing. Feathertail frowned. Can they even understand us?

“We come in peace,” Mistyfoot assured, stepping forward beside Stormfur. Feathertail couldn’t help but note just how their pelts brushed. “We were swept away by the storm.”

“The storm…” the she-cat repeated it. Something in the strange cat’s eyes flashed. Feathertail felt a twinge of unease as the she-cat took a step closer and bowed her head. “I am Brook Where Small Fish Swim, but you may call me Brook – come. You have wounded, and we can tend him.”

So they do understand! Feathertail felt her stomach flutter with relief.

“Should we?” Nightpaw asked.

The group looked back at Stoneheart. The gray tom had struggled to his paws, but couldn’t stand without leaning on Shadepaw’s shoulder. Mistyfoot took her place immediately – the younger cat couldn’t bear Stoneheart’s weight long.

“I don’t see we have any choice,” Shadepaw hissed. “I have no idea what the plants up here do. If they can help… Stoneheart needs it. Now.”

“I don’t like this,” Crowpaw growled, his tail dry enough to bristle. “Who are these cats?”

“We are the Tribe of Rushing Water,” Brook meowed cordially.

Feathertail blinked at the small tabby in confusion. Did she not understand the meaning of privacy?

Brook seemed unfazed by the looks she was getting for butting in. She nodded at Stoneheart. “You are badly wounded,” she pointed out. “The storm carried you here. Let us help you.”

“We don’t have much choice,” Stormfur sighed. “Lead on.”

“How far is your… Tribe?” Feathertail asked.

Brook’s tail flicked towards the waterfall. “In the cave behind the Rushing Water,” she explained. “Not far at all. Come.”

Feathertail pressed herself against Stoneheart’s other side as she and Mistyfoot helped him stand. Brook and Stormfur led the way up a small stony path that ran alongside the cliff and disappeared behind the waterfall. The other two Tribe cats took up the rear, flanking Nightpaw and Crowpaw without much care for the way Crowpaw was glowering at them.

The roar of water grew louder and louder, the spray misting the cat’s pelts. Brook waited for them at the mouth of a large split in the cliff side, the inside of which was shrouded in darkness.

“You walk the Path of Rushing Water, forsaken by the storm,” Brook meowed as they approached the mouth of the cave. Her amber eyes rested on Stormfur. “Do not worry – you will be safe here. The Tribe of Rushing Water welcomes you.”