Post by streak. on Jun 30, 2008 0:29:33 GMT -5
hide the key,
'cause im coming over
to settle the score oo whooaa.
dont forget how well i know you;
ill take take, take take you down.
-the cab, risky business
'cause im coming over
to settle the score oo whooaa.
dont forget how well i know you;
ill take take, take take you down.
-the cab, risky business
There it was.
The territory, it hadn’t changed. And even as Scathe stood on the pinnacle of the hill overlooking her former home, she felt a pang of homesickness. But, over what? She blinked her large blue eyes, darkened with hidden secrets and tribulations; she flicked back her scarred ears, souvenirs of past battles; flicked her burnt gray tail, a scar of what she had given to get where she was now.
But where was she, even? She had left her Pack, failed herself, failed everything she had ever worked for. It’s all Halfstar’s fault, she thought bitterly. He’s the reason I’m here, will always be here. He’s my reason as to why I’m not still leading AutumnClan. Deep down, though, Scathe knew that that last part was a lie. She hadn’t been cut out to lead AutumnClan; look what it had gotten her. A one-way ticket to DirtClan should she fail under the enemy claw, like that was hardly something to wait her last breath for.
The somewhat-cool wind swept over the barren rocks, ruffling her thick gray fur. Long gone was the gleaming sheen of tortoiseshell, the playfulness of those blue eyes. Scathe barely did so much as blink at the thought. She did, however, open her mouth to taste the air, test it to see if it still had that feel of home. It did, and for the first time tears pinched her eyelids. These territories were where the she-cat had grown up, where she had trained and fought and finally snapped and banished herself from the sacred bonds of the four Clans.
Down below was rocky riverbed, a part of territory that she remembered well. Just past these rocks were the dens. Just past these rocks Stealthpack lived, ate, and slept. How were they getting along? Scathe had lost count of the moon cycles that she had been gone. Surely her Pack couldn’t have survived without her brilliant leadership and her former inexorable -
Oh, who am I kidding? she thought, interrupting her tirade. I’m a failure, okay? If I can’t lead these pathetic rogues, I can’t lead anything. Which, she figured, maybe she couldn’t. The Gathering was proof of that.
Let’s jump back to when she had left.
The cool late-summer breeze ruffled Scathe’s gray fur as she slunk beneath undergrowth, eyes nothing but slivers in the silvery moonlight. Her paws hit the ground with barely a mouse of a noise, though she thought that she’d wake the dead surely with the way her heart was pounding. All that she could think was, I’m a deserter, I’m a deserter.
A cloud blew in front of the moon’s face, temporarily obscuring Scathe’s clear line of vision. The she-cat, however, took this as a sign. Despite how scared she was feeling, how the omen made sweat prickle under her fur, she continued on until no scent of StealthPack or the Clans lingered on the air. Now the stench of kittypets and Twolegs took over. There was another smell, though, pervading Scathe's senses. She paused, head cocked and mouth half-open as she tried to decipher it to no avail. What was it? Something akin to metal, like fresh blood, dirty like old rainwater. It didn't raise a red flag, though, so it couldn't have been hat important.
She stayed on the edge of the brush until dawn seeped through the thick twilight and colored the world in its golden and pink hues. Then she stepped out, pink nose to the air and white claws unsheathed for quick protection. Out in the open, in the midst of the Twoleg life, how much danger could she get in, anyway? Surely before the monsters would get her someone would notice this lone, gray cat and try to save her. Twolegs were always trying to be valiant, saving cats like their lives depended on it.
Spread before her was a magnificent sight; flat, gray earth, much like the path the Twolegs used not far from her territory. But this time, it was so .. different. There was no sense of familiarity about this place. Gone was the forest smells, gone was the ground that Scathe knew so well. She would have to get used to new things if she ever wanted to move on.
Monsters zoomed back and forth, sending acrid bursts of hot air over Scathe's fur. Normally, she'd just wait for a lull in the line before dashing across, but this line looked like it never ended. She knew she could gamble with her life, take a chance and make a mad dash for the other side, but since she left home, Scathe had taken to thinking things out a lot more than not.
I'm a pack leader, she thought valiantly. If I can't run across a simple path, how can I ever lead StealthPack again?
The path stretched out endlessly from horizon to horizon. The line of monsters never seemed to cease, but Scathe knew that if she didn’t take a chance soon she’d be here all night. Taking a deep breath, Scathe briefly hoped that she wouldn’t get killed before making a mad dash for the other side. The roaring of the monsters was amplified, the acrid tang they kicked up bit and scorched her nasal passages, throat, and lungs.
She had her eyes closed, but she opened them when she felt cool grass beneath her sore paws. She chanced a look behind her and laughed, the sound getting lost amidst the rushes and rumbles. She was safe. She had made it past the Thunderpath. That put a bigger chunk of distance between her and her old life, something Scathe couldn’t be happier with. Deep inside, though, she knew this was a lie.
Turning back, Scathe saw a labyrinth of overlarge Twoleg homes and .. more Thunderpaths. She cocked her head, wondering what exactly Twolegs would need these gigantic houses for. Brushing that thought off she trekked for the heart of this strange place, following the grass until again her paws touched rough stone.
Here, networks of tiny rock paths crossed each other, masses of Twolegs crossing each other and more Monsters ruling the streets again. Scathe watched as one Twoleg rushed out into the street, arms waving wildly as a bright yellow monster slowed down before stopping in front of him. The Twoleg scrambled inside and off they took.
Stupid, she thought. They looked like they had completely lost it, and all to get in a monster?
Not thinking, Scathe noticed a grassy clearing quite a few foxlengths from where she stood now, across these weird paths. Not many Twolegs were going there, so she deemed it safe. Mind swimming with the thought of sleeping someplace comfortable and cool for the night and away from this filth and smells that burned her lungs, she started across the road, not even noticing the monster barreling toward her. By the time she turned her head and her icy blue eyes opened wide in shock, it was almost too late.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere a brown-and-white blur shot toward her and pushed her out of the way as the monster made a peculiar honking noise and ran off without even slowing down. Scathe’s chest rose and fell quickly as she regained her breath, noticing the sharp sting in her left shoulder. A scrape, obviously, from the rough stone. Somehow the blur – apparently another cat – had propelled both of them onto the other side of the path.
A fuzzy brown ball was half on top of her, its breathing much the same. “Are .. you daft?” the male voice wheezed. “Could’ve gotten yourself killed .. even a little kitten knows better than to do that.” A white-hot rage filled up inside the she-cat. Who was this flea-bitten rouge to tell her what to do? She was Scathe, a named that all kits trembled when they heard, that all older cats hissed in hatred at. This cat was a nobody.
“Well I’m sorry,” Scathe snapped, shaking the tom off of her. She shook out her gray fur indignantly. “Those monsters have no respect for anyone but themselves, honestly.”
The other cat got up and looked at her. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Scathe glared. “What’s that supposed to mean, you overgrown furball?”
“I just saved your life and I get no thanks?”
“Oh.” Scathe pretended to look sorry. “I’m sorry you had to waste your precious time on me. Do me a favor, rouge, and leave me to die next time.” She turned and took off for the clearing, seeing the shadows on the ground fade and grow with each cloud that passed over the full moon. Full moon, Scathe thought longingly. I wonder if .. no. I mustn’t think that way. The Gatherings had done nothing but ruin my life and exile me.
She didn’t notice the extra set of pawsteps following close behind her as she stopped by a puddle to get a drink. It felt like her throat had been set aflame. Flames. Screaming cats, shrieks of pain and terror, Thunderstar’s multicolored tail poking out lifelessly from a tree, where was that maniacal laughter coming from? Oh no, that was her. All the pain, it brought so much pleasure ..
Another reflection loomed in the water and Scathe stopped drinking long enough to sigh. “What do you want?” she asked haughtily when she straightened back up, immediately feeling better. Snapping at someone released a sort of tension held between her muscular shoulder blades. Bottling up anger never led to anything good. The rouge cat stared back at her in the same way that he had back in the paths, but now that they were under the silvery moonlight, Scathe noticed something different about this cat .. like his eyes weren’t right ..
“You’re blind,” Scathe stated dumbly, noticing the milky white color and unfocused gaze of a sightless animal. That question should have been prying, but the rouge didn't act like he was offended, which was a good thing. It meant that he was more easygoing than his rugged appearance suggested. He did hold the vestiges of once-great beauty, though. His fur gleamed in the light a certain way that suggested that, if he had a good cleaning, he'd belong straight in a Twoleg home, not out in the dangerous streets.
The rouge snorted. “Of course I am. I have been all my life.”
“So, how did you know to push me out of the way, then?”
“I guessed,” the rouge replied back, a mocking grin on his face. “I’m Chamber, by the way.”
“Scathe. And I really doubt that you guessed. You had to have known somehow.”
“Scathe?” he iterated while holding back a laugh. “What kind of name is that? Did your humans give it to you?” Scathe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me. If you’re talking about Twolegs, then no. I’m a leader, or, I was before I left my home about a week ago.”
Chamber gave her a hard look in the direction he figured her voice was coming from. “You’re one of those forest cats, aren’t you? That lives in Clans or whatever it is?”
Scathe tossed her head proudly. “I didn’t live in a Clan. I was leader of a rouge pack,” she meowed. Chamber gave his white chest fur a few quick licks before answering with, “So why’d you leave?” Nosy animal, Scathe thought. Oh well, might as well entertain the poor soul so he could leave her alone and stop assuming and asking so many questions.
A large cloud passed over the face of the moon, cutting off the almost-StarCan-like glow from Chamber’s fur and dousing the clearing in dark shadows. Scathe shrugged, pawing at the dirt with her front paw. “Too many bad memories, Chamber. Haven’t you ever run away from a problem?”
There wasn’t even a pause before Chamber said, “Yes. When I was a kitten.”
“What was it?” Scathe asked eagerly. Maybe she wasn’t the only basketcase left. Maybe Chamber could come back with her, if she even decided to come back into the forest. They could rule Stealthpack together, maybe give the Pack a bigger name that would spread past the forest’s boundaries.
“I had humans, those things you called ‘Twolegs’,” Chamber started, settling down on the ground and wrapping his tail around his white forepaws. Scathe settled down across from him, almost close enough that their breath mingled. Scathe closed her eyes for a moment, wishing that she didn’t feel this way for this rouge. “They raised me from kithood. They raised my entire family, actually. We were showcats.”
“What are those?” Scathe interrupted, confused. Chamber laughed softly, his raspy voice grainy and penetrating. “It means that we were bred to be put into shows for human judging. We could win all these prizes. My family almost always won the ‘Best in Show’ category, but of course, I couldn’t enter.” His tone dropped, now sounding almost bitter. Scathe made a soft “oh” sound when she realized. “Because you were .. blind, right?”
Chamber nodded, lip curling in disgust. “I couldn’t handle it anymore. My humans didn’t know what to do with me and my parents and brothers and sisters didn’t know either. So, I ran away in the middle of the night. I got out the door as the female human was closing it and ran straight for the city, which is where we are right now,” he said.
A still silence settled over the two cats, Scathe trying to decide what to say. “So what are you telling me?” she finally got out. Truthfully, she was almost afraid of the answer, because after all, what good news had she ever gotten? You're crazy, Scathe. You're no good as a leader, Scathe. I can bet five mousetails that if you ran away no one would even notice that you were gone. Scathe shook her head, snarling softly. I won't let my past get me here. I'm far, far away from my old life, so why does it keep haunting me?
The cloud passed, sending them back into moonlight. Chamber got up, a smirk quirking the edges of his lips. “What I’m telling you, Scathe,” he said quietly, leaning into Scathe’s gray flank, “is you should go home. There are people there who miss you, even if you don’t notice it."
“But-” Scathe started, only to have Chamber brush his tail against her mouth to quiet her. “Don’t. Go and don’t look back.”
Scathe hesitated. Chamber nodded and she took off, stopping only when Chamber called out to her. “Something in my heart told me someone was going to get hurt,” he meowed, smiling. “It felt good to be someone’s guardian angel.” Scathe hadn’t looked back, but she felt the pinch of tears. Blinking fervently to ward them off, she ran as fast as she could back to the edge of the Thunderpath, barely stopping to look before running across, not slowing down until she was deep into the forest and the first strains of Stealthpack scent overtook the city smell.
That hadn't lasted long, really. Scathe couldn't leave home, Chamber had made that completely clear. Her icy blue eyes looked across the territory that had become so much like home to her. She would always have a special place in her heart for AutumnClan, because, after all, she had grown up there, become leader there. Truthfully, it was horrible that everyone had trusted her and she had let them down, all because she was crazy.
Scathe's lips quirked in a rare smile as she remembered her former mentor, Shallowsmoke. His memory was tinged with the horrible disappointment she felt sear through her as she caught his old eyes in the midst of the smoke and haze that had made up that clearing all those moons ago. He had tried to help her all through her life, almost like he knew exactly what was wrong with her. He had been one of the few that believed in whatever she did, no matter what, and she appreciated that, no matter how bloodthirsty this new side would make her.
A chill wind, unusual for this time of the year, blew and Scathe inhaled deeply. She was back home, where she belonged. Sure, there would be haters. The ghosts of her past would always haunt her, but right now, none of that mattered. She was the leader of the most feared rouge band in the forest. Starting down the rocky hill, she knew she would never forget the misty-eyed city tom with the raspy voice and words of wisdom.
This was home.
[/font]The territory, it hadn’t changed. And even as Scathe stood on the pinnacle of the hill overlooking her former home, she felt a pang of homesickness. But, over what? She blinked her large blue eyes, darkened with hidden secrets and tribulations; she flicked back her scarred ears, souvenirs of past battles; flicked her burnt gray tail, a scar of what she had given to get where she was now.
But where was she, even? She had left her Pack, failed herself, failed everything she had ever worked for. It’s all Halfstar’s fault, she thought bitterly. He’s the reason I’m here, will always be here. He’s my reason as to why I’m not still leading AutumnClan. Deep down, though, Scathe knew that that last part was a lie. She hadn’t been cut out to lead AutumnClan; look what it had gotten her. A one-way ticket to DirtClan should she fail under the enemy claw, like that was hardly something to wait her last breath for.
The somewhat-cool wind swept over the barren rocks, ruffling her thick gray fur. Long gone was the gleaming sheen of tortoiseshell, the playfulness of those blue eyes. Scathe barely did so much as blink at the thought. She did, however, open her mouth to taste the air, test it to see if it still had that feel of home. It did, and for the first time tears pinched her eyelids. These territories were where the she-cat had grown up, where she had trained and fought and finally snapped and banished herself from the sacred bonds of the four Clans.
Down below was rocky riverbed, a part of territory that she remembered well. Just past these rocks were the dens. Just past these rocks Stealthpack lived, ate, and slept. How were they getting along? Scathe had lost count of the moon cycles that she had been gone. Surely her Pack couldn’t have survived without her brilliant leadership and her former inexorable -
Oh, who am I kidding? she thought, interrupting her tirade. I’m a failure, okay? If I can’t lead these pathetic rogues, I can’t lead anything. Which, she figured, maybe she couldn’t. The Gathering was proof of that.
Let’s jump back to when she had left.
The cool late-summer breeze ruffled Scathe’s gray fur as she slunk beneath undergrowth, eyes nothing but slivers in the silvery moonlight. Her paws hit the ground with barely a mouse of a noise, though she thought that she’d wake the dead surely with the way her heart was pounding. All that she could think was, I’m a deserter, I’m a deserter.
A cloud blew in front of the moon’s face, temporarily obscuring Scathe’s clear line of vision. The she-cat, however, took this as a sign. Despite how scared she was feeling, how the omen made sweat prickle under her fur, she continued on until no scent of StealthPack or the Clans lingered on the air. Now the stench of kittypets and Twolegs took over. There was another smell, though, pervading Scathe's senses. She paused, head cocked and mouth half-open as she tried to decipher it to no avail. What was it? Something akin to metal, like fresh blood, dirty like old rainwater. It didn't raise a red flag, though, so it couldn't have been hat important.
She stayed on the edge of the brush until dawn seeped through the thick twilight and colored the world in its golden and pink hues. Then she stepped out, pink nose to the air and white claws unsheathed for quick protection. Out in the open, in the midst of the Twoleg life, how much danger could she get in, anyway? Surely before the monsters would get her someone would notice this lone, gray cat and try to save her. Twolegs were always trying to be valiant, saving cats like their lives depended on it.
Spread before her was a magnificent sight; flat, gray earth, much like the path the Twolegs used not far from her territory. But this time, it was so .. different. There was no sense of familiarity about this place. Gone was the forest smells, gone was the ground that Scathe knew so well. She would have to get used to new things if she ever wanted to move on.
Monsters zoomed back and forth, sending acrid bursts of hot air over Scathe's fur. Normally, she'd just wait for a lull in the line before dashing across, but this line looked like it never ended. She knew she could gamble with her life, take a chance and make a mad dash for the other side, but since she left home, Scathe had taken to thinking things out a lot more than not.
I'm a pack leader, she thought valiantly. If I can't run across a simple path, how can I ever lead StealthPack again?
The path stretched out endlessly from horizon to horizon. The line of monsters never seemed to cease, but Scathe knew that if she didn’t take a chance soon she’d be here all night. Taking a deep breath, Scathe briefly hoped that she wouldn’t get killed before making a mad dash for the other side. The roaring of the monsters was amplified, the acrid tang they kicked up bit and scorched her nasal passages, throat, and lungs.
She had her eyes closed, but she opened them when she felt cool grass beneath her sore paws. She chanced a look behind her and laughed, the sound getting lost amidst the rushes and rumbles. She was safe. She had made it past the Thunderpath. That put a bigger chunk of distance between her and her old life, something Scathe couldn’t be happier with. Deep inside, though, she knew this was a lie.
Turning back, Scathe saw a labyrinth of overlarge Twoleg homes and .. more Thunderpaths. She cocked her head, wondering what exactly Twolegs would need these gigantic houses for. Brushing that thought off she trekked for the heart of this strange place, following the grass until again her paws touched rough stone.
Here, networks of tiny rock paths crossed each other, masses of Twolegs crossing each other and more Monsters ruling the streets again. Scathe watched as one Twoleg rushed out into the street, arms waving wildly as a bright yellow monster slowed down before stopping in front of him. The Twoleg scrambled inside and off they took.
Stupid, she thought. They looked like they had completely lost it, and all to get in a monster?
Not thinking, Scathe noticed a grassy clearing quite a few foxlengths from where she stood now, across these weird paths. Not many Twolegs were going there, so she deemed it safe. Mind swimming with the thought of sleeping someplace comfortable and cool for the night and away from this filth and smells that burned her lungs, she started across the road, not even noticing the monster barreling toward her. By the time she turned her head and her icy blue eyes opened wide in shock, it was almost too late.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere a brown-and-white blur shot toward her and pushed her out of the way as the monster made a peculiar honking noise and ran off without even slowing down. Scathe’s chest rose and fell quickly as she regained her breath, noticing the sharp sting in her left shoulder. A scrape, obviously, from the rough stone. Somehow the blur – apparently another cat – had propelled both of them onto the other side of the path.
A fuzzy brown ball was half on top of her, its breathing much the same. “Are .. you daft?” the male voice wheezed. “Could’ve gotten yourself killed .. even a little kitten knows better than to do that.” A white-hot rage filled up inside the she-cat. Who was this flea-bitten rouge to tell her what to do? She was Scathe, a named that all kits trembled when they heard, that all older cats hissed in hatred at. This cat was a nobody.
“Well I’m sorry,” Scathe snapped, shaking the tom off of her. She shook out her gray fur indignantly. “Those monsters have no respect for anyone but themselves, honestly.”
The other cat got up and looked at her. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Scathe glared. “What’s that supposed to mean, you overgrown furball?”
“I just saved your life and I get no thanks?”
“Oh.” Scathe pretended to look sorry. “I’m sorry you had to waste your precious time on me. Do me a favor, rouge, and leave me to die next time.” She turned and took off for the clearing, seeing the shadows on the ground fade and grow with each cloud that passed over the full moon. Full moon, Scathe thought longingly. I wonder if .. no. I mustn’t think that way. The Gatherings had done nothing but ruin my life and exile me.
She didn’t notice the extra set of pawsteps following close behind her as she stopped by a puddle to get a drink. It felt like her throat had been set aflame. Flames. Screaming cats, shrieks of pain and terror, Thunderstar’s multicolored tail poking out lifelessly from a tree, where was that maniacal laughter coming from? Oh no, that was her. All the pain, it brought so much pleasure ..
Another reflection loomed in the water and Scathe stopped drinking long enough to sigh. “What do you want?” she asked haughtily when she straightened back up, immediately feeling better. Snapping at someone released a sort of tension held between her muscular shoulder blades. Bottling up anger never led to anything good. The rouge cat stared back at her in the same way that he had back in the paths, but now that they were under the silvery moonlight, Scathe noticed something different about this cat .. like his eyes weren’t right ..
“You’re blind,” Scathe stated dumbly, noticing the milky white color and unfocused gaze of a sightless animal. That question should have been prying, but the rouge didn't act like he was offended, which was a good thing. It meant that he was more easygoing than his rugged appearance suggested. He did hold the vestiges of once-great beauty, though. His fur gleamed in the light a certain way that suggested that, if he had a good cleaning, he'd belong straight in a Twoleg home, not out in the dangerous streets.
The rouge snorted. “Of course I am. I have been all my life.”
“So, how did you know to push me out of the way, then?”
“I guessed,” the rouge replied back, a mocking grin on his face. “I’m Chamber, by the way.”
“Scathe. And I really doubt that you guessed. You had to have known somehow.”
“Scathe?” he iterated while holding back a laugh. “What kind of name is that? Did your humans give it to you?” Scathe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me. If you’re talking about Twolegs, then no. I’m a leader, or, I was before I left my home about a week ago.”
Chamber gave her a hard look in the direction he figured her voice was coming from. “You’re one of those forest cats, aren’t you? That lives in Clans or whatever it is?”
Scathe tossed her head proudly. “I didn’t live in a Clan. I was leader of a rouge pack,” she meowed. Chamber gave his white chest fur a few quick licks before answering with, “So why’d you leave?” Nosy animal, Scathe thought. Oh well, might as well entertain the poor soul so he could leave her alone and stop assuming and asking so many questions.
A large cloud passed over the face of the moon, cutting off the almost-StarCan-like glow from Chamber’s fur and dousing the clearing in dark shadows. Scathe shrugged, pawing at the dirt with her front paw. “Too many bad memories, Chamber. Haven’t you ever run away from a problem?”
There wasn’t even a pause before Chamber said, “Yes. When I was a kitten.”
“What was it?” Scathe asked eagerly. Maybe she wasn’t the only basketcase left. Maybe Chamber could come back with her, if she even decided to come back into the forest. They could rule Stealthpack together, maybe give the Pack a bigger name that would spread past the forest’s boundaries.
“I had humans, those things you called ‘Twolegs’,” Chamber started, settling down on the ground and wrapping his tail around his white forepaws. Scathe settled down across from him, almost close enough that their breath mingled. Scathe closed her eyes for a moment, wishing that she didn’t feel this way for this rouge. “They raised me from kithood. They raised my entire family, actually. We were showcats.”
“What are those?” Scathe interrupted, confused. Chamber laughed softly, his raspy voice grainy and penetrating. “It means that we were bred to be put into shows for human judging. We could win all these prizes. My family almost always won the ‘Best in Show’ category, but of course, I couldn’t enter.” His tone dropped, now sounding almost bitter. Scathe made a soft “oh” sound when she realized. “Because you were .. blind, right?”
Chamber nodded, lip curling in disgust. “I couldn’t handle it anymore. My humans didn’t know what to do with me and my parents and brothers and sisters didn’t know either. So, I ran away in the middle of the night. I got out the door as the female human was closing it and ran straight for the city, which is where we are right now,” he said.
A still silence settled over the two cats, Scathe trying to decide what to say. “So what are you telling me?” she finally got out. Truthfully, she was almost afraid of the answer, because after all, what good news had she ever gotten? You're crazy, Scathe. You're no good as a leader, Scathe. I can bet five mousetails that if you ran away no one would even notice that you were gone. Scathe shook her head, snarling softly. I won't let my past get me here. I'm far, far away from my old life, so why does it keep haunting me?
The cloud passed, sending them back into moonlight. Chamber got up, a smirk quirking the edges of his lips. “What I’m telling you, Scathe,” he said quietly, leaning into Scathe’s gray flank, “is you should go home. There are people there who miss you, even if you don’t notice it."
“But-” Scathe started, only to have Chamber brush his tail against her mouth to quiet her. “Don’t. Go and don’t look back.”
Scathe hesitated. Chamber nodded and she took off, stopping only when Chamber called out to her. “Something in my heart told me someone was going to get hurt,” he meowed, smiling. “It felt good to be someone’s guardian angel.” Scathe hadn’t looked back, but she felt the pinch of tears. Blinking fervently to ward them off, she ran as fast as she could back to the edge of the Thunderpath, barely stopping to look before running across, not slowing down until she was deep into the forest and the first strains of Stealthpack scent overtook the city smell.
That hadn't lasted long, really. Scathe couldn't leave home, Chamber had made that completely clear. Her icy blue eyes looked across the territory that had become so much like home to her. She would always have a special place in her heart for AutumnClan, because, after all, she had grown up there, become leader there. Truthfully, it was horrible that everyone had trusted her and she had let them down, all because she was crazy.
Scathe's lips quirked in a rare smile as she remembered her former mentor, Shallowsmoke. His memory was tinged with the horrible disappointment she felt sear through her as she caught his old eyes in the midst of the smoke and haze that had made up that clearing all those moons ago. He had tried to help her all through her life, almost like he knew exactly what was wrong with her. He had been one of the few that believed in whatever she did, no matter what, and she appreciated that, no matter how bloodthirsty this new side would make her.
A chill wind, unusual for this time of the year, blew and Scathe inhaled deeply. She was back home, where she belonged. Sure, there would be haters. The ghosts of her past would always haunt her, but right now, none of that mattered. She was the leader of the most feared rouge band in the forest. Starting down the rocky hill, she knew she would never forget the misty-eyed city tom with the raspy voice and words of wisdom.
This was home.
