[RC/OPEN] The Stranger

Kestrelpaw scouted the area carefully, watching the grass sway slowly in the soft breeze, watching carefully for the tell-tale signs of twitching grass which would signify a mouse or shrew. He kneaded the ground impatiently when Chervilpaw's cry startled him out of his hunting mindset. With a leap he was up and off, dashing to his sister's aid, his protective nature kicking in.

When he arrived panting and out of breath, the sight of Chervilpaw staring at some misshapen form on the ground that reeked greeted him.

"There's no dog here," he snapped, annoyed that he was pulled from his hunt for no apparent reason, "just some stinky crowfood."

He padded up beside his sister and stopped. Lying there in front of them was no mere crowfood, it was a cat. What remained of a cat, that is. Kestrelpaw gazed in shocked horror upon the torn and tattered body, he had never seen a dead cat before, let alone one in such a condition.

Trembling at the knees he looked to his sister, "Surely," he swallowed as the words stuck in his throat, "surely that isn't a clan cat."

He sniffed the air, testing it with his tough, trying to make sense of the muddled scents. The only one he could make out for sure was a musty and vicious scent that he could only identify as a dog, just as his sister had proclaimed before.

[How weird is it these guys are going to be warriors next month? Feels like we haven't really done anything with them yet]

In reply to Chervilpaw’s cry the grasses rustled. Her head snapped to the side. Was it the dog, hungry for another taste of cat? Just like that day the wrong side of the border her senses took a moment to force through the icy sheen of her panic. She took a deep breath and composed herself, just in time to make out her brother’s form. Nothing to worry about; it was only her loyal protector responding to her cry for help.

She managed a mrrow of greeting, all puffed out with scraggly patches where the fur over her scars hadn’t quite grown back yet. She shrunk back at the ferocity of his reply, not so much from the weight of his words than the fact he hadn’t noticed yet.

Oh Kestrelpaw…

He did so much to protect her and Flutterpaw, she was tempted to tell him it was nothing, spare him the sight of the broken body. She opened her mouth but by the time she’d found the words he was shaking so hard, she knew he’d realized. She longed to press her side against his to comfort him but a true warrior wouldn’t so she didn’t.

The blood drained from Chervilpaw’s face. A clan cat? it couldn’t be. She started pacing around the dark form, drawing near as she dared. It can’t be. She repeated stubbornly but faces swum forwards anyway; Berrymist, little Smokykit. It couldn’t be Smokykit -- she wasn’t half this big -- but surrounded by blood and her own fear scent Chervilpaw wasn’t so sure.

As what was once the stranger’s face, now a hunk of torn flesh, and what remained of the bloodstained collar drew into view Chervilpaw relaxed.

“Can’t be,” she said, in a stranger’s oddly calm voice, “unless Ivyclan has started wearing collars.”

((Warriors?  Already?  Goodness me, they're still kits in my eyes.))

Kestrelpaw watched nervously as Chervilpaw leaned in closer for a better look.  His legs trembled with a will of their own and he wished they would stop.  In his mind, Kestrelpaw couldn't help but remember Chervilpaws encounter with Ivyclan, and compare what could have happened to his sister with the cat who was now laying in front of them.

Chervilpaw spoke quietly and in a matter-of-fact tone, "Can’t be, unless Ivyclan has started wearing collars."

Kestrelpaw looked around his sister to where her line of sight led, sure enough, there were the remnants of a collar looped around what must've been the cat's neck.  A wave of relief washed over Kestrelpaw, he wasn't sure what he would've done if they had recognised the cat.

The rational part of his mind then started to kick in as he realized they should tell someone of what they found.  And possibly see if the threat that killed this cat was still near.  He sniffed the air, parting his lips, trying to scent wich way the dog that did this had gone.  It was stale, perhaps a day old, and Kestrelpaw followed it for a bit to see if the scent got any stronger.  He completely lost the scent as he tracked it through some bushes, though.  It was plain that the perpetrator of this evil deed was gone.

He turned to his sister, "Whatever it was, it's gone now.  We need to tell someone, should one of us stay here while the other goes to camp?"

Chervilpaw looked down at her paws as her brother leaned around to confirm the identity of this cat. A thousand 'what ifs', each less likely than the last, swirled around her head until they made her weak at the knees. Collars came off. Kestrelpaw didn’t seem concerned and Chervilpaw’s breathing eased a little.

Of course her brother was already spurred into motion. She watched on unsteady legs as he checked the surrounding area for the dog. Shame pushed through the numbness. What kind of warrior forgot to check for danger? She should have done so right away.

She was glad though, that she brought him into this, if he wasn’t here she would still be standing staring stock still at the body. She wouldn’t have checked for the collar and if the dog was near… well there might just be two bodies on the ground. This once, she supposed, it was okay to lean on him.

“You go; I found the body I should wait here.” She said.

It didn’t make a whole lot of sense when she said it out loud but her legs felt like they couldn’t take two steps, let alone run back to camp.

((I figured the kitties would need a little warrior help here :3 Hope you don't mind))

Fallowstep padded her way through the plush grass, her long limbs carrying her nimbly across the territory at a brisk yet silent pace, the pads of her paws sinking in to the soft earth below her with each ginormous stride. Her ears swiveled high in the air atop her narrow head as they tried to pick up on the sounds of nearby prey, her parted maw drinking in the air around her, tasting for any sort of prize she could take back to camp with her. She wasn't headed towards any particular area, though she found herself in Badger knoll several minutes after leaving camp, her legs moving through the territory from muscle memory; Fallowstep often came here to hunt on her own, given that abandoned badger burrows were ideal places to find rabbits and other large prey. One the rare chance that she actually encountered some sort of badger or fox, the she-cat's gangly limbs would help her easily outrun the creature, hence warrior her name. Usually the young warrior was met with nothing but the stale scent of badgers and the mouthwatering scent of soon-to-be fresh kill, so when a large gust of fear and Rose Clan scent punched her in the nose, Fallowstep froze in her tracks.

She pushed down the initial panic that churned in her belly and dropped as low to the ground as she could, shoulders and ears pressed back uncomfortably as she crawled forward. Fallowstep was not new to the ideal of battle, though it was never smart to go rushing in, especially when her strong suit was diversion and redirection, not strength. She relaxed slightly when she scented two Rose Clan apprentices in the clearing before her, hearing their panicky and hushed voices before she saw them. She extended her limbs so she was standing tall once more, grimacing for a moment as her muscles protested their previous position. She took a few cautious steps forward, letting out a soft hum through a shut maw to alert the apprentices of her presence; She didn't want to scare them after all.  Her eyes narrowed softly as she laid her eyes on the mangled lump of flesh that might've once been recognizable as a cat. "What's going on?" Fallowstep spoke lightly, her words just oozing with kindness and completely contradicting with her intimidating size and stature, her maw lowering to sniff along the cats body. Stale. Blood. Kitty pet food. Dog? No not dog.. What was that?

((No, that's totally fine for you to join up, I was hoping someone else would join in soon. Also, how should I go about getting to the camp, Leopard? Should I make another thread there?))

Nodding sagely to his sister, Kestrelpaw turned to go, a tingle of nervousness running down his spine. He was so engrossed in the task at hand that he didn't notice Fallowstep's warning hum of approach, he didn't notice her at all in fact, and very nearly ran straight into her. A hiss of surprise and fear was out of him before he recognised Fallowstep.

"What's going on?" She asked, sweetly.

It took Kestrelpaw a moment to compose himself, his thick fur still fluffed from her surprise arrival. He mentally kicked himself for becoming too focused on the now that he had forgotten to be observant. How was he supposed to become a warrior if he wasn't even aware of his surroundings?

"Er, a body, we, I mean, Chervilpaw found this body. I was about to go get someone from camp, should I still go? I probably should shouldn't I?" Kestrelpaw's words came out in a tumble, he hardly even knew what he was saying.

(The more the merrier u.u Umbra, honestly it's up to you. If you feel like he'd make a full report and that's something you would like to write out, then making a new thread would probably be best. Otherwise if you feel it's going to be a short exchange, you could just have him exit and reenter the thread, or just keep it in this thread.)

“Well—“ Chervilpaw froze.

Her ears swivelled around furiously searching for some sign she was imagining things. All she could hear was her own ragged breathing and further out a strange kind of half-silence. The sound took a moment to place but when she did her blood ran cold. It was the sound that followed a hunter from upwind. Something was coming towards them. The air tasted no different, whatever predator this was it had the sense to approach from downwind. Beside her, Kestrelpaw seemed to be so engrossed in leaving he hadn’t noticed. Was she imagining it then? The back of her neck prickled in answer.

A soft hum carried through the clearing and the tension fled from Chervilpaw. Someone had come who knew what to do. A gangly ticked form emerged and the apprentice bit back her meow of greeting. Fallowstep!A true warrior would speak in hushed voices and patrol signals so as to not scare prey. A purr rumbled unbidden through her chest, Fallowstep was an experienced warrior. Everything was going to be okay. Chervilpaw searched for the words to explain without sounding like a scared kit and came up blank. Her mouth gaped open but Kestrelpaw had the words for both of them. She closed her mouth and nodded.