Warrior Cat Clans 2 (WCC2 aka Classic) is a roleplay site inspired by the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Whether you are a fan of the books or new to the Warrior cats world, WCC2 offers a diverse environment with over a decade’s worth of lore for you - and your characters - to explore. Join us today and become a part of our ongoing story!
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As she dragged the squirrel on back toward the camp, its scruffy tail dragged through the mud and left a long trail between her deep pawprints. She adjusted her grip on the prey but stumbled in a particular wet section of mud, and it sploshed under her paws as she slid forward. She shifted naturally to counteract it, but the added weight of her swinging midsection threw off her balance, and she went sprawling in the mud. Breezestep hissed in frustration. She had fallen on her side, and the thick mud had come far enough up her legs it was a fall of only a few inches at best, but it smeared mud across her once-pristine once-fluffy grey-and-white coat. The queen heaved herself back to her paws and retrieved the body of the squirrel, which had sunken deep into the mud and was almost unrecognizable.
After a trek to the river to wash it off, she returned to the camp and tossed the sodden prey onto the fresh-kill pile. Her paws ached and her back was stiff and she was so tired of being pregnant - yet she couldn't complain too much. Every pain was worth it, to know she had done the impossible, and she was going to have kittens. The wet she-cat shivered as she curled her tail around herself. Soon, they would be out here, and they would need her warmth and her prey to keep them happy and healthy. And what if she lost some? It wasn't uncommon, and the seasons were growing colder.... Breezestep closed her eyes and prayed silently to StarClan that it wouldn't come to that.
Her green eyes flashed open, and then they hardened as she turned to look around once more. "Now where is my mousebrain of a mate?" she muttered.
It wasn't at all unusual for the regular warriors of Earthclan to catch a small glimpse of their newest Mudlark Commander maybe once a day. Twice, if they were lucky. Since his promotion and the subsequent news of his mate's pregnancy several weeks prior, the young white and ginger tom had grown increasingly dedicated to his duties and heavy work load as the Mudlarks prepared for the inevitable Leaf-Bare to come. There were some days where the only the Leader and Breezestep would ever see him, and sometimes it was his mate alone. Despite Creekghost's determination to prove to the clan that he was worthy of his position, not a single day went by that he didn't stop for at least a little while to check on his beloved and their kits-to-be.
Bounding ever gracefully over the puddles of mud, the lean frame of the Mudlark Commander practically flew into camp, his jaw filled nearly to the point of stuffing with a collection of small prey to be added to the pile. A squirrel, three sparrows, and an unlucky frog; he had gotten up at the very break of dawn to go out hunting early, and was more than proud of the results. Dropping his collection on top of the wet squirrel previously added, he stared down at the decently-sized mound with a pleased grin. There would be more than enough food to go around today. But would they be able to keep this up for the rest of Leaf-Fall? What if their storage ran out? What if the clan had to starve through Leaf-Bare? Who would survive that? His kits were coming soon; he can't let that happen!
Turing around sharply to sprint out of camp again, Creekghost jerked in surprise as Breezestep was standing directly in front of him, staring him directly in the eye. Instead of greeting her, like any normal cat would do, he instead took notice of the large patch of mud that had splashed onto her soft pelt, and grinned at her playfully."Oh dear! It looks like someone has replaced my beautiful mate with pile of dirt! Oh where could she be?"
As she spoke, she saw him enter, and waited in silence for the tom to take notice of her. She was determined to remain stoic and harsh if need be, but his casual joke made her waver as she felt a surge of affection for him. Where had everyone gone wrong? Since when was she the responsible, serious once, and he was the one goofing around like there wasn't a problem the world? Maybe she was being too harsh on him; he was doing his job, and he was still checking in on her every day. Maybe he was being a fine mate, and it was just the pregnancy that made her upset; maybe this had been his personality all along and she just hadn't noticed before because he lived across the border. She couldn't say why she felt this way, or if she was right to, but the queen could not stifle her feelings of shame that her mate was betraying her, in a great and obvious way just out of the reach of her understanding.
Her mind refused to accommodate her with any answers, so she suppressed her conflict for the moment and offered Creekghost an exasperated, tired smile. "You try hunting with a bunch of kittens kicking you and see how dirty you get," Breezestep responded, stretching out to nose him affectionately, then reaching up with the other paw to smack him soundly on the side of the muzzle. "Besides, don't you know better than to comment on a pregnant queen's appearance?"
Creekghost chuckled softly, pausing a moment to groom his whiskers back in order after the half-hearted blow from his slightly-annoyed mate. "I know, I know, love," he purred with a more genuine smile, leaning down to lick her ear in an attempt to make up for the teasing. "I'm just trying to keep the mood light; I know that we've both been stressed out lately. I guess this is the life of parents-to-be, huh?" Nuzzling her with another purr of laughter, the Mudlark Commander took a seat beside Breezestep, glancing down at her swelled, mud-covered stomach. "You're pretty far along now, right? Any idea of how many kits we're going to have? When do you want me to move your nest to the nursery? Is there enough roo-" The tom stopped himself mid-sentence, sighing tiredly. "Too many questions again. Sorry."
Since he only ever visits his mate once a day, Creekghost unintentionally ended up in the habit of wondering about different aspects of the pregnancy while out working, only to ask the questions he came up with all at once when he finally got to see her. It didn't take long before he realized how overwhelming it was for the young she-cat, but although he promised to stop, seeing each other less and less only increased both the amount of questions and amount of worrying that piled up in the tom's brain. And those worries only pushed him to work even harder.
All her frustrations seemed trivial when she with him, like she was worried about nothing. She shook her head with a soft, affectionate purr as she listened to him go on. It was just the pregnancy messing with her brain; sitting next to him, looking at the handsome commander that was her mate, she knew it was true. She was blessed with kits and the perfect mate and the perfect clan; she shouldn't worry so much. She raised one eyebrow at his stream of questions, waiting for him to stop before she hit him again.
Sitting down, she nuzzled his cheek and leaned into his side. "Maybe three or four kits, but there could be more hiding in there. It certainly feels like a lot." Her tail swished once and she shot him a hard glance. "I started moving in three days ago, Creekghost. I thought you were going to come help, but I've barely seen you. Emberleaf has been helping me find the good spots in the den." Her friend had lost her first litter and only half of her second had survived, but she had been overjoyed to help Breezestep all the same.
Dear Starclan, how did he ever deserve such a patient mate? Creekghost supposed that any other she-cat would've stopped bothering with him by this point, but Breezestep never seemed to be tired of him; a bit disappointed at times, sure, but she always forgave him in the end and was always happy to see him when he came to visit. Despite the trouble his bloodline must've given their ancestors, perhaps the cats up in Silverpelt had finally decided to have some pity on him; and not make him suffer for a crime he never committed.
"Honestly it doesn't matter how many kits we have," He admitted as he listened to her calmly answer his questions. "Well, I guess having more than one would be fun, but no matter what they'll be our kits, and I'll love them no matter what." When his mate mentioned the move to the nursery, he frowned, sighing in frustration. "Geez, I missed it? I'm sorry Breeze, I got caught up in a bunch of patrols again. I promise I'll go out searching for the best, fluffiest bedding to put in your nest, okay? I promise."
She couldn't decide how many kits she wanted, so she was glad it wasn't up to her. Did she want a little daughter she could spoil, or a tom she could raise to be a strong? Why not a strong, powerful she-cat to lead the clan, and a meek but warm tomcat who tried his best? A single kitten to lavish all her attention on, or a group of siblings that could raise themselves, tussle in the mud while she yowled at them for dirtying their pelts? A pair of twins to get confused between but love equally, or a massive pile of kittens huddled around her so none of them would ever sleep cold? She wanted all of it, and yet she wanted none of it. She was still stick in an odd state where her fear dissuaded her, yet her love encouraged her.
"I know you'll try," she murmured, with a little sigh. "Look, Creekghost... I don't care if you missed building my nest, you'll have other chances. I don't care if you never do it, or if you don't bring me prey in the morning. But I need to be there for the kits, okay? Come by and teach them and play with them. Give them a father. Be there when they're promoted. I don't want to raise our kittens alone."
Her mate stared at her for a moment in complete, blindsided shock at her request. "Of course I'll be there for our kits!" Creekghost quickly answered, feeling almost hurt that Breezestep would even consider for a moment that he wouldn't. How could he not be? This was everything he had ever wanted; a chance to be a father and to give his kits that family that he never really had. His entire life had been split down the middle: his kithood spent with his mother when she was a leader of Toxicity, then his apprenticeship with his father in Waterclan. There was never a real unity in his family, and though both of his parents tried their best to be there for him, neither of them really ever was.
"Breezestep, listen to me. I know I'm not around all of the time right now, and words will never express how sorry I am for that. But I'm doing this for us, okay? I'm working to make sure that our kits' first moons, even though they'll be during Leaf-bare, will be fond memories that they'll always look back on with happiness. Not memories of cold and starvation, but of family and warmth. And let Starclan forbid it if I'm not able to give that to them."
Twin surges of affection and frustration rose in her. He wasn't listening. As much as she loved his faith and dedication, her worries had been building and building, and they were starting to spill over. She was growing impatient.
Stepping closer, the small she-cat stretched up to try and look him straight in the eye, instead of looking up. "No, you listen, Creekghost," she interrupted sternly. "I know you're trying to keep them warm and happy and fed, and I appreciate that, but you're not the only warrior in this clan! They will be taken care of, one way or another. But you're missing things now, and you can't miss things once they're born. I don't care if you've got a patrol, there's always another patrol, you make time to come down. You don't have to be here all the time... just enough to raise them. I don't want you to promise that you'll be there, I want you there. No excuses."
Her tail swished. Was he the problem, or was she? It was becoming harder and harder to tell what was a genuine concern, genuine anger, and what was pregnancy-fueled anger and paranoia.
"I know! I know, Breezestep!" It wasn't like Creekghost to raise his voice like this, but his mate's wild accusations of abandonment had run him to the edge of his patience. A few cats around them lifted their heads to stare at the couple, but he didn't take notice of them. "Where in Starclan's name have you gotten the idea that I'll just leave you to raise our kits alone? What have I done to deserve your claims that I won't be a good father? Is it because I've been gone lately? Newsflash, Breezestep: Leafbare is coming, and it's coming fast. Earthclan needs as many able-bodied warriors to step up as they can get. You won't get the chance to take care of these precious kits if you starve. We're between leaders, the clan is stressed, and I'm just doing what I can to help. If that somehow implies that I'll be a terrible parent, then I don't know what to tell you."
His voice trailed off, and he turned away to avoid his mate's gaze. To have Breezestep think that way about him, to even have to question whether her mate would be a good parent to their kits...it hurt. It really did. He didn't understand; what was he supposed to do? In Waterclan some pregnant she-cats had to insist that their mates leave them alone, as there was really nothing a tom could do to help them. Was his mate just under too much stress worrying about the pregnancy? But even so, he had no intention of not being a part of his kits' lives. He had to get that through to her.
Her grey-and-white fur bristled. "I'm not a mousebrain, Creekghost! I know leafbare is coming! But this is my clan. I know what the cold seasons is like, and I know we'll be fine. You aren't the only one in this clan capable of keeping us from starving." Her tail lashed in frustration. Why didn't he understand? "We're all trying to keep the clan looked after during the cold season, Creekghost, but we've survived moons without you and we'll continue to survive if you spend some time with your kits when they're born. And where did I get the idea? Maybe because you haven't been here like you said you would? Maybe because you're off running around trying to save the entire clan single-pawed while our kits are preparing to be born? If you aren't here now, how can I trust you'll be here then?"
Once, she would have been so proud to see him work so hard; and she was, but it wasn't the same anymore. When it was just the two of them, she wouldn't have cared if they only met occasionally, like in the old days, and she'd send him off on another hard day's of work without a worry. But things were different now. Why wouldn't he see that? They were introducing kits into the world, and she wanted them to be brought up like she had - with both parents affectionately clustered on either side, guiding her paws, helping her see the way. She had felt loved, knowing they were both there. As much as she loved her kits, she wasn't sure her love would make up for their father's absence.
"I'm not trying to be a hero, Breezestep! I'm just trying to help! To be a good warrior; to be more than the Starclan-forsaken useless lump of flesh that I am!" The world around him was beginning to become blurred. Was that from the tears in his eyes, or from the pure mental exhaustion he was facing? Did it even matter anymore? Creekghost's thoughts were so scattered at this point that it was getting difficult to register anything around him that wasn't Breezestep's frustrated and bitter scowl. He could barely understand the words leaving his own mouth, but nevertheless, he continued arguing. It was all he could do, at this point. "Do you have any idea how it felt for me? I couldn't fight for waterclan; I couldn't hunt, I could barely manage a border patrol, and obviously, I couldn't be a mentor. I was nothing. Nothing but a useless, cursed son of a Medicine Cat! You gave me everything, Breezestep! A home, a family, the chance to make up every single day I spent watching helplessly when I couldn't do anything for anyone. All I've ever wanted in my life you've already given me. These kits mean more to me than you'll ever know."
With a sigh, Creekghost walked straight past Breezestep with his ginger tail lashing agitatedly behind him; not bothering to wait for a reply. His head was pounding, and it felt like the ground was wobbling beneath his paws, but he made his way out of camp without any accident. "I'm going to clear my head. Don't follow me."
A growl rose in her throat, more upset and shocked then angry, as she watched him go. Her claws dug into the ground and her tail lashed. She wanted something to shout at him in defiance, some parting words to make up for the pain inside her, but words abandoned her. She struggled to choke down her anger, instead turning and pacing the length of the camp. Through the haze of her fury she was deeply hurt by his wounds, wounds that she hadn't knocked were there, wounds she had partially inflicted - and yet, she couldn't stanch the fury in her either. She was trembling with an awful sick feeling inside, and her anxiety wrestled with the despair and uncertainty and fed her emotions. She wasn't angry with him, but worried, deeply worried; but she couldn't figure out why.
--
Far away from the bickering pair, a sullen march was approaching their borders. The auburn she-cat had fallen back to the rear of the group, her head partially bowed to the ground, for once betraying her uncertainty. She was a cat without fear, and she knew there was nothing wrong with death - that there was no darkness awaiting her mother on the other side, and there was no reason to grieve. Was that what she was doing, grieving? There was no fear in her, but there was a foreign strangeness in her gut, an emptiness at the thought of Blakely that she couldn't place. It puzzled her, it almost offended her that there was was feeling an emotion she couldn't name. Suppressing a sigh, she raised her head, a calm smile placating the turmoil of her expression.
"Don't look so down now," she mewed lightly to the group. They all needed a morale boost, and she found that was her place in the patrol. Her optimism was unshaken, and she needed to look after everyone else. There would be time to herself later. "Come now, I bet most of you have never set paw on EarthClan land. This will be quite the adventure for you! And just think, you'll all get to see my good brother again, and see if he likes this water-forsaken barren land."
The tom didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from there, away from that disappointed look that ate at him from the inside. Creekghost's paws stumbled over each other; tripping and fumbling for balance, the rocks and twigs on the path in front of him feeling like looming obstacles for him to get over. Eventually, the tom found himself stopping at the riverbank, unsure of how he even ended up there. Gasping for breath, he stared into the crystal clear water...unable to recognize the face that stared back up at him. Something felt wrong. But his mind was so fuzzy that he couldn't figure out what it was.
--
A regal tortoiseshell confidently took the lead of the patrol, effortlessly navigating the small group across the marsh towards the border. For the most part, she kept quiet, unsure of what to say. Emotional support wasn't exactly her forte, but nevertheless, her heart went out to the young warrior. Gravelshell knew from experience how hard it was to lose a mother; the grief alone drove her away from Waterclan for moons. It was that very intense sympathy that led the former leader to volunteer for the strange patrol, though chances were she would've been chosen by Emberstar anyway. A visit across clan borders, for any reason, was a task best left up to the most experienced of warriors. Frowning at Celestialwarrior's attempt to lighten the mood, she lifted her head to sniff the air. "If my memory is correct, there should be an Earthclan patrol close to this border around this time of day. Be alert, you two."
Behind her, the fluffy silver tabby padding alongside Celestialwarrior nodded curtly, her feather-like tail still placed on her mourning clanmate's back comfortingly. It was her status as a Senior Warrior that made Swangrace qualified as the final member of the patrol, her own friendships with both siblings in question notwithstanding. She stayed close to Celestialwarrior throughout the whole trek, serving as the natural shoulder to lean on that she was. Smiling a little at her friend's attempt at humor, the sight of movement ahead of her quickly changed her focus.
--
Just as Gravelshell had predicted, there was a small Earthclan patrol marking their side of the border. They each looked up and froze upon spotting the warriors from the rival clan.
The most noticeable of the group was a large, intimidating-looking gray tom. His muscles tensed upon seeing the Waterclan group, and he stared at them with fierce yellow eyes while a low growl rumbled in his throat. For a brief moment, it almost appeared like the scarred tom was going to attack, before a long tail swept in front of him with a silent order to wait.
The tail belonged to a slender, pitch-black tom with silver stripes, who narrowed his strikingly deep blue eyes at the patrol in suspicion. However, he didn't prepare for an attack like his companion but rather took a few slow, cautious steps forward before addressing them. "If you're going to mark your side of the border, just get it over with. We won't bother you if you don't bother us."
She paced until she felt her paws wearing rivets into the ground, and then she stopped, breathing hard. She usually wasn't this winded after just walking, but the kits must be draining her stamina. Her eyes closed as she leaned against the wall of the nursery, feeling a little unsteady. Her kits were growing restless and her head started to feel a little faint. Maybe she should go see someone... but who? They didn't even have a medicine cat yet...
-
The guardian's frown went almost unnoticed by the warrior. She was used to everyone else being serious, but she'd found there was nothing more valuable than a little bit of levity to keep their heads up. Maybe it was because she didn't share their fears, but she usually found there was no reason at all to be so serious about anything, and it was always better to keep a smile and your head on straight. She glanced over at Swangrace's touch, grateful, though she didn't need the support. At least, she didn't think she did. Still, it was nice to know her clanmate cared and was there to help deliver this news.
Celestialwarrior looked up as the trio approached the other clan, and offered them a sunny smile in return. "That's great, but we're here to bother you," she replied brightly, before Gravelshell could get a word in. The former leader may be at the front of their group, but in the end, they were only here so she could share her news. "We have important news to share with one of your warriors. It's most urgent, so you wouldn't delay us too long, will you? We don't mean to waste your time, but it would be helpful to have an escort so we don't wander your territory lost too long. The tom we're looking for is named Creekghost, maybe you know him... at least, I think he still goes by the name..."
-
Of all the cats to join the border patrol, the group was unlucky enough to have been stuck with Dorsalpaw. The undersized jet black tomcat squeezed between the two older cats to look out at the WaterClan warriors, then shook out his fur and bounded forward to stand closer to them. He was scruffy, but he looked friendly enough - not as intimidating as the two warriors he was supposed to be patrolling with, anyway.
"What do you want with him? He's always busy," he huffed. The mudlark apprentice wasn't even supposed to go on border patrols, but his mentor wasn't around, so he did what he wanted. This had paid off rather well for him, though he couldn't imagine why anyone would want to talk to Creekghost. He knew the Mudlark Commander from training sessions, and he thought he was pretty dry and boring. Never let him do anything fun.
None of them did, actually. Last time he had tried to have some fun, the other apprentices had tattled on him and he'd gotten in trouble for a half-moon. His claws flexed at the thought.
Stalkerjaw glanced over at the brash apprentice, silencing the younger tom with a quick, sharp glare. The older warrior relaxed slightly, however; this rival patrol didn't appear to be here for a fight...but he certainly wasn't going to let his guard down, in case this was a trap. His gaze met Rookback's for a brief moment; the patrol leader looking just as cautious and confused as he felt. Not one for words himself, and certainly not diplomacy, he instead took a seat on the grass beside Dorsalpaw, allowing for the conversation to continue.
If Rookback was bothered by Dorsalpaw's butting-in, he didn't show it. His gaze swept back and forth across the three she-cat's standing across the border, unsure of how to handle such an odd request. Although the possibility of a trap still lingered in the back of his mind, sending them away might do more harm than good, considering how awful Earthclan's relations were with their other neighbor right now. "Creekghost, huh?" He meowed in a casual tone to Celestialwarrior, assuming she was the head of Waterclan's patrol. "Yeah, we know 'em. But don't think we're going to let you in before you tell us what you want with him. For...safety reasons. You know the drill."
---
Gravelshell sighed in annoyance, rolling her eyes sightly as she stepped forward; standing tall in front of the Earthclan patrol with the regal and intimidating aura she had earned herself from her time as Waterclan's leader, the fiery tones of her pelt glowing in the sunlight. "Yes, we are aware," she responded in a chilled tone. "But trust us when she says that this is an urgent matter; Waterclan wouldn't bother with you if it wasn't. There is no one else able to give him this message, and leaving you bunch to tell him for us would be against common decency." She gestured to Celestialwarrior with her tail, her voice softening to sound more reserved. "This here is Creekghost's sister. She has recently received the news that their mother has gone to her final rest in Starclan. Please, I beg you to take us to him, to let them mourn together, as family should."
Swangrace listened to the Guardian talk with a lump of emotion in her throat, glancing up at the toms with pleading eyes. "I-I implore thou sirs to believe us," she added softly, in that strange yet comforting accent of hers. "We shan't take any prey, we swear'eth to Starclan."
Dorsalpaw backed off at the warrior's look with a roll of his eyes, but remained standing, his tail-tip twitching. Why was everyone making such a big deal of this? They were at the border, not trespassing, and if they wanted a fight they'd have attacked by now. There clearly wasn't danger to be had. Why were old cats so cautious and boring all the time? Besides, he almost wished there was going to be a fight. It would be fun. They were evenly matched numbers-wise, and he was confident he could hold his own, or fetch help if the older cats were lame and wouldn't let him join the battle.
--
"Sure, just tell them the exact news, it isn't like that's a private matter or anything," Celestialwarrior grumbled, though she didn't seem bothered that Gravelshell had spoke up. She just wanted to see her brother. Maybe she didn't seem affected by the news, but there was a weariness in her at the thought of all that happened and at the painful reunion she was headed toward. While she might not be afraid of what awaited her mother, she almost wasn't sure what was left for her: what did Blakely believe? Had the former medicine cat kept to StarClan all those moons, or had she adopted the deities of her leadership, or the tunnel cats' religion? The auburn warrior truly didn't know, just as she didn't know if at the end of her life her mother would be seen as a good cat or not.
But that didn't matter to her. Good, bad, it was a thin line they all walked. She just wanted to see her brother and get this over with.
"Come on, think about it. Would anyone really want to come all this way to talk to their brother if it wasn't important? Especially a brother like Creekghost?" she snorted, though her green eyes glimmered with affection.
Gravelshell took a step back, keeping close to Celestialwarrior as she turned and placed her tail on the young warrior's back. To the Earthclan patrol, it looked seemingly like an action of comfort, but there was a small smirk on the Guardian's face as she turned and whispered in a low voice in the younger she-cat's ear. "Sorry about that, dear. But it's one of the most basic of manipulation tactics; if a cat asks for reasons, give them more than they bargained for and they'll look like a fool. After that, you can play with them like a mouse. Watch." The tortoiseshell looked back to the group of Earthclan toms, keeping a surprisingly straight and stern face despite her desire to chuckle. "Well?" She asked them, her tone stern. "I'd hope your clan isn't as cold-hearted as we've heard of it being."
Swangrace, completely unaware of the conversation between her clanmates, simply looked over at the rival clan with big, sad, puppy-dog eyes. Luckily, that was more than enough.
---------------------------
Oh. Great. Well this was an awkward situation. Rookback mentally cursed himself for his own lack of tact; this wasn't a trap, merely a matter of mourning. Sighing in defeat, the black tom glanced over at Stalkerjaw, whose face had gone cold and emotionless. Unfortuniately, they both knew that feeling all too well. "Yeah, yeah, alright," he answered finally, gesturing to them with his tail. "We passed by Creekghost a little while ago, we'll take you to him. Stay close, and don't touch anything. Got it?" As much as he knew that someone was going to chew him out for this later, leaving them there just wasn't something he could do on a clear conscience. Turning to pad back into the woods, he looked over at the apprentice. "Dorsalpaw, you take up the rear. Make sure none of them wander off, and that no one is following us. Once this is over, you can have the rest of the day free."
"Don't worry, we don't want anything from your territory," she snorted as she started to follow them, with a nod to Gravelshell. Her plan had worked after all, though Celestialwarrior thoughrt hers would have been fine. They were just grumpy warriors trying to show off their strength, if they were patient enough they'd have gotten bored and given in. "But hey, don't say anything to him about why we're here, okay? That isn't your news to spoil." There was a threatening rumble in her throat as she glared up ahead at the patrol... but an instant later it was gone again, as she assumed they agreed and continued on merrily.
--
"After all, there are three of them, you might be dull to notice if one of them up and walks away," Dorsalpaw agreed dryly, but dropped back to the rear of the patrol. At least he'd get the day off; that was cool. He wasn't concerned in the least about the three cats they were escorting, so he gave them a comfortable amount of space, but did occasionally glance back for signs someone was stalking them. Dorsalpaw hadn't tasted anyone on the wind when they were at the border, and he wasn't sure why they would bring even more cats to share the news that some cat had died, but whatever; Rookbaakc could be as paranoid as he liked.
Gravelshell marched up front close to the Earthclan toms, following the pair closely while more or less ignoring the scenery around them. In her opinion the forest never really compared to the dazzling waters and vibrants plants of the marshland. As a former leader she took this assignment very seriously, but nonetheless similarly wanted to get it over with quickly; beginning to feel the uneasy twisting in her stomach she always felt while in another clan's territory. While a cat changing clans was an event that occurred quite often nowadays in nearly all the clans, the tortoiseshell knew that it was something she'd never be able to do herself. In a way, she'd been slightly jealous of how easily Creekghost had been able to cut ties with Waterclan and meld right into Earthclan for his love.
Meanwhile, Swangrace was aboslutely captivated by the variety of colors on the changing leaves above them. Her amber gaze darted around eagerly, taking it all in. Though at one point, the silver tabby got so caught up in sightseeing, that she wasn't looking where she was going and nearly tripped over a tree root, managing to keep her balance but bumping into Dorsalpaw instead. "O-Oh! Mine deepest apologies, young knave! Tis but a simple accident, I meant thee no harm."
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After a few minutes of walking to get to the river, and a few more of padding alongside it, Rookback was beginning to get frustrated. He was sure he had seen Creekghost somewhere around here on their way over to the border, he was sure of it! Where in Starclan's name was that mousebrain? The warrior hoped he hadn't dissapeared again like he usually did; he really didn't want to escort this group of Waterclan she-cats around for any longer than he had to. Gritting his teeth, he scanned the area, mumbling under his breath.
"Seriously, where is h-ow!" Rookback was shaken out of his thought by a sharp nudge in the ribs by Stalkerjaw, who then gestured to a lone figure sitting in the reeds just ahead of them. "Oh! Good find Stalkerjaw. H-Hey! Creekgho..st...?"
The two toms slowed as they approached him, before coming to a sudden stop out of shock. Creekghost looked like an absolute mess; his white fur dirty and ragged, with dark, prominent circles under his eyes. To Breezestep, who had been seeing the warrior every day, the change would've been slow and too gradual to fully notice. But neither Rookback or Stalkerjaw had seen him in days. Creekghost didn't seem to even be aware of the group standing right next to him, staring down at his reflection with blank, glossy and tear-filled eyes.
