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Leaf-fall, Year 7, day 21

Passionpaw

“Look! You can see my breath when I breathe!” Exclaimed Passionpaw as she ran in front of the two older cats she had been assigned to follow on patrol. She reared into the air and let out little quick breaths to create little puffs of mist to join the fog that hugged the land. It made seeing difficult and both the adults were being more cautious than normal, which meant more boring. She’d hope to lessen the tension that the wall of fog had created on their outing.

Both adults looked at each other, exchanging what Passionpaw knew to be one of those silent adult conversations they somehow had, as if they could read each other’s mind. The black frame of Vipertooth slunk passed her and she knew she was about to get an ear full from Flickerleaf – like she hadn’t been told to be quiet already ten times on their only-an-hour-in journey. It had felt like ten hours the way both Flickerleaf and Vipertooth were flinching at every sound.

Passionpaw was still breathing out little puffs of air toward Flickerleaf, her body shifting it’s weight with uncontrollable energy. They were moving way too slow in her opinion. Flickerleaf gave Passionpaw a kind smile and motioned for them to follow Vipertooth. With a low voice, she began another lecture about being quiet, this time it was about listening. “Just because the cover of fog will mute some of our sounds, doesn’t mean there aren’t others being covered by the same fog – listening for us. Being quiet is not a passive pastime.” Passionpaw was looking at the wall of larger boulders that they were passing, feeling like she already understood the concept of ‘be quiet’ no matter how many times it had to be explained to her. Her mind started to imagine how much more fun it would be to travel on top of the rocks, especially that much closer to the fog that clung so close to the ground.

“Especially with the fog muting sounds, it’s even more important to listen to any small clues that we get, especially in the open as we are. It’s important to watch for places to hide, if need be. There are a lot of things that can occupy your mind…” And whatever she continued saying after that, something about there being less light too with the sun hidden, Passionpaw tuned out – not on purpose, but she also didn’t stop her mind from wandering as they went. Couldn’t they play a game of hiding or something while they went? Her pale eyes trailed up to the rocks once more and the moment there was a way to hop up them, she darted off, hearing Flickerleaf hissing after her to come back – and for Vipertooth to come back.

“No, keep going – I’ll follow from up here!” She called, giggling as she leapt rock to rock. “I should be practicing my leaping too, right?”

Vipertooth had fallen back to walk with Flickerleaf who had stopped scolding, her tail lashing with irritation. Both adults were slightly distracted from their surroundings, not that they could have seen the hawks swooping lower than usual to see their prey in the thick fog they had walked into – but the movement above Passionpaw caused both to gasp and hiss.

Passionpaw was ignoring the adults for the most part, making sure her form was perfect as her lithe form leapt rock to rock. She enjoyed especially when one was a little higher or lower, giving the adventure a little more interest than the boring ground below. She landed softly on the last jump before a movement ahead instinctively made her duck, barely escaping the ghostly claws that grabbed right above her neck.

“Hawk!” She heard one of the adults cry and Passionpaw was suddenly sliding down to jump off the stone ledge that was four to five times her height. The flapping wings of the hawk had created a flurry in the fog and she felt its claws brush her back once more as she fell toward Vipertooth. Where was Flickerleaf? The same hawk had landed momentarily on the stone ledge, flapping its wings and let out a call of frustration. In the next moment it was falling toward the two cats, trying to reach its talons toward the smaller Passionpaw – the easy prey to lift off.

All the while Passionpaw was in a panic, frozen with fear as she watched the talons swoop toward her. What if… the hawk got her? What if she was taken up and up – and that was her end? Well, at least she’d know for a moment what it was like to fly. That wouldn’t be too bad. She’d almost accepted this fate, when Vipertooth’s fangs entered the scene, his black body moving between her and the hawk and teeth coming down on the bird’s foot closest to him. It woke her up from her frozen state and used an unsheathed claw to bat at the bird as it cried from the bite, but did not retreat totally. It kept coming at them – it’s yellow eye kept moving beyond Vipertooth to Passionpaw, every time giving Passionpaw a reason to shudder or her stomach to roil.

Then as if the attack wasn’t surreal enough, there was a screech of a different hawk from above. Passionpaw’s pale mint gaze flicked to the foggy sky just above the rocky ledge where she had been just moments – or had it been minutes? – before. Flickerleaf had found a way up the ledge, at first to help defend Passionpaw from the initial hawk attack – but then had continued to climb so that she could attack from above. The moment she had jumped off to attack the bird’s back, aiming for it’s neck – another larger hawk had swooped down and caught the small cat in its talons. It lowered closer to them from the sudden weight, but after numerous beating of its strong wings lifted into the air with Flickerleaf in tow. Passionpaw wanted to call after Flickerleaf, encourage her escape, but her throat felt dry – and a spatter of liquid drew her attention back down to Vipertooth who was still engaged with the first hawk.

“She’s… she’s…” Her whole body shuddered, stepping back a few paces and then turned to run. The calico was slammed to the ground and at first she thought it was the hawk who had gotten her – but it was Vipertooth’s body coming between her and the hawk who had decided to follow the easier prey, but the black tom wouldn’t have it. She was useless, wasn’t she? Bound to die, or get someone else killed defending her. She needed to fight. But by the time she had made up this resolve and tried pushing Vipertooth off of her, there was a final angry call of the hawk and then the steady retreating sound of its wings.

The weight on top of her lifted and she turned to face the sad eyes of the tom. His black body was torn up, wet – actually she felt wet too, she looked down at her short haired coat that was covered it irregular patches of blood. Was it her own? She didn’t feel pain? Perhaps it was because of the adrenalin that was coursing through her. “She’s…” She gasped again, standing up and feeling like she was going to lose her breakfast. “She’s gone…”

Vipertooth staggered a little as he got up, favoring a leg and looking terrible. He didn’t nod or really acknowledge what Passionpaw had said. “We need to return and reporth.” He said in a thicker accented lisp than usual. He cleared his throat and they continued slowly back to the inevitable report.

Her mind certainly had enough things to keep her occupied on the way back. The sadistic distracted part of her thought of how she could retell the story to get the best reactions - but this kept getting pushed away… because there was no hero - or at least, she hadn’t been the hero in the story. Her eyes flicked to the limping form of Vipertooth. He had been the hero here. What had she done, but probably attract the stupid birds and almost get Vipertooth killed? And Flickerleaf… Her throat closed up for a moment at the thought of her mentor. It was too surreal still, that she was gone- body and all. Nothing to mourn… just gone. Now it was too quiet.