Fight or Flight

Sunpaw had burns on his paws and his eyes stung. The group of cats he had managed to stay with had fled toward the top slope of Mapleclan's territory, hoping the incline would slow the burn until they could reach safety. But Sunpaw's muscles screamed in protest of the upward climb. They had finally reached a swampy area and his paws stung as he stepped through the muddy terrain. At least the fire could not follow them through here. He could not feel its heat on his heels anymore, but its orange glow in the darkness was visible in the sky behind him. 

Once they reached a dry patch of earth on the other side of the swamp, some of the cats began to slow, but his father Waspstrike strode on.

"We have to stop!"

Sunpaw turned to see who had called out. Petaltail stood over Fernkit, who was shaking from the cold as rain began to fall. She was four moons old, but she was still young and clearly frightened. Waspstrike's yellow eyes scanned them in the gloom and he said nothing. He seemed to be looking among the other travelers for a consensus. Larkclaw was here, and he carried his small son over to Petaltail. She was the only cat here who could help Warblerkit. She accepted the task openly, licking the kit to keep him dry. The dark tabby sat down beside her and his stance was clear.

Willowwing and Crowpelt hesitated. Crowpelt's long black tail lashed and he kept throwing glances at the fire's glow like it would creep up and surprise them at any moment. Willowwing looked unsure about challenging Waspstrike, having received her warrior name only a few moons ago, but soon walked over to Petaltail as well. Her pure white pelt made her look like warrior of Starclan, floating silently across the ground in the dim light. 

Waspstrike lashed his tail once and turned to sniff the bushes.

"This will do then," he said.

The others began to scrape up areas to rest and Waspstrike stood at the edge of the clearing to keep watch. Sunpaw padded over to the group, his paws stinging with every step. He wished Ripplinglake or Willowpaw were here to help him, but then his problem seemed insignificant when he considered they may not even be alive. He settled down next to Petaltail and licked his pads delicately, watching his father.  

Moonpaw was missing. His home was gone. He shook himself, trying not to let the despair overtake him. Moonpaw was smart. He was sure she was okay; she had to be. They had such a strong connection he was sure he would feel it in his heart if something was wrong. 

Larkclaw seemed agitated. He kept standing up, sitting back down, looking at Waspstrike, and checking on Warblerkit. Sunpaw listened as he whispered something to Crowpelt.

"Why does it seem that Waspstrike assumes he should be in charge of all of us?"

Crowpelt shrugged, seeming unbothered by it. "He is one of the most senior warriors here," he replied. 

"Yes, and so am I," Larkclaw retorted. "We were apprentices at the same time."

"And you think you should be in charge then?" Crowpelt snorted. "Our leader is barely walking on Starclan's grass."

Larkclaw bristled and Sunpaw tensed. That was clearly not what he had meant, and Sunpaw wasn't sure if Crowpelt was oblivious to it, or was just looking to start trouble. 

"No one should be solely in charge," Larkclaw growled, composing himself before he spoke. "We have no idea where the rest of the clan is and our only goal should be to find them, not to launch into a power struggle straight out of danger." 

Crowpelt grumbled but didn’t argue. His mate, Raincloud, was still unaccounted for. Larkclaw was right. Sunpaw knew his father was headstrong, but surely he wouldn’t give up so quickly? For all they knew, Mousewhisker was still out there ready to assume leadership. Sunpaw prayed to Starclan briefly to keep his missing clanmates safe and to guide them back together. 

Eventually, they all settled down to sleep. Sunpaw could feel it in the air that dawn was not far off and he knew they should get as much rest as they could before they could move on again.  

Drifting in and out of conciousness, he sneezed when something soft brushed against his nose. Opening his eyes slightly, he saw Fernkit bouncing about in front of him. Her creamy tail was poofed up in excitement. 

"Wake up Sunpaw!" she squeaked. "Time to go find our new home!"

Sunpaw batted her playfully with his paw and she squealed and ran around to jump on his side. She was half his size, but her small kitten claws felt sharp.

"Ouch, you little mousebrain!" He laughed. "Who told you that’s what we're doing?"

"I head the warriors talking about it," she mewed, flopping onto her stomach beside him. 

Sunpaw's whiskers twitched thoughtfully. He peered over at the group of cats. They seemed agitated, a few tails lashing back and forth. Suddenly, Waspstrike broke away from the circle and stomped away into a thin line of bushes at the edge of the clearing. Larkclaw met Sunpaw's eyes and motioned him over with his tail. 

"Go to your mother, Fernkit. I have to see what Larkclaw needs," Sunpaw instructed quietly. 

Fernkit sighed but did as he requested, prancing off to meet Petaltail as she walked away from the meeting. The pretty ginger she-cat gave her daughter a lick and led her over to the small pile of fresh kill that had accrued at the tree-line. 

"Sunpaw," Larkclaw mewed in greeting. "We are taking a patrol back to the forest to observe the wreckage and see if we can find anyone that has survived. We would like you to come along, if you're fit." 

A chill ran through Sunpaw. The thought of seeing his home devastated and the possibility of finding his sister dead shook him, but he pushed it away. "Of course, Larkclaw, I'm fit."

Larkclaw nodded in approval. "Get something to eat and then we will be off."

Sunpaw chose a mouse off the pile and ate it quickly. He noticed Willowwing slipping into the grasses, most likely looking for more food. Petaltail laid in a nest of ferns with Warblerkit tucked against her and Fernkit chasing grasshoppers a few tail-lengths away. It was almost too peaceful here. 

He glanced at where his father sat in the bushes, somewhat aggressively grooming his golden shoulders. He wondered what had made him so angry. Maybe it was that Larkclaw seemed to be taking control now. He shrugged it off, having bigger things to worry about than Waspstrike's temper. 

Giving his face a quick cleaning, he trotted over to where Larkclaw waited by the trees. 

"What do you think we'll find?" Sunpaw asked him cautiously, the nervousness knawing at his nearly empty insides.

"The best thing we can find is that we may return to our home and our clanmates are alive and waiting for us. That is all I can hope for." Larkclaw's words were flat. He knew they were most likely wrong and Sunpaw's heart sank. 

A few moments later, Crowpelt joined them and they set off into the forest in the direction they had come. It would take them half the day to get there at a fast pace. They stopped when the sun was at its high point and hunted, trying to keep their dwindling energy reserves high. 

The greenery as they travelled was full and healthy, but the sky was a clayish gray color. Almost at once, things began to change. The gray darkened and the birdsong halted abruptly. The harsh smell of burning things hit Sunpaw like he had run into a tree. Larkclaw and Crowpelt slowed, their steps more fearful. It was almost as if they were afraid the fire would jump out at them. 

The tree line thinned and then suddenly, they were standing at the edge of the fire's reaches. Everything before them was black. A few tree trunks still stood, but many had toppled down. He could hardly make out where in the territory they were. They took a few heartbeats to compose themselves, and then started down the slope wordlessly. 

"We should go to where we were split off from the group," Larkclaw spoke up, his voice loud in the unnatural silence. 

Crowpelt nodded his agreement, but seemed unsure of where that was. Eventually they found a few stone landmarks and made their way back to the general area. The large fallen tree that had separated them was charred and looming. Sunpaw sniffed around, but every scent that may have been there was obscured. 

Sunpaw jumped as Crowpelt cried out and he spun toward him. The black tom was standing near the base of the trunk. Coming closer, Sunpaw saw the shape of a cat, unmoving and pinned beneath the massive surface. He could hardly make out who it was at first, but Crowpelt said it for him.

 "It's Redclaw. He must've been crushed when it fell between us."

Larkclaw placed his paws on the trunk and heaved half-heartedly, but he knew it was no use. They crouched silently around the fallen warrior and paid their respects, his auburn fur singed and blackened. Sunpaw hoped helplessly that the tree had killed Redclaw, and that he hadn't been trapped until the fire smothered him. How would they tell Petaltail and Fernkit? The queen had watched them go optimistically. He hated to take that hope from her.  

Begrudgingly, they moved on. They tried to get back to where they had left Whitestar, but the earth was still smoldering deeper in and many trees had fallen here. Sunpaw was almost relieved. He did not want to see the scene that awaited them there. He knew it would haunt him, regardless. 

They found two more bodies, covered with blankets of ash. The lithe shape of the medicine-cat's apprentice, Willowpaw, lay still. A few tail-lengths from him was Raincloud. Crowpelt sank to the ground beside her. His fur quivered with despair. Sunpaw prayed to Starclan that his two sons, who were nowhere to be seen here, were safe somewhere. They allowed Crowpelt to grieve his mate, offering him support with their presence. 

"I want to bury her," he said shakily, his words muffled by her fur. 

Larkclaw and Sunpaw moved a little ways away and dug two graves. They helped the black warrior lift Raincloud and carry her, and then they brought Willowpaw as well. They paid their respects, and carried on again, immensely sad and discouraged. 

"Don't worry Crowpelt," Larkclaw was saying up ahead. "I just know Mousekit and Needlekit are alright somewhere. There are many faces here that are not accounted for." 

Crowpelt didn't respond, his long tail dragging in the ash. While Larkclaw may have been right, how many had they lost? At least three bodies they could find, and four more where they had left their fallen leader. How many more had succumbed to the smoke outside the bounds of the fire?

They tried, but could not reach the camp either and turned outward again toward the open fields that bordered the territory. Crossing the stream with his plumy tail held above the water, Sunpaw came to a halt still elbow deep. He opened his mouth and it hit him with a surge of adrenaline. 

"I smell Mapleclan," he said, almost yelling. 

Larkclaw and Crowpelt stopped behind him and sniffed the air too. Sunpaw splashed the rest of the way out of the stream and put his nose to the dirt. Littlepaw, right on the edge. He had made it across. He went further. Nightwish, and the smell of kits. Maybe she had made it out with Ravenkit and Finchkit. Larkclaw clearly smelled this too, his hackles rising with excitement. 

Farther from the stream near the reeds he found more; Hawkfang, and his heart nearly stopping, his sister. Moonpaw had made it this far. She was okay, she had to be! 

"Maybe we can find their trail!" he mewed excitedly, his whiskers quivering. "They had to have stayed together!"

Larkclaw was still silently sniffing around where Nightwish's scent was strongest. Crowpelt watched him uncertainly. 

"Something isn't right," he was mumbling. "Something isn’t right."

He paced forward toward the reeds and then halted. His ears went flat. Sitting down, he put his nose to the earth. Sunpaw peered over his shoulder. There was a very small mound of dirt, much like the size of a small kit. Sunpaw knew exactly what this meant and he felt a surge of sympathy for Larkclaw. They stayed back respectfully as their clanmate grieved on his own for his lost child. 

After a while, Crowpelt approached slowly. "Larkclaw, there's only one grave."

Larkclaw looked up at him blankly. "It must be Ravenkit. My brother carried Finchkit away, and I do not smell him here."

"I'm sorry, Larkclaw," Sunpaw said quietly.

The older cat flicked his ears to show he had heard. He stood again and began to follow his mate's scent trail. Sunpaw did the same with his sister's from where it was strongest. They mingled together for a short time, and then Larkclaw and Sunpaw started to branch off in separate directions. Sunpaw picked his head up, confused. Littlepaw and Hawkfang's scents were all here, but Nightwish had gone a different way. Why did she separate from the others?  

Larkclaw was equally confused. He kept returning to Ravenkit's grave and starting again, as if he thought he had made a wrong move before. They followed them until they were swallowed up by marshy ground. The two cats met again in the sandy clearing by the waterside. Crowpelt had hunted for them while they searched and they all shared the rabbit he caught in frustrated quietness. 

"What do we do now?" Sunpaw asked. 

"I suppose we go back, before the sun sinks too far," Crowpelt replied, his voice empty of any real effort. "And tell them what we have found." 

The sun had already descended half way through the sky. It would be dark again before they made it back, but none of them expressed any desire to stay in this death-ridden place any longer. They started off again, their steps much less determined. 

Sunpaw's thoughts drifted to Moonpaw and he hoped as hard as he could that she was somewhere safe; that he would find her soon.