The amazing rescue; starring Willowpaw and Rain

[Whiskers]

When she was younger, Willowpaw had possessed a 'mischievous' streak, or so she had been told by her mother, even her father. She had never agreed. She wasn't mischievous, she just liked to play tricks and tease cats. But now, as she romped around Pineclan territory in search of prey, she believed her parents the slightest bit. Because she knew she was not supposed to be out here. She was aware of the rules, how, as a very young apprentice (hardly more than seven moons now), she was not allowed out of camp unless she was accompanied by a warrior.

But she was deliberately disobeying that certain rule. Why? Wellll, it was complicated. She had heard her mother talking about how proud she was of Crowpaw, and all of a sudden, out of the blue, this urge to hunt and bring back some big piece of prey hit her. Really, it wasn't her fault, it was like a disease. She simply couldn't ignore it. It was almost like she had lost free will entirely.

At least, that was what she was going to tell dear ol' Gingerstar if she got caught.

So that was why she was out, avoiding the other patrols by maneuvering toward the further border, the one facing unclaimed land. Gingerstar had sent two patrols to this area in the morning (which was really stupid, because the patrols should be concentrating on where the other clans could actually attack), so they would not be out here at the moment. See. She was using her head. She was practically a warrior already!

"Okay micey, micey, micey...come out, come out wherever you are..." Willowpaw breathed almost seductively, her eyes glowing with excitement as she caught that fresh scent of prey. It was like nothing she had ever smelled before-- kind of like mice, but...but... weirder. Maybe it would be a new type of extra juicy mouse! Anticipation seized her legs and she broke out into a run, much too impatient to wait any longer!

By the time she realized what the scent was, it was too late. The rats descended on her in a wave of beady eyes and yellow teeth. They were just as big as the little gray she-cat and Willowpaw knew she would not be able to win. She lashed out with inexperienced claws, she hissed and spat with fear behind each breath. And when she felt the shocking pain of the first bite, she screamed.

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[glowlynose]

Ah, night. It was the perfect time for an ambush. Nobody would be able to see him as he slipped silently in and out of the towering pine trees that housed a mysterious cult of cats known as PineClan. It gave Rain the utmost satisfaction to know that under the cover of darkness and with his scent obscured as it was by mud and some pungent herbs, not even the illustrious leader of PineClan would be able to detect him as he crept about within their territory. Oh, yes, his plan was nearly foolproof! He'd spent the past few days visiting the borders of the other clans, as Gingerstar had advised, and had found them to be no more welcoming than the PineClan border had been. It had not mattered to him, though. The whole time, he had been plotting his invasion of PineClan territory to rescue his family, and he'd spent days poring over every little detail in his mind. These were, after all, experienced warriors that he'd be dealing with. He absentmindedly licked a scratch that had come from the claws of a warrior from... StreamClan, he'd said? Yes, that made sense, for he'd smelled of fish and running water.

Unfortunately for Rain, it was not yet nighttime over the territories of the clans. The sun had nearly dropped behind the distant mountains and hills. An ethereal grey now kissed everything in the landscape. The only color left was a few streaks of stubborn orange, red, and purple over the horizon. Rain's eyes flashed impatiently as he gazed out from his hiding spot in a thicket of heather. Couldn't the sun hurry up? He was about to be reunited with his love after more than a year's search! Surely true love was a noble enough cause to manipulate the sands of time?

A chilling shriek pierced the twilit silence, and Rain jumped. The birds that had been nesting in the pine trees all fled their perches with a singular, startled cry. More cries were coming now, cries issuing from within the thick cover of pine trees. His nostrils flared in anger. Had they discovered his plan and brought out his family to lure him in by any means possible? Were they now, as he lay obscured in the thicket, torturing his family? If they were, they'd have blood to pay in! With a snarl, he leaped from his hiding spot and shot like a bullet toward the place the screams were coming from.

His face fell when he saw what the trouble was. It was just a pack of stupid rats, probably feasting on some poor prey animal that they'd trapped. But wait! Was that a flash of claws, a tip of a silvery gray tail? Was that his beloved daughter Willow? Oh, those rats would have to answer to him!

A low, protective growl warned the rats only seconds before Rain flung himself into their midst. He was upon them, claws slashing wildly, teeth snapping randomly, but somehow managing to find their marks most of the time. Though the rats threatened to overwhelm him and were clambering up his body with increasingly frantic efforts to bite him on the shoulders, neck, and trunk, the desire to protect his daughter fired his attacks. It was not until the last rat had retreated, ugly naked tail missing half of its length, that Rain finally allowed himself to look at the little cat he had just saved.

A mournful wail that would chill the bones even of Sorrow itself issued forth from the depths of Rain's soul. The she-cat was not dead, oh no, she was quite alive and looking quite healthy, but she was not... she was not his daughter. The two shared pelt color, but... no. No, this PineClanner was not his daughter. He sank down to the ground with a rattling sigh. The effects of his many rat bites were starting to kick in, but he didn't want to fight them. Let the poison burn his veins and melt away his flesh if need be, but he did not want to survive any longer. There was simply nothing worth fighting for anymore. His last hope of finding his family had been extinguished. Maddeningly enough, the darkness would not come. Something inside of him was fighting to keep him conscious despite his wishes. Was this to be his fate? To go mad? Ha, he was halfway there already. Fate should not find it particularly difficult to crack him.

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[Whiskers]

The rats were everywhere. The ground beneath her feet, the dying light of the day, all was obscured by the brown, mangy fur of the rats. Soon, she began to give up her useless attacks and she concentrated on escaping, somehow, through some method. But the rats were everywhere, and so there was no where for Willow to escape to.

But she was not alone. The cat appeared from behind and he soared in front of her, jaws snapping, snarling, tail lashing. The rats were instantly pulled away from the pathetic piece of meat that was Willowpaw; now they had a massive meal to gnaw at instead, though their 'feast' was putting up a fair fight. Willowpaw could do little more than watch in awe as the tom fended off the rats, kicking them away and breaking their necks like twigs.

And then, the wave of rats receded, just as quickly as they came and the stranger, the loner, her hero looked at her with eyes full of sorrow. He let out a groan, a mournful howl, and sank to the ground. Willowpaw stood, confused, cemented in place by fear and shock and...and she couldn't think. She just stared at the stranger, her mind reeling. He had saved her life. He had saved her life and he did not know her. And he was bleeding. Blood. Bleeding. Red blood. And the sight of it sickened her stomach.

"Oh no," she whispered and then collapsed onto her belly and crawled toward the cat. "Oh my gosh, you're hurt badly. Oh, oh, oh gosh I don't know what to do," she murmured. Willowpaw pressed her nose briefly against his fur, like that would do anything. And it didn't, just as she suspected. She whimpered. "Hello? Can you hear me? Are you...are you dead? Is this what a dead cat looks like? I don't know!"

She got up right away, shaking. "Don't die...if you're not dead already, I mean! I...I... I'll be back okay? I'll help you, just...stay here!"

Willowpaw scrambled away from the body of her savior, her feet as clumsy as her thoughts. But, despite how freaked out she was, she was going to save this cat. After all...he had saved her.

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[glowlynose]

Rain's ears swiveled. Now he was hearing voices. Fantastic. Here he was, taking the first steps towards insanity without even moving. As his vision came back into focus, he realized that he wasn't just hearing the voices. The little she-cat was talking to him. Well, at least she was alright.

"No, darlin', unfortunately I'm far from dead," he said, though it seemed that each word was punctuated by a sharp cough. The effects of his wounds were starting to get to him now. His head swam. Despite this, he managed a sarcastic chuckle, accompanied by his now perfected sardonic smirk. He was quite proud of it, actually, his smirk.

"And don't you worry, I ain't goin' nowhere. Not like this." Rain grimaced as a spasm of pain gripped his body, leaving him gasping for breath. He could imagine what Analucia would do if she was here, if she saw him like this. She wouldn't be frightened by it. No, she would stay strong for him. She'd always been good at that. But this little she-cat, barely more than a kit by the looks of it, was stuttering and tripping over herself in the most ungainly way. Had there been any doubt in his mind before about if she was his daughter, that would have dispelled it. Willow had always been stronger than that. When she'd gotten scratched as a child, she'd laughed. He might have expected behavior like this from Clementine, as she'd always been a bit delicate, but then, Clementine had been a dark brown tabby. This cat might looks like his child, but she was definitely not his.

Now she looked like she was turning around to leave. He couldn't let her do that, not yet. "Wait!" he cried desperately. Oh, how he wished that he could just get up and follow her. Unfortunately, he was losing too much blood to be able to do that safely. Already he was feeling lightheaded, and all he'd done was think about moving! "What's your name?" A sob caught in his voice, but he could pass that off as a reaction to the pain of his wounds. Exposed to the increasingly cold air, they were burning. He laughed softly at the irony, not pausing to think that perhaps it might not be the best idea to laugh in this situation.

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[Whiskers]

ooc// THE PATROL IS COMING FROM THIS THREAD Kay. So the order will be established by whoever posts next, be in cloud or slug. And after Slug posts, Glowy can have the option of posting or not-- 'cuz idk, she might wanna have Rain get knocked out by his pain or something. :P So yeah. Let the ...thread begin!

bic//

Sniff sniff...

Shrikewhisker's whole frame was bent toward the ground. He was in an awkward looking crouch, with his nose hovering over the forest floor, his whiskers twitching, and his tail waving in the air as if it were a flower, dancing with the gentle twilight wind. He was very concentrated on the scent-- the scent of unfamiliar cat, that is. He was having a little trouble keeping track of it because of the wind and its increasing power. As it got darker, the breeze grew and chilled him. Despite new-leaf technically being here, the nights still felt like leaf-fall.

"Just keep heading this direction," Shrikewhisker told his companions, though he was sure they knew where they were going. Still, he felt sort of obligated to track this cat down properly. This was one of those rare moments where Shrikewhisker was not fooling around-- at least, not yet. It was probably because he saw the distraught look upon the beautiful face of his niece. Ah, such a poor soul! One so young did not deserve the trauma of a rat attack.

There it was! Shrikewhisker's head jerked up as the smell of blood washed into his face, carried by that darn night breeze. It was strong and putrid. He got that sucker now! With a grin, Shrikewhisker broke into an easy trot, though he was careful not to get in front of Loonstep, the 'leader.' Pfft. Shrikewhisker could have been leader. It wasn't that hard.

"Soooooo, wonderful night for a rat attack, eh? Wait, that sounded really bad," Shrikewhisker blinked a few times. "I mean that if there was going to be a rat attack, I'd want it to be on tonight. Because of the weather. I don't want a rat attack, who wants a rat attack? They're nasty little buggers aren't they? Weird how their mousey friends are so cute-- and delightfully tasty-- while they're so...so..."

Evil? Uh, terrible? Ugly? Gross? Horrid? Disgusting? Dirty? Nasty? Smelly? Stupid?

Shrikewhisker couldn't find one word that really described them. Noticing the long drawn out absence that had settled since he stopped rambling, the tom felt hte pressure to complete his sentence and he blurted out, "Yucky. Yeah...uhm. Yucky."

Yucky. Okay, that worked, whatever. He sent a tentative grin at his patrolmates. Maybe they would laugh? "Annnnnnyway... so how crazy is it that Gingerstar is sending us to save a loner? Pretty crazy, right?

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[Slug]

Bluefur slinked after his two clanmates, taking up the rear of their patrol, alert for any signs of leftover rats that were possibly scampering throughout the foliage. True, he doubt there would be any left if they had been slaughtered-- from what he could tell from the faint scent of vermin blood, anyway-- but it was always best to be cautious, no matter how little the situation.

"Just keep heading this direction,"

He lifted his head, eyes narrowing at the back of Shrikewhisker's head. "I thought for sure Gingerstar had appointed Loonstep as the patrol leader, Shrikewhisker." He drawled, trotting after the other tom. "Unless, of course, you want to change that." He rumbled dangerously as he matched Shrikewhisker's pace, annoyance heating his tone.

"Soooooo, wonderful night for a rat attack, eh? Wait, that sounded really bad,"

Bluefur opened his maw to make a snotty remark, but the other PineClanner spoke again, his words practically tap-dancing on the line of babble. "I mean that if there was going to be a rat attack, I'd want it to be on tonight. Because of the weather. I don't want a rat attack, who wants a rat attack? They're nasty little buggers aren't they? Weird how their mousey friends are so cute-- and delightfully tasty-- while they're so...so..."

Brow twitching, Bluefur started: "Shut u--"

"Yucky. Yeah...uhm. Yucky."

Ears swiveling back, Bluefur hissed through his teeth at Shrikewhisker, soft, yet very, very irritated. "You talk too much." He finally spat, lips curling back to show his yellowed fangs. Oh, how he wished he could silence the gray and white PineClanner-- permanently. Of course, that would end up with him being kicked out of PineClan, or worse.

And then he'd never get to see Crowpaw again, which was a no-no.

"Annnnnnyway... so how crazy is it that Gingerstar is sending us to save a loner? Pretty crazy, right?"

"...Crazy enough to drive me up a tree."

[glowlynose]

Rain couldn't tell where the little she-cat was, if she was even still around. For all he knew, she might not have heard his last question and gone back to the safety of her camp. He spat crossly. He should have never come to her rescue. She might have been able to fend for herself just fine. Anyway, what did it matter to him? It wasn't like he cared about her or anything... right? He didn't even know her name. New voices, all belonging to toms by the sound of them, broke into his reverie that had previously only been interrupted by spasms of pain from his wounds, though he was starting to notice them less and less.

Rain narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Had Gingerstar sent a patrol of warriors out here to dispatch him while he was down? Remembering the look in her eyes the last time she'd looked at him, he wouldn't put it past her. She would do anything to protect these silly little borders of hers, and he'd crossed one, even after being warned not to do so. She wouldn't care that he'd saved the life of one of her own. Heck, he might have even just saved the life of her child. He didn't know, but he doubted that she'd be any easier on him even if the little one had been hers instead of another clanner's. Anyhow, if these toms' purpose was to get rid of him, he'd welcome it. In fact, he could even make their job easier.

"I don't want a rat attack, who wants a rat attack? They're nasty little buggers aren't they? Weird how their mousey friends are so cute-- and delightfully tasty-- while they're so...so... Yucky. Yeah... um. Yucky."

Rain had to suppress a laugh at the stranger's choice of words. Yes, rats were, in fact, quite yucky, though it wasn't exactly the word that he would've used. "Well now, ain't we just a regular old bag of words, Compadre? Though, if I was left with mah choice of words, I'd say that rats were odious, obnoxious, and-- Daggummit!" he spat as a particularly violent bite of pain seized his shoulder. Whoever these cats were should be able to find him fairly easily now.

" 'M ovah heah, incase y'all hadn't figured that out by yourselves yet. By the way, the name's Rain." He stuck his tail up as a beacon, hoping that it was long enough to be seen over the tops of the bushes, gritting his teeth against the pain. He could feel a few good bites on his tail now, though they didn't seem to be bleeding too horribly. If anything, they were nothing like the bites on his midsection. Oh well, he was a big cat and had a lot of blood to lose, he decided with a flick of his whiskers.

"Well, this should be fun!" he mumbled to himself. Now that he could concentrate on ways to amuse himself with Gingerstar's mercenaries, the pain was less noticable, bordering on tolerable, in fact. His mouth twisted into a crude mockery of his wonderful smirk- he couldn't achieve the full effects, you see, because of the fact that he was also grimacing.

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[Cloud of Diamonds]

Loonstep hadn't spoken for the whole trip. He was quiet, not even thinking much, just wanting to get there as quickly as possible. Shrikewhisker, of course, was staying true to form by being annoying, as usual. He'd barely been able to stay ahead of the smaller tom, who had babbling a mile a minute. Predictable.

It'd reminded him, again, of how different, how separate he was from these cats. They were his Clanmates, and even the ForestClanners whom he'd known (somewhat) were still strangers. No, while his three friends still lived, he doubted he'd ever be able to make a new friend. And even if they died...well, he would mourn for so long he'd probably be dead by the time he ever plucked up the courage to make a new friend...

Loonstep blinked as he realized this must be the place.

He knew by the oddly accented voice he heard coming from the bushes. Following its sound, he quickly found the cat who must have been Willowpaw's rescuer. He was in a sorry state. The warrior's heart panged as he looked at the bloody gray tabby who seemed to be, for some incomprehensible reason, trying to smile.

Yellow eyes sympathetic, he sat next to the warrior and hoped he wouldn't be perceived as a threat. He spoke softly.

"Okay, Rain, we're going to help you. Me, Shrikewhisker - that's the little gray and white guy - and Bluefur - the huge, well, blue one - are going to get you back to camp so you don't die. Just don't struggle and we'll carry you as best we can." He paused, then shouted "Guys! He's here! Help me carry him, though it's gonna take all three of us, he's almost as big as you, Bluefur. No offense or anything." He chuckled nervously. You never knew what might set the big cat off. Loonstep just did his best to be quiet and respectful around him. And fearful.

[Whiskers]

Shrikewhisker ducked his head at Bluefur's comment. It burned, it really did. It went straight through his body and scorched him through the heart, sizzled his whiskers, singed the fine ends of his gray pelt. He told himself it was nothing...that Bluefur was unpleasant to everyone, except for young Crowpaw. He told himself that he should not care about that dumb ol' bag of unfriendliness anyway. He told himself this. But he didn't believe it. He just kept replaying those few words in this head: You talk too much.

It was true. His apprentice, Harepaw, had told him that a long time ago. But he had not minded then. And some cats found it endearing. But now it just seemed like this really...stupid part of him, a part Shrikewhisker wanted to remove. Remove his whole muzzle from his body, that would solve the problem! Then he wouldn't be seen as...as whatever Bluefur saw him. Childish? Annoying? Grating?

Shrikewhisker was not allowed to mope too long, for they came upon the tom only a few minutes later. Shrikewhisker let out a tiny gasp at the sight of the poor chap. He was really big. And it wasn't fat or just fur that was on those bones, no. He was a beast, for lack of better words, yet a sorry looking one, since he was covered with blood and smelled terrible. No fault of his own though.

Well now, ain't we just a regular old bag of words, Compadre?

He spoke! And those words commented, again, on Shrikewhisker's busy mouth. But...the way he said it just lit up Shrikewhisker's whole soul. Compadre! What an interesting word! What a foreign, delicious, wonderful word! What did it mean? Was it an insult? It didn't sound like an insult, it sounded like a compliment, like it was filled with laughter. Shrikewhisker smiled down at the tom. Poor guy, a tom like him did not deserve the pain that was filling up his monster body.

But ah, Shrikewhisker would help him! Yes sirree he would!

"Rats really did do a number on you. But thanks, sir. You saved my niece, Willowpaw. For that I've got to thank you about...a thousand times-- no, no a million times! We'll get you back to camp. We've got a great medical team, so they'll make you feel like sunshine in no time--" Shrikewhisker cut himself off and felt his eyes look at Bluefur. He blurted out a tiny, kit-like, "Sorry" before he could even stop himself.

He got on one side of the tom and waited for Bluefur to situate himself on the other. They would have to work together if they wanted to get the loner back. Hopefully Bluefur wouldn't kill Shrikewhisker first.

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[Slug]

"Guys! He's here! Help me carry him, though it's gonna take all three of us, he's almost as big as you, Bluefur. No offense or anything."

Bluefur took pride in his size. He really did, because he probably was the largest cat in all the four territories. He was sure of it. However, he had time to dwell on these thoughts later-- right now he had a job to do. Pushing his way through the foliage, he caught a few words of Shrikewhisker's babble, before he heard a meek Sorry.

He sneered at the tom. "Grow a spine, Shrikewhisker." He spat, irritated. "Yes, I told you that you talked too much--" He glared at the PineClanner as he emphasized this. "But I never said that you had to stop." Suddenly the annoyance left his face as and -- he dare say it-- playful amusement crossed his features, a lazy smirk curling his lips.

"In other words, please, do continue." There was no sarcasm-- no mocking undertones. Nothing. Just... a simple request.

With that said, Bluefur turned his gaze to the gray tabby, his yellow eyes gleaming with fox-like curiosity. "Those rats sure ripped you a new one, didn't they?" He bared his fangs in a fierce grin as he asked that, then padded-- with a bounce in his step-- to the tom's other side.

"Ready when you are, Rat Snack."