#eelbelly

“Are we going to die in here?”

The question took Mottlefoot by surprise, and he turned to look at Eelbelly, who had taken residence on the floor of the cave. “What do you mean? Of course we won’t die in here,” he replied succinctly, maintaining eye contact with the Riverclan deputy. The tomcat didn’t seem satisfied by his answer, however, and Mottlefoot couldn’t help but frown. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, moving to sit next to Eelbelly. The Riverclan cat was usually the most chipper of their group and, the more he dwelled on it, Mottlefoot couldn’t recall ever seeing Eelbelly like this before. Sure, he had seen him disheartened or momentarily upset – but something about this was different. It seemed to run deeper.

Eelbelly broke eye contact to stare at the floor of the cave, absently pushing the dirt around with one of his paws. “It’s been a moon and a half, Mottlefoot,” he said softly. “Where are we meant to be going? What are we meant to be doing?” he asked, dragging his eyes back to meet Mottlefoot’s. “I understand that prophecies aren’t meant to be dead giveaways, but to take all four deputies and whisk them away in the middle of leafbare?” Eelbelly paused. Mottlefoot titled his head in concern.

“It’s been difficult,” he admitted, “but we were chosen for a reason. Starclan wouldn’t lead us astray,” he tried. Eelbelly’s eyes flashed, and the Riverclan tom seemed suddenly, uncharacteristically, angry.

“Then what are we doing here?” he snapped, “we’re lost, we don’t know where Wasptalon or Sootface are,” he continued, tail lashing. “Can Starclan even see us?” he demanded, eyes travelling along the dark walls of the cave they had squeezed themselves into for the night.

“Of course they can,” Mottlefoot replied, rising to his paws and moving to climb onto the large boulder that Eelbelly had been leaning against. Raising his head, he looked up and out of the small hole in the ceiling of the cave. The stars seemed to twinkle brighter, dancing in the sky above and there, in the cave, alongside them.

Eelbelly looked skeptical, but Mottlefoot could see his features softening as he gazed around at the light dancing off of the caves walls. At last, the Riverclan deputy let out a sigh and rested his head on his paws. “I hope, and I pray,” he murmured softly, “that Starclan leads us to where we are meant to be,” he continued, pausing. Mottlefoot by this point had returned to his side, laying down next to Eelbelly, their pelts touching. “And I hope and I pray,” Eelbelly continued, “that they guide us back home.” -----