#troutpath

Flyfang, a sturdily-built ticked tabby, kneaded at the soft, grassy ground below her feet. Even at this distance, she could smell the rain coming towards her. It wasn’t too far away; it’d take maybe an hour before the heavy stuff hit where she was now. By then, the sun would fully be up, but she figured these stormclouds were thick enough that it’d be dim anyways. The lack of sunlight to give reflections on the water would encourage the rest of the family to head towards the lake on the border, where there were bigger fish to catch.

Nighttime would have been preferable, but Flyfang wasn’t willing to wait until then. Who knew how long it would rain for? She was only waiting for the ceremony to be over to-

“There you are!”

Flyfang jumped and looked back with alarm, which immediately went away as she recognized her little sisters standing side by side behind her. She turned fully to them with an automatic grin.

“And there you are,” she said.

One of the kits, Gnatkit, was the spitting image of her: a stout and rounded grey molly with flecked markings all over her back.  The other, Mosquitokit, was black with white feet and a white marking on her chest, and her tail was waving back and forth in delight.

“How do we look?” asked Gnatkit. She stood like a warrior on watch, but Flyfang could only see a kitten fresh out of the nursery.

“You look ready to get yourselves some mentors.” Flyfang bent down a little to meet their eye levels and winked. “Don’t worry, I made sure you’ll have the best ones in the family.”

“And in the Territory?” asked Mosquitokit, leaning forward far enough to almost fall onto her face. Her wide eyes faintly reflected the clouds that were now behind Flyfang.

“Weeellll…” Flyfang looked around and leaned in as well, whispering conspiratorially, “Don’t tell your mentors, but I think there might be some better ones out in the valley.”

Mosquitokit gasped and swatted at Flyfang’s nose. “Don’t say that!”

“You didn’t do a very good job finding us mentors, then,” Gnatkit said, and jerked away from another swipe aimed at her shoulder.

“Ravenleap and Troutpath are good!” Flyfang protested, rubbing her nose as if she’d been actually struck. “They’ll be fine for now.”

At this, her sisters went quiet and looked at each other with concern. They knew better than to continue down the “for now” conversation thread, but that unspoken topic floated over all of them in place of the dark grey clouds.

Flyfang quickly recovered with another grin. “Now, let’s go back. The first one there gets to push the other two into the water!”

Her sisters squawked as Flyfang leapt over their heads and started off at a jog. She heard them scrambling to follow her and picked up her pace just enough to keep them running without pushing each other out of the way.

The three of them jumped over the small criss-crossing streams that threaded their home without a second thought, throwing joking insults back and forth as they went. As the grass started to flatten and expose the other family members of the Marish that were all heading the same way, Gnatkit and Mosquitokit had caught up to Flyfang and were trying to slow her down by grabbing her tail between their teeth or attacking her paws to make her stumble. When they crossed the last stream and entered the wide island that was the Marish’s current camp, Flyfang let herself topple over and cry out as her sisters wrestled with her legs and ears.

Flyfang knew they were disturbing the peace of the camp, just as she knew without looking that the deputy was standing nearby and watching her disdainfully. Minnownose, an elderly grey-brown-and-white molly, had gotten everyone else to obediently turn over the responsibility of raising their kits to the heads of the Marish. The kits’ father, Swiftdust, had already agreed to let her make all decisions regarding Gnatkit and Mosquitokit’s lives. The family had always been overly submissive in all respects – no fighting, no telling hurtful truths, just listen to your seniors no matter how insane they were – and it was considered natural that the “entire family” should decide the fate of the kits living there.

Which was why they all hated Flyfang so much.

Of course, no one would admit they hated her. That wasn’t the Marish way. All but Minnownose had given up on trying to get Flyfang to “calm down” and “just obey her elders”. Now they just ignored her when she walked past or gave her looks when she started wrestling with the twins. But Flyfang knew they hated her regardless. The Marish were secretive, but they weren’t as subtle as they thought they were.

It was why Flyfang was preparing an escape once her sisters’ apprentice ceremony was complete, something that was almost as bad as murder in the Marish. She’d done a lot of persuading and pleading to get the most open-minded members of the family to agree to request her sisters as apprentices, so they could be well cared for in her absence. Flyfang couldn’t take them now, with them just being six months old – apprentices had to be nine months before they could travel safely and without anyone protesting for their health. She planned to come back and sneak them off once they’d learned how to hunt and fight and were more developed and able to walk long distances. She just couldn’t stay here any longer. This was killing her.

“Alright, alright!” she cried, laughing. “Let me up!”

“Only if you promise not to throw us in the water!” Mosquitokit punctuated this with a bite on Flyfang’s cheek.

It didn’t hurt too badly, but Flyfang yelped anyway. “I won’t! I won’t! Someone help!”

“You’re a grown warrior,” Minnownose cut in, her cold voice slicing through the humid air. “Should you be acting like this and encouraging your sisters to play rough before their ceremony?”

Immediately, the kits let go of Flyfang and backed away nervously. Flyfang rolled her eyes, sighed as loudly as she could, and got to her feet.

“I don’t know,” she said to Minnownose, “you tell me. You’re fond of that, aren’t you?”

Minnownose did not rise to her bait. Instead, she made a beckoning motion with her tail. “I’d like to talk to you.”

Flyfang looked back at her sisters and made a face. The two of them fought off their giggles and sat down, grooming themselves to look busy. Flyfang gently tapped both of their heads with her tail and walked silently to the deputy, her smile replaced with narrowed eyes.

Minnownose led her a small distance away, just far enough that they could not be heard by the rest of the family. She turned around, sat, and curled her tail around her paws. Flyfang stayed standing, silently daring her to order her to sit too.

She didn’t. Instead she mirrored Flyfang’s narrowed eyes. “Your sisters are to be apprenticed today. Do you know the mentors we’ve chosen?”

“We”, sure, Flyfang thought nastily. Always “we” in this family, isn’t it? “Ravenleap and Troutpath. They told-“

“They talked with me and requested to become mentors,” Minnownose interrupted, colder than before. “They did their best to make it sound like it was their idea. However, I’m not stupid. I know you put them up to it.”

Flyfang said nothing.

“I humored you this one last time,” Minnownose went on. “You have your little victory over me this one last time. After today, you’ve lost all right to tell me what to do with the kits and apprentices of this family.”

Flyfang’s fur bristled all over her body. Her claws unsheathed of their own accord as she tried to remind herself that it didn’t matter because she was leaving anyway. It didn’t help any; she still wanted nothing more than to claw the contempt off of the old bat’s face.

“That’s all.” Minnownose stood up and walked past Flyfang. “The ceremony’s starting now. Come.”

Flyfang vaguely wondered how life would be once she didn’t have anyone she hated in her face all the time as she followed the deputy.

The clouds were getting closer already, almost covering the sun. That was nice.

Flyfang could barely enjoy the ceremony. She watched her sisters become apprentices and greet their mentors without really absorbing it, chanted their names without thought. Her enthusiasm was there, but she was hardly thinking. The family ended the ceremony with Minnownose announcing a hunting party and leading almost all of them south, where the streams got thicker and thicker until they pooled into a lake. The only ones left in the camp were Flyfang, her sisters and their mentors.

“We’re going to show them around the marsh,” Troutpath said to Flyfang. “Would you like to come with us?”

Flyfang shook her head. “Not right now. I want to see how the hunting is up towards the valley. Best fish are at the lake, I know, but we’ve been having some luck with the smaller schools, so.”

Troutpath nodded. “We can meet you up there later?”

A light in her old mentor’s eyes told her that he had a suspicion that she was up to something, but, like always, he had her back and said nothing. She simply smiled and returned the nod before speaking to her sisters, who had run up to her.

“I’ll see you guys later,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “You’ll be alright without me for a bit, I’m sure.”

They were smart enough to not give her away. Instead, they both pressed their noses into her shoulders.

“I love you very much,” she said, low enough for only them to hear. “And I’ll be back, I promise.”

Mosquitopaw nodded and murmured, “We’ll be the worst apprentices.”

“Even worse than you,” Gnatpaw agreed in a whisper.

“Atta girls.” Flyfang gave them a lick on the ear each and stepped back, waving her tail casually and raising her voice. “Hopefully fishing’s good upriver. Have fun on the tour, you two.”

Neither of the apprentices spoke. They just nodded and turned away slowly, following their mentors as they left camp. Flyfang noticed with some small mix of pride and grief that they didn’t look back, just stayed cool and natural on their departure.

Flyfang waited until they were far enough away to not hear her footsteps before starting off at a half-run north. The rain started up, gently tapping her along her spine and shoulders. She picked up her pace just as the rain did the same. She sent a silent thanks to the rain’s aspect that she was struggling to see far ahead of herself and that her paws were already soaked – it’d be too difficult for the Marish to track her down and force her to return in weather like this.

The pathetic black-and-white tom that was her stepfather was bobbing his head up and down like a fishing duck, murmuring affirmations and apologies. Ever since her mother had died, he had handed over authority of Flypaw’s life to Minnownose, who was currently staring him down coldly, and he would agree with every single idea the deputy had about how to discipline Flypaw and lead her down the path of obedience.

Flypaw hated both of them for opposite reasons. Swiftdust was a simpering wuss who’d never had an original opinion in his life. Minnownose, on the other paw, was the pinnacle of what the Marish desired in their community – quiet, stern and dedicated to keeping everyone together and in perfect unity. No one had fought in a long time because of her mediations and threats of punishment, and that was just how everyone liked it.

Flypaw, being the exact opposite of everything this family stood for, threatened their shallow peace and serenity. As such, she was constantly in trouble. She was amazed they even let her near her sisters anymore, but, then again, it wasn’t like they could stop her without beating her within an inch of her life or exiling her, and neither of those things were The Ideal Way. The Marish insisted on everyone staying and keeping the knowledge and secrets they had within the family, no matter what.

So screw her, she guessed.

One cat stood up – her mentor, Troutpath. He said something that she couldn’t quite hear, but his tone and submissive body gestures gave away that he was trying to vie for a talk, rather than a punishment.

Good ol’ Troutpath. The only cat looking out for her.

Abruptly, the three cats stood up and approached Flypaw - Minnownose with her chin raised so she could look down dismissively at the apprentice, Swiftdust with his tail between his legs and his stupid meek shuffle, and Troutpath actually walking like a normal person. A welcome respite.

“Er…Flypaw.” Swiftdust looked at Minnownose, who nodded at him, and he stepped a little closer, in the same manner one would approach a venomous snake. “Minnownose would like to address your fight today.”

“She can bite me,” Flypaw said.

Swiftdust flinched. “Flypaw, please-“

“Fine.” Flypaw stood up and gave the deputy her most hate-filled glare she could manage. “You can bite me.”

Minnownose blinked disdainfully at her and jerked her head at Troutpath. A classic Marish motion: She’s your apprentice, do your job.

Flypaw watched the motion with rage burning in her chest, but she stared down at the ground, bristling all over. Her short fur made it impossible for her to look much bigger than she was, but she knew her aura would at least ward off the deputy from talking to her directly.

Troutpath sat down in front of his apprentice. She could feel his patient gaze. “Flypaw…”

Flypaw met his eyes with a fierce, unspoken challenge.

Troutpath did not rise to it. He spoke kindly. “Would you like to talk about what’s going on?”

Flypaw wanted to glower at him until he looked away, but it was she who turned her head first. “I’unno.”

“Here, come on.” Troutpath stood up, adding to Minnownose, “We’ll be back later.”

Minnownose grunted. Troutpath gently nudged Flypaw, and, for once, she obediently got up and stalked after him out of camp.

Nothing was said as they hopped over streams and parted the grass. Flypaw was scowling at the ground, unaware of their direction, just following the sound of her mentor’s footsteps. The longer they walked, the more hunched over she got, and the more her steps lagged.

She stepped over Troutpath’s tail and just barely stopped in time to avoid crashing into him. He had seated himself on a flat, grass-free patch of land, circled by water. He turned and gave her an inviting nod. Reluctantly, she sat down beside him and looked up to see where they were.

Ah. No wonder they had come here. This was her favorite place in the Marish’s homeland.

Here, the ground raised a little, just enough to see into the valley with a mostly uninterrupted view – almost all the way to end of the flatlands, blocked only by patches of forest and the sheer distance between here and where the leaders lived. If Flypaw squinted and the light was right, the faint grey on the horizon formed into the fabled stone houses the Clast lived in. The way the sun was setting behind them caught the snow on the mountains to the east and turned them almost orange, with the uncovered rocks jutting out on the slopes turned a sharp black. The grass was still green in the valley, a gentle breeze in the distance sending a wave of gold wherever it touched down, with black dots casting long shadows moving about, catching prey or chasing each other back and forth.

Flypaw let out a huge breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and at once the tension left her body.

“There we are,” Troutpath said, with an affectionate touch of his chin to the top of her head. “Feeling better?”

Flypaw nodded.

“I thought that might help.” The way Troutpath was colored by the sunset, he looked like an entirely different cat – his brown patches were red, and most of the white of his body was dark blue. “Do you want to talk now?”

Flypaw wanted to be more sullen than she actually felt, but the serenity of the end of the day opened her mouth. “I guess.”

“Alright.” Troutpath lowered into a crouch, settling down for the long haul. “What’s troubling you?”

Flypaw took a breath, let it out, and breathed in again. “I’unno. Lots.”

Troutpath nodded for her to go on.

The storm in the back of Flypaw’s head rumbled and swelled, and before she knew it she was off. “I’m just tired of this whole…thing. All of it. I don’t want to shut up, I want to talk. And I don’t want Gnatkit and Mosquitokit to be told to shut up either. They’re kittens, they should get to talk as much as they want! So should I! What’s wrong with being loud? Why can’t we just yell once in a while?

“And- and I hate that Swiftdust is just letting Minnownose do whatever she wants with HIS kits. And no one listens to me, even though I’m going to be a warrior in a couple months! I know them better than HE does! But he gets to be the one to shove them off on an old bat who doesn’t know what it’s like to be young anymore? It’s rotten!”

Troutpath looked amused for a moment, but his face turned serious again before Flypaw could berate him. She bared her teeth like a dog and continued, bristling again.

“And, you know, I’d leave to be rid of all this! I’d let them kick me out – if they WOULD kick me out! But they won’t! They want everyone who knows anything about the Marish to stay here! They’ll do their best to keep me here so I don’t go off spilling secrets or whatever-the-muck they’re so concerned about! Who would want to talk about this crappy place, anyway?! I should just take my sisters and go! Just leave in the middle of the night, before they can stop me! But they’ll just track me down and try to drag me back! Even though no one except my mom wanted me here to begin with!”

Flypaw’s voice cracked on the last sentence and she choked on her breath. A wave of hurt hit her square in the chest and she almost sagged with the weight of it. She hardly even noticed her mentor’s tail on her back as she coughed out pained breath after pained breath. She let herself sink to the ground, mirroring Troutpath’s position, burying her nose in her paws.

“I want to go,” she managed finally, voice weak and wobbly. “I want out of here. Now. But I can’t leave my sisters trapped in this family before they have the chance to figure out who they want to be. And no one will let me take them with me.”

Troutpath blinked slowly at her – an expression of compassion, and one that she rarely received. He said quietly, “This isn’t the best place for an individual to grow, I agree.”

Flypaw lifted her nose and rested her chin on her paws, eyes too heavy to keep open. “I hate it here.”

“I know.” Troutpath’s tail gently tapped along her back. He paused. “You’re always feeling these things, though. Did any of this cause you to get into a fight with Dapplepaw?”

Flypaw managed a snort. “It wasn’t a fight. I hit him a couple times and he wailed for his mentor to stop me instead of doing anything himself.”

Troutpath almost looked like he wanted to laugh, but he stayed on topic. “What did he say to upset you?”

“I’unno.” Flypaw’s eyes drifted to the side, focused on a bent blade of grass. “He said I shouldn’t get to see my sisters at all. Something ‘bout a ‘bad influence’. I forget. I just got mad and hit him.”

Troutpath hummed.

“I’m not gunna apologize,” Flypaw said. “I don’t care how much trouble I get in. I’m the only one who actually cares about the twins enough to protect them. I’ll fight every single member of this family to the death to let them be their own cats and not just a mindless shadow following along with the herd.”

“Would you fight me?” Troutpath asked.

“Well, no, of course not you.” Flypaw made a face at him, and he did laugh this time. “You and their foster mom, I’d leave alone.”

“Duckheart’s been letting you visit the nursery, then,” Troutpath said, surprised. “I thought she was upset with you.”

“No, just with me yelling so much or whatever.” Flypaw tilted her head in a feline version of a shrug. “Doesn’t want me to wake her litter. She doesn’t care if the girls are awake.”

Troutpath nodded and fell silent, turning his head to the valley and gazing out at the growing darkness. Flypaw joined him in watching the land slowly drown in shadow and the stars appear and speckle the night sky as the warmer colors faded away.

And, like always, the sight slowly drained Flypaw of her bitterness and anger. She started focusing on the stars, counting to ten in one area, then counting to ten again in another, and trying to keep track of which ones she had already numbered. It was more fun than she thought it would be.

Fun enough, in fact, that she jumped out of her reverie when Troutpath spoke again. “Are you ready to go home?”

Flypaw blinked twice and looked at him. Heaving a sigh, she nodded and stood up. “I’m not going to have to say sorry, am I?”