Elkfeather: “...Oh we just...ran into each other going the same direction in a nowhere field.”
Elkfeather: “I must have gotten lost in a strange part of the moor. It was such an ugly place, the air was stagnant and sour. I couldn't even scent the heather on the breeze. It felt like there should be wind but there wasn’t, it was just as far as I could see...a lot of nothing.”
Some time ago...
A none-specific amount of time, but probably not too long... Probably. Oh, you get the gist of it by now
In any case, yes, a lot of nothing was a good way to describe it. The sky was dark, without the colors of dusk. The field swept wide in every direction, the grass felt brittle and dead. There were no mountains peaking above the horizon; it was on a flat empty plain. It was unfamiliar, and unusually devoid of features, even more than she was used to. But no matter. A dignified queen always kept her head on even in the most stressful of situations.
…Nearly every situation anyway. But this one was different. A WindClan cat should feel at home on the moor! There is no danger on their territory they can’t outwit or outrun. It is their greatest pride after all, they do not cower or creep beneath brambles or thickly woven trees. The endless exposed sky faces them and they embrace the feeling of open land and unhindered wind.
So why is it that on this moor she felt so...afraid? Without the sight of the horizon, the world felt so empty. The sky was blank, there was no sight of the sun and no sight of the stars that usually brought her comfort. There was nothing looking down on her. But...it was a moor all the same, right? She should have felt secure here. And yet nothing could have been further from the truth. She felt exposed. Watched. But there was no one around. She scented the air. Nothing. Not a scent. Not a rustle. And yet…. And yet she was not safe. Her heart thudded hard in her chest, every instinct drilled into her mind screamed in her head in unison that she was in terrible danger, that something here meant her harm, and no matter how fast she ran she would not escape it. Eventually she tried running anyway, aimless, uncontrolled, desperate to find something, anything in this empty moor. She thought for a moment that this must be what it felt like to be a rabbit stalked by an unseen hunter.
The indignity of her frantic panic pained her but she was helpless to stop it. She ran as fast as her paws had ever carried her before, but everything continued to look the same. She had the feeling if she ran until she dropped dead she would find no familiar landmarks, and never outrun whatever she felt was watching her. But she continued nonetheless. Until eventually, something else stopped her as the earth vanished below her paws.
If the situation could get worse, it somehow had. She was completely stuck. The soil felt like it was trying to eat her and thorny roots clawed into her skin. It was suffocating and all the while there was that persistent pesky feeling that something was right on her heels, getting closer and bound to pounce at any moment. She thrashed and struggled and felt a sharp painful jab in her spine. Then there were real claws on her back and she yowled so loud it hurt her throat.
There was suddenly a scraggly row of trees towering above her that somehow (perhaps in her confusion?) she hadn’t noticed herself coming towards, nor had she noticed the loose soil of abandoned rabbit burrows that she’d apparently caught herself in. Regardless, she tumbled backwards out of the hole and cam up swinging wildly at the claws that had pierced her.
Elkfeather: “Back! Get back, I’ll shred you! Just because I'm a queen doesn’t mean I've forgotten how to defend myself! ”
Plumtooth: “Agh! Sorry, geez! I thought you were a rabbit kicking around in the dirt like that. Excuse me, next time I’ll just let you flail around in a collapsed burrow!”
Elkfeather: “I didn’t need your--! Wait...who are you?”
Plumtooth: “Who am I? Who are you? I was just patrolling the border and I come across you, in a place you’re not supposed to be! So you’d better get off ThunderClan land before the rest of my patrol catches up to me.”
Elkfeather: “Excuse me? Does this look like ThunderClan’s forest to you?”
Plumtooth: “Well it’s um...T-there’s no WindClan scent markers, so yes, it is still our land. But I’m...actually not supposed to fight with queens, I think? Are you supposed to be escorted home or something?”
Elkfeather: “I don’t need a cat clearly hardly out of apprenticeship escorting me anywhere. Why don’t I just wait for your patrol, then?”
Plumtooth: “What--? Oh right, yes my patrol! They’ll be here er... soon. Any moment now.”
Elkfeather: “I knew you were bluffing. I should have guessed. I don’t need ThunderClan assistance, and I don’t have time for you, so good day!”
Plumtooth: “F-fine! Works for me! I hope you have a bad day!”
It’s fascinating how even in the most obviously dire of circumstances, clan cats from rival clans have a remarkable ability to keep being as unreasonable and standoffish as possible, even when there’s absolutely nothing to be gained from behaving in such a way. Something really needs to be pressing a claw to their throats in order for anything to get done. Fortunately, (or perhaps unfortunately), there was currently about a dozen claws pressing hard against every side.
Something about this place made one feel so alone, and small, and terribly vulnerable. So, without a better alternative in sight...
Elkfeather: “Actually, I have decided for your own sake, some cat should make sure you don’t get into trouble since you’ve clearly lost your patrol.”
Plumtooth: “Well I just decided-- for your sake-- that you being a queen and all, some cat should act as your guard until you find your way back to your own territory.”
Elkfeather: “For StarClan’s sake, I told you I still know how to fight for myse-- Oh forget it. We are in agreement then, and after this we will never have to see one another ever again!”
Plumtooth: “Agreed!”
