Swiftpaw's Chance: Chapter 8
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Standing in the forest, listening to the distant howls and the crash of a dozen bodies through the undergrowth, poised to chase the pack to their deaths, is the worst thing Dogscar has ever had to do. They picked a good spot, perched atop a huge fallen tree across a decently open space. They’ll be able to see the dogs coming and the tree should slow them down at least a little. Dogscar shifts in his spot on the tree, digging his claws into the bark as he looks around. Cloudtail is glaring directly at the brush where the pack is meant to emerge, half in front of Brightpaw like his body and an extra breath of time would save her.
Brightpaw catches his eye. “You scared?” she whispers.
“No,” Dogscar lies.
Brightpaw swallows. “Me neither.”
The sharp snap of a nearby stick makes all four of them prick their ears and freeze. The pack has arrived.
Graystripe bursts through first, the rest of his group right on his heels. Dogscar only has half a heartbeat to look before he whips around, but no one looks injured, thank StarClan.
“Everyone okay?” Longtail yowls as they start running.
“Fine!” Bluestar yowls back, breathless. “They haven’t caught us yet!”
Yet . Dogscar thinks, sparing a glance at his Clanmates. The dogs are bigger, and faster, and the first group is already out of breath. They won’t be able to keep this up forever, but if any of them were to try and veer away to escape, they could split up the pack.
They just have to get to Fireheart at the gorge. Dogscar lowers his head, puts on an extra burst of speed and pulls to the front of the group. They just have to ignore the howls and the snapping teeth and the fact that one wrong step could mean death and just...just make it to the gorge.
Someone screeches, in pain or terror or both, and Dogscar nearly breaks his neck turning to look. Thornpaw is running a step or two behind the others, and clearly favoring one leg. Mousefur drops back behind her apprentice and jumps, twisting in the air and slashing her claws down the pack leader’s muzzle. She lands her hind paws on the dog’s face and pushes off, hitting the ground at a run again.
The dog shakes its head and keeps going, but the attack cost it, and the pack, a few precious heartbeats, enough for Thornpaw to catch up to the rest of the patrol.
Dogscar looks ahead again. Through the trees he can just start to hear the crash of water, and when he bounds over a jutting rock he can see a dark shape that must be Fireheart.
“We’re almost there!” he yowls.
A few seconds later they crash through the bracken to Fireheart and the edge of the gorge is in front of them. Fireheart starts to run.
Out of nowhere a dark shape barrels into the deputy’s side. Dogscar forgets the danger of splitting the pack and leaving some dogs alive, diving out of the way after him. Behind him, Longtail shouts, “Dogscar!”
Tigerstar leaps away from Fireheart as Dogscar reaches them, already snarling. He leaps for the ShadowClan leader, but Tigerstar twists away from his grip with only minor scratches and slashes at Dogscar’s face before racing away. Back to ShadowClan territory or just to a safe distance to watch, Dogscar never finds out, because in the next instant a dog has him by the scruff, lifting him into the air.
His first thought is that at least it was only his scruff. His second is something along the lines of please, not again.
Someone, or several someones, are screaming his name, and the dog shakes him and flings him away.
The back of his neck stings, and blood on his forehead is dripping down his face, and the dogs are howling everywhere and Dogscar doesn’t know what’s happening. The forest is dark, dark, dark, just after sunset or just before dawn? He can’t tell, can’t think, can’t remember. His body aches, but is it his skin torn to pieces or just his scars twinging from being thrown?
There are bodies around him, and something touches his shoulder. He lurches, wild, stumbles up to his paws and away, shaking his head, trying to get the blood out of his eyes to face his attackers.
“Dogscar! It’s just us, it’s okay!”
Brightpaw. Brightpaw. He knows—he knows that. But which one? Before or after? Is there a difference? Which is which?
“The pack is in the river,” Cloudtail says, and that, that wasn’t in the forest the first time. It wasn’t.
Dogscar clings to that.
“Bluestar is too,” Longtail says quietly, and that gets Dogscar’s attention enough to focus. “We don’t know...it might be her last life. Fireheart dove after her, so now we just. We wait.”
Right. Dogscar’s eyes drift back to Cloudtail, a shock of white in the dark, and before he can stop himself or think better of it he’s pressing himself against the white tom.
“Dogscar?” Cloudtail asks. “What’re you—oh. Hey, it’s okay. Bet it’s hard to see with that blood, though.”
A tongue rasps over his face and Dogscar closes his eyes. When he opens them, his vision isn’t red anymore and the dogs are gone and his legs are trembling.
Brightpaw comes to stand at his other side, bracing. “You did good,” she murmurs. “The dogs are gone. It’s okay. We’re safe now.”
They’re not, though. Through the haze of his memory, which is mostly flashes and blank spots, Dogscar remembers seeing Tigerstar. He looks up as Brightpaw swipes her tongue over his cheek. “Where’d Tigerstar go?”
“It’s okay. Some warriors chased him off as soon as the dogs were gone. Even he isn’t stupid enough to take one four or five of us,” Cloudtail says.
Dogscar can only nod dimly to that. The threat is gone for now, but what about later? If Tigerstar could gather the dog pack, kill Brindleface just to lay a trap....he could do anything. What happened next might be worse, and the thought makes him sick.
“C’mon,” Brightpaw says at last, worry coloring her tone. “Let’s get back to camp. Standing around here won’t change what’s going on in the gorge, and Cinderpelt should take a look at you.”
Dogscar gives a halfhearted shake of his head, already knowing he’s going to lose. “It’s just a little scratch, it’s not that bad.”
“You know that’s not the only reason,” Cloudtail tells him, but it’s gentle.
Dogscar sighs and relents, and they walk back to camp, Longtail following loosely behind them. Except for when the terrain requires it they stay close to his sides, so their pelts all brush, and Dogscar can’t quite manage to say he can walk just fine on his own, thank you. The company is...it’s nice.
“Hey! Hey, Longtail, hold on!” Mousefur calls from behind them.
Brightpaw, Dogscar, and Cloudtail all pause to look back, and see Mousefur and Thornpaw making their way through the trees, Thornpaw leaning on Mousefur and clearly limping.
“Think I twisted my leg,” he says a bit ruefully as they get closer.
“You did a good job running on it like you did,” Longtail tells him.
Thornpaw beams at him and they keep walking, more slowly this time. When they finally reach the camp, it’s to Cinderpelt pacing nervously in front of the medicine cat den and Brackenfur and Sandstorm distracting the younger cats with a game by the nursery. All of them come over immediately when they notice their Clanmates’ return.
“Where are the others?” Cinderpelt asks, already looking behind them for the rest of ThunderClan.
“They’re coming. Tigerstar showed up, so some warriors are making sure he’s left now, along with any other ShadowClan cats he might have brought along,” Longtail says with a flick of his tail. “The dogs all drowned in the river, and Bluestar and Fireheart....we aren’t exactly sure-“
Brackenfur interrupts. “Sure of what?”
“Bluestar was carried over the edge of the gorge along with the pack leader. Firestar jumped in to save her, but they were swept downstream pretty far. The warriors at Sunningrocks went after them, so we just...have to wait, now, to see what’s happened,” Mousefur reports.
Cinderpelt hovers for a moment, shocked, then nods to Dogscar and Thornpaw. “These the only wounded?”
“As far as we know,” Longtail says grimly.
“Okay. The two of you, come with me. The rest of you can eat or wait for the others or help Brackenfur and Sandstorm distract the little ones.” Cinderpelt takes Mousefur’s place supporting Thornpaw and heads back to her den.
Dogscar hesitates a moment, not quite ready to leave whatever world he’s in where Cloudtail and Brightpaw are pressed against him when he doesn’t exactly have the excuse of needing the support. Then Brightpaw licks his ear and Cloudtail bumps his shoulder comfortingly and they all three slip apart at about the same time.
Then Dogscar ducks into the medicine den and Cinderpelt immediately asks him to grab some broom and make a poultice.
“Still not a medicine cat,” Dogscar reminds her, even as he automatically scans the stores. “What is that, anyway, I don’t remember you using it.”
“Small leaves, little yellow flowers. It can help soothe broken bones. Yellowfang used it on me. I don’t think this leg is broken, but the same principles apply,” Cinderpelt explains.
Dogscar finds the broom and starts chewing some of it into a poultice. While he does Cinderpelt get a little marigold to make a poultice of her own, which she applies to the scratches on Dogscar’s face along with some cobweb.
Between chewing up leaves, Dogscar says, “I thought you were meant to treat the worst injury first.”
“I was waiting on the broom,” Cinderpelt informs him, scooping up some of the poultice he’s made to gently apply to Thornpaw’s leg.
Thornpaw winces as she finishes with the poultice and begins to wrap his leg in a thick swath of cobwebs.
“We won’t need any sticks to splint the leg, hopefully,” she says. “Thornpaw, I’m going to give you some poppy seeds and have you stay here overnight so I can keep an eye on you.”
Thornpaw nods and licks up the tiny black seeds that are offered to him before struggling to his paws and back to one of the nests. Dogscar takes the opportunity to look back outside. Longtail and Mousefur are sitting close together, heads bent, alternating between watching the camp entrance anxiously and watching the medicine den just as anxiously. Brackenfur and Sandstorm have returned to playing with their apprentices and the kits, and Brightpaw and Cloudtail...
Brightpaw and Cloudtail are huddled together, so close there’s no space left between them, tucked together like, well. Almost like mates. And Dogscar can’t exactly tell if the little pang in his chest when Cloudtail licks at Brightpaw’s ear is softness or jealousy or some mix of both.
There’s more rustling in the woods just at that moment, and every single cat’s head swivels to the sound. Cinderpelt appears in a heartbeat at Dogscar’s side, and then they come in. All of ThunderClan. And two strangers.
From where he’s standing Dogscar can just catch the scent of RiverClan on the two blue-gray cats walking beside Fireheart, but that’s not the important part. The important part is the equally blue-gray body the three of them are carrying.
“Is she-“ Cinderpelt starts, and then stops when Fireheart looks at her.
“She made her peace with StarClan before she died,” he says roughly. “We’ll hold a vigil for her tonight and then I’ll go to the Moonstone tomorrow.”
“What about...?” Longtail trails off, waving his tail vaguely at the RiverClan cats.
“This is Mistyfoot and Stonefur,” Fireheart says.
“Bluestar is— was —our mother,” Mistyfoot murmurs.
A little shocked gasp runs through the cats. Cinderpelt shoulders past Dogscar, but not because of the announcement. Her mouth is already full of mint and lavender, all business as she heads to the center of camp. Fireheart, Mistyfoot, and Stonefur lay Bluestar’s body down and ThunderClan slowly creeps closer to her as Cinderpelt arranges her herbs.
Dogscar peers at Mistyfoot and Stonefur as they bend over their mother’s body. Stonefur presses his nose to Bluestar’s neck, his whole body shuddering. Mistyfoot leans comfortingly against her brother, lapping at his cheek.
“You’re both welcome to stay and keep vigil for her,” Fireheart offers softly.
Stonefur takes an audible breath and straightens. “No. We shouldn’t...she was your leader. We barely knew her. And RiverClan will be wondering where we are. Their deputy spending a night away from camp...it’s not exactly the best idea.”
“But she’s your mother , surely if you explained-“ Fireheart tries.
“She gave us away,” Mistyfoot says, shaking her head. She holds up her tail to stop both Fireheart and Stonefur’s protests. “I know she had her reasons, and I won’t condemn her for them, but a few minutes by a river doesn’t change everything . We’ve paid our respects. We’ll leave your Clan now to do the same.”
Fireheart dips his head to the two RiverClan cats as they leave. Dogscar joins the Rest of ThunderClan as they prepare to pay their last respects. Whitestorm is the first to step up, ducking his head to press his muzzle to the top of Bluestar’s head. He whispers something Dogscar can’t—probably shouldn’t—hear and moves to sit next to her, where he’ll keep vigil until dawn.
Fireheart and Cinderpelt follow and join Whitestorm at their fallen leader’s side. Dogscar drifts slowly over to where Brightpaw and Cloudtail are still standing together.
“Are you going up?” Brightpaw whispers.
Dogscar looks at Bluestar. He...he doesn’t know. He knows that she was...complicated. That she wasn’t entirely evil or cruel, just scared and angry. It doesn’t change what she did to him and Brightpaw, but it’s much harder to hate her when she’s dead on the ground, having sacrificed herself for all their sakes.
Brightpaw and Cloudtail are still looking at him, and Dogscar finally nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I will. Are you...?”
They both nod together and start walking, and before Dogscar can even really think about it he’s staring down at Bluestar, her head wreathed in lavender. She looks so different in death, with her fur still damp from the river showing every bone of her body. Dogscar lowers his head in the best show of respect he can manage, but all he can think is how thin Bluestar is. Wasn’t there anyone to notice, to help?
Cinderpelt and Fireheart tried, he thinks, and that’s the scariest part. That cats were trying to help Bluestar and failing until all that was left was her thin, half-drowned body on a riverbank.
Shaking the dark thoughts from his head, Dogscar straightens and walks past the cats sitting vigil, nodding to them all. Cinderpelt meets his eyes as he passes her, something unreadable in her gaze.
Dogscar looks back for a few heartbeats and glances away at the last second.
“Hey, we were moving into the warriors den tonight,” Brightpaw says, drawing his attention back to her.
Dogscar nods, looking over at the den as warriors slowly slip into it, and heads to the medicine den to fetch some bedding. Entering the warriors den for the first time after so many delays feels monumental, so much so that Dogscar actually pauses outside it, just to think for a moment. He is a warrior now, and technically so is Brightpaw, even without her name. With everything else that happened today, it feels silly that this is still so big and important, but it is.
The warriors den was everything Dogscar wanted, his whole reason for the dog attack. He glances one last time at Brightpaw and Cloudtail and finally ducks into the den.
It’s not very crowded, which only speaks to how many cats they’ve lost recently. Not just the ones that died in the fire, but Tigerstar and Darkstripe and Brindleface, as well. As Dogscar makes his nest he thinks about Snowkit and Sorrelkit and her brothers and what good warriors they’ll make, one day.
Or maybe medicine cats. Cinderpelt does need an apprentice, after all.
Without speaking the three of them arrange their nests together in the outermost ring of warriors, tucked so close that when they lay down they’re just about touching. Dogscar watches Brightpaw stretch out and roll onto her back to blink sleepily up at him.
“Hi,” she whispers. “Welcome to being a warrior.”
“Hey,” he replies, softly.
“Do you...” Brightpaw’s mouth twists a bit, unsure, “do you think you’ll be able to fight? I know you probably don’t wanna talk about it, but ever since, you know, the dogs, you’ve been...well. You know.”
“Yeah,” Dogscar says quietly. “I don’t know.”
“You could always be a medicine cat, Cloudtail whispers. “If the warrior thing didn’t work out.”
Brightpaw’s eyes grow huge. “Cloudtail! Don’t say that.”
Dogscar shrugs. “He’s not...wrong. I’m good at it, I think. Cinderpelt’s been sneakily training me, I think. But I don’t know. Being a warrior is all I ever wanted, right? So if I give that up, doesn’t it make the whole dog attack for nothing?”
“No way. For one, you discovered what was at Snakerocks before any other cat. And you were the only one to really fight what Bluestar was doing then.” Brightpaw rolls back onto her belly and straightens up to look at him properly.
“You were so brave that day, Dogscar, and so strong,” Cloudtail says. “None of that could ever be a waste. If you wanted to be a medicine cat, you’d be more than entitled to it, I think. You’ve had enough fighting for a whole lifetime.”
Dogscar scoffs at that last bit. “Yeah, okay.”
“We’re serious, Dogscar,” Brightpaw insists, and then wrinkles her nose. “Another question, though. Are you...it’s completely up to you, I mean, but are you really going to keep Dogscar forever?”
“Not like I have many other options.” He shrugs.
“But if you could change it? Maybe back to Swift?” she presses.
Dogscar just shrugs again. “Maybe. I dunno. Not like it’s gonna happen, so.”
Brightpaw doesn’t exactly look satisfied with that answer, but she nods and lays her head on her forepaws. “Okay, well, whatever you decide, about any of it, it’s going to be great.”
Dogscar hums as he curls up as well. Cloudtail nudges him gently with his nose.
“She’s right, you know,” he whispers. “But you don’t have to decide anything right now. Go to sleep, we can talk in the morning.”
Dogscar doesn’t even get a chance to respond to that, because Cloudtail immediately lays down and curls his impossibly fluffy tail over his face. He just blinks a little in confusion at we can talk in the morning . He guesses a battle that could’ve easily ended all their lives has pushed them a bit closer than before. To a place where they sleep together. Discuss Dogscar’s future, his name, whatever. A place where they can talk to each other later , where they have a guaranteed later with one another.
He’s not sure why that’s important, but it feels important.
Dogscar smiles a bit to himself and finally goes to sleep.