Give Me One Reason [Closed]

The rotting shell of a house groaned underneath the weight of snowfall. To a human ear, it would have been unnoticeable, but to the cat inside, it was a horrific sound. His ear twitched and he grumbled softly. There were remnants of tattered cloths that lined the fairly tiny sized den. He'd found some fluff inside of these scraps. It was far more comfortable than what him and his mother had when they rested in the city. This place was nothing like the city. It was nothing like the forest either. With unsheathed claws, he tore into the fabric and buried deeper into the remains of what had once been a pillow. The warmth was most certainly welcome against the cold. But, the former warrior found himself unable to sleep. Even with a full belly, due to the decent amount of mice that ran around the abandoned twolegplace dens, and a warm nest, Coyotefang was as wide awake as ever.

For the first time since he'd left, the tabby tom felt himself missing the warmth that came from the figures of sleeping warriors around him. He hated the fact he found himself missing clan life. It was similar to what Wolffang had gone through before him. Although, he hadn't left entirely willingly. A group of rogues had been sniffing around the territory when they found him. Given his lack of desire to fight, he had left with them in order to prevent a fight. At first, it felt freeing walking away from a life that had felt forced upon him. But, it felt so wrong being away. Even if Blizzardstar had been overbearing at times, there was a part of him that still prickled with guilt for leaving her, and Leafstorm, and Leopardclaw behind. Memories of the clan would keep him up if he had managed to get some sleep. Apparently it wasn't coming easy tonight.

His amber eyes shot over to the nest on the other side where Roland slept. That lazy, old rogue wouldn't budge if they were raided by all of Shadowclan. The group he had come upon was loosely structured, similar to Reno's group, but far less aggressive. Once they had found a place to settle, none of them were that bad. Yet, as much as he didn't mind it here, the warrior was still unhappy.

Treading lightly, Coyotefang squeezed through a tiny opening and began to pad towards the newer twolegplace. He wasn't quite sure what drew him there, but he had no idea where else to go. Ever since coming here, he had no idea how to get back to Thunderclan territory. It was part of what had kept him there for so long. With a long sigh, the air in front of him fogged up. This was stupid, to be outside on such a cold night. But, he had no desire to head back to the warm den. After quite some time, he picked up the scent of a another. His fur bristled slightly both as a response to that and the cold. The smell was that of a housecat. Nothing too dangerous. With narrowed eyes, he continued on with a mild interest. As the stranger and him came face to face, Coyotefang's head cocked slightly. There was something familiar about the tom that stood before him, "Who are you?"

The bitter cold sank its teeth beneath the pelt of a dark tabby tom. He shivered, his fluffed up fur doing what it could against the leafbare's chill. The warmth of a two-leg nest behind him. If he turned around, he could simply scratch on the door and be taken in. He knew these twolegs would let him curl up near the fire, he'd have to let them rub their paws on him a little, but he couldn't stop himself from recoiling at the idea. He shook his coat and flicked his tail in thought. There was no helping it. He turned back to look at the twoleg nest, the soft light from the windows, the warmth of the fire and jumped down from the fence into the cold snow on the other side. He looked up towards the stars, gazing at the faint specks he could see between the clouds. He was a clan cat. He could not rely on any twolegs. Though they had helped him, the fresh scar on his left flank would have been far worse, he could not stop his journey. He'd make it back to his clan one way or another.

He took a deep breath of the cold air and steeled himself for the long journey ahead. He had already travelled so far. He had made it through three of those awful twoleg places, towns the housecats called them, he could make it through one more. He had to, his sisters, his mother, his clan were waiting. He purred subconsciously as he thought about his family. Puddlepaw... he wondered if she ever outgrew those little moss balls she loved so much. What kind of medicine cat had she become? What about Wolfpaw and Emberpaw? What fierce warriors they would be by now. He felt his pelt prickle, would any of them even recognise him? Would Hazeflight? His black ears flattened in worry, what if they didn't recognise him?

He looked up at the clouds. The dark grey of them held no answer for him as the tom forced his paws to keep moving. They would remember, maybe he would be able to meet his father properly. He dimly remembered meeting him once many moons ago. Perhaps at a gathering... there must have been one recently. He picked his way slowly through a clump of bushes, he still had never been to one. He'd been taken before Ravenclaw had the chance to take him to one. What would she say to his return? He felt a prickle of fear as he recalled Thrushstar... that stern old cat. He shook his head, clanmates are different then rogues. He would be different than a rogue.

A rogue didn't carry the rank of 'paw' with the same pride as he did. Marshpaw pushed on. The cycle of uncertainty threatened to continue until he stopped, his eyes narrowed to see beyond the dark snow. He lowered his head, he held his growl back and slowly stepped towards the other cat. Once he could see there was no collar, he growled uncertainly. The snow melted into his pelt darkened it further, amber eyes meeting the stranger's head on without fear. He stood proudly, his muscles relaxed for the moment. Some rogues were friendly, but he was ready to defend himself if he needed to. "I am Marshpaw of Shadowclan, who are you?"

A growling kittypet. Now that was something new. His ears flattened slightly at the sound, but he didn't step back. It was obvious this cat was far older than him. Perhaps near Wolffang's age. A slight pang of sadness hit him as usual as he remembered his late mother. Amber eyes scanned over the stranger once more as he searched for a sign of what made him feel like he remembered this cat. When the housecat finally spoke, Coyotefang's confusion only grew. He narrowed his eyes in disbelief. On one paw, how could a cat raised deep in the heart of the town even know of the clans? But on the other paw, how would he have even known of their customs? When he had first come to Thunderclan, Coyotefang barely knew anything. Even still, because of his upbringing, the tabby used a lot of words the clans had never heard of.

"If you're from Shadowclan, what are you doing here?" There was a skeptical tone for sure. Coyotefang flicked his tail slightly as he tried to let the fur on his shoulders relax. It only frustrated him further as he stared into amber eyes that were similar to his own, like staring into his reflection on the water. Plenty of cats had amber eyes, why was he wasting his time on a kittypet. If it weren't for a spark of interest in his claims about being Shadowclan, the warrior would have gone on his way. But, maybe, just maybe, this cat could help lead him in the right direction? He suppressed a shudder as another frigid breeze ruffled his coat while he awaited an answer.

The rogue's question intrigued him. That he didn't ask what ShadowClan was... was he close? Was he finally near his home? He resisted the urge to leap to a bunch of questions like a kit. Marshpaw chose to ignore the scepticism in the question.
"I was taken by twolegs when I was a young apprentice." He admitted slowly. While it wasn't something he saw with shame anymore, who can predict the twolegs after all? He knew it was telling that he wasn't in bad condition. He probably smelled more like twoleg dens then clan. The thought made him shift uncomfortably. "I've been on a journey to find my way back home ever since." He stepped back. It wouldn't do him any good to frighten this stranger off if he knew something. "Do you know of the clans?" He asked his paws shifted a bit in the snow as he asked the more pressing question. "Do you know anything about Hazeflight?"

It was a long shot. This rogue probably didn't know any of the clan cats by name, but it was worth a shot. Marshpaw settled back into the snow. He could see the fur on the other tom was still fluffed and this was his first lead in a long time. He looked over the young tom in front of him. He realised with a startling clarity that he was a bit younger than himself... then wolfpaw... The realization startled him. Did Wolfpaw and Emberpaw have kits? They must have by now, he'd been gone for so long! He wondered how the kits would have faired so far... would they be young paws? Marshpaw forced himself to at least look calm as his thoughts raced ahead of him. So close, so close to home. 'Just wait for me... I'll be home soon.' He thought to himself. Starclan willing, soon.

"I don't think Thunderclan cats are supposed to know the names of every Shadowclan warrior..." The tom muttered as he glanced down at his paws, "I barely know the names of my own clanmates, so no, I've never heard of them." He had never really cared much before, finding very little allegiance within the clan, but now it felt strange to be saying it aloud. Was it possible he was disappointed in himself for not being a proper warrior? Or was it just the fact that he had felt for so long that was what was expected of him? Either way, he couldn't tell. It caused a feeling of discomfort to settle in his stomach. There were so little times he let himself feel much of anything, let alone anything like this. His amber gaze rose from the snow-whitened ground back up to Marshpaw's. The housecat's story did seem plausible due to how much older he was and still clinging to an apprentice title. That made sense.

As much as he hated conversing with others, particularly those who had no value to him, it seemed this cat was the closest thing he had to a hint towards the clan. But, based on his story, it was possible Marshpaw had been away longer than Coyotefang. There were some doubts that he knew the way out. His ear flicked as he thought about it. After a moment, he released a tense breath into the air. While going back to the way things were did not seem like the best idea, he wanted it more than being here. It seemed like the best option. Finally, Coyotefang spoke once more, "Well, my mother was Shadowclan and so my clan leader probably knows something about them, so you could talk to her. Or, you could return to your own clan and find out for yourself, I guess. Any idea how to get back towards the forest?"

His ears strained to catch the muttered words. It seemed strange to him, why would a Thunderclan cat be out here? Why was he so estranged? Marshpaw turned these thoughts over until the tom mentioned his mother. Well, that certainly explained things. He distantly remembered his own father as being Skyclan. Was it more common then he remembered? He stepped forward, then settled down on his haunches, wincing as an old wound on his left flank was aggravated. The muscle beneath two mostly covered patches of fur still healing despite the twolegs he had been with caring for it.  
"I will rejoin my clan, my family is there." Marshpaw said slowly, his tail flicked uncertainly as he turned over memories and thoughts. It had to be close. The forest had to be. He looked up towards the sky, trying to see the stars beyond the clouds that were currently blocking them. "I don't know for sure, but all twoleg places come to an end. If we travel in a straight direction, we will reach the end of it." He explained. His cold muscles complained as he stood up. "I have been following Starclan for many moons to get this far... that I've met you means this is the right way."

Marshpaw tried to make his words sound encouraging. He stepped around the tom to begin leading the way but paused to make sure he was being followed.
"So, you know how I ended up here... but how did you?" He asked his gaze watching the tom with interest. "Thunderclan isn't the type to drive cats away." He could remember other cats complaining about how easy-going Thunderclan was. All too willing to take in strays and rogues... he shuddered as it brought the disturbing thought to mind that his own clan did not.  "I cannot wait to be back with my clan." He added softly, his amber eyes seeming to brighten with fondness.  "I can't wait to see my sisters and mother again. I'll even settle for hearing the stories from elders again, even if I have to be clearing moss. I wonder how many moons I'll be doing that for." Marshpaw's steps seemed to lighten with the memory. "Hunting well and being able to share it with my clanmates. Being warm despite leafbare in the comfort of a strong den without twolegs and that disgusting pellet food, and know that the medicine cat will be there for you." He paused, his eyes flashed down guiltily towards the snow. "Sorry... I got a little carried away there." He looked up at the tom following him. "You never did tell me your name."

The tabby suppressed a snort of laughter as Marshpaw mentioned Starclan. This cat had been away from the clans for how long, was stolen by twolegs, and he still had belief in the fluff that forest cats taught their kits. His mother had been one of those fools too, but now she was gone for good. When he had gone to highstones, no one had met them there. Wolffang hadn't risen from the grave with wise words of advice as so many of the other apprentices had claimed. The fact their paths had crossed was mere coincidence and nothing more. His amber eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced skeptically over at the cat he was supposed to travel back to the clans with. Other than that fact, Marshpaw seemed decent. There was no reason to think otherwise... yet. Coyotefang flicked his ear and padded on after while half-listening.

A bit to his surprise, and a bit of dismay, Marshpaw chattered on with his reminiscent stories of clan life. It was again strange to find himself near agreeing with the Shadowclan cat, almost. Sure, there were something he missed but there was no way the warrior would ever express it so emotionally. This reminded him a lot of Leafstorm. The corner of his mouth just barely twitched as he remembered the older warrior that had taught him. Despite Coyotefang's disinterest in anything related to clan life, and his much more obvious dislike of his mentor's mate, Leafstorm had been a kind and patient mentor. Him and Leopardclaw had both attempted to act as some sort of father figure to him after Reno's death. It was a bit obnoxious to some degree, but Leopardclaw was less obvious, and they both had good intentions. It had never occurred to him how much Blizzardstar and Leafstorm were alike... if he allowed himself to value the idea of parental figures, they would be the ones to fit the role.

After a moment of not saying anything, Coyotefang realized how lost in his thoughts he had become and his ears heated up a bit. He quickly realized the other tom was awaiting an answer. With a grunt he finally spoke again, "It's fine. My name is Coyotefang." He considered for a brief moment how much to share with Marshpaw about the nature of his departure from Thunderclan. If he were to be completely honest, his credibility as a warrior would be lost. As little as that mattered to him, it had matter a lot to Wolffang that he become the warrior she never had. At some point, it had become second nature to strive to do so. With a flick of his tail, he muttered, "I was taken by a rogue group at the twolegplace border. It took a while to get away."

Marshpaw hid his amusement as the younger cat seemed to lose himself. He didn't comment on it, but tilted his head in acknowledgement.
"Well then, It's nice to meet you Coyotefang of Thunderclan." He replied, hiding his surprise. A warrior... how many moons had he missed? He lamented the thought as it lingered. If he had been with his clan, he'd have been young when he was named a warrior. Here he was, moons older and still not honoured the rank. His eyes narrowed at the mention of a rogue group taking the poor cat away. They must have been strong, a fully trained warrior would be a hard enemy to beat. His gaze flicked over Coyotefang's body, a little suspicious about the lack of wounds... but it wasn't his place to question him about it. Instead, he turned to carry on leading the way confidently. The twoleg places looking more derelict as they walked.

"They must be a dangerous group." He said slowly as he thought about how to deal with them if they encountered them at the border. "They won't take both of us." He growled, his ears flattening and eyes glinting in determination. His tail lifting in confidence despite there being technically lost. "It's a shame rogue are usually such lawless groups." He admitted slowly as he looked towards the weathered fences that they had been passing. "I've met a few that could have been great warriors if they weren't so concerned only for themselves." Marshpaw pushed forward through the snow and jumped over a small dip in the road beneath them. The road getting more uneven... it could only mean one thing.

He picked up his pace a little. His eyes scanning the edges of fences for the end of them, for the forest that surely must be nearby. He glanced back to make sure Coyotefang was close and tried to ignore the sudden worry that made his stomach clench. It had been a little while since he had fought. For moons, he had been laid up in the twolegs den. He grimaced as he realised his pelt probably smelled of their fire and nest. The snow might have washed away some of the scents, but he'd have to wash up well to hide the scents, and maybe hide Coyotefang's scent as well. Being with another warrior was comforting though, and he couldn't help wanting to stay close after all that time alone. He could save his sense of rivalry with Thunderclan until then.

When the road turned off course, he paused and looked at the peeling fence. It wasn't as well looked after as the rest of the twoleg dens. He looked around with caution, taking in places where the boards were leaning. He realised immediately it wasn't safe to jump on. Marshpaw stepped towards the fence, using his claws to hook and pull on the boards until he found a loose one that he pulled sideways until it he heard the wood crack sharply. He looked up to check that it had become caught by another board before taking the first careful steps through. Even though Coyotefang was a warrior, he was still older. Twoleg places had slowly become familiar to him over his travels, there was no sense in letting the young warrior get hurt first. Especially if he had been wounded by rogues once before.
"Doesn't look like even the twolegs live out this far." He muttered as he quickly led the way through the dilapidated yard.

Coyotefang almost let out a growl. What was the draw with being such a great warrior? His mother, who had even left her own clan, or maybe gotten chased out, he had no clue, but she was obsessed with the concept as well. In all of the tales growing up, the incredible warriors of the forest had been praised. He too had once looked up to the cats who seemed as formidable as lions in the stories. But, he had meet them and become wiser. They weren't the honorable warriors they claimed to be. Cats like Specklefang roamed the forest under the pretense they were defending the clan, when in reality she was just as close to Reno as he had ever seen another. Warriors threw themselves into fights on a whim, and followed their leaders and starry cats without thoughts. There was nothing great about them. He had seen, on rare occasions, rogues with more honor. Like the group he had just been with.

The tabby managed not to say anything as he followed after Marshpaw, allowing the older cat to lead. He had never been a leader and that was not about to change now. It felt strange padding away from the den that he had called home for the past month, but there was a prickle of excitement in his stomach. Coyotefang hated almost everything he was going back to, the life of the clans and the cats that comprised them, yet he couldn't shake away feelings for what he had almost always known. A few things lay waiting for him back at camp. Not many, but at least a few. More than anything, he constantly tried to keep his distance from other cats. Thunderclanners made that hard. He could not help the loose bonds of attachment he had gotten since his time joining them as just under an apprentice aged kit.

"Looks like it." He muttered lowly. It took a moment, but the tom quickly realized they were heading back from around where he had come. This place couldn't be too far from the forest. It made sense that the abandoned dens would probably be closer to where the clans made their home. Coyotefang picked up pace a little to match Marshpaw's stride. If anything, they would need to avoid the cats he'd been with. They would be rather quick to make this a painful journey. After a moment, he let out a sharp meow, "We have to go to the left. That direction should lead us away from the heart of Old Twolegplace."

The larger dark tabby made his way quickly through the debris and the hole on the other side. He paused at Coyotefang's words and turned in the direction he spoke of without question.
"You've wandered these streets longer then I have." He conceded, stepping aside so that if the younger cat wanted he could go ahead and take the lead. All twoleg places were different, and Marshpaw watched every old nest they passed with a cautious eye. He turned that eye on Coyotefang when he saw the twoleg nests becoming further apart again. Overgrown hedges frosted with snow draped over the street, their appearance startled some starving crows into flight. He looked up to watch them with a shivering sigh.

"This is quite a leaf-bare. I'm not sure if it's because I was a kit during my last one... but it sure feels colder." He observed, "Last time I was this cold, my sisters and I had run away from camp." Marshpaw chuckled at the memory. He recalled how he had hated the feel of frozen marsh between his tiny paws. How long it had taken them to reach the tall pine. "We were sneaking out to find our father... we were caught by Thrushstar of all cats. I wouldn't be surprised if he made us wait for an extra moon after that." He chuckled as he pressed between two long frozen cattails.

He looked at Coyotefang curiously.
"Is there anyone you're eager to see again?" He struggled to keep his tone neutral as he asked. He didn't want the young warrior to think he'd use that information against him later. Even though they were of different clans, he had more decency than that.

The tabby warrior picked his way through the decay that littered the ground. His pace quickened slightly as they moved away from the heart of Old Twolegplace. If there was one thing he missed about the forest, it was the beauty and nature of the whole scene. Twolegs seemed to only build places that ended up rotted and filled with filth. It reminded him far too much of the city. Ever sine he had first come here, it had been his least favorite thing. He kept telling himself that ultimately it was what was driving him back to Thunderclan territory.

He realized Marshpaw was speaking again and cast a glance back over his shoulder. As a chill ran down his spine, the tom found himself nodding slightly in a stiff agreement. It sure was cold out. Back in the warrior's den, with all the clan's pelt pressed together, the frigid weather would have been held more at bay. Out here, there was no shelter from it. But, in order to get back, they needed to press on. Once more, his travel acquaintance was launching into another tale of his kithood. Coyotefang wanted to roll his eyes, but he stopped himself. Marshpaw sure valued his clan and family. How disappointed he would be when they returned... the forest was just as it had always been. He would have been better off hiding off in a kittypet's den than relying on the warriors of Shadowclan.

He managed a soft bit of laughter, assuming that was what Marshpaw wanted from the tale. There was no point in driving off the only other cat who might have an idea of how to navigate the forest.

"My mentor I suppose. I don't have much family within the clan." His response was short as he was busy with making sure they stayed on track.

Coyotefang's amber eyes scanned the horizon for some break in the grey and brown tones of the broken down nests. It was a bit difficult to tell with the flurries of snow that still fell from the sky, but he could just barely make out some leaf-less trees in the distance. He flicked his tail to Marshpaw, making his way delicately over a few splintered boards in their path. There was no doubt that territory was ahead, most likely Skyclan's. They would have to pad along the borders in order to return to their respective territories.

Coyotefang stopped for a moment as he thought. It had been so long for the other cat, and he had been fairly young before leaving, that is was doubtful he could find his way back home easily. The Thunderclan warrior found himself hesitating as, for once, he considered the well being of another cat. What is wrong with me? Internally berating himself, the tom bit his own lip for a moment before meowing, "I'll accompany you back. Even Shadowclan wouldn't be impulsive enough to attack another clan cat helping to return one of their own?" He had seen stupider from the clans, and maybe he was just as dumb to assuming so, but there was always the possibility.

Marshpaw smiled when Coyotefang laughed, soft as it was. He turned his amber gaze at the dilapidated fencing that was slowly parting to reveal forest. True forest. Marshpaw's eyes brightened at the sight. His jaws parted to take in the full scent of woodland. Of being out of twoleg place... of home. Though he was unable to tell for sure, he couldn't help but feel like this was familiar. Like he'd glanced it once before in a memory he had tried so hard to forget. The trauma of his capture by twolegs was strong. Even if his last one had been friendly... he remembered the uncomfortable wire cage that had trapped him. The darkness of it, the bleakness of the monster he had been thrown into.

Like they hadn't cared if he survived at all. The memory caused his fur to lift, he shook it vigorously to derail his thoughts. No. He wasn't in that cage, not in the monster. He was home. The ache in his back leg throbbed, it helped to ground him as he looked at Coyotefang with a small smile again.
"I would appreciate that." He responded softly. "I'm tired of being alone." He let his weariness show in his voice then. The relief both rejuvenated and drained him. Once he was home, all he wanted was to curl up in the apprentice den once more. Share tongues and catch up on everything he had missed. He brushed his tail across Coyotefang's as a gesture of comfort. Taking reassurance in the young warrior's conscience to guide him home instead of simply leaving him.

That would have been easy. Starclan had guided him here so far, but now he knew it would be up to him. His warrior ancestors did not need to feed his every step, though he held a deep gratitude to them. A deep respect that wouldn't be easily shaken, that carried to his bones as they walked on. He looked up and caught a clear view of the stars, his eyes flickered in relief.
"Thank you, Starclan." He murmured gratefully.