Tell the World; I'm Coming Home

Mothpaw was freezing in the cold, even with her longer dark fur. She could only imagine what it was like for Silentpaw, with lighter, shorter fur. They were both injured and tired, but they were almost home. They had to press on, they couldn't give up now! She had never wanted to be in trouble before, but she wanted to apologize to her father, and wanted to hear him lecture her and tell her what her punishment would be for sneaking out in the first place, just to see him and hear his voice.

A thud sounded from nearby, and she looked to her sister with worry, finding that she had fallen to the ground. Mothpaw made her way to her side, pressing her nose into her sister's fur. "Silentpaw! We're gonna get home... I promise." She wasn't sure how, not anymore. But they would get there eventually, she believed that. If she was honest, she was mostly saying it to convince herself at this point.

The heavy snowfall felt like it had taken moons to subside. Several patrols had been forced to return early from their rounds of the territory. Those who had not come back initially had already been found and were thawing out within the confines of camp. Burntpaw had been taking care of the elders on this particular day and missed most of the hustle as everyone fleed back to their dens. But now that the wind had died down and the flakes that fell were more occasional, the long-furred apprentice was devoted to trekking through the territory in an attempt to drag any kind of hidden prey from its nest. Each step was more laborious than normal but the straining of his muscles was a welcome feeling. He loved the burning sensation that ran through him and strengthened him. Each passing day the tom stood a little taller, a little stronger. It was about time he was named a full warrior of Shadowclan.

Even with his reservations and personal disdain towards many things that he had studied about the warrior code and the ancestors, his devotion to the cats who had become like kin within the clan was unwavering. Rejection of certain ideas did not change his unadulterated passion for guarding those he cared for. There were definitely misguided cats throughout the clan, as there were throughout the forest, but that did not change his dedication to the code he had sworn to live by. Burntpaw mulled over how that would have to change eventually but the thought was abandoned in favor of focusing on his endeavor. The snow weighted down his long, silky calico fur and only made moving onward increasingly more challenging. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he leaped forward another distance, hoping to cover the territory at a quicker pace. As he landed, a flutter of movement caused his head to snap upwards.

As his eyes adjusted, Burntpaw began to make out the form of a cat. It was a stark contrast to the snow, pure black. And then the snow next to it moved. His pace increased dramatically as he loped towards the pair of cats. They came into view and as he realized who it was his eyes widened. Could it be? Glancing between the pair of she-cats he only paused for a split second before racing to Silentpaw's side. Through his own thick coating, he could feel how cold she was. Mothpaw's pelt was thicker, more adept, like his. The little kit he had once spoken to was larger now, physically, but as she stared up into the sky looked smaller than ever. He rasped his tongue over her coat as he spoke in another attempt to stave off the blistering cold, "It's alright, you're okay. We're going to get you back to camp where it is warm." His head turned to locate Mothpaw and he called her over, "I'll carry her. We need to go now. Morningpaw will treat you with everything she has. It is great to see you both."

Concern showed in the depths of his eyes, causing any thoughts of clan life to flee. What mattered was getting her, them, home safely. It had been far too long already. Burntpaw crouched down and flattened his underbelly to the snow. His teeth tugged as gently as he could on her scruff as the tom moved her to his back. Once she was bad touch over, he nodded to Mothpaw, and set out to retrace the tracks he had just created against the snowy earth.

Despite her desperate hope that this was real and someone really had come to their rescue, it took Mothpaw a moment to accept that the cat before her wasn't an illusion. Somewhere in the back of her mind, past the fear and the cold and the worry, she hesitated to entrust her sister's safety to a cat she barely knew. But in that moment, she was too weak to carry her herself, and too weak even to protest, really. All she could do was nod to a cat that was no longer looking in her direction, and follow as closely as she could manage.

They were almost home. They weren't alone anymore, that was the important thing. They would make it there, and everything would be fine, and that wasn't just a lie she had to tell herself to keep going anymore.