An Unexpected Twist of Events {East Shore} (Closed)

Staying awake through a while night of tumultuous drifting upon an old oak branch down an unfamiliar and dark path was a feat Night of Stormy Gales had never even thought about facing in his lifetime, and yet, there he was.  Unsheathed claws gripping onto rough bark as his body from the torso down grew numb from cold, snow-melt water clearly not helping the situation.  Yet, as was his specialty, he managed to remain calm, logical even.  As the stars had raced past overhead, the pitch-black Tribecat's green eyes had threatened to dull and close, but every time he had been about to doze off he inflicted himself a sharp nip on the paw, flooding him with renewed energy and purpose.  Some cats would've given up and sunk to a watery grave, convinced that their lives were sentenced to doom, but the wisdom of age told him otherwise.  He had survived many trials, and this was just another future story in the making.

Finally, after what felt like the thousandth yawn and at least the hundredth bite, Night felt a jolt as his branch collided with solid land, digging into the muddy bank of what looked like a lake, the large wave instantly expanding it into an exaggerated version of its true form.  Letting go of his sanctuary with a small purr of delirious thanks, the long-limbed exile paddled the last few mouse-lengths until his toes sunk into river murk, a wonderful greeting to the standards of the situation.  Out of the corners of his blurred vision he barely registered the presence of other bodies - alive or dead - on the beach with him, but before he could investigate or attempt to help the tom felt his legs collapse under him, and as soon as his chin hit the pebbles he was sucked into the void of sleep.

---

The glow of the rising sun greeted him as Night's eyes slowly slid open, as if reluctant to let him return to the waking world, but he fought against the urge to rest longer and pulled himself to his paws, jaws cracking in a wide, loud yawn.  Stretching out his back, wincing as his twisted paw touched the ground, the exile took in his surroundings in a proper manner for the first time, eyes roving all angles and directions.  He was on a long, mud-and-pebble shoreline that led up, to his slight surprise, to a small Twolegplace.  His eyes narrowed, trying to catch sight of any pink creatures alert to his presence, but could find none.  The place seemed oddly quiet; no monsters grumbled and the screeching of Twoleg kits was nowhere to be found.  Moving on from the oddity for now, he glanced out across the enlarged lake.  He could see another shoreline, too far away to swim to especially with the heightened water levels, but not far enough to be called unreachable.  The pool was a giant circle after all,  if he wanted to go that way all he would have to do is walk, but at the moment that was an unnecessary task.  Besides, cliffs guarded the other shore on all sides; this side seemed much more navigable.

For a long moment, Night had been so busy finding out whereabouts he was that he hadn't noticed the numerous other cats sprawled across the beach with him...cats he recognized by both scent and face.  So, the clans had gotten swept away as well...  He was too far away to tell which bodies still breathed life, but he only knew that SkyClan cats lay among them.  Was Tinystar taken as well?  Or Mistyrain?  I don't see them...  Indeed, the short-legged 'leader's form was nowhere to be seen amid the wreckage, as well as his kind-hearted deputy.  He did though see Amberdawn, and his former apprentice, Sagepaw.  His old sense of bonds tried to draw him forward, but the exile hung back.  If I wake them...I don't think I could bear hearing their voices, only to eventually have to abandon them again.  SkyClan...the cats within its walls mean everything to me...so I must leave them behind.  I cannot yearn for what I've thrown away...and I don't regret my decision.  I refuse to give myself a reason to.

So, with a heavy heart and a last side-long glance, the blue-blood SkyClanner began his decent up the hill, towards the Twolegplace or forest beyond he had not yet decided.  All he knew though, was that his pelt was wet and dirty, and his stomach growled; a long moon of aimless travel before this new journey had not treated him well.  With a flick of his long, sleek tail, he made his decision and began to pad away from the clans, his fate seemingly sealed.  The flood carried me here...so, my destiny this place must be.

There was a soft groan on the shore, masked among the waves as a young she-cat stood slowly with blearily blinking hazel eyes as she tried to get a grip on her new surroundings. Everything was suddenly different. No more was there the familiar whispers of finches in the bushes, or whisper of wind on holly leaves. Her memories of familiarity were invaded by the lapping of the water at her paws and the crunch of ice and logs. She blinked warily, looking around her, but not seeing any other cats.

The idea of being alone was a thrill... but she couldn't deny the terror that loomed in her gut. She had never been truly alone. Always within reach of the clan... always among the same territory. She padded away from the water with an inquisitive gaze towards the twoleg nests that stood above the ice and water. Their shadows were long with the morning sun as she leapt onto a porch with a curious sniff. Twolegs kept such strange things, why would they have a single plant in such a wierd thing? She pawed at the potted plant with curiousity. Her gaze widening as it sprung back towards her. She turned her attention once more towards the shoreline.

Now that she wasn't cast completely adrift among the thrashing waves, her curiousity took hold. She padded towards what looked like an old hollowed out log. Peering through it with curiousity before she placed a paw on the cold interior. Shavings of old wood parted beneath her claws, yet she wriggled in. Nose twitching with all the intriguing scents. A sudden lurch made her heart leap to her throat as she realised it wasn't as secure as she thought it was. Before she could back out, the log fell forward as she yowled. Water flooded through it, but the majority of it stayed floating amid other logs as she wriggled frantically, unable to dislodge herself and get free of her new confines.

Night's paws touched the warm surface of an abandoned Twoleg path, having decided to set out towards the seemingly empty crowd of wooden structures and stone paths.  He knew that the clan cats would most likely head towards the forest rather than this odd place, and he didn't want to run into any cat he recognized now that he had come to a settled decision concerning the path he would follow.  Sniffing the air cautiously, the jet-black rogue tried to pick up any possible dangerous scents, but besides the fading aroma of Twolegs and their monsters he could pick up nothing but mud and the acrid smell of the floodwaters.  With a flick of his ears, the aging tom continued on, following the main path that between the Twoleg nests, when suddenly he heard a splash.  Whipping around, instantly alert, Night glanced around for the source of the noise and saw - to his utter confusion - a half-sunken log twisting and squirming in a deep puddle, among a crowd of similar debris.  What in the stars...?  Narrowing his eyes, he observed the odd sight for a moment longer, before the realization hit him like a powerful wave.  Oh, fox-dung!  There's a cat trapped in there!  The pale wood-toned tail had at first blended in with its earthy surroundings, but as he dashed towards the stranger he began to clearly see the rest of the cat's hindquarters, having crawled half-way into the log before getting stuck, he guessed.  Skidding to a halt in the murky pool, he hissed to the cat, voice urgent yet comforting; "Hold on, I'll get you out of there!"  Jaw set determinedly, he grabbed on to the half-submerged trunk and began to pull it back towards dry land; luckily, it remained afloat.  Once he was sure the cat's head would be out of reach of the water, he trotted around back to where their tail and haunches were sticking out.  "Okay...this may hurt a bit, but I need you to push back out the way you came.  Ready?"  He grabbed the she-cat's tail in his jaws with a gentle yet firm enough grip to help pull a bit, but also didn't want to risk dislocating her tail by doing all the work.  "On three.  One...two...three!"

Her claws scrabbled against the inside of the tree trunk, leaving huge gouges behind. Water splashed onto her muzzle as she tried to stop her frantic movements. They weren't getting her anywhere, and she had the suspicion that if she just kept going she'd have no more luck than drowning herself. She paused, taking in huge lungfuls of air while she watched what she could from the opening of the log on the other side. Half was murky water, but there was light.

Suddenly, there was a voice as well, muted from the log, she felt the clamp of teeth and cringed. Hopefully, this was a cat who was planning to help her. His grip didn't seem like it was trying to hurt. She tried to slip her back paws to the edge of the log in the hope of offering support in getting herself freed. As they pulled and pushed, she felt the log's bark bite into her pelt as she slid backwards and out, right into the muddy water.

Not that she cared. The moment she was freed, she heaved a huge gasping breath. Her pelt covered in bark and mud, her bright hazel eyes took in the gorgeous sight of sky, and land and no longer drowning with relish. She turned to the cat that had helped her out with a grateful smile.

"THANK YOU! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I thought I was going to die in there!" She meowed in a rush as she padded to shore from the, thank fully shallow, water she had rolled into while inside the log. Her weary paws ached, but as she looked around, there wasn't really anything familiar at all. A fact she would normally be over the moon over, but at the moment, she flopped down in the shore. "Where are we? Are we still in the forest? What happened to everyone else? Have you seen any other cat?" She asked, her voice at least was untired from her ordeal. Her throat was a little raw from the muddy water she had inadvertantly swallowed while being swept away, but it wasn't enough to deter her.

As the she-cat's claws scrabbled against the rough bark, Night pulled on her tail with as much strength as he felt comfortable with; causing accidental injury during a time like this was the last thing he wanted to do, especially since this cat was unfamiliar to him.  Alas though, it seemed their efforts were successful, as the pale calico molly slipped back out the tree the way she came, taking a deep breath as Night let her tail drop from his jaws, purring.  She looked young, with bright hazel eyes, and he could only guess just how she had ended up in this predicament; every option though led him to the brink of laughter.  As she made her thanks to him known, the pitch-black exile dipped his head, before meeting her gaze with a knowing sort of smirk.  "It was no trouble miss...though, I recommend looking before you leap on your next adventure."

As the young molly flopped down on the dry shore, Night lowered himself into a sitting position beside her, taking a moment to clean his paws of the splinters and dirt acquired by pushing the log.  As he worked though, a flurry of questions flew his way, and he paused for a moment to answer them; though, he felt his stomach tense at the mention of 'the forest'.  She must be a clan cat...  "Unfourtanly, I don't know exactly where we are, but I do know that we are a long way from Clan lands."  His tone was carefully aloof, while still remaining friendly; he had encountered enough rogues in his time to impersonate their impartial attitudes.  With a flick of his tail back towards where he had come, he continued; "I awoke alongside many sleeping cats grouped over there, but I do not know their conditions.  I preferred to leave them to their own devices; I know the Clans well, for I have lived alongside them for many moons.  They wouldn't appreciate a rogue sniffing about their business in a time like this."  It felt odd to lie, but he knew it was necessary.  Any possible tiny inkling of thought directed towards re-joining SkyClan had been swept away with the waves, and he doubted any other clan would take him at this point even if he wanted to throw himself back into the camps of fools.  News would've surely spread of his exile at a Gathering...along with many false rumors of his traitorous nature peddled by Tinystar, he presumed.