An Act of Desperation [Closed/Solo]

Two.

Two kits-- that was how many Addershade had left.

Of eight kits that had been born, by some miracle, five had made it all the way to their warrior ceremonies.

But now there were only two, and only one remained with him in RiverClan.

It was not, in any way, a good situation, having to deal with the knowledge that one of his only remaining family members was in a different clan, that he had no way of regularly protecting her. But in normal times, he’d at least be able to console himself slightly with the idea that he’d see her at gatherings, get to check up on her and how she was doing.

But with Asylum here...he couldn’t see her. He had no idea how she was. What if she had died? What if something had happened with the Asylum in ShadowClan and they’d killed her? What if it wasn’t two, but only one who remained?

As each day went by-- as the Asylum's presence felt more and more permanent-- the more desperate he became to find out how his daughter was doing. Besides...off in ShadowClan, she had no way of knowing that her brother, that Snowflight had-- and someone...someone would have to tell her. It should be him. It had to be him. That had to be his burden to bear.

In his many moons he had fairly danger adverse; he had certainly found his way into trouble a number of times, but he preferred not to seek it out.

Which meant this thing he was about to do, this...this was nothing short of an act of desperation.

It would be a long night, and a long trek to ShadowClan’s camp; and with Asylum cats watching their movements, and watching the borders...he knew the odds were against him.

But the only thing scarier than that journey was not knowing if his daughter was alive or not.

--

Somehow, by some stroke of luck (and perhaps aided by the dark coloring of his pelt and a natural aptitude for moving quietly), he’d made it out of RiverClan’s territory.

But the hard part was far, far from over; he was on unfamiliar ground, now. He’d have to be extra careful; he couldn’t rely on any kind of muscle memory to guide his pawsteps.
Every once and a while he’d spot the moving of a strange pelt or glimmering of an unfamiliar eye, and he’d freeze, hold in his breath, and press himself low against the ground, all while sending up a silent prayer to StarClan that he wouldn’t be caught.

Somehow, so far, it had been working.

But the further he got from home the less sure he got of each pawstep. He made them slowly, watching the ground beneath his feet, terrified of making a misstep and giving himself away.

He realized too late that putting all his concentration on the steps in front of him was a grave mistake.

In his desire to not step on some scattered twig or stone or crunching leaf, he’d let himself forget, for the first time since he was an apprentice, about the slightly awkward length of his tail.

Only after the yelp of pain left his mouth did he realize he’d made a sound.

Points of light seemed to appear out of the dark; pairs upon pairs of unfriendly eyes, all focused in on him.

He’d been spotted.

He ran; he had no idea which direction he was going now, whether it was towards WindClan, ShadowClan, RiverClan, Fourtrees-- for the moment he didn’t care. All he wanted was to be somewhere that wasn’t here; somewhere where he could hide, where he could get away from--

Something-- someone-- crashed into him. Sharp claws pressed up against his side. Breath that was at once warm and cold came pouring in his ear, bearing words, but everything was a blur and he could only barely comprehend them--

”A mistake...you’ll regret…”

He shut his eyes tight, and felt himself being dragged away.