Chapter Nineteen

“Hey Dusk, can I ask you a quick question?” Mewled Whistle beneath her breath. Walking beside the blood red tom while they remained in the center of their group, the smaller tabby flicked her gaze nervously at their surroundings. The moment they had up and left the twolegs nest, and favored the forest on the eastern section of the land, Whistle grew a bit nervous. The reassurance from her older brother didn’t help matters much. This didn’t go unnoticed from Dusk who looked at her with a bit of concern.

“This is rather strange coming from you, Whistle.” He answered. There was no teasing in his voice. Picking up the cues that she was uncomfortable walking in such cramped spaces, he didn’t blame her. The shadows that covered some parts, felt like he was being watched. Every now and again, he could’ve sworn he saw a pair of yellow eyes peering back at him from all sides. Even though it was still noon and the weather was hot, Dusk felt uncomfortably cold. “What’s on your mind, little sister?”

“I don’t like the feeling of being cramped up here. There’s barely any room to breathe, sort of, and running might look awkward if we need to run. Why did Sparrowflint have us travel through a forest rather than the open meadows?” Dusk knew the answer, but would rather not tell anyone, especially Whistle; what was truly going on until the moment was right.

‘This feels very familiar for some reason.’ Dusk thought as he inwardly grimaced. “Sparrowflint has his reasons. I wouldn’t go as far to say it would be the appropriate place to travel through, but at least here we can hear what’s coming to us. You might have noticed, but there are so many dead leaves and sticks on the ground. It would be weird if we didn’t hear any enemies ambushing us.

Trust in Sparrowflint as you trust me, okay?” Dusk finished with a light smile. 

However, Whistle didn’t find that very comforting. She knew something was up, and she didn’t like it one bit. “Yeah right. Trust my older brother? I trust a minnow leading me to a small pool to bathe in rather than a cat who trips over his own paws when trying to catch a dove hopping on the ground.” Peeking at Dusk with one eye while smiling brightly, the young tabby could see the blush deepening on her brother’s cheeks. It just made his fur a shade darker than it was.

“That was one time that I felt cheated.” He slightly hissed beneath his breath, while Whistle snorted a little and rolled her eyes. “That dove was taunting me and made me desperate. It knew I had it in my paws.”

“Sure, sure. And I’m a medicine cat pretending to be a small mouse.” Whistle retorted back. Grunting in mirth as Dusk nudged her playfully, the two of them continued their rough play as the group continued to walk. It was a long moment before Dusk suddenly felt his instincts kick in. 

Ears suddenly perking up high on his head, whiskers and nose twitching as he caught unfamiliar scents lurking around them, Dusk suddenly came to a stop. It was a bluish red tabby who noticed his pause. 

“Dusk?” She mewled in question, to which Dusk shortly nodded his head. Knowing what signals were being given, from learning from him, the tabby gave a short soft yowl to the rest of them. Instinctively, kits that had been walking alongside the group were suddenly; yet gently, grabbed by the older cats before placed in the middle. Pushing their bodies together in a tight circle and hunching their bodies low, they waited patiently for whoever was stalking them. 

Listening carefully with his ears straining forward, Dusk calmly kept scanning the forest around them, searching out for anything missed. And then he heard it. It was the sound of heavy panting, coming from a bunch of bushes to his right; angled slightly behind him within his blindspot. Crouching low to the ground, so that the leaves rubbed against his stomach, the blood-red tom slowly started to circle around; making sure to keep his body in front of the others in case of an attack. 

Whistle wanted to break formation and back her brother, but she knew well enough how strong Dusk was. She’d seen him tackle a large crow to the ground with barely a sweat made or a whisker bent. ‘He always was a show off.’ She thought proudly while keeping some kits from trying to move through her legs as she was squashed between the grayish red tabby and Sparrowflint.

With practiced ease, and a face that was set in a focused gaze, Dusk leaped soundlessly into the bushes where the sounds of yowling and a bit of shrieking started to burst outwards. Leaves and branches being snapped and rattled during the struggle within, caused a large amount of leaves to float towards the ground. It didn’t take long before a large pudgy light silver tom came running out, tail slightly tucked between his hind-legs, and his face full of terror as he slid across the ground on his paws to a complete stop. Fur raised in the flight or fight response, the tomcat darted his eyes towards the group of cats in front of him before hearing the sound of Dusk emerging behind him from the bushes. Which caused him to sharply turn around and began backing away slowly in a slow arc.

“P-please, s-sir, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble to you and your friends.” The tom spluttered as he looked to be on the verge of tears. “I-I was just on a hunting patrol and got separated from my clanmates. I-I’m sure that you’ll under-Bloodpaw?” Canting his head to the side a bit, the light silver tom was confused as to what he was seeing before his eyes.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” Mewled Dusk as a light scowl crossed his face in reflected confusion. “How do you know that name? Also, my name isn’t Bloodpaw. It’s  Dusk.”

“Don’t you remember me? Graypaw? We were once clanmates, right? You can’t tell me that you’ve forgotten about Shadowclan? Creampaw? Pinebolt? All the others?” When Dusk made no move to acknowledge any of those names, Graystrike stumbled back a little; a grimace of a shadow shrouding his face as he couldn’t believe what he was seeing before him. “No, this isn’t right. There’s no way that Bloodpaw would forget about his friends he left behind. You, what happened to the Bloodpaw that didn’t let things get to him?”

“.....Bloodpaw is dead. He had lived a life full of lies and secrets that no one could even think about telling him. Secrets and lies he had to realize. Things that tore him up after realizing that the clan that supposedly loved him, was nothing but a pity group for a kit that had no parents to speak of. A kit that was going to be struck down, helpless, by his own mentor.” The coldness that left his mouth, the venom that poured into his words, would have frightened the old Bloodpaw. But Dusk wasn’t like his former self.  This Dusk was now stronger both in spirit and mind.

The flashes of his former self, his old clanmates? They were nothing but blurred images in his mind now. He had blocked out that past completely and for good. So, for this tomcat in front of him to try and make him remember all that pain? It was not going to happen. He wouldn’t allow it to happen. “I think you better head back to your clan. You’re only endangering my group here with your presence, and don’t let me catch you in sight.

Next time, I won’t be so respectful. Especially when it comes to protecting helpless kits.”

Looking into his eyes, Graystrike felt and saw, with a heavy heart, that the Bloodpaw he knew; definitely no longer existed. Ears drooping a bit knowing this was  not the reunion he expected to have, Graystrike slowly trotted away. But as he passed Dusk, shadows shrouding his eyes, he spoke with a low growl to Dusk. “She misses you, you know. Even though she’s entirely mated to Sagebrush, she misses you like nothing.”

Dusk didn’t acknowledge whether Graystrike was telling the truth or not. He just stood there with hardly an expression. Old emotions tried bubbling back up to the surface beneath his skin. He could feel his old self trying to resurface, but he pushed it deep down into the recesses of his mind. Once the scent of Graystrike was fully gone, was when Dusk allowed himself to release a slow breath of relief. Any further conversation, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Is everything alright, Dusk?” Mewled Sparrowflint as Dusk loped over to them. “Old companion of yours, I suppose?” 

“I don’t really wanna talk about it, Sparrowflint.” Chuckled Dusk in a light way. Sparrowflint noticed that his eyes didn’t match that chuckle. There were ghosts lingering in that gaze. Old wounds that had almost been reopened but promptly stopped. Moreover, he noticed how cold and defensive Dusk had become once that silver tom started speaking. Unfortunately, it was not his place to ask what was going on. A cat shouldn’t talk about their past if they weren’t comfortable with speaking about it. That’s the one thing he held to his heart with everyone in the group. Each one of them had a dark past trauma that none wished to speak about.

It was better that way.  “Well, we should continue moving on then.” The old tom said with a low smile. “Don’t want to be out in these woods when the sun goes down.” It was a lame attempt to try and brighten the mood, although it kind of worked as every cat kind of chuckled lightly before moving forward again. Leading the group, Sparrowflint took a glance back; noticing Whistle and Dusk speaking with each other. ‘If there’s one thing that I know, Whistle is probably the only one he’s comfortable with sharing past experiences.

Someday, Dusk, you’ll understand why you and Whistle are connected.’ With a grim smile, the old tom pushed onwards with the rest of them.