1. The Dogs

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     "C-Cobweb!" cried a voice, sobbing in pain as the sound of bones crunching resounded and hit the ears of the young tom. He clung to the branch, tears falling from his single eye as the bloodshed continued below. The wails of his sister- his sweet, sweet sister- were deafened by the snarls of the two dogs that snapped at her, tearing at her with fangs like gleaming ivory. He was unfazed by his own wolfdog that leaped up at him, barking and howling at him as it attempted repeatedly to snag the branch in its jaws.

     A loud snap crackled like broken branches and the largest of the pack of three held up the limp, bloody body of the young cat Rose, triumphant, and it shook the dead cat ferociously. Cobweb crouched on the branch, choking on his tears as his chest tightened, and he crept back against the body of the old oak tree. His fur was plastered to his sides by the blood that leaked from the wound on his back, droplets of the crimson substance dripping down from his right eye as well, landing on his black paw. And the dog jumped higher and higher until it was only inches from the branch.

     He could take no more.

The young tom hissed weakly at the massive mammal and leaped down from the branch. He landed with a thud, collapsing onto himself, and in his fear and panic stood shakily and dashed into the forest. He refused to stop, black paws pattering against the ground as he ran with tears smearing his whiskers to his face. And he tripped, and tumbled into a large set of brambles where he laid still, staring groggily out into the open and expecting the dog to trot up to him to tear him apart. But it did not come- it was too busy tearing the pelt off of Rose. Too busy lapping at the still warm blood.

     And Cobweb laid still, staring out, vision fading. He had lost so much blood, his right eye torn from him by the claw of the vicious pack-monsters, his side and back bitten into. He was injured, but not quite like Rose. 

     Rose, who had cried out helplessly as her brother watched from the tree, horror stricken and suffering as her flesh was torn from her and devoured while she yet lived. Rose, who had walked faithfully by Cobweb. Who, if she had been sitting on the branch, would have leapt down and attacked the dogs.

     "R-Rose-"

     Cobweb shifted and twitched violently. The event played in his mind over and over, repeating terribly in the form of nightmares.

     And he awoke to the silence, and looked around with his one eye opened, rolling around wildly as he examined the darkness. His pupil widened and he adjusted to the surrounding cave of stone and soft dirt. He could feel himself cushioned on what felt like a soft, yet prickly moss. He lifted his heavy head in fear of what he would see, and found himself in a large den, a gaping entrance revealing the outside of what looked like a large clearing. It was night, the light of the waning moon peeking through the entrance of the den. The den walls were consisted of branches and leaves of shrubbery,  dark green towering over the young cat.

     And his surroundings smelled of herbs- powerful scented plants and other things, making Cobweb crinkle his nose and twitch his whiskers. All was silent, solemn and calm within the den.

     "W-Where am I?" he muttered to himself, and he sat up painfully in the nest and winced as he stretched his side wound. He could feel the stiff spider-webs applied to his injury tug at his skin and he turned his head to look down at the bite. But he could not see from his right eye, thus was unable to examine the wound that was dominantly on his right side. He turned his head to the left and saw only the tiny bit of the bite and the webs applied on his back. The tom groaned in annoyance, flicking his right ear angrily.

     A long shadow was cast along the dirt floor of the den and Cobweb jolted in his fur and bristled his pelt, eye wide. He found himself staring at a large yet frail cat, a tom with long, silvery-grey fur that stuck to his body and hung down like the boughs of a willow tree. The cat's eyes were pale, worn and tired, yet he smiled warmly to Cobweb and twitched his whiskers in amusement.

     "No need to be so frightened of me. I'm not a badger or anything," said the ancient tom in a soft, whispy voice. "My name is Clearwhisker, and yours is?"

     What a strange name- "Clearwhisker?" 

     "C-Cobweb," stammered the white and black tom, whose green eye was laced with both curiosity and fear. The cat before him, Clearwhisker, nodded slowly and kept his smile, and he eyed the loner in the nest. "You were very lucky. Blackear found you in the forest bleeding to death. And that was-" explained Clearwhisker, who paused and stared off into the emptiness in thought. "-two days ago?"

     Cobweb's heart stopped. His ears pinned back, and he shook his head rapidly. "No- No! No! It couldn't have been two days! She couldn't have been dead for two days!" he exclaimed in a panicked state. Clearwhisker at first appeared startled, but walked to Cobweb's side and placed the tip of his feathery tail onto the younger cat's shoulder. "Calm yourself, Cobweb- who else was out there?"

     The dogs didn't follow me- but this cat, this- this "Blackear"- they didn't smell them? Did I really lay out there that long? Bleeding? And Rose- what about Rose? She's dead out there, rotting!- if the dogs didn't eat her!

     The thoughts sent shivers down his spine and he whimpered, breaking down into tears that poured down like a sliver of a waterfall. The images of Rose's broken body danced through his mind in an almost teasing manner, screaming that he could have helped his sister, his only remaining family. He was unable to talk, chest too tight to allow him to even breathe properly.

     "Cobweb. Please- breathe. Don't get too worked up," pleaded Clearwhisker. How could this old cat understand? How could Cobweb calm down about losing his sister?

     "R-Rose," whimpered Cobweb, who trembled in his nest. "My s-sister-"

He closed his eye, gulping down his tears his tears as best as he could manage. But the droplets of salt and water continued no matter how hard he tried to stop them. His sister was dead, and he had never felt so alone or helpless.

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