//Un//marked

// chapter 12 //

"Have you ever been to this border?" he asked Lightpaw quietly, marking a wooden slat.

Surprised by his willingness to converse, as the tom generally preferred silence, the tortoiseshell struggled to find a response. "Only once," she finally said.

The black warrior just nodded, continuing on down the white wall. Unsure of what to do, Lightpaw followed. The fellowship of before had disappeared and an awkwardness had descended upon them. Hoping to fill the silence, Lightpaw asked the first thing that came to her mind.

"How often have you been here?"

The tom paused, giving her a confused look. "Enough to know how to lead a patrol to it," he replied after a moment.

The tortoiseshell held his dark gaze, ears burning with embarrassment. Finally, she looked away.

Shademask seemed amused. "I'll mark this side, why don't you go in the other direction? Rowanstorm should meet you on his way back down." Eager to get away from the tension in the air, Lightpaw went on her way.

She had only travelled a couple of treelengths, marking every twenty steps or so, when she heard thud from above her. Moving away from the white wall, she saw a dark figure sitting atop it. The cat was large, with brown tabby markings and big, green eyes.

"You smell like them Clan cats," he said, watching her every move. Lightpaw felt her fur rise.

"Is that a problem?" she hissed back, claws unsheathing.

"Hey now, no need to get defensive," the tom replied, tucking his paws in closer to his body. "Though you did kill a friend of mine just over a half moon ago."

Immediately, images of the frightened tortoiseshell filled Lightpaw's head and the feel of bloodied fur beneath her claws made her paws tingle. She shook herself, unwilling to relive the moment.

"Ah, I see you remember," the tabby observed.

"It's hard not to," Lightpaw admitted, guilt momentarily washing over her. Realizing she had let her guard down, she jumped back into her defensive position. "But that doesn't explain why you're here."

The fat kittypet did not reply, instead lazily letting his eyes travel over her body. He seemed completely at ease, while Lightpaw did not let a muscle twitch.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Lightpaw," she replied. "And you are?"

"Charlie," he purred. "I live just over in that Twoleg den with my friend, Minerva."

What strange names, Lightpaw thought. "Just the two of you?"

Charlie nodded. "Yep. We're not like you Clan cats, or the Junkyard Gang, or the alley cats."

Lightpaw blinked. "There's that many cats living in the Twolegplace?" The tabby nodded affirmation again.

The pale she-cat glanced up and down the white wall, looking for any sign of the other patrol members. Rowanstorm would be somewhere off to the east, while Shademask would be moving west. Thistleshade and Beetlepaw would meet him somewhere halfway.

Suddenly, Lightpaw remembered her conversation with Thistleshade, nearly a quarter moon ago.

"You're not a rebel, are you?" Her defensive position was back, crouched low over her front paws.

The tabby snorted rather loudly. "Who, me? No, never! I have met them, though."

"Wait, here?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

Charlie narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe that is something I should be telling you."