Saving Sable

Chapter Eleven

{Aquiver}

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"You Can Paint Me Any Colour, And I Can Be Your Clown"
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Aquiver's breathing was quick and heaving. She knew everyone back at SpruceClan camp would be wondering where she was, she was due on a hunting patrol. But she needed time alone.

She had what, five moons before she had to return? Slightly less than that now. And the journey back would take around two moons.

She sighed.

If any cat were to look at her, they would see a cat of beauty. She was slender, regal, and intelligent-looking. It wasn't as if she was attractive, in that respect, she was rather average. It was in the way she held herself. She had an air of royalty, with a somewhat haughty expression and wanderlust present in her eyes. She was an object of interest, a cat who seemed strange. One may look at a cat and say 'cat', but if one looked at Aquiver, the word coming to mind would be 'feline.'

"Five moons, five moons.. I have been wandering for seven moons..." Her voice was quiet, and fear flickered in her copper gaze. She allowed her forbidden thoughts to unleash, like a waterfall, a torrential downpour.

How many are dead now? Who has been killed by the Plague? Acosmist? Sabaism? Moiety?

She began to quiver, in an odd relation to her name's meaning. But it wasn't small shudders, it was full spasms, violent and frenzied.

Inside, she was fighting. Loss of control was threatening to devastate her, she needed to stay.

Think of things that you have learned, you fool, think! As long as you don't lose control, you'll be fine.

Apiphobia is the phobia of bees. Susurrus and Hiraeth, the one who founded the Empire, were mates, however Hiraeth needed to produce an heir, so she had kits with Bisou. Lilies are toxic to us cats. When these primitive Clan cats say twolegs, they mean humans.

Her breath came in hard and fast, trying to resist the blackness that was clawing behind her eyes.

She couldn't surrender to it.

She wasn't contagious, not yet.

At least she hadn't lost control yet.

She had seen what it did to the other cats of the Empire. Their eyes dilated and their class unsheathed. When touched, they were so hot, they burned. Like a fever, but worse.

When touched, they became rabid.

Manic.

Aquiver had seen it herself.

Vulpine had touched one, a gentle paw on their ear. And Etiolate spun, with speed the tom had never possessed before, biting and tearing, and ripping, and clawing....

Aquiver shuddered.

The sight of it was terrible. Vulpine, dear cat, was in shock. They didn't want to fight their friend. Especially as they were from the City of Luminescence. The cats who belonged to that City valued kindness! Vulpine was peaceful, they hated conflict.

Their screams echoed around, and blood created a sticky carpet underfoot.

Aquiver had screamed too. She had gone to jump in. Thankfully Yūgan had held her back. Or she would've been dead too.

She still remembered the exact moment where Etiolate sliced off Vulpine's face, their eyes were blinded, their nose was basically gone too. All there was, was long slices and bloody fur, pieces of skin littered the area. Blood streamed in rivulets from the strips engraved in their skin. It was sickening.

Aquiver remembered the moment Vulpine died. His screams cut out, the torture coming to an end.

But it didn't, not for the bystanders. Etiolate continued to maul the body, not recognising that the cat he had murdered was his best friend.

All that was left was a bloody pulp. And then Etiolate began to eat it.

Aquiver gasped at the memory, vomiting the remainders of the hare she had eaten.

She had watched Etiolate unhinge his jaws, and bite slowly into the soft flesh of his friend. Then he chewed. And swallowed.

The ruins were a mess. Blood was everywhere. So was skin and scraps of brown tabby fur. And a few ginger scraps too.

Intestines hung from what was left of the body, trailing into the ginger tabby's mouth.

Aquiver had run.
Blinded by hot tears, she raced into The City of Hierarchy. Begging the Noctua, begging anyone who would listen, to execute Etiolate.

But of course they didn't.
Aquiver's City, the City of Epiphany, wanted to study him. So they constructed a caged area, and loaded him into one. Now, that area would be overflowing.

Perhaps it was torture, to keep these infected cats alive. But Aquiver understood. They needed them alive to study them.

How was the disease contacted? It wasn't contagious, or everyone would have it.
Was it something eaten? Drunken? Smelt?

Aquiver didn't know. And she had the disease.

But yet, it wasn't full blown.
Perhaps she would be okay?

The shaking subsided. Aquiver's pupils returned to normal size.

She was back in control.

Three moons.

Three moons before she would have to leave.

Five moons before she would be back.
Before she would surrender herself, her mind and her body, to experimentation.

Five last moons for her to be herself. Before her mind became someone else's.