The Forgotten Fire

Chapter 5:

  "Don't worry, I'll be able to watch her just fine."
"Are you sure? She can be a bit of a pawful."
"I've managed all four of them at once before."
"But that was in camp."
"Please, Brindleface, I'd really like to get to know Sandkit better. I'm only going out to collect moss, so I won't be far from camp, and I know I can handle her."
"Well, okay, but be careful, please!"
The conversation from that morning rang in Firepaw's ears. She had been lucky to sway the queen; if Redtail had been in camp and not on a patrol she would have never been allowed to treat her sister. Not long after the pale ginger kit had been born had life shifted. Redtail focused his attention and love on the daughter of his mate, and not his eldest daughter. He was protective over the kit and rather obviously did not entirely trust any cat other than Brindleface with the precious furball.
Firepaw shrugged off the alteration in her father's affection with the fact that Sandkit was still just a kit. The apprentice remembered when she had been a kit and even a young apprentice, and assumed once Sandkit aged their father's treatment of them would equal out. Instead of feeling bad, Firepaw tried to focus the energy on being close to her little sister. So far, so good. And today was a special circumstance, Firepaw getting to let the kit see beyond the camp walls before she was technically old enough.
"This is so amazing!" Sandkit squeaked excitedly.
Firepaw purred, "And we're not even that far from camp yet." She looked down at the small pile of moss in front of her, pawed it and then said, "But perhaps I could take you farther out. There doesn't seem to be much moss to collect around here and I can't come back to camp with so little."
The she-kit's light green eyes widened and she stood as tall as she could, "Go farther, really?"
Firepaw flicked an ear, "Are you brave enough?" She issued the challenge light-heartedly.
Sandkit nodded furiously, "Of course, I'm the bravest warrior in the forest!"
The elder sister's fluffy ginger tail swished and she picked up her small pile of moss, mumbling around it, "Follow me then."
Firepaw kept a close watch on her sister while they trotted away from the camp. The kit marveled at their territory, sometimes shrinking down or pushing near her half-sister when frightened by things she had never been faced with before. The apprentice also noticed a few leaves were beginning to fade from their green color and that the breeze carried a light chill. Shortly before stumbling upon moss-covered trees Firepaw wondered about getting Sandkit back into camp. She had carried her out of the ravine, but would be unable to with a mouth full of moss. She figured the journey down would not be as difficult for the kit, but also considered balling the moss and rolling it down the ravine, then following after it while carrying Sandkit.
"You think you can be an apprentice, right, well why don't you help me with some of this moss?" Firepaw meowed after placing her petite pile on the ground. She then began clawing at the base of the tree.
"Okay!" Sandkit enthusiastically replied. She threw herself at the tree and clawed viciously for several heartbeats, but her interest was quickly lost. A butterfly fluttered by and the kit was after it without a thought.
Firepaw was warmed by her sister; she loved her kin more than the other kits. And watching Sandkit brought back memories of when she was Firekit. Both Redtail's daughter, both born with a litter of Robinwing's, both vivacious she-cats. For a few moments she lost herself in nostalgia and the rhythmic teasing out of the moss. A light thump brought her attention back to where she was and what she was doing; she was aware of Sandkit nearby, though just out of sight behind a tree. Confident in the situation, Firepaw took a moment to bad to a nearby puddle and lap up some water.
When she returned to her position, now with a decent pile of moss, all seemed well as she set up to pluck more greenery from the bark. But after a moment, the apprentice realized she could not hear her sister. Suddenly alert, she got to all paws and scented the air, there was no trace of her sister nearby. Panic flared inside of her, her long furs stood on end.
"Sandkit?" Firepaw cried out, "Sandkit!" How far could she have gotten in a moment's absence? At least, Firepaw hadn't felt like she had been away for too long. Regardless, she caught a scent trail from her sister and raced along it.
Thoughts rushed in Firepaw's mind. There was so much that could happen to a kit alone in the forest, but at the same time, what were the odds that anything had happened to her? Surely Sandkit had merely wandered off in some sort of great kit adventure.
A sound pierced Firepaw's thoughts. It was shrill, a shriek, the very opposite of Sandkit's excited squeaks and squeals.
Heart racing, Firepaw ran harder, using the extra force her hindlegs contained to her best ability. What she had been praised for in training was being put to use in one of the most important ways. As far as Firepaw was concerned, this was more important than any border quarrel, this could be life or death for her young kin.
As the scent trail, tainted with fear, led to a bush, Firepaw glimpsed fur the color of her father's bushy tail. Claws ripping at the grassy ground, the apprentice hauled herself near the predator and caterwauled, "Leave my sister alone!"
Faster than ever before, she bunched her muscles and released as much energy as she could, launching herself at the fox. She landed against the creature's body, sinking her claws into its skin and her teeth into its shoulder. She had managed to knock it off its paws for a moment and send pain along its body, but the fox was not ready to give up. It grabbed at Firepaw, getting hold of her hindleg, and swinging its head as hard as it could.
Firepaw was ripped from the fox and found herself flying through the air, terrible pain stemming from her leg. She landed with a rough thud and the breath knocked out of her. On top of that, the pain was so bad it seemed to ring in her mind, it pulled her from consciousness. She was last aware of a she-cat screeching and the presence of deceased warriors.