sage | a warrior cats fanfiction

chapter twenty five

At first, Adderheart was silent.

He watched as Pantherleap's figure disappeared between the swath of trees and pine needles nearby. He heard the tom's pawsteps fade away, blending easily into the background of noises. He kept his dark gray gaze stuck upon the place where the tom had left. He tried to keep his gaze clear. It blurred and tears pricked at the edges of his vision anyway.

Blinking fiercely, he tried to get them away. He didn't move, for now at least. His figure was stone still, rigid and tall, shoulders jutted outward. His pale creamy-brown fur had rose in fear, terror, shame... perhaps all of the negative emotions, instead of just a few. He smoothed it against his lean figure, letting it fall as quickly as it had rose.

And then, as he tried to lift a paw to swipe at his blurring gaze, everything came rushing back.

The complete and total pain of his injuries swept over him like a blazing inferno and he stumbled, mind instantly whirling. His legs ached and his jaw felt as though it had unhinged from his muzzle completely. His tail and haunches were agonized the most, though. He staggered forward once more and he nearly tripped himself. He uprighted himself quickly, shaking out his fur, only to feel a trickle of blood run down his flank.

I can't go back to camp.

He couldn't stop replaying the scene in his mind.

He'd told Pantherleap. He'd somehow managed to push past the overwhelming wall of 'no' to be able to tell someone. And that someone felt the same way...? He regretted it. Everything would be so much harder; they loved each other and they knew that, but nobody else could. They'd have to hide it. The elders popped up within his mind.

At that moment, he truly regretted his very existence.

Adderheart didn't know what to do. He didn't want to go back to camp. That was likely where Pantherleap had gone, back to the medicine cat's den with the healers that didn't understand their relationship, with the cats in the camp that didn't understand what it was like... he'd probably claimed injury. Or he's wandering the territory.

If he didn't claim injury, I should just do that.

It wasn't really a bad option. It wasn't a good one, either. What else could he do, though? He couldn't wander the territory. That was a surefire way to run into Pantherleap again. And really, that was the last thing he wanted. He didn't think he could talk to the tom anytime soon. Going to camp will let me avoid him.

But I've been out for a while. I can't just go back and say 'I was on a walk, don't mind my injuries'.

There wasn't anything else to do, though. He couldn't stay in the forest; Pantherleap would somehow end up finding him and then the whole situation would just be worsened. He couldn't just stand around; that would just make it harder to go back. But he couldn't just go back, right? It would be suspicious. He needed a cover-up.

There were a couple of things he could do.

I can claim I fell off a tree during hunting.

Theoretically, the idea wasn't a bad one. It would be a fairly usual explanation for the reopened cuts upon his pelt, his slightly disheveled look, and he could always claim it as soon as he went back to the healer's den. He wasn't exactly a great climber, and he was sure that some cats had taken notice to it. It seemed foolproof; no major issues had popped up as he'd originally thought of it.

Though, the more he paused to think about it, the plan was a little suspicious. He'd already told the healers he'd gone out to take a walk and spontaneously going to hunt up a tree when he already knew of his issue with climbing, and climbing with injuries... that was rather dumb, and the healers knew he wasn't stupid. He scrapped the idea. Too many issues.