It was much colder the next morning and immediately, Adderheart could tell.
It was like someone had let a blanket of complete and utter chilliness fall upon them in the early hours of the day, where only a few dared stay awake — and those would likely only be the guards of the camp. Perhaps a cat or two would wake from their slumber in the apprentice's den from a terrifying dream, or a warrior would rise quietly for a late-night hunting trip, but generally, SageClan was asleep.
Even Cougarstar, who seemed to always be up to always watch his Clan and be sure that nothing was wrong, was asleep.
The cold that settled upon them was biting, almost sharp-tongued if it could speak. Yet, for some, it did speak, though not in a language they could understand. It whistled furiously through the air, dropping chilly gusts of wind around the pine-tree littered territory. It howled softly. If it spoke too loudly, it would wake leaf-fall far too early. It was reminiscent of a leaf-bare's mildest day, yet compared to the rather warm days they'd been having during greenleaf, it wasn't pleasant for cats with shorter fur.
Adderheart's own paleish, creamy-brown pelt wasn't necessarily too short, and not necessarily too long, yet he still preferred the warmth of greenleaf and late newleaf compared to the biting chill of leaf-fall and the even colder nip of leaf-bare.
Though as the cats began to wake up, the coldness soon morphed into more of a crisper feeling, one that swiftly and briskly twirled around the camp for a moment before skittering away. Leaf-bare would be enraged if it heard that leaf-fall was coming far too early. At least, that's what most of the cats in SageClan believed.
Most of them didn't mind leaf-fall too much, but leaf-bare was usually a hard few moons for the Clan. Of course, any Clan would find it difficult to survive when it was simply so mind-numbingly cold. Yet, SageClan seemed to have it the hardest out of any of the cats around.
It was a well-known fact that there were some loners and rogues that skirted the territory occasionally, and yet no matter how hard the Clan tried, it seemed almost impossible to fully rid themselves of the nasty little rogues that would dart in and out and never stop teasing warriors at the borders. As far as Adderheart could recall, there had been no official fights between them, and hardly any skirmishes for that matter – besides Juniperflight's incident. Hardly anyone spoke of that mishap.
Though, it had also been common to hear of tensions rising every few moons, particularly when it was getting closer to leaf-fall and leaf-bare. That's precisely how Juniperflight had died. The loners and rogues could survive the chillier months. They could travel as far as they wanted to try and get away from the cold. But some did not. Some stayed and bothered SageClan regardless.
Which was why most of the cats now seemed on edge about the loners. Most prayed that they'd finally be left alone, that they'd have one season pass without being bothered by the annoying loners or rogues, but the likelihood of that was low. It hadn't ever happened in the past; what would cause the loners and rogues to do so now? It was always a conversation topic that practically anyone could bring up and get immediate answers.
Adderheart managed to sit down outside of the warrior's den after pushing past the thorny entrance, a shiver trailing an icy claw down his spine. He rose to his paws, shaking out his fur — almost as if it would make him warmer — and he trotted carefully toward the fresh-kill pile.
On the top lay a mouse and a shrew, each of which had a light frost coating their pale brownish fur. The tom took the shrew and he shuffled over to the spot that he'd been in last night, settling down and curling his tail tightly around himself. He let his paw rest upon the shrew's form, hoping the frost would dissipate soon as he took the first bite of the shrew.
It had a strange tanginess to it — like someone had injected some sort of chilly liquid into its chunky, stringy meat. But, overall, it had a decent taste to it, and so the lean tom took another bite, this time chewing quicker. Soon it was simply a pile of bones, and despite the weird taste, it left upon the pale-furred warrior's tongue and in his mouth, he was overall grateful he'd managed to snag something before the pile had emptied, especially considering the chill in the air.
After a few moments, he realized that the rest of the Clan was suffering more than he had been considering the crisp air. Despite the fact that some cats were slowly rising and trotting from their dens, he noticed a white-furred she-cat with dark brownish-ginger dapples.
That was Willowdapple. She was the Clan's queen; the only one who wasn't permanent.
Of course, SageClan had two permanent queens — Tinydust and Sootdawn. The two had never really been given much of a choice regarding their rank, and although Tinydust had more time as a warrior than Sootdawn, their skills had slowly dwindled. Willowdapple tried her hardest to try and assist them if they ever needed help with things like the hunting crouch or a basic fighting stance in case of anything.
The three she-cats were close friends and had a tight-knit friendship that their mates couldn't deny. Except that nobody knew Willowdapple's mate.
And she hadn't told anybody.
If she had, whoever held her secret was trustworthy, since not even Coalbelly knew. She refused to tell a single cat about her secret and she seemed extremely private about her life in general. It was peculiar. Most cats wanted to talk about themselves, to be fawned over and to be loved by others, and their views said that the only way to achieve this was to spill thoughts and opinions till cats thought it was interesting.
Yet, Willowdapple still had rumors floating around her and she was still a fairly mysterious figure within the Clan, and yet still she hadn't shared any information about her life regarding her mate.
Swiftly, Adderheart rose to his paws and trotted toward the she-cat, his tail flickering slightly.
"Are you okay?" He questioned, sharp gaze seemingly softening. Her belly was round with kits, he could tell, as she stumbled a little.
She nodded mutely, letting out a soft cough, "Yes, I'm okay. Just a little cold."
"Go back in the nursery," offered the pale-furred warrior, "I'll get you something to eat."
It would have been rude not to offer to help her.
The she-cat's brown gaze dawned with appreciation as she nodded, turning around and slipping back into the den. The nursery was specially protected from the chilliness, due to the fact that the kits had less of a resistance against the cold. Thorns and brambles were woven tightly into and around the sticks of the walls of the den, creating a warmth that could hardly escape the nursery.
Adderheart, shaking out his brownish-cream pelt once more, turned and trotted toward the fresh-kill pile. Though as he was about to choose the mouse from before, Briargaze, one of the newer warriors, and Brindlebreeze, a she-cat with sharp yellow eyes, bounded into camp. Their pelts were brushed with something alike to excitement as the latter approached the fresh-kill pile.
She triumphantly dropped a thrush upon the pile, followed by a frog from Briargaze. Their tails lashed like flags in the wind as they stared down at their catches. They shared a gleeful look.
"Good catches," mewed Adderheart casually. It was always good to offer a compliment to a cat once and awhile.
"Thanks!" They both practically chirped at the same time, a similar smile stretching across their brightened features as they glanced at each other.
He gave a small smile, a small nod of goodbye forming, and he chose the frog, turning and padding away toward the nursery. The warrior hoped that the queen liked frogs. Some cats of SageClan despised the creatures, no matter how plump they were. The main reason was that they were slimy, which he simply didn't understand. Prey was prey; slimy prey was, yes, admittedly, slimy prey, but prey nonetheless.
Squeezing past the entrance, the warrior laid it in front of Willowdapple, who had settled in her nest. Her belly was round and had a smooth curve as she laid out in the nest, tail still somewhat curling over her back legs.
"Thank you," she murmured, taking a bite of the frog and, ripping off one of its hind legs, she offered it to him. The warrior shook his head, though she nudged it closer, and so he reluctantly took a bite.
"When are you expected to have your litter?" The question wasn't too uncommon for the queen — at least, he assumed so, and soon after, he hoped so.
Her ears twitched, "I haven't seen either of the healers in a bit... I should probably go soon, maybe today, to get some sort of an update. But probably soon, they're pretty active in there."
A warm smile crept upon her muzzle as she gazed down at her belly, features filled with nothing but love for her unborn kits. Soon enough, she turned back to the frog and took another bite, shifting her position slightly.
"I see," murmured the pale-furred warrior, gaze flickering to the frog and then back to the queen.
A silence settled over the den, though it wasn't awkward or strange — instead, it was a comfortable, gentle silence, one that curled gently around Adderheart. It was welcomed and appreciated.
Soon enough, though, the she-cat has finished the frog and had settled down into her nest. He watched as she laid her head upon her paws and placed her tail upon her muzzle. She glanced back up at him and grinned.
Carefully, Adderheart rose to his paws and buried the bones of the frog nearby, giving her a nod, one that was wordless yet kind. He turned to leave.
"Adderheart," she mewed, and he looked over his shoulder, "thank you."
The pale-furred warrior gave a warm smile and a nod soon followed. He slipped from the den.
And as he did so, he realized that the crisp chill to the air had not left. Rather, instead, it had intensified slightly, making the entire camp a tad brisker. Everyone seemed to be a little bit faster than usual, pawsteps swift and easy against the ground, almost as if they wished to escape the minimal chill.
Adderheart decided that it wouldn't be too great to sit around camp much longer. He trotted over toward the camp entrance, dark gray eyes sweeping the area. Maybe he could hunt.
Before he could leave, Streamfang's thick white pelt with the creamy stripes upon her fur appeared from the warrior's den, and after the she-cat had located the older warrior, she charged toward him. He quickly stepped away as to not get slammed into, and she turned, tail bushing up as she stared at him. Her dark amber eyes were two identical blazes of irritation.
"Why did you tell Bearpatch to talk with me—" Her voice was accusatory and somewhat louder than what was likely necessary, though almost as soon as the words had left her mouth did Adderheart leap from his place in the camp and weave straight toward the entrance. Instantly, his breathing lapsed into a steady pace as he swerved to leave the camp.
The tom bolted off and she raced after him, though, with a cry of indignation: "Hey!"
He skidded to a stop after he'd gotten a decent bit from camp, and the russet-pawed she-cat soon stopped after him. She breathed heavily, attempting to get herself under control.
Once she did, Adderheart immediately spoke, "I'm sorry, we just couldn't talk there."
"Yes, we could've!" She answered sharply, shaking out her fur as she glared at him, "Why would you tell Bearpatch to talk to me? I didn't want to do that either, you know!"
He quickly went over her words in his mind, shuffling his paws a little as he rested back on his hind legs. Swiftly, he pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his creamy tail over his paws, letting his head tip a little bit to the side.
"Well, I wasn't meant to say anything about the topic in the first place, and Bearpatch got me to admit that it wasn't prey blood," he answered, struggling to keep his voice even.
She cursed softly, scuffing her paw against the ground, though her fur was still spiked up with vexation.
"I know that, but did you really have to direct it to me?"
Adderheart let his darkened gray eyes travel to her as he stated, "Who else was it meant to be? Birdwish is too young to have been asked to deal with that; it would've been suspicious on my part. Poppyfur... well."
Streamfang's mouth pressed into a straight line and her expression grew guarded within moments, tail flickering back and forth as she settled opposite him.
"But why did I have to deal with it? I know that you weren't supposed to be involved but you could've said you'd show him later."
"That would've been rude to deny him," pointed out the warrior, "and besides, it's no use delaying it. That blood could've been rogues."
Streamfang flinched and immediately he regretted his decision. The she-cat's gaze flitted away, landing upon the ground at her paws. He could almost see the memories of Juniperflight flashing in her mind and he lowered his head, ears pulling tightly to his skull. His tail pulled tighter around his paws.
"I'm sorry."
She rose to her paws, appearing much bigger than how she actually was. Her tail was a lashing bush of fur behind her already puffed-up body. She narrowed her dark amber eyes at him, which was now a minimal simmering bowl of mild irritation.
And, simply, without any more words, the she-cat whipped around and slipped from his vision.
That was a mistake, he thought, guilt crushing him. The pale-furred warrior silently rose to his paws, tail flicking behind him as he let his dark gray eyes head to the sky.
So, since there was nothing else to do, he dashed through the small swath of undergrowth at his paws. It wouldn't hurt to do a little hunting, right?
Adderheart scented the air, dropping his jaws in order to get a better overall profile of the area. Catching cat scent immediately, he gave a soft huff, turning and skimping off.
Soon enough he emerged in a small area where the trees cleared away or rather thinned out, making it less and less woody and making it smell less and less like pines and the pine needles appeared less and less around his paws. He realized that he was near the border yet took no real notice of it. Ears pricked, Adderheart once more thoroughly investigated the area around.
No prey was nearby, although a sharp, metallic tang seemed to constantly hang around the air, almost as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It smelled faintly of prey, though one that Adderheart didn't necessarily recognize right away. Perhaps it was a mouse or even thrush. Those weren't the commonest pieces of prey in SageClan's territory, but it was definitely possible.
The first time that he had tried thrush had been during his apprenticeship. The pale-furred warrior didn't exactly remember how he'd actually gotten to eat it — he only remembered adoring the taste and the texture of the bird — and so he moved on, tail flickering as he scented the air once more.
Whatever was causing the faint scent of blood was gone and with it swept a strong prey-scent, one that was eerily familiar. It smelled slimy, chunky, almost like water, yet with a more earthy tone that was soft and light compared to the blood's edged tang.
Frog.
They were fairly easy to catch, considering that most of them had slow paces regarding walking, and if not, it was easy to spring after them with a leap or two and catch up. Adderheart would admit that sure, although they could be different to actually pin due to their slippery nature, getting to one wasn't that hard.
Which was why he hurriedly skirted off to where he thought the scent was coming from.
It was a small puddle, one with greenish-clear water with algae caking the top. It seemed to have been from a rainstorm long ago, yet instead of going away, it became bigger. Dark gray gaze sweeping the area nearby, the lean tom soon spotted a small, chunky, dark forest-green creature, one with a thick build and a flat head.
If I'm close enough then I should be able to jump and pin it. Definitely hasn't noticed me... so I'm safe to jump.
With a blink, the creamy-brown warrior sprung forward, slamming a paw down on where he presumed the creature was, though it had leaped away just in time. It was a fox length or two away, and so Adderheart let out a soft growl and vaulted after it. His tail lashed behind him wildly like a flag as he managed to get close enough to pin it to the ground.
So he did.
The greenish creature shifted around, squirming for a few moments, eyes wide and bright with a fear that Adderheart would never know.
After successfully making the creature go limp, the thin tom lifted it up gently in his jaws, staring around at the area around him. His dark gray eyes were sharp, glinting in the light of day.
Then, he sprung off into the undergrowth.