Sootclaw's POV

Silently, I stalked toward the robin. It was pecking at a dying flower, unaware of my unsheathed claws and drooling mouth. Most of our prey went to catching the flesh-cravers, but this time this robin would be eaten by Whitefire and I. Lashing my tail, I leaped heroically onto the unsuspecting bird.

It flapped it's small wings under my grip and squawked in shock just as I lowered my head to give it the killing bite. Snapping it's neck, the robin went limp under my paws. It's leg gave a few last twitches. I only blinked, numb to the situation.

Whitefire and I were alone together. We stayed in a Twoleg's backyard. It was a perfect place to stay because it had silver-mesh fence around us and a small nest to stay in. The nest reeked like dog but there was never one around. The little nest sheltered us from the wind, the rain, and the hot sun. Plus, it had a very comfy purple cushion we could sleep on.

Spottedfire had convinced us - coughing and gagging - to not go back after going on patrol. She used the "we won't survive with that big of a group to feed..." sentence. It worked, obviously, and soon after we all regretted the decision. Turns out, Spottedfire's plan backfired on her. She died two days after our disappearance.

Sometimes I wished we had gone back. I wanted to know how my brother was doing and if he was even alive. Whitefire never talked about Snowfern or Dreamkit, so I refused to bring up my kin. Whitefire and I both were hesitant to Spottedfire's plead, so we could have gone back after her death but we had traveled so far from the willow tree that we couldn't find our way back. Everywhere we looked was continuous steaming rocks and the same glowing ball of fire in the sky.

When Spottedfire died, we left Spottedfire's body where she dropped dead without burying her. Whitefire and I were so numb and lifeless from the rancid air and starvation that we didn't have a care in the world about what happened to her body. I had made a mental note that if I ever saw Wildflower again to not tell her we left her sister's dead body for the infected to chow down on.

Two moons ago we were silent and dying. Whitefire liked to stay in her own mind anyways, but I hated every moment of being quiet. I learned that no matter how much I picked at her to talk, that she would never open up. Now we at least talked about our plans or the flesh-cravers we had caught that day.

With the limp robin in my jaws, I padded quietly through the forest back to our nest. I followed the line of sticks Whitefire and I had jabbed into the ground so we could find our way back easily.

I glanced up at the white she-cat as she sat on top of a thick tree branch watching me come to the fence. "Any flesh-cravers or new cats?" I asked as I neared the silver-mesh. It was a question I asked every time I came back from hunting or checking the traps. She shook her head and kept her gaze forward.

I hopped over the silver-mesh fence and padded over to our nest. The scent of dog made the fur on my neck stand up even though I knew very well that the dog was gone and was never coming back. Sighing, I dropped the bird in the nest and went over to the tree Whitefire sat in. I climbed up the tree to sit next to her.

She sat with her head high and fur neat. Her stomach still looked sunken in but something was off about it. I looked out again to find a perfect view of the few traps we had made.

One trap was a hole about four-cats tall with a dead rabbit and a crow hanging from the branches above. There were five of them around our silver-mesh fence, all of them had at least four infected Twolegs in them. All five even had either a cat or two and a dog or two. From the one straight ahead, I seen three pairs of bloody, wounded arms swinging at the air, trying to get the rotting animals in their desperate grip.

Whitefire glanced over at me and twitched her ear. I looked over at her and met eyes with her. Whitefire's eyes were lifeless and serious. Then and there I truly realized how different we had become ever since we left StreamClan.

She had little scars along her face, shoulders, and legs from running through thorns from the infected when we first decided to find another place to stay.

Finally, after many long moments of an awkward silence, Whitefire spoke.

"Sootclaw," Whitefire murmured, "I think I'm expecting your kits."

***

Hope you guys liked this short chapter of Sootclaw and Whitefire! It's supposed to only be short :3 I might do another chapter of them later on, but I'm not sure.

Have a good week! Keep your heads up 'cause summer is almost here!

P_A83 out!