His breathing was soon the only sound he could hear, and his head had suddenly started to ache. Bolts of pain shot down his spine with every step he took, sunspots danced across his vision, and the watch dangling from his jaws rhythmically collided with his chest. He couldn't hear Tags' jeering any longer, but then again, he couldn't hear his heart beating either. It took far longer than he would have liked to realize that he was headed in the wrong direction, and the buildings were quickly become more sparse and further apart. But it didn't matter where he was going by this point, they weren't going to stop until he was dead. He racked his memory, trying to figure a way out. The next Faction territory was too far away, and even if he could manage to find one that didn't also want him dead, he wouldn't be able to make it in time.

A shadow passed over his head, and he quickly found himself passing under an arch that marked the edge of the innermost portion of the city. A wall stretched as far as he could see in either direction, and his heart dropped like a stone when he realized that there was no way to turn back without immediately being slashed open.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice that the wire trailing along behind him, still attached to the watch's clasp, had gotten tangled around his leg, and he promptly tripped when he attempted to jump over a metal rim protruding from the earth. He toppled to the ground, spitting as it continued to wrap around his legs and he slipped down the rise. Struggling to untangle himself and breathing heavily, he glanced up towards the hazy outline of four cats, who stood motionless near the arch he had run through. A distant clattering jogged his memory, and he saw the long snaking shape of the machine tracks that ran throughout the city.

As Hero watched, he saw all four of his pursuers staring uneasily into the plains that stretched behind him. "Get back over here before I come get you myself!" Tags growled audibly, and though she had advance towards him, Hero decided to not overstay his welcome. He quickly scrambled to his paws and dashed away from the city, until the crunching of gravel beneath his paws turned to the crinkling of dried meadow grass and soot-stained leaves. He looked over his shoulder briefly, just to see Bravo's tail disappearing into the shadows of the metal storage boxes that lay near the tracks. Wearily, Hero padded towards a large, flat boulder close to where he had stopped, and laid the watch he still held between his teeth on its surface. He pulled at the wire, wincing as he felt it cutting into his skin. Blood dripped down his muzzle just as he snapped the remaining wire and pulled it from his legs and tail, and the shallow wounds on his forelegs stung when he tried to lick away the blood that had crusted on his fur.

The cats had not followed.

Were the tracks a territory border? He'd heard stories of wild cats who lived out here, away from the city. He couldn't imagine such a life, and he thought it ridiculous for the cats to be afraid of some imaginary forest cats and a big stretch of grass. Well, all the better for him, he supposed. Hero turned back to the boulder, buckling the watch's clasp and pushing his head through it so that it slipped onto his neck.

Satisfied, he give a short, decisive nod, stepped forward, and was immediately swathed in a torrent of fire.

Hero screeched in surprise, scrambling away from the flames that had suddenly leapt up from the grass and scorched his fur. Agonizing, burning pain traveled up his spine, and he dropped to the ground, rolling to try and put out the bright orange flames crawling around his fur. As he writhed, he felt his movements slowing, and through the pain and caterwauling he saw something black and sticky beginning to cover his fur.

"Hold on!"

The words were drowned out, and Hero's voice cracked when he tried to scream again. Sparks flew across his vision. His eyes watered and his throat burned, and all he could see was the dancing of bright flames.

"Hey, look at me! Can you see me?"

Hero blinked slowly, and for a moment he glimpsed a blur of black and white fur. More agony, his head was throbbing. He tried once more right himself, then black flooded his vision, though the frantic yelling continued to echo in his ears. A last, warped yowl faded away in his head before everything went completely silent.

<——————>

Hero groaned, and his eyelids fluttered at the bleary surroundings. He huffed in discomfort at his aching limbs, and slowly looked around to try and figure out where he was. He lay there for a few moments, as he didn't yet have the energy to life his head, before eventually trying to push himself into a sitting position. He immediately regretted the decision, and it took all of his willpower to muffle a yelp of pain. From what he could see, he was sitting in some kind of earth and stone burrow. Roots held the ceiling of the burrow in place, and snaked down to the floor, where they'd been pushed into coils around nests made of bird feathers and some kind of green spongy plant.

He noted the precision in which the burrow was arranged. One of the thicker roots had been sliced open, and a clear liquid trickled from the gash and into a stone-lined basin dug into the floor. The same roots were used to hold up shelf-like clefts stocked with berries and leaves of varying shape and color, though what he found most impressive about the space was a small grass-woven orb that hung from another root in the ceiling, and contained three dimly glowing fireflies.

"D'you like the glowlights?" Asked a cat who had strode up behind him while he'd been marveling at the orb, and whose voice he faintly remembered between the painful spasms that had racked his body when the fire appeared on the plains.

Hero looked over at the black and white tom, whose yellow eyes were trained inquisitively on him. "Yea-," He started, but his voice cracked, and he swallowed before starting to speak again. His mind buzzed. "How do you... make those?" He managed to croak out, slowly regaining the use of his voice.

The tom smiled in amusement. "We don't, the swallows do. They come and build nests like that in the trees every newleaf, so sometimes we send apprentices to gather them so we can use them for light."

Hero stopped admiring the orb for a moment to shoot the tom an inquisitive glance. "Apprentices?" He asked, suddenly acutely aware that he had no idea where he was, or who he was with.

"Oh!" The tom suddenly said, "I forgot about you, uh, blacking out and all. I'm Whiteshadow, and you're in the AshClan camp." He finished, as if in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"AshClan," Hero repeated dully, "As in one of the legendary forest clans?"

"Yup," Whiteshadow nodded in assent, though he seemed entertained by the description.

The was a brief pause. "I'm dead aren't I?"

"No," Whiteshadow replied curtly, rolling his eyes. "But you certainly tried your hardest."

Hero shook his head in exasperation. "I've run from angry, dangerous mobs of cats. I've leapt over spiked walls, fought off dogs, scaled impossibly tall buildings, and in the end I'm killed by a bunch of dried grass and doomed to an eternity in burrow land."

"Oi!" Whiteshadow suddenly jabbed a paw into his side, and Hero yelped in surprise. "That feel dead to you?"

"Alright, you've made your point," Hero snapped, moving his tail protectively over the patch of scorched fur, and scooting further back into the nest. "Well how am I alive, then? Last I remember I was covered in black sludge. Oh, and also on fire."

Whiteshadow huffed. "Well, you wouldn't have been alive at all, if Lilypool and I hadn't found you and dragged you to a water pit. Do you have any idea how long it took to get all of that sludge out of your fur?"

"Who's Lilypool?" Hero grumbled, ignoring most of the tom's statement. As if in answer, a brown she-cat emerged from the tunnel the he supposed led out of the burrow, and sauntered towards the nest.

"The mystery cat awakens," The she-cat, quipped, halting a few paces behind Whiteshadow. Judging by the tom's acceptance of her arrival, Hero could only assume that that was the cat Whiteshadow was referring to. "He doing okay?"

Hero grinned. "Am now."

"Great," Lilypool griped sarcastically, turning to Whiteshadow. "Thistlestar wants to see you and your new smooth-talking friend below The Great Oak." She finished speaking with a swish of her tail, and left the burrow without another word.

Hero watched her leave, still beaming, and then glanced over at Whiteshadow. "I'm going to see the who below the what?" He lilted, and Whiteshadow sighed in amusement.

"You're funny, kittypet," Whiteshadow meowed, stretching and stepping towards the tunnel. "I know this is a lot to handle at once, but meet me outside when you don't feel like collapsing; and try and hurry. Thistlestar doesn't really do patient. Oh, and don't forget your ticking thing."

Whiteshadow gestured towards the watch, which Hero oddly hadn't noticed. He limped over to the shelf where it lay, almost completely devoid of damage. It had been polished clean, and there was hardly any dust that hadn't been brushed off. They'd brought it with them all the way from the tracks. Carefully, he slipped it over his head, exhaling in relief when he felt the cold metal around his neck. "It's Hero."

"Hm?"

"My name, it's Hero," Hero tried again, turning to Whiteshadow as he was about to leave. "And... and thanks. For not letting me burn to death." He finished, trying to sound as genuinely grateful as he could, a concept he wasn't exactly familiar with.

Whiteshadow smiled, giving him a passive nod. "Don't mention it," He replied.

Hero watched him disappear down the corridor, and once he was sure the tom was gone, padded over to the pool of water that dripped from the root. He peered at his reflection for a long while, observing the marks and burns on his pelt. He could see the faint scarring from the wire around his foreleg, and the charred patches on his pelt. And then he remembered what Whiteshadow had said, about him and that she-cat dragging him to the water. Sure, he'd been delirious during that time, but even if there'd been a water source he hadn't seen, he would have had worse burns than this, even in the time he'd been burning that led up to Whiteshadow finding him.

He gazed briefly around the burrow, from the herbs piled on the shelves to the firefly orb hanging from the ceiling, and then scanned his memory to remember the facial expressions of the two cats he'd seen up to this point. For a moment, he continued staring into the pool, and then the answer clicked.

"Magical healing sap," He concluded, sounding impressed and shrugging as if it were completely obvious. The headache he didn't realize he had immediately dissipated, and he half-limped half-strutted towards the tunnel with a newfound sense of confidence.

Blaze thought this was too much information and made me split this into two chapters. I object.

~Frost