Chapter One: It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...
"I can never go back."
The hopeless meow was scarcely audible above the pounding of the rain, but it didn't really matter. No one else was nearby to hear the yellow she-cat's utterance; she was just giving voice to her thoughts.
Such a sorrowful pronouncement from such a young cat; she was only in her third greenleaf. But she had good reason to make the statement she did. You see, this young cat was a murderer.
Little more than a quarter moon had passed since Sunnystripe had performed the act that altered the course of her life forever. Upon discovering that her mate, Shellstorm, had killed her younger sister, Ploverpaw, the young WindClan warrior had decided that the whole story was too crazy for the Clan to believe: Shellstorm was a traitor, passing WindClan secrets to ThunderClan, and Ploverpaw had seen him in his treachery; naturally, Shellstorm needed to silence Ploverpaw to protect his own reputation as a devoted warrior of WindClan.
Sunnystripe then had taken justice into her paws, convinced there was no other choice. She had also desired revenge, and didn't want any cat to take that from her. So she had bided her time until an opportunity arose, which it did fairly soon. They had gone hunting together near the gorge, and it had been but the work of a moment to push Shellstorm over the edge; he was so focused on the hunt that he never noticed his mate change her direction until it was too late.
As the gray tom plummeted to his fate, Sunnystripe had shrieked her sister's name at him, so that Shellstorm would understand why he was dying in such a horrible way.
The Clan had been willing to accept Shellstorm's death as a tragic accident when a RiverClan patrol found his body, but an odd loner who had happened to be in the area suspected foul play. This loner was very clever, and it only took him a day to uncover the truth.
Sunnystripe had then been exiled immediately upon admitting her guilt—there was no way to deny the accusation—and set off to travel on her own, determined to never live near other cats again. She would not stop traveling until she found a truly isolated place to live out the rest of her days, as a punishment.
Yes, this young cat regretted killing her mate, and she felt so terribly empty that she was afraid she would never feel whole again. However, she knew she deserved it, and so in a strange way welcomed the sensation.
At this moment in time, Sunnystripe had just left an old shed where she had sheltered for a little while from the rain. An old tabby she-cat lived there, and had begged Sunnystripe to explain why she was traveling in such terrible weather. So she told her tale of grief, and fled as soon as it was over, for she couldn't bear to stay any longer with a cat who she believed would despise her as a heartless killer.
The young cat trudged through puddles that covered her paws, letting her tail drag through the water as well. Her head was down and he eyes were narrowed against the pounding rain. She was beginning to feel slightly foolish for dashing out the shed like that, given her body's complaints from the weather, but what choice did she have?
In the darkness of the storm, Sunnystripe had no way of telling how much time had passed. She only knew that it had felt like an eternity when she discovered a half-empty garbage can turned on its side. Some dog must have knocked it over earlier, but it would do as a shelter.
She wrinkled her nose at the smell of rotting things in the can, but forced herself to get over her feeling of disgust. The yellow tabby was too exhausted to travel any farther, and at least the rain wasn't coming in. She stretched her jaws in a huge yawn as she settled down on something soft and slightly damp.
After tucking her tail around her muzzle, it was only a few moments before Sunnystripe fell asleep.
Chapter Two: Enter the Loner
The cheerful chirping of sparrows sounded clearly in the morning air. The fresh smell of damp soil was everywhere. Sunlight glinted off of water droplets on grass and trees. It was that most wonderful kind of morning in the world, the kind which comes after the rain. Everything seems new, and it's impossible to feel gloomy with such a glorious beginning to the day.
Unless you are a murderer who's been exiled from her Clan.
Sunnystripe was oblivious to the beauties of the fine spring morning as she tried to remove the smell of the garbage can by rolling in the wet grass. She alone of every other living thing in the area was feeling less than optimistic on this sunny day.
Her mind was busily planning how she could make the rest of her life livable. She had to ensure that she never did anything so mouse-brained and cruel again. The most important thing seemed to be to avoid living near other cats. Then, at least, she wouldn't have anyone that she might... Well, you know.
More than anything, Sunnystripe was afraid that, having killed once, she might do it again without thinking—she feared becoming a heartless killer. Now, with the amount of guilt and regret weighing on her spirit, her conscience was more than doing its job to prevent such a thing from occurring, but she hadn't realized it. Even if she had, it was unlikely that she would have trusted herself.
"I must control my emotions... It was loving that led me to this." Thinking out loud felt good, so she continued her soliloquy. "If I had never loved my sister, I would never had wanted revenge so badly; if I had never loved Shellstorm, the whole thing wouldn't have so painful."
Drawing in a deep breath, she stood up and tilted her head to face the sun. For a moment, she narrowed her eyes in enjoyment of the warm light. Then Sunnystripe snapped her eyes open and gazed at the fields before her. It is time to decide my code, or I will keep feeling lost. I may not be a warrior anymore, but I still need a code.
She spotted an oak tree nearby, and decided that it would be a good place to make a vow from. The lithe yellow she-cat scrambled up the bark somewhat clumsily, because she wasn't accustomed to climbing. She stopped on a nice sturdy branch and felt the breeze stir her whiskers.
This is it.
"I am a loner. I shall not have a Clan name. From now on, I will call myself Sunny." There, the hardest part was over. She had officially recognized her separation.
"I must not allow myself to live with other cats, nor must I allow myself to grow attached to any one cat in particular. I will be a rock, an island—unfeeling and separated from others so I can't hurt anyone, even myself." Yes, that sounded good. Sunny the hardened loner. But there should be more, something else to finish this private ceremony...
"I swear by my life and the stars I've left that I will never kill another cat again. This is my vow and my life, may I never even consider breaking it!" She tipped her head back and let out a wild yowl.
Sunny scooted down the trunk and bounded away into the tall grass. A new determination flooded her being, and she knew she could travel as long as it took for her to find the isolated home she needed.
Chapter Three: A Kit in Distress
The time had simply flown by as Sunny continued her travels. It had been a moon now since she was exiled from WindClan. Each day passed in much the same way: Wake up, hunt, walk, hunt again, walk some more, find shelter, sleep, and repeat.
Newleaf was well underway, and the air was always full of the sounds of birds singing and their chicks begging for food. Sometimes she even caught a glimpse of a family of foxes or badgers, and on one occasion while passing through a forest, she saw a marten teaching its kit how to hunt. Life was good.
At least until today. She was prowling through the brush at the edge of a forest. To her right, a smallish field opened up, dotted with gorse bushes here and there. Suddenly, a terrified shriek split the air.
"A kit!" Sunny gasped. Although she was no longer a warrior, the warrior code was still deeply ingrained in her mind, and without hesitating she dashed toward the sound. One of the most important parts of the warrior code was that all kits should be protected equally.
She skidded to a halt as she saw the bulky gray back of a badger appear in front of her. Dropping into a crouch, she took a moment to size up the situation. A ginger kit was cornered against a gorse bush, his kit-blue eyes wide with fear as the badger slowly shuffled toward him.
Immediately, Sunny approached the badger and let out a deep, threatening growl. The huge creature swung its head to face the newcomer and bared its teeth. Waiting for no further opportunity, the she-cat sprang at the badger and slashed her claws across its muzzle.
The rest of the fight went by in a blur for Sunny. She jumped on the badger's back, then was sent flying when her opponent gave a strong shake. She darted around, biting and clawing, and was once vaguely aware of the badger seizing one of her hind paws in its powerful jaws. She wrenched the paw free and dove at the badger again. The fight seemed to stretch on for an eternity, then suddenly Sunny's claws found one of the badger's eyes. With a roar of pain, it retreated.
The badger had only just left when two she-cats came dashing up through the grass. One was tortoiseshell, the other ginger, and both wore expressions of deep concern.
The ginger cat raced over to the kit and nuzzled him. "Are you all right, my dear?"
He piped up at once, though his voice was a little shaky. "Yes! That cat saved me! She just jumped on the badger and chased it away!"
"How can we ever thank you?" meowed the tortoiseshell, her eyes shining with gratitude.
Sunny heard the words, understood them, but could not respond. She wanted to say something, yet the words wouldn't come. She just stared blankly at the tortoiseshell she-cat.
The tortoiseshell's eyes darkened with worry. "You're hurt badly, look at yourself!" She approached Sunny cautiously.
The yellow she-cat wanted to say she was fine, but her mind and mouth still seemed to be disconnected. Her head felt curiously light as an overwhelming blackness pressed in on her vision. The last thing Sunny was aware of was her legs giving way like soggy plants just before she fainted.
Chapter Four: What Happened?
Agony.
Remorseless agony, crawling through her pelt and into her bones, was all Sunny could perceive. She felt like she was on fire, especially her hind paw...
As she grew accustomed to the pain, she perceived a sharp, herby scent tickling her nose. Horsetail. That was strange. They didn't have much horsetail growing in WindClan's territory.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she groaned softly. A tortoiseshell face appeared in front of her.
"Are you awake? Can you hear me?" asked a soft, concerned voice.
I'm awake, I think. But what was I thinking about? Oh, right. Sunny mumbled almost incoherently, "Iceleaf normally uses marigold..." She let out a little sigh and let the darkness claim her once more.
When she floated back into consciousness again, the pain had faded a little, but she was still achy all over. And why was her hind paw so much worse than the rest of her body? The yellow she-cat stretched her jaws in a wide yawn. That action alone helped her to relax a bit.
A wad of sodden moss lay on the ground just in front of her muzzle. She leaned forward just a little and lapped at it. Sunny was surprised to discover how thirsty she was; until the first cool drops touched her tongue, she hadn't even realized how dry her throat and mouth were.
After her thirst was quenched she took stock of the situation. She was in some sort of smooth-sided metallic den, and there was a very strong scent of other cats nearby, more cats than she had paws. Inspecting herself, she realized that the horsetail was gone, and smeared in its place over several large wounds was honey. Her left hind paw was wrapped tightly with leaves, and she could see a stick poking out from the wrapping.
How odd.
The soft patter of paws alerted her to the arrival of another cat. It was the tortoiseshell. In her jaws she carried more soaked moss. Laying the moss down beside Sunny, she meowed a greeting.
"Hi, you look more alert. How do you feel?"
Sunny sighed. "Not wonderful."
The tortoiseshell she-cat blinked sympathetically. "You really took quite a beating from that badger. You even broke a few bones in a hind paw, which is probably the main reason you still don't feel well."
"I broke my paw?" She turned her head to stare at the wrapped paw. That would certainly explain why it was bound up in such a way. "But I never felt it break..."
Amusement glimmered in the other she-cat's eyes. "It's amazing what you don't notice when you're focused on something else. I remember my mother once ripped her ear on a blackberry bush while she was hunting and had no idea what had happened till she came back and my littermates and I saw the blood."
Huh. Slowly, Sunny struggled to sit up, wincing as her stiff muscles cried out in pain. "I should probably get moving soon..."
"What?" The tortoiseshell's eyes flared wide in astonishment. "You can't be serious!"
"I am. I can't stay, though I appreciate—"
"You've been unconscious for three sunrises, haven't eaten a thing, and you've barely had any water. On top of that, your broken paw hasn't had time to set properly. You aren't going anywhere, and that's flat!" The tortoiseshell's eyes blazed with the strength of her emotion. "Some way to show my gratitude by letting you go out and die because you're too weak to take care of yourself!"
Sunny could only stare, taken aback by the other she-cat's outburst.
"You saved my sister's kit, and I'll nurse you back to health if it's the last thing I do." The tortoiseshell calmed slightly as she crouched down to check the dressings on the wounds. "I'm sure you have somewhere you want to be, but you won't be doing yourself any favors if you try to go anywhere in this condition."
The yellow she-cat sighed. I do still feel pretty awful. Maybe she's right... She settled back down into her feather-lined nest and sucked resignedly at the fresh bunch of wet moss before her.
Chapter Five: The First Attack
Sunny had improved rapidly over the next few days that had passed. Now, she was working on various exercises that the tortoiseshell had devised to keep her muscles from wasting away while she sat around waiting for her bone to heal.
She had learned quite a bit about the cats who were caring for her. There were three adults and three kits, and they called their little group a "clowder". Dunnock was the leader, and then there was his mate, Pimpernel, and Pimpernel's sister, Newt, who was Sunny's healer. Dunnock and Pimpernel had three kits: Maple, Campion, and Yarrow. Campion was the one Sunny had rescued, and he had proven to be a very attentive companion.
Once it was clear that Sunny would no longer be sleeping all the time, little Campion was always at her side, entertaining her with his silly antics. Although his young mind perhaps could not quite understand why he felt that he needed be with her, it was the bond that was forged through the saving of Campion's life.
For her part, Sunny was torn as to how she should feel regarding the whole situation. Every time a feeling of warm affection for these kind cats swept through her, she tried to stifle it—but she couldn't keep it from returning. With each passing day, she felt as though her resolution to be like a rock was fading more and more.
It was a peaceful morning. Pimpernel was lying in a patch of sunlight, wiggling her tail-tip for her kits to chase. Dunnock and Newt had gone hunting and were expected back at any moment. Sunny yawned, deciding she'd enough of the tedious stretches and settled down to give her fur a thorough washing.
It was a peaceful morning... Until Newt came skidding into the little camp, her tail bushed out and her pupils huge with fright.
"What's wrong?" Pimpernel queried immediately, springing to her paws.
"It's Whinchat's clowder!" Newt panted. "They've been attacked!"
"By whom? And where's Dunnock?" The ginger she-cat's voice had a worried tone.
"The woods clowder... We were stalking some pigeons and then we heard all the yowling. Dunnock sent me to fetch you. You've got to help us fight!" Newt stared pleadingly at her sister.
Pimpernel obviously wanted to go, but she hesitated. "The kits...?"
Her sister responded in a heartbeat. "Sunny can watch them. We won't be gone long and she's fit enough to last with the kits awhile. But we've got to get moving! I think most of the woods clowder was there."
Wait, what? I'm watching the kits? Nervousness pulsed through Sunny. She had little experience with kits, and she certainly was still too weak to defend against an attacking predator.
Before she could protest, however, Newt gave her sister an insistent nudge. "They'll be fine. Let's just go!" The tortoiseshell she-cat then bounded away. "Come on!"
With one last worried glance over her shoulder, Pimpernel hared after Newt. Only a few heartbeats passed, and Sunny could no longer hear either she-cat. She was on her own.
"So, Sunny." Yarrow trotted over to the yellow she-cat, his face rather serious.
"So, what?" Sunny meowed in response, feeling a glimmer of amusement at the expression on the little tom's face.
"So, do you know any good games?"
Such a solemn tone, and what a question to go with it! Sunny couldn't help but to let out a little mrrow of laughter. "Well, there's Pass the Pebble. I loved that when I was..." Her eyes took on a faraway look as she trailed off.
WindClan. Her family. Why had she thrown it all away? Stop being sentimental! she scolded herself silently. She had a job to do, to entertain the kits till their family returned. That's all it was, just a job. Not a time for her to wallow in guilt and memories.
"When you were what?" Maple chirped brightly, her eyes alight with curiosity.
"A kit," Sunny replied briskly, coming out of her daydream. "Now then, shall I teach you to play."
"I don't like messing around with rocks and stuff," Yarrow complained. "I want to play Feather Hunter."
"Aw, c'mon, Yarrow," Campion mewed. "We played Feather Hunter yesterday. And there's no good feathers left, you messed them all up, remember?"
Yarrow snorted. "I messed them up? Who took the best hawk feather and chewed it up, huh? Huh?"
"Um, kits?" Sunny interrupted timidly. They ignored her.
Maple decided she wanted in the quarrel, and cried, "Campion may have ruined the hawk feather, but you shredded the pretty quail feathers!" Her fuzzy little tail whipped back and forth.
"You're a liar!" Yarrow spat. "I never touched your stinky quail feathers!"
"Oh, yeah?" Maple hissed, and then with a squeak of excitement, she pounced on the cream-furred tom. Within moments they were locked in a squealing wrestling match.
How wonderful. Sunny was left alone with the kits just a short while, and she managed to let them get out of paw. Pimpernel would surely be disappointed. But wait—it didn't matter what the other cats thought of her, as she would be leaving soon anyways.
Campion gave Sunny an apologetic look. "Sorry they're acting this way, but really, we like having an excuse to play-fight... Weeeee!" And he pounced on his tussling littermates.
The yellow she-cat sighed. Well, if this really was something they did for fun, was there any point in stopping it?
The fight didn't last long, and soon they were pretending to hunt each other. As it turned out, Sunny didn't have to do much other than make sure nobody got really hurt.
It wasn't a whole lot longer before Sunny became aware of the other cats' return. The anxious murmuring of their voices, the many pawsteps, the scents—blood! There were badly injured cats coming! She had to get the kits out of the way.
"Hey there!" Sunny called, forcing lightness into her meow. "How about you little ones go play in the silver can?" The object in question was a silvery metal cylinder that was hollow and had an opening at one end. The kits often liked rolling around in it to make it tilt and clatter.
"Why should we?" Maple asked saucily. "We're fine as we are."
"Because I said so, that's why!" The yellow tabby was in no mood to argue with the kits. "Just go!"
Maple flicked her tail in annoyance, but Yarrow gave her a nudge and Campion mewed quietly, "I think we had better listen to Sunny..."
"Hmmph!" But she still followed her brothers, and in a few heartbeats they were play-fighting and having a good old time making the silver can rock back and forth.
No sooner had the kits become involved with their new game when five cats hurried into the camp. Dunnock and Newt were supporting a horribly wounded torbie-and-white she-cat between them, who was barely taking any steps. Pimpernel was following a limping brown tabby-and-white tom, watching him in case he needed help.
The tabby-and-white tom flopped down in the middle of the camp while Newt and Dunnock guided the nigh-unconscious she-cat into the den where Sunny and the others slept (which, as a point of interest, was a dumpster turned on its side).
Sunny approached hesitantly, unsure of what to do. The tom was licking a nasty wound on his shoulder, and Pimpernel was standing there asking him questions about his injuries. When she noticed Sunny, she looked up and introduced the newcomer.
"This is Buzzard. His sister Whinchat is in the den with the others, and..." She glanced sympathetically at the tom.
"You might as well tell her everything," he rasped in a voice tense with pain. His golden eyes were full of grief.
Pimpernel nodded in acknowledgement. Her own voice shook as she continued. "Whinchat and Buzzard had another littermate, a white she-cat named Swan. She... She didn't make it. We buried her back at their camp."
"I'm so sorry," Sunny meowed huskily to Buzzard. Her own throat seemed thick as the sorrow of losing her own sister floated up in her memory. Then she gave herself a mental shake. My past is gone, I can't let myself dwell in it.
He blinked dully, but made no other response.
Sunny turned her attention back to Pimpernel. "So... What exactly happened? Who attacked their clowder? And why?" She honestly was concerned. The little she had learned about clowders in her short time with these cats had led her to think that clowders mostly coexisted peacefully, with only minor squabbles now and again.
The ginger she-cat sighed. "It was the woods clowder—one of the largest clowders, you remember—but we aren't sure why. Most of the clowder was there, we think. Such a vicious attack like this is entirely unprecedented in all the clowders." Her amber eyes darkened as her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I'm afraid this could mean something big is changing in the clowders, and I'm not sure what we can do about it..."
Chapter Six: Decision Time
Whinchat's clowder soon became just one of many small clowders attacked over the next moon and a half. The small clowders' territories overlapped in many areas, so all important news spread like wildfire; whatever happened to the big clowders remained fairly unknown.
Vervain's clowder was attacked, but they managed to hold their ground. Marten's clowder became fragmented, with some cats fleeing (much to Dunnock's surprise, they applied to him for refuge) and some actually joining the woods clowder rather than living in constant fear of another attack. And Sycamore's clowder disappeared entirely without a trace; it was unknown at this point if they had fled or joined the woods clowder.
These were just the major attacks. Single cats or pairs were often ambushed while hunting, and the boxcar clowder had actually lost a cat to one such ambush. This was the only confirmed attack on another large clowder, but the boxcar and warehouse clowders tended to be much more close-mouthed about things that affected them, in part because they were big enough to deal with difficulties, whereas the smaller clowders depended on each other to be aware of potential threats.
The camp was so crowded anymore, what with the addition of Marten and two of his cats, that Dunnock was seriously considering looking for a new camp. But he hated to leave, because this camp afforded such easy-to-defend hiding places for his kits. Newt had suggested Marten, Whinchat, and their respective cats go off to form a new clowder on their own, but he had scoffed at the idea.
"The only real protection against the woods clowder is in numbers," he had declared to the tortoiseshell. So the subject was closed: Either they all moved together, or not at all. And to be perfectly honest, in spite of his earlier reluctance, Dunnock was actually starting to enjoy his position of leadership over a larger group than just his family.
You see, at first Dunnock had hoped Whinchat and Buzzard could be sent on their way as soon as possible, but Newt refused to let her patients be turned out, stating that Whinchat was in no condition to lead a clowder. It was similar with Marten: The brown tom felt so utterly crushed by his failure to keep his family together that he couldn't bring himself to act as a leader anymore.
So it was that Sunny found herself sharing a home with more cats than she ever expected after she was exiled. And she was becoming more and more attached to each cat as the days passed. She was angry with herself for failing to keep her vow, and each morning when she woke up, therefore, she told herself firmly that she owed these cats nothing: Yes, they had saved her life, but she had saved Campion's. They were even.
Restlessly, she stood up and paced the camp for the third time that morning. Just last night, Newt had removed the dressing from Sunny's broken paw and declared the bones mended. Ever since then, the yellow she-cat had been itching to get out of the camp, but she was unable to get up the nerve to just sneak out.
"Something wrong, Sunny?" Pimpernel meowed with concern as Sunny padded past the queen, who was in the process of grooming her kits.
Sunny hesitated, then decided she might as well spit it out. "I... I think I need to leave camp for a bit. I've just been cooped up in here so long, and Newt gave me the all clear last night, so—"
"Leave? As in for good?" Pimpernel interrupted sharply, her eyes wide with shock.
"No!" Sunny responded hurriedly. "Well, maybe. But—"
"How can you?!" the ginger she-cat exploded. "Just like that?"
To make it even more awkward, Campion piped up, "Don't go, Sunny! We'll miss you!" His eyes, green now that they had lost their kit-blue color, were round and pleading. His littermates nodded as well, wearing anxious expressions.
Sunny sighed. This was going to be more difficult than she'd thought. "If I may be allowed to finish? I need to go be on my own to think for a bit. I haven't decided whether or not I'll stay."
"But you can't go out alone!" Campion protested. "What if the woods clowder gets you?"
"He has a point," the kit's mother admitted. "Why don't I go with you?"
"Thank you, but I really need to be alone," Sunny replied firmly. "I'm sorry."
"Well, all right," Pimpernel said reluctantly. "But you can't leave us leave us without saying goodbye, okay?"
The yellow she-cat nodded. "I won't, I promise." Without any further words, she padded determinedly out of the camp, her head held high.
She wandered past some Twoleg nests, looking for just the right spot to settle down and have a good think. Surrounded by scraggly weeds and smooth walls, she simply couldn't find anywhere that seemed right.
Sunny had almost given up hope when she caught a glimpse of trees through a gap between a couple of Twoleg nests. She slipped through the opening, then stopped dead in her tracks, momentarily shocked by the sight that greeted her.
At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary: an open grassy area gave way to a forest beyond. A second glance, and then you would notice the things, great boxy metal things that looked like giant versions of the den at Dunnock's camp. They were quite a distance away, but tall and colorful enough to be easily seen.
Yes, this was a good place to stop, a place where wilderness mixed with Twoleg weirdness. There was something oddly peaceful about the whole thing, something natural that didn't quite make sense to Sunny, though she couldn't understand it, nor did she care if she could. She was just happy to have found the place.
The yellow tabby crawled under some brambles and sat down to groom herself; she always did her best thinking while giving herself a good wash. She started with the once-broken hind paw, running her tongue over it and feeling the slight unevenness where the bones had broken. They were mended, all right, but would never be perfect again.
Not that it mattered. She was able to get around fine, and that was what counted.
Now, time to get down to business. Sunny had a very important decision to make, and it certainly wasn't going to be easy. First things first, she needed to analyze the situation carefully, and give herself a realistic idea of the future.
"StarClan help me," she muttered, then gave herself a mental reproof. StarClan can't possibly hear me, I'm so far from Clan lands! Not that they would care about a murderer anyways...
She was growing far too attached to the cats she lived with. So much for being a rock. Even with the newcomers, she couldn't help but think of each cat without a surge of emotion. She pitied Buzzard, who'd been injured far more badly than was first thought, and consequently still limped and felt pain in his shoulder. She empathized with Buzzard's sister Whinchat, who had been responsible for her siblings, and ended up losing one and letting the other be crippled. Not to mention the pain she felt whenever she looked at Marten, Birch, and Sandpiper, and thought of how their family was ripped apart.
Even more so than these cats, she cared especially for the original cats of Dunnock's clowder. Dunnock himself, the reluctant yet competent leader of the newly expanded group. Wise Newt, who strived so hard to heal Sunny—where did all her herbal knowledge come from, anyway? Kind, practical Pimpernel, a devoted friend. And the dear kits: feisty Maple, stubborn Yarrow, and of course the ever-cheerful and loyal Campion.
Enough!
It wouldn't do to think that way. Sunny knew that, but every morning when she awoke, she had to remind herself that she had no right to the friendship of these cats, as a filthy murderer. She also owed them nothing; she had saved Campion and they had saved her. They were even in that regard. Most of all, the more she let herself care for the clowder cats, the more she turned against the solemn vow she'd made—had it really been two moons ago?
She had to leave, she just had to. She neither needed nor deserved friends, and certainly staying here and growing more attached was putting her at risk for another murder. If she saw the woods clowder hurt or kill one of her dearest cats, was it possible that she might turn into an avenging fury once more? She couldn't risk it.
So, I must travel once more. But why do I feel as though I'm becoming a traitor if I do? Sunny's conscience was pricking at her, reminding her that if she stayed, she could do much to help the clowders in their struggles. If she left, she was abandoning them to a unknown fate.
Head versus heart, the age-old struggle. Her head told her clearly that she must shut down her emotions and get out while she still could. Her heart (and every instinct for that matter) said that she must stay and help these cats in whatever way possible. What to do, what to do!
"If I stay, I'll break my vow of being isolated and my vow to be attached to no other cats. If I leave, I'll be forever haunted by thought that I could done more to help them, could have made things different," Sunny soliloquized. "Just like Shellstorm's face as he fell still haunts me..."
Stop! That is the past, you cannot dwell in it! Yet she knew that constantly remembering was unavoidable; the harder she tried to forget, the more deeply it became engraved in her mind.
She nibbled at a piece of dirt that was stuck in her otherwise-sleek tail. The action was soothing, just part of a normal routine. A routine that would remain the same wherever she lived.
A new thought occurred to her like a lightning bolt passing through her brain, and she stopped grooming and leapt to her paws. There was another reason to stay! It was quite possible that while helping combat the woods clowder, she could save lives, and in the process, perhaps even begin to make up, just a little, for killing Shellstorm. It would be much more selfish and damaging if she left the clowder.
True, she was breaking a promise to herself, but what of it? She could still force herself to live by the "no attachments" part, which would be very difficult, but workable (she hoped). And the "no killing" part would be easy enough, once she had the first mastered. It was only really her vow of isolation that she was breaking, but once the situation with the woods clowder was resolved, she could move on.
So was Sunny decided, then? It seemed that she was. She would protect Dunnock's clowder or die trying. Now she had only to figure out the best way to be of assistance.
Buoyed by her new determination, she set off back into the Twolegplace, hoping she could recall the way back. After all of her grand plans, how silly she would feel if she got lost trying to execute them!
