Prologue
“Careful going up the hill,” The long-furred brown tom meowed to the two apprentices as he lead the hunting patrol to the bottom of a steep slope.”It’s very easy to fall down it.” He easily found the path that was seemingly carved into the side of it and made his way up, careful of the wind buffeting the group of four cats.
“Why is this called Whisker’s Slope?” The light grey and white apprentice asked her mentor who was bringing up the rear.
“Because…” The darker grey she-cat started. She crouched as a strong breeze almost knocked her down the slope. “Because all it takes is a Whisker of a miss-step to fall down it.” She nudged her apprentice’s rump when the breeze dropped off to tell her to get moving.
“Really?” The quiet black tom in front of his sister meowed as they reached the top of the slope. His white paws disappearing in the tall grass that covered the slope and made falling down it soft and easy.
“No not really,” The first tom purred in amusement. “Ashfeather don’t tell me Whitescar never told you about Whisker’s Slope!”
The darker gray she-cat, Ashfeather, flicker her tail in embarrassment and shook her head. “No he didn’t, he just complained about invisible fleas that got in his nest.”
“Well then,” The brown tom snorted and sat down under the shade of a great oak tree. “I guess we have time for a story before we continue hunting.”
“You’re going to tell us a story Oakstar?” The young gray apprentice bounced around in excitement. “Ravenpaw! Come on and sit!”
“Calm down Skypaw,” The black tom snorted and nudged his sister playfully as he sat in front of the FallenClan leader. Skypaw huffed and sat down besides him.
“Ashfeather you sit too,” Oakstar purred with amusement in his eyes as the other warrior scented the air for prey.
“Oh all right,” She purred softly, she was actually very interested in hearing the story so she settled right behind her apprentice and looked at Oakstar intently.
“Now,” The proud leader of Fallenclan began his tale. “Long ago, much longer than any cat alive today remembers. There was a cat. He didn’t look like a special cat. He didn’t really act like a special cat. He didn’t think he was a special cat. He was just a cat. But he had curiosity. Lots of curiosity. And that is how he Fell.”
Chapter 1
“RUN!” An unseen cat yowled. “You have to get to safety! GO! Go before you fall! Before we all fall!”
Darkness was all he could see. The darkness of night and something sinister filled the.. Area he was in. He didn’t know where it was all he could see was shadows moving, spinning around him. He couldn’t tell if they were getting closer or farther away they were just moving all around, frantic and scared. He could feel the fear, he could smell it.
“You have to run!” A cat yelled in his ear, he turned to look but there was nothing. “You have to leave! Please! Whatever you do, don’t fall!”
What? He tried to meow, but he couldn’t speak, he could barely move to look around. What’s happening? What’s wrong?! He felt panic rise in his chest as something wet splashed his face. He couldn’t tell what it was, he just knew it was wet and it smelled disgusting. He looked around wildly for the source but saw nothing.
Drip. Whisker jolted awake as water dripped onto his nose. He looked around with wide brown eyes, not really seeing anything as panic shot through him. It took him a few moments to realize that he was just in his nest and he wasn’t in any danger. As his heartbeat calmed in his chest he looked up to see the source of his wet nose and notice water leaking through the cardboard box he lived in. He shook his head as another drop dripped right onto his forehead and stood up.
He exited the con-caving box with a sigh, he hoped the elderly twoleg would give him another box to sleep in, like he did this one. The elderly twoleg was the only nice twoleg that the small tom had ever met, all the others that came to the den he lived outside were mean and seemed to enjoy scaring him away. But the elderly one noticed how hard he worked to keep the den free to mice and saw a kindred spirit in the cat. The other two legs didn’t seem to treat him nicely either.
Whisker scented the air, opening his mouth to try and distinguish the smell of something living and warm from the rotting twoleg food that they threw in the giant, cold green box he lived under. His ears perked when he scented a mouse not far from his den. He crouched like his mother had taught him and stalked towards the scent, ears swiveling when he could hear the small creature rummaging through the trash on the ground near the entrance to the alley. The tom hoped the overpowering scent of the garbage would mask his cat-scent so the mouse wouldn’t detect him as he stalked closer.
He could see the creature’s tail now, he was only about a few tail-lengths away. The brown tom took a few more carefully placed steps forward before he put his weight on his haunches and wiggled his hips, gathering enough energy to make the jump and cover the distance between predator and prey. Whisker narrowed his eyes and made the leap, claws outstretched as he landed right on top of the mouse. His whiskers twitched as he could feel the small prey panic and try to escape and he managed to pin it down and quickly killed it with a bite to the back of it’s neck.
“Thank you,” The cat glanced up at the dark, overcast sky before he started to eat his well-caught meal. He didn’t know what or why he was thanking the sky but he had always done it since he had first learned how to hunt. His siblings thought he was crazy but he didn’t care much about what they thought back then.
“
I see my Mouser is keeping up to his name,” A familiar voice came from the back entrance to the twoleg den. He didn’t know what the elderly twoleg has said but he knew the tone was nice. Whisker meowed his greeting to the creature with no fur and waved his tail happily. He picked up his mouse and took it over to his rapidly decaying den and meowed pitifully to the twoleg.
“
Oh no, your box! Don’t worry! I’ll have a new one for you by tonight!” Well it sounded like good news, Whisker hoped. He’ll just have to wait and find out. He went back to eating his catch as the twoleg went back inside the den.
After grooming his fur and getting it nice and sleek, the smaller than average loner set off to visit his normal hang out spots, all traces of his dream forgotten for now. He jumped on top of the green trash box and then on top of the wall at the back of the alley and finally he made the high jump onto the roof of the neighboring deln and walked easily along slanted edge. He made multiple glances to the cloudy sky, worried about more rain to ruin his day. He ended his walk by sitting on a tall wooden fence, exchanging news and rumors with some of the other friendly loners that lived in the twoleg settlement.
There weren’t many loners willing to talk to each other, many were suspicious of each other and territorial of the small areas they were able to carve out for themselves. Whisker himself had always thought it would be easier for everyone if they worked together and helped each other, but he could never convince the others of this so he helped when he could but otherwise he kept to himself.
“I think there’s a stray dog running around your area,” He heard one cat tell another. “Be careful okay? It had big teeth!”
“I can take care of myself!” The cat hissed in response before jumping off the fence and heading back to their territory.
Whisker just snorted and shook his head, forgetting about the dog as it wasn’t near his nest, and continued to chat with the other loners. There wasn’t much news to pass on so they mostly just told stories that they’ve all heard thousands of times and have all been exaggerated beyond belief.
“You said it was three fox-lengths long last time!” A she-cat interrupted a tom. “Now it’s five?” She snorted and shook her head but didn’t move to challenge him, only purred in amusement.
“Well I just didn’t want to scare the younger ones last time,” The Tom sniffed and went back to telling his story. It took up a good chunk of the afternoon but Whisker didn’t mind, he loved to help act out some parts of the well told story.
It was getting to be dusk by the time Whisker made his way back to his box in the alley. His gait was confident, despite the fact he was smaller than most cats his age. He purred softly when he noticed the older twoleg had indeed gotten him a new box next to the large green one.
He was glad that aside from a few short showers it hadn’t rained much. His belly was full after a fat rabbit had practically begged for him to catch it when he was passing through a fenced in grassy area to get back to his territory.
As Whisker approached his box a strong, sharp scent filled his senses and caused the fur on his back to stand on end. He whipped around in time to see a flash of eyes in the shadows of the alley before the creature darted towards him. The brown tabby quickly sprang up onto the top of the green box and hissed down at the giant black and brown dog as it snapped at the spot he had been moments before.
He swiped at the dog's nose when it raised it's head to look at him, he gave a satisfied growl when he heard the dog whimper in pain.
The dog quick recovered and tried to jump up onto the top of the box, it almost made it too, slipping off the shiny black top at last second. But Whisker knew that even if he had the higher ground that he wouldn't be able to fight off such a large canine by himself, and from the size of the thing's teeth he didn't want to risk injury.
So with a heartbreaking decision, Whisker turned away from the dog and jumped off the box and ran out of the alley and out towards the outskirts of the Two-leg settlement, not even chancing a look behind him to see if the dog was following him. He ran, ran away from his home and all of the cats he had come to know from his seasons of living in the cluster of dens and monsters. He ran towards the darkness that laid past the last lights of the two-leg nests and thunderpaths, unsure of the future for now.