Hate, or Love? (Sequel to Me, or Her?)

Part 3: Dubious Uttering

Hello :3

Quick note: This part will *might* be a bit boring to some of you; I'm not sure, though. There's a lot of dialogue, and not much happens, but hopefully it will still sate some of your hunger for reading x3 This is also a tiny bit more than 3,000 words, so prepare yourself, and enjoy Part 3! :D

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The warm scent of fresh-kill hits my nose, causing it to twitch. I slowly open my eyes and see that a dead mouse lay a few whisker-lengths in front of me where I am sprawled out on the ground. I soon realize that it is not just my vision that is dark, but that it is actually night. Gently turning my head to look upward, I see the claw-sliver of the moon mildly casting its light down between the leaves overhead. It is around moonhigh.

And then the stinging comes in, first on my muzzle, and then, more painful, on one of my front legs. The memory quickly revives itself in my mind of the fight with the fox as I look at my leg. However, instead of the bloody mass I am excepting to see, all the blood is cleaned from my fur and the wound is white, covered in cobwebs.

"Guess I will have to stay with you now."

I snap my head to the source of the murmur and see that Scamp is sitting next to a tree a couple of tail-lengths away from me. Even though he is practically invisible in the darkness, I can still barely make out his ruffled black fur, but the single white patch of fur on his chest stands out bright as day.

I then glance at the fresh-kill again and realize that he must have caught it. For me. My fur begins to bristle and I feel the anger boil in my chest. "I don't need your help!" I hiss at him through the dark. Even from where he stands by the tree, I see him flinch a bit at my harsh tone. I feel no remorse as I carry on. "Why should a kittypet take care of me, who has been living in the wilderness my entire life? I can catch my own prey, thank you very much, and without you getting in the way."

To prove my point, I shakily push myself up, rather forcefully. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Scamp take a couple paces forward, but I ignore him. I am pleased when I do succeed in standing straight. I take a step forward and place my first paw down.

Pain shoots through my injured leg and spreads throughout my whole body. It buckles beneath me and I fall - only to then be jerked back up as Scamp grabs my scruff between his teeth. He pulls me upward and I scrabble to find my footing. When I eventually do, he releases his grip slowly, as if with caution that if he were to lay one hair on me I would fall right over. Not knowing what to do, and to cover up my great embarrassment I feel - curse my glowing white pelt, fluffed up visibly in these shadows - I growl deeply, but softly, and await his retort.

It is completely different from what I expect, however.

"Tell me about your Clan," the tom says to me quietly. Almost genuinely.

His order takes me by surprise and my head snaps to look at his glistening amber eyes in the night. "What?" I quickly come up with some fighting words; I will not let him get what he potentially wants that easily, if at all. "What makes you think that I will willingly inform you about my Clan?"

"You told me some about it not even a full sunrise ago."

Fox dung. Curse my scattered head.... I cannot mistake the slight humor that twinkles in his eyes, either. StarClan, I hate this tom. Why did that fox have to cross my path?

Or, rather, why did this tom?

He continues, "Like, what does everyone do? You said something before about going on patrols and hunting. Is that all?"