Warriors: High Tides

Chapter 21

Ivystream growled lowly at the bright white tom, aptly named Frosty. She had been kept prisoner by this tom and his ragtag group of wildcats for a week and a half now. Finally she'd requested to fight for her freedom and Frosty had complied.

Now she stared, unafraid, into the tom's scarred face. He seemed smug; she knew what he was thinking. He's thinking of what he's going to do with my corpse, she thought. He doesn't know I was trained as a Warrior. He doesn't even know what a Warrior is!

She lashed her tail and circled around him cautiously, sizing him up. He had a thick coat of fur on his neck and tail, but the undercoat sparsed into nothing on his main body and face. While she couldn't easily slice his jugular, she could probably make a series of small cuts...

Suddenly the bigger cat lunged. Ivystream, a quick thinker, jodged to the side and watched as Frosty hit empty space.

She called back on what her Mentor had taught her: Cats are made to run, she'd said, Not stand their ground. If you can run long enough to tire them, you'll win.

She turned and scrambled away.

This little clowder's "camp" was a large landfill, with long paths made by generations of feral cats living there and using the same trails through the years. She used these to her advantage, darting across 90 degree hairpin turns, dissapearing into an enclosed tunnel of trash, leaving false trails of scent.

By the time she managed to loophole her way to the other side of the trash pile, Frosty was starting to pant. He's not tired enough, her instincts screamed.

She prepared to bolt, but Frosty was already on to her. He lunged forward and caught her flank, knocking her on her side. He snarled in triumph as he stood over her, a single paw on her chest.

This is it, she thought, eyes wide. I'm never going to die the peaceful life of a Warrior. I'm never going to found a New Clan...

"Pledge your allegiance to me," Frosty growled, "And I'll let you live."

"I'll be indebted to you for as long as you live," Ivystream said quickly, realizing she had a huge chance here.

He grinned wickedly and stepped off her. "That's a good forest kitty," He purred with a stupid smile.

Ivystream lashed her tail, feeling blood bead out of the clawmarks on her side. She crawled into one of the central tunnels, a complicated network of underground chutes. She was allowed to wander freely here, on the condition she didn't come to the surface without reason. Only one tunnel led outside; she'd tried to escape once, but that lead to the tunnel exit being heavily guarded. It was useless.

She padded through the subterranian walkways, listening to the conversations above when she could evesdrop undetected. Nothing interesting ever came up, so she went about her business every few minutes.

Suddenly her sense of direction told her she was under Frosty's cozy den. She could feel the warmth of the hay decaying even from here, underground. She flicked a notched ear nervously, eyes wide.

Then she noticed something lodged in the wall of the walkway, and used her claws to dig at it.

It was a long, sharp, rusty metal beam with jagged edges and a sharp odor to it. She realized that ingenuity was the key to defeating Frosty; not brute strength at all.

She sniffed around, pushing the metal beam along in front of her, until she found the tunnel that lead directly into Frosty's den. She carefully dropped the metal beam on the floor of the tunnel and listened to Frosty speak: he had many mates, but a female named Flower was his main one.