Warriors: Pebblescar's Reality

Chapter 17

Recap: "We think those rogues took him with them. He was still fighting, but they dragged him away from camp and we haven't found him yet. Not even a scent trail! I hope we catch something soon. No blood trails are a good thing, right?" The voices murmured, and Pebblescar listen listened in disbelief as they wandered off.

What in the world was going on?

Pebblescar's body lie in a bed of shrubberies that had come from ThunderClan's flaking trees. The leaves piled under him as well as over, and surrounding him were tall reeds that most likely veiled his scent. When he tried moving his legs, he realized how badly they ached—after all, his body was covered in wounds and scratches from battle, and on top of that, he had barely gotten any food nor rest. The pile of RiverClan cats had surely dealt many blows to him too, and all these impediments hadn't started bothering him till now. However, as the familiar voice of the RiverClan warrior, Gartooth, came to mind, he thought, So I'm back to the world in which I'm deputy?

Don't let this be a trick.

"Pebblescar!" Gartooth called into the air. His voice was past the circle of reeds Pebblescar's body lie. The patrol hadn't scented him.

Pebblescar struggled to his paws, his legs trembling with his weight. "I-I'm here," he tried to call, but his voice was too low since he had just woken. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to yowl louder. "Gartooth, I'm here!"

Don't let this be a trick, thought the gray tom yet again, as Gartooth's ears pricked. Pebblescar forced his legs to rouse and carry his weight, and he clambered away from the leaves and reeds, only to come crashing down in a turmoil of dead bushes. His back arched in pain and he grunted when a thorn pierced through his skin.

"Pebblescar!" gasped a new voice, Featherlight. The she-cat immediately ran toward him, followed by Gartooth and Ripplefoot. "Here, let me help you." There was concern in the she-cat's mew as she leaned down and gently pulled his body upward. It was not a trick. "Are you alright?"

Pebblescar gave a weary nod, and sat down before he could trip again. He tried to hold in his breath of relief as he exchanged a glance with all three of his worried Clanmates, remembering in his dream how much hate he harbored for them. "Yeah, for the most part . . ." He gulped down a nervous breath, and looked at all three cats. "Wh-what happened?"

"A fight with those mangy pack rogues," growled Ripplefoot, baring his fangs. "Do you not remember? They greedily wanted us to contract our borders behind the river! You fought bravely, but when they retreated, you went missing too."

"We think they captured you and left you here," Gartooth put in, his green eyes wide. "I'm so glad we have found you. Minnowfrost and Oakfire were worried sick!"

Pebblescar's heart fluttered. "M-Minnowfrost was worried?"

His memories flashed to Reedstorm and Minnowfrost's relationship, and how she was expecting his kits. For a moment, his belly filled with the familiar hot rage of jealousy and bloodlust, but then he remembered: Reedstorm and Minnowfrost don't have that relationship here. His gaze traveled down to his paws as his thoughts swirled on. The fact that Reedstorm and Minnowfrost do not have a relationship did not change Pebblescar's detestation for Reedstorm, and he would do whatever it takes to satisfy his own justice.

"Yes, Minnowfrost was worried," Featherlight purred, cutting off Pebblescar from his thoughts. "There's a big thorn stuck on your back. Let me take that out for you, it must hurt." She leaned behind him and pulled it out as Pebblescar continued thinking. The pain of the thorn did not bother him at all. The only thing that bothered him was being with his Clanmates. Even though in this reality he was everything he ever wanted, his feelings never changed.