The Light of Dusk

Chapter Eleven - Featherpelt

Luckily, when Dusk woke up, nobody was there to bother him. So he started to run again. Right into a gray she-cat. He sprang back, hissing, "You're in my way." He took a step to the side, trying to get past her.

No, you're in my way," She responded fiercely, clearly not caring about his size. She stepped to the side at the same time he did, so she stepped to the other side to get around. Dusk did as well, and this went on for a bit until Dusk just leaped over her.

"Hey!" The she-cat hissed indignantly, turning around to face him. "You can't just do that."

"I just did," Dusk huffed. He turned around as well, casually sitting down. He groomed his paw, rubbing it on his head. The she-cat just stared at him. Eventually, Dusk said, "You can go now."

"You're next to my den," she growled. "I didn't know kittypets had dens," Dusk retorted.

The she-cat visibly bristled at this. He had struck a nerve. "I am not a kittypet!" She glared at him. Dusk shrugged nonchalantly. "There's no other explanation for your softness, honey. It's okay. Nothing to be ashamed of, except that you do nothing in your life and are bound by humans everywhere you go."

"Would a kittypet be named Featherpelt?" Her glare did not lessen. "Oh, even worse. You were a kittypet who joined a Clan, but they kicked you out when they found out you used to be a kittypet," Dusk smirked.

"No! I left," Featherpelt growled. 

"Good. Clans are no good. Now, Packs- Packs are great. There would be no good reason to leave a Pack." Dusk spoke proudly. Although it was Mist who had taught him about Packs, he felt drawn to them, to the mystical hierarchy and the mysterious way of calling the Ranks and- he no longer associated them with Mist, but with.. What did he associate Packs with? He wasn't sure.

"And I suppose you're in a Pack?" Featherpelt sniffed. Dusk looked startled, but shook his head. "No," he meowed honestly. "You're one of the only cats I've met who I haven't killed."

"You don't scare me," Featherpelt growled, turning away from him. "Please," Dusk scoffed. "Honey, I've killed more cats than you've ever met."

Now, granted the average cat didn't meet that many others. Just their family and possibly a mate or two. But it was still scary to think about.

"Oh, let me guess," Featherpelt groaned. "You have one of those creepy names, don't you? What'd you name yourself, Blood? Skull? Killer?"

He stiffened. "I'm Dusk," he meowed coldly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be leaving." He stood up and began to walk away.

"You can't leave!" Featherpelt protested. "You owe me!"

This got Dusk to turn around. "And what, exactly, do I owe you?" He sneered.

"Well, I don't know, mousebrain!" Featherpelt snapped. "I just-"

"What's a mousebrain?" He interrupted.

"You really are dumb, aren't you?" She rolled her eyes. "A mousebrain means you're stupid, you mousebrain."

"Well, I'm sorry, honey, but we don't bother with petty insults in the mountains," Dusk snapped. "In the mountains, we care a little more about our next meal. You have no idea what a luxury it is to live in the forest. The prey practically leaps into your mouth. It takes strength to live in the mountains, and courage. Neither of which you possess. Now, I'll get you your 'favor,' but then I'm leaving."

Dusk padded off, looking for prey. It was hard, catching prey with all that undergrowth to trip on. It took him several tries before he chased a rabbit into a clearing, trying to dash into its burrow. Luckily, Dusk was too fast for it and quickly killed it. This is more my style, Dusk thought, satisfied. He carried it back toward Featherpelt haughtily.

Dusk dropped it at her paws, crouching down in an exaggerated bow. "Here you are, Your Majesty."

To his surprise, Featherpelt laughed. Dusk straightened up, smiling flusteredly. He quickly fixed his face into a neutral one.

"So why are you a loner? Why not join a Pack, if Packs are so great? Rogues don't typically like groups," Featherpelt asked conversationally, bending down to eat the rabbit. It seemed the prey and the act had cheered them both up. 

"Loner? Rogues?" Dusk asked, confused.

"Loners and rogues are the same thing. They both mean a cat not in a group. So, I guess we're both loners," Featherpelt meowed thoughtfully.

"Huh," rumbled Dusk. "Well, I just left the mountains after I killed my mother. And most cats run at the sight of me. So no, I haven't exactly been the most popular cat ever," he said sarcastically.

"My mom is dead," Featherpelt replied bluntly. "And I never met my father."

Dusk shrugged. "It's a great world, isn't it?" he yawned, rolling over onto his back. "You're still near my den, you know," Featherpelt pointed out.

"That's your problem, honey. I'm not moving." Honey had become Dusk's nickname for Featherpelt.

"Alright then." Featherpelt walked away, climbing up a tree. Dusk sat up to watch her curiously. She reached a branch, balancing precariously. "And what are you doing up there?" Dusk called up to her. "Going to the mountains," Featherpelt called back.

Dusk scrambled up to his paws. "What?! I can't be responsible for your death too! You'll freeze out there, your pelt is so thin!" Dusk roared angrily, leaping at the nearest branch. His hind legs sent down a shower of bark as he hauled himself up. Then another, then another..

"I'll prove to you I'm strong!" Featherpelt huffed, leaping onto a cliff from the branch. She began to run away from him, into the snow. Dusk kept jumping. Fortunately, his superior jumping abilities had him soon caught up to her and running after her. "You can't!" Dusk hissed. "He'll get you!"

Featherpelt didn't respond, focusing on running hard. Dusk leapt into her, tumbling with her until he could pin her. "Shh!" he hissed in her ear. He pressed his paw into her mouth so she couldn't speak, listening intently. Dusk sighed in relief when he heard the far-off yowling quiet and climbed off of her as Featherpelt bit down on his paw.

"I'm saving you, kit! You have no idea who's-"

His heart jumped in his throat as a voice sounded "Hello" right behind them.