The Clan Renaissance

An Alternate Universe Warriors Roleplay

The last traces of daylight had long faded away. In its place, shadows crept across the wetland, its long, spider-like arms extending over muddy waters and rotting logs. Nighttime was the ideal time for hunting prey, with the worst of the sun’s heat hidden underneath the horizon. He stalked through a patch of sedges, and dipped his paws in an open section of water, away from the lilypad-covered parts of the stream. It was stubborn; its swarming protested against Rat’s attempts at wading through. But Rat was not in the trenches of the mudwater yet:

He was barely a quarter of the way the other side.

Unseen frogs leaped into the water when they noticed his arrival. His nostrils flared out at the loss of another potential kill. He had been hunting dusk, and now it was past moonhigh. No luck, despite his efforts. His ability to hunt in the swamp had improved since the first time they set camp here, but he was, by no means, proficient. Birds and snakes eluded his grasp, and the dense undergrowth slowed him down. But at least he was familiar with the landscape.

At night, it reminded him of the darkness of abandoned alleyways and sewages. For its few resemblances to twolegplace, the marshland must effectively evoked the shadows of his old home. A bat burst out of a tree, soaring into the night sky. The moon outlined its small, black shape. He remembered his sister, Bat, and wondered, for an odd moment, whether she was watching him. He nearly laughed at how mouse-brained the idea was.

The water now reached to his knees. His body parted aside the green splotches of algae, and hoverflies dispersed from their perches. The ground dramatically sloped downward until his paws could no longer reach the bottom. Panic threatened to rise within him, but he kept his legs moving. If he let the anxiety overtake him, he would surely drown.

The mud became thicker and thicker, his movement slowing down tremendously. Reassuring himself, he noted how he was halfway through the stream, and he mustered a confidence to believe he would make to the other side. 

His ears pricked at a quiet splash, the sound one makes when entering the water. His fur bristled, his eyes skirting the area for the creature. Somewhere from his periphery was a dark flash of movement. His blood ran cold. He turned his head downstream and confirmed that he was not alone. There was the silhouette of a cat there too, but he doubted the noise came from them… 

He squinted at the approaching cat. Instinctively, Rat’s ears pinned against his head and a warning hiss slithered out of his mouth, signaling for the stranger to keep their distance. Though, wading in the thickest part the muck, there was no point in a fight. One could barely wriggle their claws through the mud as it was already. But in the same vein, he realized that mud, as much as it acted as a neutralizer, also served to trap them. And if they wanted to have any hope of escape, they would need to rely on each other. He stopped hissing when he heard the cat’s question.

Turning to where the splash was, he could not make out what the creature was. “No. I don’t know, but it sounded bigger than a frog.”

His assessment did little to eliminate the possibilities of the creature’s identity, but for the sake of survival, he had no intention to find out. He swept his gaze for the shape of a nearby log or a rock, anything they could use as a perch. Because right now, Rat was tired of moving through mud. His legs were sore from wading, and its damp, thickness began to weigh on his pelt. At the corner of his eye, he spotted a thin, fallen branch floating in the water. He doubt it could carry his entire weight, much less the weight of the other cat, but they could use the branch for support.

The problem was that it was at least two tail-lengths away. A pain to move through the mudwater already, but the heat of burning time was eating at his anxieties.

“There’s a branch ahead of us that we could use to speed up our movement,” said Rat coolly, nodding his head in that direction. “Or at least, the chance to catch our breath.”

He paused and then gave the cat a good look, squinting again at the shadows, noting their muscular build and scarred fur. He could recognize another fighter anywhere, even under dim moonlight. He could imagine the untold stories behind the scars, stories best left in the past.

His heart lurched when he heard the sound of legs moving through water.