The Clan Renaissance

An Alternate Universe Warriors Roleplay

Nightfall descended upon the reaches of daylight, its wide berth creeping over the silhouetted shapes of trees. The colors turned from sunny greens and yellows to shades of gray. Roots pushed past a barrier of bramble, thistle, and holly, its heart racing as a flash of movement crossed its path. The thorns that pricked at its pelt reminded it of insects crawling through its fur, and the sensation made it shudder. It much preferred the sliminess of worms over the nipping touch of centipedes.

But in all honesty, Roots wasn’t quite sure why they chose to enter the forest. While exploring abandoned and disconnected tunnels at the edge of the moorland, they always saw the outskirts of the forest—dark and looming, like the hurried fluttering of a startled murder of crows. Though the creatures in the forest was definitely not crows, they imagined hearing the echo of a caw! somewhere…

It was after moments of walking around the thicket that Roots realized that it could no longer find an opening back out to the moor. Everywhere its head spun, there was tree in that corner and the next. It didn’t help that, in all of this darkness, all of the trees and shrubs looked exactly the same… And then, sure enough, a thorny branch found its way into its neck fur and caught on, tangling the hairs.

They tried biting off the branch, but as much as they tried twisting their head, their fangs couldn’t reach it. After multiple tries, their neck started to ache from all of the turning and stretching around.

“Hello? Is… is anyone there?” Roots called out, to no one in particular. Oh, what was the point? It should have stayed in the moors, instead of straying to the forest to find this “mine”.

Their heart almost jumped out of their chest when they heard a response from the darkness. Swiveling their ears around, they followed the source of the voice to a cat on the other side of the thick undergrowth. And sure enough, there the cat was, pale eyes blinking at them from the shadows.  
And evidently, based on the harsh tone of voice, the stranger was not too pleased to see it. Roots gulped, hoping it wouldn’t step on a sore paw by accident. The last thing it needed was to incite the anger of cat and get its pelt clawed off. But a wave of comfort eased the tension in its shoulders, knowing that it wasn’t alone.

“I’m, uh… lost! I’ve never, um, been here. To the forest, I mean, and it’s dark, and there are a lot of thorns around, you know. I mean, I’m sure you know, you’ve probably—anyhow, do you know where the exit is?” asked Roots. They sheepishly added, “I’ll be out of your fur if you show me the way!”

Sighing with relief, Roots was glad that despite the stranger’s prickly attitude, they were willing to lend a paw… even if it was with the expectation that it would leave the forest area.

“Yes, I promise I’ll leave,” said Roots, staying true to its word. Obeying the stranger’s command to “hold still”, their whole body stiffened, wincing as a claw neared their fur. They fought against the the fear that wormed its way in their stomach. The moment passed when the stranger snagged the thorn out, and they felt their pelt go lighter. Stretching out their limbs, they tested out their range of motion. They could move, alright.

The other cat was already padding off without it, effortlessly moving out of the way of the thorns. Roots hurried over as fast as it could, tiptoeing over the gnarled bramble branches to reach them, and nearly crashing into another bush. It cried out a, “Wait! Slow down!”

When they finally caught up to the stranger, they padded closely behind, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you.”

They wanted to ask the question that had been hovering in their mind all this time, but something suggested to Roots to wait out the conversation before bringing up the prophecy. Clearing their throat, they turned to the cat. “I’m Roots. What’s your name?”

“Er, Chester is a nice name!” Roots chipped in, but mostly to fill the awkward silence that hung stiffly in the space between the two cats.

As they followed Chester, they noticed he was kicking away gnarled branches and roots for an easier passage. Was he trying to help them? Whether or not it was deliberate on his part, a seed of hope grew in their chest. Perhaps Chester was not as prickly as he seemed? Well, regardless of his demeanor, Roots needed to ask the question burning inside of their head. They were traveling in the forest for a purpose, even if they weren’t very good at it. So far, no stranger had responded poorly to their questioning but there was always a first for everything.

“Would you…” it started gingerly, but its voice was caught in its throat. It cleared it, starting again with more confidence. “Would you happen to know of any… mine? Odd question, I’m sure, but I’m looking for one, and I was wondering if you ever heard of it?”

It suspected as much that Chester wouldn’t take too kindly to answering more questions. Their manner of speaking, and the heavy huff of a sigh gave that much away. But it realized how difficult it would be to articulate what a… mine was. “See, th-that’s why I’m asking you! I’m not sure what a mine is myself, but apparently there’s a shiny stone. Um… A family friend asked to meet me there.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth, but… explaining the dream would be murky territory, and Roots doubted Chester would believe them. Flashing a nervous smile at the bigger tom, they lowered their head and kept quiet the rest of the way, up to the log. Walking through the forest, with its strange twists and turns, it reminded them of moving through a tunnel. The thorns were the dirt walls, and the tree roots were like the roots hanging from the ceiling. The one difference about the forest was perhaps in the fact that one did not follow a path, but they forged their own.

It saw the confidence in which Chester moved through the forest, as if he knew the forest like the front and back of every leaf, and he wasn’t afraid to make his own path if the the trees wouldn’t provide him one. At the log, it carefully leaped up to the log, just managing to reach the top. It wasn’t as clean of a jump as Chester’s, but that wasn’t important. “I wonder what happened to the tree…”

“Unfortunately not. This family friend is very mysterious,” said Roots with a shake of their head. They weren’t about to admit to Chester that they never asked Windstar for directions, though they doubted she would have given them anyway. Based on Chester’s irritation, they decided not to press any further and ask more questions.

“A storm or twoleg?” it asked, tilting its head and glancing at the log. It looked cleanly split, and it didn’t recall any recent thunderstorms. Maybe it was from a long time ago, or maybe it was a twoleg who cut the tree off. It spoke aloud, more for itself than for Chester’s ears. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a twoleg did it. They act very oddly.”

Their ears pricked at Chester’s annoyed tone, asking if Roots had any more questions for him. They raced back to his side, already falling behind. Why did he move so quickly? Based on the scowling expression on his face, the question answered itself. They exhaled a steadying breath. “Er… I do have one more question. If you haven’t seen a mine, have you at least seen a… shiny stone of some sort? Or do you know anyone who might have any information about the questions I’m asking?”

“I was only wondering! I haven’t been to the forest before,” said Roots, pushing aside the unpleasant glances cast upon it. Its ears pinning against its head. How could a cat be so incurious about the world they were living in, Roots would not understand. But it was evident that the more Roots, the more irritated Chester became. It could practically see the hair on the back of his head, standing as tall as the trees that overshadowed them, and it couldn’t parse exactly why. What was so bad about the questions it was asking?

Roots stopped for a moment, searching the treetops for the glimpse of a crow. They occasionally saw
crows flapping above the open plain like small dots in the sky. It was their distinctive caws that made their presence known. But unfortunately, there was not a crow in a sight. A shame. If there was a shiny stone in the forest, they could easily follow where the crows fly. Chester was right about crows being gravitated by shiny objects; oh, why didn’t they think of that before?

It hurried to continue with Chester’s pawsteps again, unwilling to further his irritation by walking too slowly. Its head tilted to the side when he asked a strange question.

”Do I look like someone who talks to others?”

They blinked. Was this supposed to be a trick question? “Well, the forest is big enough. I’m sure you’ve ran into other cats before. Like er… like when you had to chase someone from your… uh, territory maybe? You seem like the sort to get into a scuffle every now and then.”