Chapter Text
Sandstorm knew it would happen eventually, as soon as she saw the Lizard-Things claws for the first time she knew they were trouble. She didn’t think it was just skill that led her to catch them without any injury, it was probably a bit of luck too. It was an unusually large one of an already unusually large brand of lizards Fireheart encountered, it probably could have happened to her as well.
She gave Firehearts wound a little glance again, she had made sure to clean it thoroughly, Whitestorm had insisted Spottedleaf show her how to do that on one of her first days of training, she hadn’t understood why of course, but Whitestorm and Redtail had insisted it be one of her and Dustpaws first lessons, but now she was extremely grateful she learned that. She had made sure to clean it with care, she was no medicine cat, but she thought she did well enough. That did not stop her from continued and occasional glances at his leg to make sure it was ok, she hadn’t realized how stressed his injury had made her before, she was all too used to being alone. Fireheart was her connection to their warrior ancestors in Starclan, and moreover, he was a friend.
She didn’t know exactly when she began to see Fireheart in a more friendly light, it was some time after he…saved her from falling into the gorge. It was not an instant process, it took her a couple of sunrises to confront she had a growing respect for the flame-colored tom, and even longer for them to realize some sort of friendship. Now that they were stranded, however, she felt bad for the Tom as well, knowing he had been carrying the burden of truth about Tigerclaw for so long. He was a loyal cat at heart, she could see that, and she hated that she couldn’t see it earlier at a time when he dealt with other cats who would say nothing more kind to him then mock him over being a kittypet.
“Sandstorm.” Fireheart said, “I’m getting thirsty.”
She snapped out of her thoughts and faced the Ginger-colored tom yet again. “We just had a drink!” She exclaimed
“Yeah, but then we went on that hunt, and came back here, and we’ve been sitting here for awhile…” Fireheart said, Sandstorm huffed, grooming herself by licking her paw and drawing it over her forehead.
“Are you sure you’re even capable of making the trip to the stream?” Sandstorm asked, her voice betrayed her concern, and she knew that. She knew there wasn’t much alternative if Fireheart really needed water, the typical ‘soak a ball of moss’ wouldn’t work here since she hadn’t seen much of that so far.
Fireheart nodded grimly, “I think…I think I can make it that far.”
Sandstorm gave a sigh, “Alright then…but we have to be quick, you can’t do any running if we find something that doesn’t agree with us.”
“So I’m helpless.” Fireheart sighed, Sandstorm wanted to say otherwise, she really did, but this was a harsh world as they’d collectively come to discover, and if they encountered one of those Sabre-Fangs…
She pushed that thought aside, the wind was flowing downstream, if it had followed them they’d smell it. Fireheart could still walk, he just couldn’t put weight onto that leg.
“You are not helpless.” Sandstorm said, moving closer to him. “You’re a brave cat, Fireheart, even with an injured paw you could still claw up something pretty bad, I’d bet.”
Fireheart purred, “How much prey would you bet on that?”
“I have no prey to bet.” Sandstorm said, gesturing to the Lizard-Thing Fireheart had caught, “This was your catch, but I would be willing to bet whatever I catch next.”
“Lets hope I don’t win that bet then.” Fireheart said, “We shouldn’t be fighting anything at all in my condition, let's hope today doesn’t get any more eventful.”
Sandstorm knew he was right, but still gave him a sarcastic “Heh!” as they left the safety of their crevice. The air was hot, increasingly hot, she really did think at this point she could burst into flame at any moment. Fireheart walked surprisingly well, given his injury, and Sandstorm was impressed. She did have to push against Fireheart to support him when he faltered, but that wasn’t often. It wasn’t even the first time he’d impressed her so far in the past few moons, either.
When they reached the stream, she made sure to take frequent drinks as well. She couldn’t possibly blame Fireheart for anything at this point, the heat was searing. Her gaze followed the stream as it curved into the distance, disappearing behind a bend covered with ferns. The Stream would almost certainly dry up, she could see that now Fireheart had been completely right, and it was only a matter of time before they had to move. There was a clear damp area on the pebbles next to the stream that indicated the water level was falling, after all.
“Do you think there are any fish in here?” She asked Fireheart.
“Too shallow.” Fireheart responded, “Besides, we aren’t Riverclan, I don’t think we’d catch any if there was.”
Sandstorm shrugged, “Food is food.”
“Food is food only if we catch it.” Fireheart corrected, “Fish in a stream do us no good unless it's in our bellies.”
She nodded, “Let's get back to the shelter for now, we are good on food for the day.”
She nudged Fireheart back from the stream, “Let’s go.” She told him, she made sure he stayed steady on his paws, and remarkably he did without much assistance, despite his limp he only needed her to steady him once.
When they returned to lay in their respective nests, Sandstorm took notice of clouds building on the horizon. These were towering stormclouds, more intense than any she had ever seen, stretching into the sky impossibly high and casting dark shadows on distant mountains.
“More rain.” Fireheart meowed, “Great, that means we can stay here a little while longer.”
“It also means it’ll be cooler, hopefully.” She agreed, she hoped the rain kept the Sabre-Fangs away as well, although she didn’t voice that concern, Fireheart knew as well as she did that thing was still out there, and could reasonably be following or stalking them.
They lay in silence for a few awkward moments, watching the clouds slowly drift closer
“So, uhhh…” She heard Fireheart try and initiate a conversation, she turned towards him, curious as to what he was going to say.
“Graystripe.” Fireheart said hastily, “Opinions on him.”
Odd Subject. Sandstorm thought, “He’s a good warrior, I think.” She said, “He is out of camp a lot though, and he seems to not bring back as much fresh-kill as he should, but he is a loyal cat at heart.” Her words were honest, but Sandstorm noticed that she caught a look of nervousness in Firehearts eye, and she wondered what made him that way.
“What are your thoughts?” She asked, “On him, y’know…you guys aren’t as close as you used to be.”
Fireheart sighed, a long sigh that made her tense, “Graystripe has been…different lately, distracted to say the least.”
“I’ve noticed.” She said, “What is he distracted by?”
Fireheart took an even longer time to answer that question, “Personal things, things I do not approve of and have decided to not pry into further for both our sakes.”
She nodded, “You two are still friends at least, right?”
“Yes…” Fireheart meowed “Just a rough patch, for now.”
“Better than what I could say with me and Dustpelt.” Sandstorm said sadly.
“You and Dustpelt?” Fireheart gasped, a bit shocked, “You two have been inseparable forever!?”
“We’ve had some arguments lately.” She said, “After the Gorge, he seemed pretty insistent on keeping up with his bullying of you, I told him to knock it off one day, and he asked If I was going to side with a kittypet, I told him I was siding with a Clanmate…it got a bit more heated, and things aren’t really the same anymore.” She sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it any more, Dustpelt has some growing to do, I think.”
“We all do.” Fireheart said, she smiled a bit, he was right about that for sure.
“I guess we do.” She meowed.
The Inostrancevia did not spend the day simply lounging around, although she did not make great progress in tracking the strange intruders either. She had gotten distracted by the extremely enticing opportunity of a Lone Spike-Back wandering around, an older elder of its species. It was large, but obviously very weak. It clearly hailed from the lands of the great desert, a nearly endless space that filled much of the mainland; there were occasional oases inside, but those were disappearing. A lot of the Spike-Backs and other plant-eaters often made crossings to the more lush areas near the coast, including through the floodlands. This involved, unfortunately, crossing through the grand deserts, which stretched on seemingly forever. Many Spike-Backs did not survive this journey, and those who did came through in far reduced numbers to those before. So often were these crossings made that some lone predators could thrive out in the desert hunting them alone, although she would not dare endanger her kits by getting near the endless dunes.
She made a soft sound to her mate, a mix of something reptilian and something more mammalian, a low sound typically used to grab the attention of her fellow Sabre-Fang. Her mate understood the gesture, both of them nudged the kits individually until all three of them followed them. They would have to hunt someday, and a demonstration was in order. They would sit back and watch as their parents performed their little hunt.
The Inostrancevias crept closer to the Spike-Back, it noticed them, it became distressed. It began to try and escape, although its legs could not carry it away anywhere near fast enough. It stumbled, sprawling in the hard sand. She lunged, her mate beside her, she saw him turn and flank him from the other side. Larger Sabre-Fangs like herself typically did not pack hunt, although obviously mates and on occasion younger kits still bound by family did hunt together.
It didn’t take long for this particular hunt to come to its end, the Spike-Back, weak and old tried to reposition itself away from her mate, driving its vulnerable next right towards her. What followed next was the circle of life incarnate, her teeth silencing its throat and granting her family of kits another day of survival.
The feast lasted long, they were hungry, and the food was plenty. As the day dragged on, they lounged around next to the carcass. She felt she could sleep forever, but that was not to be, for she heard a curious rustling behind her, followed by the sounds of chewing. She looked towards her kits, they were sleeping in a pile between her and her mate, who himself was sleeping. She glanced at all 3 of them, Sabres like her species did not typically have too much diversity in patterns, the males had some colorful fur-like hairs typically to attract a mate, although both male and females could support their own unique stripes and spots, although never too colorful. The kits sported a small mix of colors, mostly sandy brown with lighter stripes and spots, nothing too extreme.
What interested her, however, was that her entire family was right there in front of her, and something else was chewing at their carcass.
She turned around, her claws digging at the dust until she saw that an intruder had indeed tried to stake a claim to her meal, a Small-Sabre. A Primal form of anger flooded through her as she let out a roar at the creature, it turned tail and ran, scampering off to hide behind the corpse.
More anger, she placed her paw on the corpse, then the other forepaw, balancing partially on top and looking down at the Small-Sabre. She let out a snarl, and it scampered off, its red-leathery skin vanishing into the distance. She looked where it ran, it was heading towards the floodlands, towards wherever those creatures of Fire and Sand were heading.
She settled back down in her sleeping spot, they would sleep until the storm came, and they’d head back to their cave and weather it, as they always had.