[Willowfern]

By far, that place of capture had been much more difficult to escape from than the others.
There were tall shiny trees(?), and monsters everywhere. Roosterflame himself had been confined to one of the tall shiny trees, endlessly waiting out his sentence. The only way he’d even gotten free was by biting one of the Twolegs handling him as he was carried to a monster. The cat across the hall had told him that he was being taken to the cutter, a place where no cat came back the same. In his desperate scrabble to not go to the cutter, Roosterflame had spotted an opening and taken it, not caring if the world he was escaping into was more hostile than when he last was in it.
He’d been held up in that tall silver tree for less than a moon, but he felt like he’d been gone for longer. The Twolegplace was cold and scary, and the cats that inhabited it were not soft kittypets, nor were they warriors with codes of honor and nobility. He had been attacked multiple times in his search for Sparrowstar, as he had a fleeting hope for a time that he would find his friend here, but after a half-moon of searching, he’d resolved that if Sparrowstar were here, it’d be impossible to find her.
He didn’t want to, but he’d given up the search, and turned to find home.
Maybe, Whispered his breaking heart, Maybe she’s come back while you were gone.
.
Roosterflame wasn’t hindered by a jingling collar this time, the Twolegs who had captured him hadn’t bothered to give him one. Since his last two captures, Roosterflame had grown much more hostile towards the upwalking creatures. He had refused to cooperate with anything, and that included getting a collar.
Prey was more abundant as new-leaf rolled over into greenleaf, and Roosterflame didn’t starve, but he felt a hollowness in his stomach besides. He missed his home. He missed his clan, his family.
He wondered what had happened in his absence. How was ThunderClan getting on? Was Thrushstar a good leader? Was Bumblebreak doing well as deputy? Hopefully, these things were answered with positives. Roosterflame couldn’t bear to return to his clan with another stranger there to greet him. Not that it had been so bad last time, but that was different. That was Sparrowstar.
He wondered if, in the time that had passed since he’d gone missing, he’d been disgraced. Perhaps ThunderClan didn’t know the truth of his disappearance, and they’d assumed the pressure of being a Keeper had been too much too soon.
He knew this, at least, when he returned, he wasn’t going to be a Keeper anymore, that was evident. He wondered if he had a chance at anything anymore. Probably not. Maybe everyone was glad he was gone.
He didn’t know what it was, but during the day, he felt a little more than drained. He assumed it was the traveling. Yet, at night, he was full of all the energy he should have had during the day. Perhaps it was a side-effect of those artificial lights that had beaten down on him at all hours of the day and night during his time in the large Twolegplace. Maybe he was burnt out from the lights.
He wondered if he’d even be accepted back. He thought about it. If he we’re leader, would he accept someone back after their third disappearance? Especially if they were a Keeper? He knew the answer, yes, of course. Almost everyone deserved another chance. But would Thrushstar think the same? Roosterflame still didn’t know much about the guy, even after having that talk with him in the leader’s den. Who knew how he’d react.
And Bumblebreak, if she was the one handling his rejoining. Would she welcome him back? They were friends, but Roosterflame didn’t know how much weight that held for the newly-appointed deputy. What if she cut him off as someone who did too little, and returned too late?
All those thoughts swirled and eddied in his mind like a rising hurricane as Roosterflame spotted the ThunderClan border on the horizon.
.
The squirrel he had caught just before reaching the border felt like a stone in Roosterflame’s jaws as he made his way through the forest, his ears upwards, his eyes peeled for someone, anyone he knew. Everything seemed well, there were no signs of recent battles, no lost scent of… hm.
Where was the cat scent? He was reaching the camp, but the scent was…
Oh, oh, craaaap.
The camp, the camp was different now, he remembered that much. The sinkholes had taken over, and Thrushstar had moved the clan to a new camp where the old one had been. He remembered that, but what he didn’t remember was where it was.
Shoot.
He pressed his nose to the ground, seeking any lingering cat scent, but found none. This was not good. He had to find the camp, or he’d risk meeting a patrol, and he didn’t want to run across anyone from his clan until he saw a high rank, because he didn’t want to have to learn any bad news unless it was straight from the horse’s mouth because he didn’t know if he’d be able to stand anything else, especially if he heard it from someone who didn’t even know him.
What was he thinking? His mind was wandering to the what-ifs and he needed to stay in the present! Skies! He needed to get himself together, the sadness of losing Sparrowstar was still lingering, and with him being back home, it was increased tenfold. He thought he had healed a bit but no! It was just the gift of distance! Skies!
The thought of Sparrowstar made his mind wander back to the day, a moon ago, where he’d been captured. He’d been out, hunting, and he’d just hidden Sparrowstar’s rose quartz underneath a rotted log.
I hope it’s still there! He thought suddenly, his ears pricking up, his pupils dilating, If someone found and took it, or if it fell into a sinkhole or something, I’ll feel awful!
Roosterflame remembered exactly where the log had been, and he pelted straight to it, praying to whatever afterlife was listening that it would still be there. Lo and behold, he found the log. That was a good start.
He leapt upon it and reached beneath it, feeling a shock of momentary terror when he couldn’t find it. Though, he reached deeper beneath it, and he found it. It was covered in rotting wood, but it was whole, and it was exactly how he’d left it. He cleaned off the rotting wood, and made his way back through the forest, once again on his search for the new camp.
[ @dino. ]