The morning dawned at the Horseplace cold and crisp, the season bordering on leaf-bare as frost stiffened the blades of grass into small spikes that made a desolate crunching sound as it was stepped on, turned brown by the lack of clean water. The harsh scent of the corrupted lake hung heavy in the air, the black sludge visible even from the barn, and the shadows made everything eerier as an odd mixture of clouds, stars, and the slowly rising sun dominated the sky. A stiff wind was blowing from downwind, attempting to chase away the smell of Twolegs and taint to no avail. The shadows of several cats were seen skulking in the dark embrace of the barn, watching and waiting.
"The sun's rising...the others are running late." From the shadows emerged a sturdy ginger tom, a scowl on his face as he opened his mouth in an attempt to scent the coming refugees. His tail lashed before sitting down, only to rise up once more and pace around the entrance of the barn. "Do you think they changed their minds?" He questioned as his paws kneaded the crackling grass, and he managed to rip up large chunks of turf with his claws. The tom's gaze fell on his companions, two lean cats, a tom and a she-cat.
BIRDFLIGHT
The she-cat was the first to respond, her warm green eyes turning from the tiny golden ball of fluff bouncing between her paws toward the kit's father. "They might have just gotten held up by something." She suggested carefully, before continuing with, "We should be patient. They'll get here when they get here. Wearing a track in the grass isn't going to make them come any faster."
GREYNOSE
"Yeah, but you have to think. The cats leaving ThunderClan weren't exactly peaceful last night, and the ones that stayed weren't too happy to see us leave. They might have gotten to our allies and treated them like rouges. News travels like a forest fire with things like this, and the other clans could be waiting at the borders to drive the others out. We've been gone for two nights now, but they decided to stay another day in their camps for some reason. They might even not be allowed to leave." The tom mused, looking over at his former deputy with a measured gaze. He lay near his littermate, curled into a small ball and waving his tail about for the little one to play with.
As he approached the three cats ahead, Darkmask frowned. The stench of ThunderClan was disgustingly overwhelming. He had half a mind to just turn and head back home, but he knew he wouldn't be accepted back there anymore than he would here, so he continued to move towards them. Besides, going back home would mean sacrificing his pride, and that was not an option. "Well," He meowed as he finally reached them. "Fancy seeing you lot here."
The stench of frogs and swamp water soured the air around the tom, and his lips instinctively curl back. ShadowClan had been no friend of ThunderClan's, before or during the famine. He prepared to snarl out a response to the ShadowClan rat, then shook himself, as if clearing his head. None of them had a Clan anymore, technically, and he was trying to guide them north. It wouldn't do to kill one furball before the journey even began. "Imagine that." He replied shortly, figuring any longer return could get ugly. "Any more of your clanmates coming?"
