Chapter 18

                                    

                                          
Brindle watched Fawn as she delicately picked at the rabbit he had caught her; prey wasn't too bad on this part of the land. Her ginger-tipped cream pelt rustled softly at the calm breeze blowing from the mountains, alluring eyes half closed as the sweet meat of the kill filled her mouth. The young tom glanced skywards briefly, frowning at the swollen clouds. Fawn followed his gaze and gasped, her eyes fixed on the cloud for a moment. 
                          
"Is it a thunder cloud do you think?" she whispered nervously, looking slowly across to her mate. 
                          
"Yes, I think so. And it looks like it'll burst any second now! Get into the cave, quick!" Brindle yowled as the first lightning streak flashed the sky, a line of terrifying and beautiful white. He made sure Fawn was under the rock, then followed. The Cave was a danger place, and was like a big, smooth rock but is hollow, probably caused to look like it did due to rain, wind and sun. There was a small gap of which the two managed a way to fit through it, sliding on their bellies and pressing everything low. Even then, only the smallest cats could fit. Inside, it had a dipped floor, curved smoothly with a few pebbles around the edges and a pool of water in the middle, about the size of two fully grown rabbits in both ways (length and width), then about half a cat in depth.
                          
"You okay?" Brindle took gentle steps towards his frightened mate, who was curled up tightly, shaking. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. It's just a storm." He soothed lovingly, curling around her and entwining their tails. Fawn brought her head up to rest it on Brindle's back, which was directly in front of her. She closed her eyes and felt his tongue on her ears. "It'll be fine..." he murmured to her. The storm outside though, was very real. It made huge crashes and bangs, striking down anything in its destructive path.
                          
~
                          
Dewdrop huddled into the corner of the Warrior's den, pressing herself against Ferntail, sparkling green eyes wide with terror. They hadn't seen a storm this bad in generations! It continued to lash with rain and streak with thunder for hours on end, none of the cats even daring to take some food from the pile to the side of the clearing. The toms stood bravely glaring into the rain, yet flinching at every cackle of thunder, or every snap of lightning. Buzzpelt was there, standing among the Warriors, his handsome pelt flashing as the light did. Windwalker also stood among the toms, every so often glancing back at Dewdrop. 
                          
Ferntail nudged the ginger cat softly. "Ignore him." she whispered, laying her head down on her outstretched paws.
                          
"Ignore who?" Dewdrop smiled innocently, before looking past to see Darkpelt padding strongly towards them, the tip of his ear gone from the previous fight.  "Oh. Him." she muttered, mimicking Ferntail's action of laying down, except she tucked her paws well under her. 
                          
"Hey. Dewdrop." Darkpelt mewed awkwardly. He sat down beside her, leaning closer. 
                          
"Leave me alone." Dewdrop murmured, turning away from him fully.
                          
"Aw don't blame me for the fight yesterday. I'd never start a war over you, Dewdrop. I wouldn't want to upset you. It was Windwalker! He tormented me, saying you were his and that I should back off... I was sticking up for you like anyone else would. Please? Just give me a chance." Darkpelt lied smoothly. He caught a look from Hazelstorm from across the den that approved of his lies. His sister curled her tail over her nose, keeping one of her eyes open.
                          
Dewdrop hesitated, flicking her ears back and forth. Ferntail was glaring at her with the slightest shake of her head, waving her tail along the ground. "Fine. One chance. But that's it." Dewdrop replied, her slitted eyes returning Ferntail's cold gaze. 
                          
"Larkfeather!" Robinwing called as she passed his den with a skinny squirrel. The she-cat paused and glanced around, her alluring eyes resting on the Clan's medicine cat. "Come in here, we need to talk." the red tom hissed, stepping back into the den, Larkfeather following curiously.