Chapter 7: A Tunnel with a Surprising Destination (Malec)

                                    

                                          

******Sparkpaw's POV******
                          
She didn't realize just how empty the moorlands truly were in her dream. Now that she was padding through WolfClan's territory for real, she could see that there were hardly any trees or much in the way of foliage. The few trees that did exist were scraggly, poor homes for squirrels and most birds. 
                          
The grass was springy here, the lack of trees meaning that hardly any leaves were on the ground to cover them. Several of the flowers that grew on the moor were wilted and frost bit. The same was true for the grass here. Frost clung to each blade so that whenever she stepped on one a strike of of cold dampness shot through her paw. 
                          
Another difference between the moor and the forest was the heather growing there. Several different types dotted the moorland with brilliant colors against the gritty sand and wind blown grass. The plants were prickly but a pleasure to look at.
                          
She had right away decided her favorite part the moorlands as Patchfur and Arrowheart follow behind her. The wind was amazing here, powerful gusts surging around her and filling her with a new energy. Without the trees to block the wind the breeze was able to come at full force. 
                          
Sparkpaw relishes in the feeling of it in her fur, having gotten used to the cold it now empowered her as she dashed across the field with her companions hard on her paws. She couldn't recall just how long it took her to get to WolfClan camp though she figures it couldn't be far off. As they ran however, they were caught off guard by what they found. 
                          
*****Patchfur's POV*****
                          
Patchfur smelt them before Arrowheart or Sparkpaw did. The scent of fish and fresh water tickled his nose, reminding him of his former home. His heart aches at the thought of home. The midday patrols would be heading out now; Berrypool would be out gathering herbs as she always did the day after the Gathering. Patchfur would often go with her as the tortoiseshell she-cat still didn't have an apprentice of her own.
                          
Will she have one soon? I won't be around to see it...he frowned. A part of him would give just about anything to go back to MagicClan. It is said that when a cat is away from home, they feel something akin to metaphysical claws in their pelt that were tugging their paws back to where they belong. While he did indeed miss MagicClan, he didn't feel those claws. It made him hopeful that maybe HunterClan really would be his home now.
                          
Whatever the case may be, at least I won't be on my own to figure it out. He found his gaze drifting over to Arrowheart. The young warrior was especially invested in making sure he settles in well with HunterClan. Patchfur could see it clear as day that the Shadowhunter liked him, the question was would Arrowheart do anything about it? 
                          
Normally, the warlock didn't mind making the first move in a relationship, but he could tell Arrowheart would be different. Not that it's a bad thing... As he would be Arrowheart's first real relationship, something Patchfur had never been for another cat, he wants to take things slow with him. He would let the Shadowhunter decide the pace so that way he wouldn't feel uncomfortable. Until then, he was more than happy to be going on a journey with Arrowheart, even if it was just for a mission.
                          
His musings almost kept him from hearing Arrowheart's firm voice calling out 'stop'. He staggers to a halt behind the two Shadowhunters who were right behind a tall clump of heather. The magenta pink flowers tickled his nose to the point he had to hold back a sneeze. Blinking curiously, Patchfur peers from behind Sparkpaw (because compared to Arrowheart the she-cat is a midget...easy to see over) to see what they were staring at.
                          
Three sleek furred warriors shot through the undergrowth, their paws thrumming against the sandy earth. They were chasing a white rabbit. The little creatures red eyes were bright with alarm. Patchfur recognizes the three cats immediately as Thrushfeather, Ferntail, and Twistbelly.