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| - ❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅ — Imagine Dragons, Bleeding Out EVERLY'S face pales drastically when she sees the wolves standing outside our hiding place. I remember what she told me about the pack killing her entire family, and I realize she's frozen with fear. Instantly, a plan begins forming in my mind. My first thought is to throw her at the wolves and run for it, but as appealing as this is, it's not fully logical. First of all, there's no guarantee that one little cat will keep the entire pack busy; some of them are bound to go after me instead, and as good shape as I'm in, even I can't last against a wolf. Second of all, there is some part of me that is quietly reflecting on the fact that Everly saved my life. Twice. It's a very small part of me, of course, but it's also persistent. It seems beyond callous to force her to her death after that. Not that I preach morality above survival or anything. But believe it or not (no one does) I'm not without a code of any sort. I know that every other cat, every "normal" cat with a soft, wishywashy heart and a whiny insistence on drawing countless lines between right and wrong, thinks of me as a complete psycho. But I am, despite being born to be an assassin, not a coward. So I don't suggest anything macabre immediately, although Everly seems to decide I'm about to and immediately backs away, so that she's almost part of the wall behind her. "What do we do?" she asks quietly. "What makes you think I know?" I ask sharply. "The wolves never come up the mountain, I told you that. I've never dealt with this before." I study her carefully. "You're the one whose had the closest encounter with them between us. And you're still alive. So how did you do it? How did you escape when your family didn't? How'd you hold them off?" Her eyes go dark with pain. "I told you, I didn't. I took coward's flight, and I hid in a tree." "Not right away," I say knowledgably. When she gives me a puzzled look, I say, "You didn't let me drown, and you helped me get to safety--and we don't know each other at all, and you have no reason to want me alive. Do you honestly expect me to believe that you abandoned your own family without trying to save them?" "What does it matter whether I tried to save them?" she says bleakly. "I didn't succeed." I growl. "It matters because the techniques you used might help us now!" Outside, an impatient wolf snarls loudly, sending snow spewing into the den. Everly flinches. I glance out and see that most of the pack has decided to wait it out, lying in the snow with watchful eyes, knowing we'll have to come out sooner or later. They're going through a lot of trouble to kill a couple of measly cats. I wonder why. "Fine, fine," Everly says. She looks nauseous at the thought of reliving the morning, but dutifully begins, " It's not a very big pack, so I thought I could like... you know, at least distract them long enough for us to escape. I grabbed a rocks in my jaws and slammed them against the wolves' legs so they'd fall down in the snow. My sister and I ran with a dead vine in our jaws and entangled one. Whenever I could, I'd aim for and scratch at their eyes--I managed to gouge out the eyeball of one." She shudders. "Wolves are built for the chase. You don't have a hope of outlasting them in stamina or speed, so I think the best thing is to be on them or under them. Grab onto a place on their back where they can't reach, or get under their paws and trip them up." She pauses. "But none of that will get us to safety. It looks pretty bad for us," she says somberly. I look at her thoughtfully, and then get up. "I've been training my entire life for combat. This is just another challenge." She frowns. "But you've never faced wolves before." Laughing coldly, I say, "No, but I've met the next scariest creature in the world." Greer's face flashes across my mind. "I'll consider this a level up." "Okay," says Everly dubiously, throwing me a look she must reserve for crazy cats who have never actually faced off against wolves but think they can. "Let's do this then." I give her a crooked grin and nod. We take a quick moment to confer and finalize our plans. Then, simultaneously, we get up and make our way forward. I'll give her this: Everly doesn't back down. She's trembling as she stands next to me, but her eyes are narrow and almost black with concentration. "What are you thinking?" I mutter absently, most of my attention on the wolves outside, waiting for the right moment to make our move. "I'm thinking that dying wouldn't be so bad," she says. I raise my eyebrows at that, but she doesn't elaborate. I can guess, though: she would rejoin her family if she died. "Get ready," I say--most of the wolves aren't watching the entrance now. I take a long moment to memorize everything I can. There are four wolves. One of them has his eye clawed out--Everly's handiwork, I assume. Two are smaller than the others; they must be younger, and they'll be easier to frighten off. Give them something painful to remember us by and they might decide not to risk injury for a fight that isn't even going to pay off in a good meal. The other two will be harder to fool, especially old One-Eye. He looks wily, and he has a motive: revenge. "You take the smaller wolves. I'll take One-Eye," I mutter out of the corner of my mouth. Everly nods almost imperceptibly. Neither of us say what we're both thinking--that that still leaves one wolf absolutely free to attack at leisure, that we're outnumbered and outsized and completely out of our league. "Stick to the plan," Everly says with fake confidence. It's mostly her plan, and though it relies heavily on my size and athletic ability, I have to admit I wouldn't have thought of it myself. She's smart, and she sees things like no other cat I've ever met. It's a bit disconcerting, but if it pays off, I won't complain. "On three," she says. "One, two-" "Stop counting!" I say, so loudly that the wolves all look up at us. "Dirt." Everly doesn't stop to yell at me. "Go!" she yells, dashing out of the opening without even looking to see if I'm following. Cursing myself and Greer mentally, I run out into the cold night and spring at One-Eye. I kick him in the face and plant my back legs on his forehead, digging my claws in as I use his skull as a springboard to launch me directly onto his back. Another wolf, the other adult, sees me on One-Eye's haunches and springs at me. I dance from One-Eye's back to her's, and she ends up closing her jaws on One-Eye's pelt. The male wolf lets out a roar of rage and attacks his packmate. As they grapple on the ground, a shriek pierces the air. It looks like Everly's game is up. One of the younger wolves has run for it, but the other one has her in his jaws. Before I can contemplate helping her out, there's a rumbling in the ground. The sheet of snow and ice that we've been standing on is trembling under the weight of the wolves and the sustained impacts of our fight. There's a roaring sound, and One-Eye and the she-wolf go down in a mini-avalanche of snow that skids down the mountain towards the fir trees. Within seconds, they're lost to sight. The remaining juvenile wolf flings Everly to the side--she lands on a thin spire of rock that's already shaking from the commotion--and tries to run for it, but he's too heavy; the snow shudders and slides off the mountain under him and sweeps his legs out, carrying him downhill in a chorus of yelps that fade out as the avalanche gains momentum. He's dead for sure, I decide, but I doubt that One-Eye or the adult she-wolf are. Everly screams again. I turn and see that she's clinging to the edge of a narrow bone of rock jutting out from the mountain. Above her and around her, the snow is getting ready to fall. When it does, it'll surely swipe her right off her precarious position. To get her, I'd have to lean out and neatly pluck her off the rock, then swing back without letting either of us plummet to our deaths, and without touching the snow and triggering an early fall. "Everly," I snarl, not sure if she can hear me. "You better make this easy as possible, because I'm not wasting my strength." I gather my weight in my haunches, and leap for the rock spire she's clinging to. I land as lightly as I can, using all my training to muffle the impact as much as possible. I grab the scruff of Everly's neck. My voice muffled, I say, "Use your strength. When I say jump, jump." She's crying. I can feel her small body shaking against me, and I hiss in frustration, struggling to cling to the rock. "Why are you doing this?" she says. It's not a grateful Aw, why are you helping me? She sounds angry. "Just let me die. Let me fall. I want to see my parents, I want to see Juniper and Starlight." I roll my eyes. "You could've mentioned that before-" I freeze. The snow's about to fall. Jagged, frozen clumps of it begin to rain down on us, and within seconds the avalanche will have knocked this piece of rock clean off the mountain. It's now or never. "Jump!" I bellow, and launch us sideways. Snow comes down in a white cloud, but it misses us. For a second, I think we're going to make it. Then I realize that I've miscalculated: I haven't jumped with enough power to carry both Everly and I to safety. My first thought is to drop her into the chaos of snow beneath us, but before I can, she digs her claws into me, choosing this inopportune second to hang on. Then she comes to life. She lunges for a ledge of safety, and her added momentum sends us sprawling onto the rock. I land absolutely absymally (Greer would've had a heart attack), face-first with my chin scraping along the ground. Everly lands half-beneath me, and I roll off her as she lets out a choking sound. She gets to her feet. The cut by her ear is bleeding again, dyeing half her face red. The gash on her foreleg is reopening and oozing something dark and nasty. But her eyes are no longer black with desperation or sadness. It's like life has reignited inside her for the moment, and in the moonlight, I can see that her irises are a hazel mix: pale golden-brown rings the outside, then darkens to the color of earth, and then finally, a band of deep forest green around her pupils. "So much for killing yourself," I say, spitting rocks out of my mouth. I eye them resentfully and feel the inside of my mouth carefully with my tongue, wondering if I accidentally spit out any of my teeth. Gingerly, I get to my paws and try to shake off the ache resounding through my bones and muscles. Bad idea. It just amplifies everything, so that I feel like screaming from the agony. I don't want to show that kind of vulnerability in front of Everly, but I can't help it. I buckle to the ground and begin desperately: "One. Two. Three. Four. Five..." It takes a long time before I can reopen my eyes. Everly is watching me curiously, but she says nothing. She doesn't ask why I reacted so volatiley when she offered to count to three before we launched our attack on the wolves. Instead, she says, "I'm coming with you." "What?" I say blankly. "Wherever you're going. The Snow Guard. Maybe they can help me." I shake my head. "It's your vigil." I begin trudging up the mountain. It's a long, awful trek, made worse by the knowledge that I'll have to face Greer at the end of it. As the peak of the mountain comes into view, though, I realize something's different. There's a crowd outside the main entrance to our home. Cats of every color are milling about. Three cats stand above the others, shouting orders hoarsely, trying to get everyone to settle down. One of these cats, a lithe golden she-cat, leaps off her perch atop a rock and walks over to me. "Lucifer," she says briskly. "Where have you been?" "I-" "Never mind that," she says. "There were wolves on the mountain tonight." "I know, Moonstar," I tell RiverClan's leader irritably. "We fought them." I gesture to Everly and my own injuries. Moonstar's brow wrinkles as she studies us. "Greer's prized weapon got hurt? Won't she be proud?" I ignore the dig. "You, Shadowstar, Blackstar, and all your brats. To what does the Snow Guard owe the pleasure?" I say frostily. "We evacuated, you fool. We're sitting ducks down there, just waiting for the wolves to ravage the camps and devour us all. The view's better up here; you can see everything, and you've got caves to hide in. Plus, this is your job. The Snow Guard was created to protect the Clans." "Yeah, but we're not a feed-and-board service," I mutter angrily. After fighting off a pack of wolves, I'm in no mood for Moonstar's bile-talk. I scan the assembly of cats and realize I've never seen so many in one place before. "Wait a minute. Is this all of RiverClan, ForestClan and SnowClan?" "Yes. All except Foxthroat of ForestClan, apparently. He went missing." Moonstar's grave eyes leave no doubt as to what his fate must have been. The Clans aren't actually as big as you might think. Thorn Mountain simply lacks the resources to support a large group. The biggest Clan, SnowClan, has only seven warriors, not including Blackstar--and they have no apprentices (young cats who are training to be warriors--yeah, it sounds pretty stupid to me too, I don't get the Clans very well for someone who's sworn to protect them). Foxthroat's death must be a blow to ForestClan, who have three apprentices but only four warriors--they're down to three warriors now. RiverClan has five warriors, but from the worry plain on Moonstar's face, I know she's worried as to how she's going to keep even that number alive. "Hey! Everyone rank up! Quit acting like fools!" Greer. Fear courses through me. "Is that the leader of the Snow Guard?" Everly whispers. "Yeah," I whisper back. More commanding than any of the Clan leaders, Greer steps forward. The sun has begun to rise, and it glitters on her beautiful silver pelt. Her cold mint green eyes sweep over the crowd. When her gaze locks with mine, I get a horrible notion of what it must be like for other cats to look at me. Even without her saying anything, I get her message: I'll deal with you later. Then, as the other Clan cats have scrambled to do her bidding, she steps back from the entrance. "Get inside," she says. "It's time for all the cats of Thorn Mountain to convene." SnowClan, RiverClan, and ForestClan cats all file in obediently. Shadowstar, Blackstar and Moonstar head the lines, but there's no mistaking who's really in charge here. I see a few Snow Guard cats standing outside and supervising: Jett, Sasha (looking paler than I've ever seen her before, which is saying something), Turner, and a stone-gray she-cat named Ruta. After the Clan cats have gone inside, Greer turns to all of us. "I don't want any of you talking to the Clan cats till I tell you you can. Go up to one of the storage chambers and stay there till I summon you. Ruta, you're in charge. Make sure no one misbehaves." She breaks off, looking at Everly. "Who's this?" she says sharply. "I- My family's dead, I need shelter-" Everly says in a pleading voice. "Ugh. I don't have time to deal with this now. Take her up with you," Greer says dismissively. Everly whimpers and falls silent, but I think I see a hint of something smug in her eyes, and I realize that she's not quite as vulnerable as she just pretended to be. She's realized that letting Greer think her stupid and scared out of her wits is much safer than appearing confident or intelligent. Wise move. Never let Greer expect anything of you. She never stops taking. Greer raises her chin and puts on a false smile. "Gotta quell the panic of those featherbrain warriors, eh? Blackstar's been clucking about how they'll all be dead by tonight if we don't do something. We can only hope and wish, huh?" Everly shifts uncomfortably. Jett lets out an awkward, sycophantic laugh. "Oh." Greer looks directly at me. "I want to talk to you later." I leer at her malevolently. "Looking forward to it," I say. She sets her jaw back into that oily smile and slips into the cavern. I hear her voice, calming and confident, ring out as she speaks to the Clan assembly. Jett leads the way for the rest of us, up to one of the larger storage chambers in a corner of the tunnels. "I'll go round up the others--Miko's still in his den, and a few are asleep," says Jett. "Don't know how long Greer'll keep us here, so I'll get some prey too." "When you get back," says Everly. "We'll tell you all about what happened. Me and Lucifer." Jett glances at me, then looks away quickly. It's clear he's thinking, Lucifer isn't about to tell us anything. But he gives Everly a stiff smile, as if pitying her for not knowing how things work around here, and ducks out. Everyone else clusters on one side of the den. It's clear that being in a small chamber with me is making them nervous, and I guess they reckon there's safety in numbers. I snort to myself. It's like Blackstar said, we'll all probably be dead by tonight. What do I care about anyone else?
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