To go where no man has gone before

Beyond the bubbling brook and behind the shaded bushes, scents bloomed forth more strongly than anything from his most vibrant dreams. When it had just been Cherrykit, his siblings, Mama, and the two dark-furred cats, it had smelled of nothing but dust and mold. But now... There were so many scents, and more seemed to come each day. Moss and flowers of all colors, and bright berries and tiny seeds. He saw them, from his corner of camp, when the half-faced tom brought them back. Piles upon piles of flowers. He would set them out on stones in the sun for seemingly no reason, and then take them into his den. Now inside the den- it smelled like much more than just flowers and berries. There was the smell of sick. Vomit and head-colds, blood and mushrooms. But it was so interesting. So full of... Different things to smell! Not like the rest of camp, with its dirt and mange and mud and too many bodies. No, the flower den, as Cherrykit had taken to calling it, was an interesting place.

He'd used to put flowers in his den, when it was only him. Cherrykit would sneak out of camp and run through the marshes, snatching up flowers of white and purple and gold as he played. He would take them home, weaving them into his nest so that he could smell something other than the disgusting stench of his home's intruders. They had always made his dreams so bright and vibrant. He could recall them even now- golden trees and violet skies. Stars that fell from the sky and skipped on ponds like stones. But now, with so many kits in the Elder's Den, Cherrykit could do no such thing. For whenever he hoped to gather something new, one of the furballs would tag after him. And whenever he managed to actually bring anything back, they would always shred whatever he found. He hated sharing his den, and he hated having his flowers ruined. He hated how the den always smelled like kits and mothers, and how it made him miss his own. But she spent all her time in the flower den now, and neither he nor his siblings could see her. 

But that would all change today.

For today, Cherrykit had formulated a plan. A marvelous plan, one that could never fail! From his place crouching behind the largest stone in camp, he watched. Orange eyes sneaky and hopeful, patched tail twitchy and nervous. He had to watch. He had to wait. Because soon, if all his calculations and observations were correct... Ah, yes! There he went! The half-faced tom was leaving the flower den. And he was going right out of camp! Now was his chance! Cherrykit could barely contain himself as he watched the tom leave through the matted wall. His heart was absolutely jittery. He waited one moment- two, after he was sure that the tom had really disappeared, before diving across camp. He crossed the clovery earth in as few strides as he could- trying to be both quick and inconspicuous. This was a secret. Just like sneaking out of camp or trying to hide the flowers in his nest. 

But he made it! Hopping over the stream and out of sight like a rabbit to it's burrow. And when he finally immersed himself fully, Cherrykit was absolutely overwhelmed.

He'd thought that the scents were strong before. He could smell the clover and dried leaves from the center of the clearing. The wrinkled flower petals and smooth berries and that sour scent of sickness. But inside... It was something else all together. Scents crashed together in a melody, surrounding him on every side and nearly lifting him. It made the tom almost lightheaded. Some scents he recognized, some he didn't. The white flowers that grew around the edges of camp. The bright violet buds of dried clover flowers. And old, mangled leaves what had been there long before any of these cats had arrived. The sour smell of illness was nauseating. It smelled like crowfood and vomit, and as he looked to the edge of the den, he could see why. 

Cherrykit almost stepped back, golden eyes wide with shock. Cats lay, packed like prey in the fresh-kill pile. Side by side, too close for comfort and yet there wasno room for them to move anywhere else. Everything in here was so crowded. Flowers and fronds hung drying from the brambles of the ceiling, and the mossy den floor was stained with poultices and ill. Makeshift shelves, lined with long leaves, held more kinds of berries and flowers than Cherrykit had ever seen. There were so many colors- so many scents- so much bright. It took Cherrykit several seconds to even register what he was seeing. And even then, it was impossible to register absolutely everything.

But he would have time. The half-faced tom left the den almost every day around this time until the sun had moved a few claws down the sky. So if his calculations were correct... He would have a whole lot of time to look around and explore all he liked. And maybe even snag a few flowers! The possibilities were almost endless, and it sent Cherrykit's heart soaring with nervous anticipation. And excitement. Lots of excitement. Plus, any chance to get away from that obnoxious Elder's Den was a Starsend.

He would start off with the cats. He had known that cats were in here, but he hadn't realized just how many. They slept on one large communal nest of plush moss. Had he even seen some of these cats before? One, two, three, four... There were so many, and they were so packed up that it was hard to tell. And they all smelled terrible. Cherrykit put one paw on the nest tentatively. Ew. Sticky. But... Where was Mama?

Cherrykit looked over the bodies. Grey... Grey pointed- like Gullkit! But a she-cat... four brown tabbies.. a white and gray tabby... And...! Golden! Amber eyes grew wide and Cherrykit shuffled his paws. Mama! She was there! Why... hadn't she said hello? Cherrykit moved around the nest to see her. She was tucked right at the edge, splayed out with paws grasping for nothing. Something icey wormed its way into Cherrykit's heart as he walked around, coming to face her. She was sleeping. Eyes clothed and breath shallow, her fur was dull and matted. She looked so... different. It began to dawn on Cherrykit that he hadn't truly seen his mother in nearly a moon. And she'd been like... This. Cherrykit reached out, paw hovering over her for a moment. He just wanted to- .... No. He should.. Let her sleep. Snot crackled the edges of her nose and something foul collected in the corner of her mouth. It wasn't.. Something was wrong, and Cherrykit didn't like it. Maybe he should just go.

But no.

Cherrykit had waited days to get in here.

He would not be scared off so easily.

Pulling away from his mother, he resisted the urge to rub his face against hers. Even if she'd been gone for so long, she was still his mother, but... He didn't want to... Catch whatever she had. Cherrykit turned, heading further back into the den. Maybe he would bring her a mouse later he thought, ducking behind some hanging lichen. She might like that. And if he caught something when he was training with Patchpaw tonight... That would be even better! But for now, exploration. For now, flowers. For now, experiencing the present and enjoying the freedom that he had when nobody was around that could tell him what to do.

Cherrykit bounced through the stores, sitting on his hind legs at times to see the highest shelves. There were so many different things. So many scents. So many tastes in the back of his nose that he just wanted to reach out and bite. But Cherrykit knew better. Even if he couldn't do some things like other cats did, he wasn't an idiot. No matter what some cats might think. And oh, he might not be able to communicate like they did, but he could tell that they definitely thought he was. By how they looked at him, and how they treated him. Like he was as dumb as the little babies that were in the nursery now. But he would show them... When he and Patchpaw finished their training and he was the strongest cat in the forest, he would show them all. But for now, he would just show them his cleverness. And show himself around the flower den.

Some of the things he did recognize. Honeycomb, fresh and bright golden, sat still glistening on one of the highest shelves. He remembered, once. How the black she-cat had brought he and his siblings a tiny bit once, moons ago. She was dead now. One of the few cats he'd grown up with- she'd been like a second Mama sometimes. Never as good as the real one- but she'd been there. And there was a... hole in his heart, now that she was gone. Sometimes Cherrykit wondered whether their real Mama would leave too. 

He tried not to think about it.

He remembered his favorite clover flowers of course. Their beautiful bright purple, so sweet to the taste. He wouldn't eat them- but he might snag a few just to keep. Their home had used to be full of them, and he'd loved to munch on them after eating. Now that it was colder- and the half-faced tom had picked them all- they'd seemed to have vanished. He recognized too, the wide-leafed white to pink flowers that were shaped and colored so beautifully. Eating those always made his stomach feel better when he was sick. Once Mama had brought a whole bunch back home, and he and his siblings had played in them all day. So many of these flowers were familiar- and yet so many Cherrykit had never even scented before. Half were shriveled and rotted, but there were still so many different sorts. Where did the half-faced tom get all of them, he wondered?

Nosing through the different piles and stacks, Cherrykit pulled out a flower every now and then. This was pretty, this smelled nice, Patchpaw would like this one, this one was one that he liked to put in his nest, and this one was clover. Nose nose, sniff sniff. Curious eyes and handling so gentle for a tom his age. But Cherrykit knew that you had to be gentle with things that you liked, and only mean with the ones you didn't. And he liked flowers, just like he liked his family. And having this sort of privacy for once! Even though there were sick cats right over there... Cherrykit shook his head. They weren't looking at him with pitying or scorning eyes, and they weren't ordering him around or taking up his space. If anything, he was taking up theirs. Even if... This was still his home in the first place. Whatever. Cherrykit returned to his picking- but he found now that one scent in particular caught his nose. Sharp, bitter but enticing. And familiar- in that sort of distant, odd way. Like deja vu.

It was well hidden. Not just any cat might have spotted it. Naked to the eye, tucked away deep within the leafy den's walls. Cherrykit crouched, peering through the foliage for the source. It took him several moments of searching to even catch a glimpse. But there- he found it. A hole, on the lowest corner of the den behind the lichen. Dusty with cobwebs, but there was darkness behind. And something red. Cherrykit squinted, trying to get a better look at what he was seeing before reaching a paw in. It was dug out- deliberately? A little hole in the side of the hillface, just behind the deepest walls of the den. And inside, behind moss and leaves and cobwebs... Cherrykit reached a dainty paw in, pulling out the coverage bit by bit. Until he found...

Berries. Bright and red, some shriveled, some freshly gathered. But there were so many. Cherrykit blinked, but did not touch them. For he recognized the smell. Tasty though they looked, Mama had always warned them away from those berries. Urged them not to eat them, and had punished him severely once when he'd nearly disobeyed. They'd looked so good- but they were dangerous. The half-faced tom fixed cats who were hurt though, didn't he? Why did he have-

The wind shifted, and terror shot through Cherrykit's spine.

He'd thought- he'd thought he would have more time! How had he not noticed earlier? The scent of the flowers and leaves was so overpowering, it had wiped away all sense of direction and wind. It had wiped away everything except for his curiosity. Cherrykit hadn't even accounted for the fact that the half-faced tom could have come back early. He'd been planning this for so long, and yet- and yet-. But now, it was too late. His shadow had fallen on him, bathing the hindmost area of the Medicine cat's den in darkness. Cherrykit whipped around, expecting brutal punishment from such a heavily scarred beast of a cat. He had been training with Patchpaw. He could take anything this cat did to him. He clenched his teeth, flattened his ears, and hissed. But his tail was tucked tightly between his legs when he finally raised his eyes to meet the tom's one amber.

And that one amber was hard. Fierce and intense as a blazing sunset. He strode forward, knocking Cherrykit away from the stores with a rough swipe of the paw. As easy as knocking a mouse from the fresh-kill pile. Cherrykit reeled, rolling away roughly and stumbling into the earth. He'd been too fast- how was a cat that big so fast? The half-faced tom crouched quickly, restuffing the hole and looking over his stocks. Meanwhile Cherrykit struggled to regain his footing, still recovering from the harsh blow. His claws had been sheathed, but his head still spun. The black cat- and his surroundings as a whole- were a blur to him as he sat there dazedly. He could see the tom moving from shelf to shelf frantically, pawing through the supplies as though he weren't even there. Cherrykit blinked slowly as his eyes began to refocus.