Trixie Longclaw's Arc

Chapter 10 of 13

By midmorning the clearing was empty, and that was wrong. Trixie climbed back to the oak and found her cats gone. Only Celeste sat in the grass, tail tight around her paws. "My brother went," Celeste said. "He didn't wait. He answered the marks for you." Trixie followed the trail of scuffed earth across the gorge and into thinner woods. She heard them before she saw them — low voices, the shuffle of paws. Half her pack sat in a loose half-ring under a twisted tree, its bark split black by a lightning strike, raw orange wood showing through. Celeste's brother stood at its base. He had clawed the burned trunk hip-high, four lines crossing the scar, and rolled his shoulder against it to leave his scent. The other half of her cats sat across the open ground, waiting. Watching both sides. A clean line cut through the grass between them, a stretch of trampled earth where loyalty had broken in two. Trixie felt the cold weight of it settle in her chest. He had not challenged her. He had simply moved, and they had moved with him. She walked into the gap. The brother did not lower his head. He met her eyes and held them. "You took too long," he said. "Someone had to answer." Trixie's claws slid out against the dirt. She could open his throat here. The watching cats would see it. Some would lower their heads. Some would not. She sheathed her claws instead. "Keep your tree," she said, loud enough for both halves to hear. "Walk back to mine by sundown, or stay here and starve." She turned and left him standing under the burned branches. Behind her, she heard paws begin to move — some toward her, some not. She did not look back to count. The pack was split now, and she had said it out loud.