Lost and Found[Ghost/Kenya + OPEN!]

[sil]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Dbg.png] Diesel yanked the squirming, caterwauling young tom back a few faces. He stopped when he noticed Sledder hadn’t taken the hint and brought the she-cat away as well. Frustration bubbling, the Raider was about to snap at him to hurry up when he caught the telltale indications in Ismo’s posture. He was going to make a move. Diesel turned his head and was met with a face-full of grit and sand. Swearing into the fox-colored tom’s scruff, he scrubbed at his eye with a paw. One of his eyes was already less than perfect from an old injury, and he couldn’t afford losing vision in the other. Through stinging, watery eyes, Diesel watched Ismo pounce on the Fledgling. He cursed his luck. He knew he would have to leave that buffoon behind. Swiftly pinning Star with his paws to free his jaws a moment, he growled out, “Hold him off, you mouse-brained fool!” He hadn’t intended on leaving Sledder, but it was his own blasted fault if he got himself killed. The runt had a snake-like ability to slither out of much worse fights alive. His bleeding, silvery-blue frame was thrown hardly a tail-length away. Part carrying, mostly lugging his captive away, Diesel retreated back into the forest, really moving now. Ismo’s swipes met only empty air. The beige tom was going to regret his actions.

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png] Quinn couldn’t see what was going on with Ismo; she forced herself to remain focused on Star, trying to convey her emotions through her eyes. Try to be calm. Sledder’s weight made it hard to breathe and impossible to part her jaws. Her earlier resistance had cost her, and she could now feel her life steadily leaving her, dripping down her fur and pooling around her. Ismo’s voice reached her. She could hear his conviction, and she willed him the strength to save them. Feeling the weight being thrown off her, Quinn forced herself onto shaky paws. She gasped and trembled with the effort, the corners of her vision bleeding back and red with nausea. She couldn’t move. Star’s cries, calling their names, crying for their help, were sharper than any claws. Grief overwhelming her, Quinn sought out his gaze. “Stay strong, Star!” she yelled with her remaining strength. “Don’t forget who you are! We will find you, no matter where they take you!” She stumbled when she felt her consciousness ebb. Her legs finally gave out from under her and she collapsed to the ground. Huffing erratically, blood loss and pain finally pulled at her, forcing her eyes shut. The Snowshoe she-cat would bleed out soon if her injuries weren’t tended to. Her last sight before blacking out was Ismo tussling with the silver tabby and little Star being hauled away into the shadows… Ismo…

[Kenya]

~Foxkit//Star~

Star struggled and squirmed against Diesel’s jaws. His bright ginger pelt was silhouetted against Diesel’s, glowing in the light like fire. “Let me go!” He yowled, attempting to catch his claw’s in the raiders pelt, but his angle made it difficult. He looked back to his two companions, and angled his ears directly to them. Star caught Ismo’s words though the sound of his own sharp breath filled his ears. be brave and don't give up hope. Star struggled harder against Diesel’s sharp teeth, knowing that neither cat would be able to save him. He understood now, it was him or Quinn. Star moved his eyes to Quinn laying helpless under the silver tabby’s claws. Quinn needed Ismo more than he did.

Star fought against him again and again, each time feeling like his efforts were useless. Finally he let his body go limp in his jaws. I’ll get out of this. I’ll go home. Larksong and Otterpaw will be waiting. He thought, imagining their faces, and their scents. He yearned for the Westclan territory and its prey. Star savored those thoughts for less than a heartbeat. The thought of peace before a loud yowl broke into his mind. Sand clouded and stung his eyes, and Star tried desperately to blink away the painful bit of sand. He heard Diesel say something that Larksong would never approve of and was promptly placed under his large paws while he shouted orders at the other cat. Another yowl slit the air and Star saw Ismo now pinning the silver tom. His side was soaked with blood and looked just how Quinn had.

Ismo clawed again at his face before throwing the tom right before their paws. He felt himself be picked up again and dragged through the forest. Star’s view of the three cats quickly vanished from his sight. He strained his neck to see their pelts but only just caught Quinn’s voice. She was alive! And she promises that they’ll come for me. Where ever he was being taken, he couldn’t imagine anything worse then what he’d seen today. Quinn’s body lying helpless and bleeding in the sand. Ismo brutally attacking Sledder, who was half his size. Nothing could really be worse than that. The shock of the afternoon’s events finally started to wear from his body. In the heat of the day, Star shivered. Optimistic thoughts couldn’t keep the fear from overwhelming him, and only the thoughts of Quinn, Ismo, and Westclan kept him sane. “Where are we going?” He managed to ask in a hushed voice.

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/SLDRbg.png] Sledder flicked his ear back towards Diesel, not quite ready to retreat with their victims yet. His hesitation ended up being his mistake. Ismo’s large paws sent sand flying straight into his eyes. Sledder hissed as it stung and he forcibly blink his eyes trying to regain his sight. Through blurred vision Sledder saw the huge tom lunge at him. The force hit him like teeth to prey. Sharp teeth grabbed his throat and pinned him into the ground. Hissing, Sledder kicked his back claws into Ismo’s stomach but quickly become paralyzed from the new pain ripping through his body. Ismo’s claws raked down his side and then across his face. “Diesel!” He yowled out the raiders name for backup, but his only reply came in the form of orders to fight back. Sledder took in a sharp breath that burned like fire. Maybe being thrown in fire would hurt less than this. Before he had a change to take in another ragged breath, he felt the fangs on him again through his pain. Being lifted, Ismo threw him through the air. Sledder’s body hit the earth with a forcibly impact knocked his world into darkness. His reddened eyes opened a few moments later. He knew he hadn’t been out long when he could still hear Diesel dragged away the kit. At least they still had him. Sledder picked himself up, and hissed at the pain that raged through his body. Craning his head, Sledder examined his pelt. Blood had soaked through so much of his pelt that no cat would even know his real fur color. Forcing himself up through gritted teeth, he staggered into the forest, his back leg dragging a blood trail behind him. “Those cats… are going to regret this.” He gasped through painful breaths. His ribs were obviously cracked and broken like the rest of his body. “I’ll kill you!” He yowled through gritted teeth. The pain was becoming more unbearable with every step. Blood dripped off the cut on his face into his paws. The claw mark started partially on his nose and hooked under his eyes in a ragged arch. A mark that would scar his face until the day he died. “I’ll kill you!” He yowled again collapsing into a patch of ferns a few fox lengths into the woods. The cool feeling of the shadows took away some of the fire in his body and he closed his eyes concentrating on getting enough air to his lungs. He needed rest if he wanted to make it back to raiders run. The bleeding slowed down now that he wasn’t moving, but the pain still wouldn’t die. “Fox dung!” He cursed realizing that Diesels scent was getting further away. Sledder would go back in his own time. Not now. Now he needed to rest. His rage willed him to go on, but his sense kept him still, for now at least.

[ghostwoodwarrior]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] When his desperate strike missed, Ismo's heart sank. He started to give chase as Star was carried away, but then heard Quinn's voice cry out to their kidnapped friend. He stopped and turned back to her just in time to see her fall to the ground. She needed him more than anything. Ismo dropped his head in frustration and swore. "I'm sorry, Star." As he rushed back to Quinn, Ismo noticed the younger tom he attacked slowly limp away. He should have killed him; he still wanted to kill him. But if he didn't act immediately then Quinn could die in the meantime. His survey of her wounds was quick but the sight wrenched at his heart and soul. He needed to stop the bleeding or Quinn wouldn't even survive until night fall. What did father always use after we fought? Yarrow! But no, that wasn't all because that helped keep the wounds clean; something was better to stop bleeding. Damn my memory!...Spider's webs!!! With his recollection complete, Ismo leapt into the brush with his nose pulling in the scents around him in search of the yarrow plant and his eyes scanning for webs. He moved as quickly as his muscles would move him and it wasn't long before he found the plant and brought it back to his wounded friend. But he needed to find webbing to apply first. A scan of the nearby foliage revealed nothing, until movement on the lowest tree branches caught his eye. A long black and gold spider was crawling across its damaged web. A closer look around nearby trees showed similar spiders on rather large webs. Ismo said a silent prayer to the world that his parents had taught him, thanking it for this luck. He found the lowest webs and began to leap of the trunks of the closest trees or climbing heavily slanted trunks to collect as many webs as he could; sometimes briefly battling their large owners for possession. With the remedies collected, Ismo began to clean Quinn's gash as well as he could. The mix of her blood and the sand put the hair on Ismo's spine on edge. It was so bitter and gritty; each lick a reminder of his failure. Once the wound was nearly clean, the continued flow of blood making a completed job impossible, Ismo chewed the yarrow to release the juices inside quicker and carefully began to apply the healing concoction to Quinn's massive cut. Ismo's mind was running faster than a frightened rabbit. Ok, done. Now food, she'll need food when she wakes up. He didn't feel that it was safe to leave Quinn alone while he hunted though. So he slid into the brush just more than a foxlength away and waited. He prayed to the world for more help, he just needed a little more help. Many moments passed and the world answered him again. A crow flew into the small clearing where Quinn lay quiet and nearly still. The scavenger, drawn to the smell of spilled blood, now became prey. Ismo didn't waste the opportunity and shot from the bushes at the bird, having to leap into the air as the crow attempted to flee. The crow didn't have a second chance as Ismo killed it and started to clean off its black feathers with his rough tongue. Once finished, he sat down. The adrenaline from his fear and rage had worn off and now his mind scrambled for what to do next. The burrow! He had to get Quinn to the burrow, but moving her now could be very dangerous. As soon as she's awake and can stand we will go there. I can keep her safe there and she can rest. Ismo looked back to the unconscious she-cat and his resolved cracked. He felt tears begin to roll down his beige fur into the black striped beard that hung on either side of his face. This was his fault. The beautiful and sly loner that had captured his heart lay at his paws near death. The adventurous young tom who had become a dear friend was now in the hold of a evil cat with no good intentions. And all in the name of his dumb quest. What would becoming a Warrior mean if he lost Quinn? What would it mean with his innocent friend captured? He knew now that without Quinn, nothing would feel whole. And the loss of Star will hang on his conscious until the young cat was returned Westclan. Then Ismo noticed a pain in his stomach. He looked down and saw the grime coating his fur. He couldn't see any wounds so he began to finally clean himself of his opponent's blood, only to find the taste horrid. He spat after every swipe of his tongue. Only after a thorough cleansing did Ismo find several small claw marks on his belly and applied what was left of the yarrow. All the while tears continued to fall from his beard. And realizing he forgot to clean Quinn's cheek of the small cuts inflicted upon it. He moved over and gingerly licked her face clean, and was racked with another wave of guilt. "Please, forgive me Quinn. Forgive me, Star. I'm so sorry..." His body was weary, but his determination to end his failures overwhelmed it all. With nothing left to tend to, Ismo took up watch over his wounded love.

[sil]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Dbg.png] Diesel continued to haul his captive away as the sounds from the other cats died away. The young tom seemed to have stopped struggling, thankfully. He kept his scruff firmly clamped between his jaws anyway. Their plan had certainly gone awry. Diesel couldn’t expect Sledder to actually fight back against that massive tom, but, at the very least, the damage Sledder had done to their she-cat companion had been enough to keep the other cat off their tail. Diesel hadn’t the slightest clue what had happened to the Fledgling, and he didn’t have time to worry about it. Sledder was like a horde of pests; if you didn’t completely extinguish him, he would just keep coming back. The Fledgling certainly wouldn’t be happy with him. Once they were a good distance away, Diesel could feel the smarting in his neck and shoulders. He slowed, dragging Star into some leafy cover. He bent down and pressed his claws into the tom’s throat, clearly persuading Star to remain still. Finally, he released his teeth from his neck and turned to spit some grit, blood, and fur out of his mouth. Diesel frowned at the fox-colored cat’s question. “We’re going to our new home,” he meowed, neither warmth nor negotiation in his tone. “And I’d prefer to take you there in one piece should you cooperate with me.” A paw still secured to his throat, Diesel turned the tom around and sunk his teeth into the end of Star’s tail. He pushed on Star’s hind legs for him to move forward. Of all the mishaps of the afternoon, at least the Raiders would now have one strong, young tom to add to their midst.

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png] Quinn regained consciousness to the feeling of fire all over her body. Her eyes fluttered open. The wounds on her cheek, dangerously close to the vulnerable organ, stung fiercely, so she kept her right eye shut. She blinked a few more times to clear her vision, wondering if everything was just a sick, twisted dream. The broken halves of her precious feathers, mementos to the lost loved ones of her youth, came into focus. A numbness settled into the hollow of her chest. So it wasn’t a dream. Quinn felt like she would cry, but couldn’t form the tears. The numbness was like an expanse of ice holding still her heart. She reached out a paw blindly. “Wildcat…” she murmured brokenly, seeking her companion. Her injuries burned, but the pain was considerably less. The Snowshoe tried to stand; a fresh wave of pain kept her immobile and she groaned aloud. “Ismo,” she mewled again. This time her paw sunk into warm fur. She parted her jaws, breathed in—careful not to stretch the wounds on her back and sides—and filled her mouth with his scent. His presence calmed her like nothing else, picking away at the icy edges of her looming sadness. Her sight mostly back, Quinn glanced around the little clearing for their WestClan friend. His flame-hued pelt was nowhere to be seen. She stared down at her paws. There was no need to ask what had happened. “Did they hurt him?” she muttered into the rocky sand.

[Kenya]

~Foxkit//Star~

Star allowed himself to be dragged along knowing there was nothing he could do. His thoughts went back to Quinn, and he sent a silent prayer to Starclan that she would be alright. Starclan’s disappearance wasn’t known to Star. As a clan cat, his mother kept the dark side of the warriors from her kits. As a loner he had no reason to believe otherwise. Starclan would help Quinn. She was a good cat, and reminded Star of the mother he left behind. She and Larksong looked nothing alike, but he felt like she were his mother none the less. His mind clouded with the image of her bleeding on the sand. The silver tom with death in his eyes waiting to kill her. Star whimpered at the recent memory, the fear in him stinging like a fresh wound. His thoughts were interrupted when Diesel dropped him suddenly in a bed of leaves. Claws replaced the teeth around his throat and Star froze silently hoping he wasn’t about to be killed.

“We’re going to our new home” He meowed responding to Star’s question. Star felt a wave of relief wash over him. He would not die here. When Diesel stated he wanted cooperation and grabbed his tail, Star attempted to pull it away from him. Being pushed to his feet, and dug his claws into the earth. “I’ll go by myself.” he stated boldly although his body trembled like a leaf-fall tree in the breeze. Star attempted to tug his tail away from Diesel’s jaws. Ismo and Quinn told him to be brave. He would be brave. Star turned his head to look over his shoulder at the large tom. He crouched down and flattened his ears now fully seeing the cat’s size.

”You can’t make me stay forever.” He meowed quietly. His fiery pelt didn’t match the feeling of distress in his eyes, but he was a warrior. Warriors aren’t afraid of anything, and neither was he. “Let me go.” He meowed through clenched teeth, taking a swipe at Diesel.

[ghostwoodwarrior]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] "Wildcat" Ismo jumped slightly at the sound of Quinn's voice, not realizing he had begun to doze off. He turned in time to see her attempt to rise. "No, no my love. You must stay down and rest. Once you are able to move with little pain, we will go to that burrow. It will be safer there." When Quinn's paw sunk into the thick fur of his chest, some energy seemed to seep back into his tired body. Her question however, tore his heart from his chest.  "No my dear, not from what I could see. But I couldn't save him. I missed my chance and I couldn't chase them, I didn't have time. I'm sorry." Ismo hung his head and touched his nose to his prone friend. It took all his strength to hold back the tears that wanted to burst forth from his shame. But he needed to be strong now and keep them both out of more trouble. "Once you're safe and healed, then I'll try and track them. But it has been sometime since they left and the scent is fading. I will do all I can when the time comes, but until then, you need to rest." What Quinn didn't know was that she had been asleep for over a day. But her wounds had been serious and so Ismo let her sleep, and he stood watch all the while. Until she could move of her own strength, he will fight sleep and protect her from any threat that showed it's face.

[sil]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png] “I couldn't save him. I missed my chance and I couldn't chase them, I didn't have time. I'm sorry.” Quinn looked up from the ground. His pained expression, coupled with the fact that they had lost their young friend, was like the twist of a talon in her heart. She dragged herself closer, muscles stiff with disuse. “Don’t blame yourself, you mouse-brain,” she mewled, her tone lacking any kind of meanness. “I’m so happy you’re alright. I should have never brought us here.” The sting of tears burned the backs of her eyes but she refused to allow herself to cry until she had buried her muzzle into Ismo’s thick, beige pelt. His scent washed over her as she wept. She cried a while, unable to hold her emotions back. Not here, not with Ismo. Her shame at being so overwhelmed so quickly by the raiders, at watching her loved ones fall, at seeing the utter loss in Ismo’s silver eyes. Truthfully, she felt protected here, more than she ever had before. In spite of this, there was an unavoidable emptiness in her chest; a hollowness that would never be whole again until she saw Star alive again. Quinn pulled away, regretting the loss of warmth immediately. Her eyes fell upon her destroyed feathers once again. The red of the cardinal’s feather shone with the same brilliance as did Star’s fiery coat. She would need new feathers, ones to commemorate her new friends and life. A new fire in her eyes, Quinn turned back to her companion. “I’ll become well again,” she vowed, “and we’ll find him. We’ll take him back from them, no matter how far I have to go. We’ll bring Star back to WestClan.”

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Dbg.png] Diesel’s apple eyes, normally dull, sparked with contempt, and his expression narrowed with impatience. It wasn’t surprising to see the young cat fight back against his captor. His interactions with the Fledgling-aged little tom lead him to believe that Star was at least part Clan cat. His frame was too solid, his skin too thick to be a kittypet. The defiance in Star’s eyes only solidified Diesel’s theory. Clan cats were always so proud. They’d learn. “You want to go on your own?” he snarled, releasing the white-tipped tail. Before it had even left his mouth, Diesel sprang forward, his claws sheathed. He attacked with the intention of smacking the tom across the face, but if he was quick enough to dodge, Diesel would keep going until something landed. If Star was unwise enough to weasel his way out of the first strike, Diesel’s claws would be in the next strike. Advancing on Star, Diesel hissed, “I told you I would rather bring you in one piece. Try and disobey again.” His teeth flashed. “And don’t worry, kit, soon enough, you won’t want to leave Raider’s Run.”

[ghostwoodwarrior]

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[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Ismo was surprised by Quinn's regained strength. He hadn't expected her to be moving so much so rapidly. But it made him happy to see. He tilted his head towards the crow he had caught and stripped the feathers from. "You should eat, Quinn. You need to muster more of your strength after so long asleep. It isn't very fresh but no other prey has ventured close after so much bloodshed. And I saved the largest of its feathers for you, just in case you wanted it." Ismo ignored the sudden light growling of his own unfed stomach. " Once you have eaten, and if you feel well enough, we can make our way back to the burrow we passed. From there you can finish healing and we can decide what our next move should be." Ismo could see the determination in his companion's eyes and knew that their next move would be set to aid their kidnapped friend. But what they had to decide was how swiftly they were going to act. They needed to have a plan and more information of where they were, and where Star had been taken. Despite all of his worrying though, Ismo couldn't help but feel some joy in the fact that Quinn was indeed going to be fine. Something good was finally coming of this horrible affair.