Chapter Text
Callahan had always been a loner, never staying in one place for long. Never settling down with a clan. Staying out of the constant fighting within the clan, choosing instead to watch from the hillsides. But that changed when a lost kit came into his life. He had been off to the east, forced deep into Shadowclan territory.
It was dangerous to be here. The dark pines seemed to watch him. There could easily be Shadow clan scouts in the trees. With his web paws and silky fur, identifying him at a glance to be of the Riverclan. He was sure to be caught eventually. He had to be careful, one eye to the shadow pines, searching for the telltale signs of enemy cats in the trees, the other on the ground searching for food. But danger was a necessary evil. With the Wind clans' renewed attacks on the hunting grounds by the river clan, he needed to search further for food.
Callahan’s ears perked up at the sound of something from the underbrush. Turning while trying to remain in the shadows, the sound came again, and a glimpse of brown fur was visible. A field mouse, large enough to be a full meal. Exactly what Callahan needed. He pounced; there wasn't a field mouse in his claws but a terrified mousy brown kit. Callahan growled, his stomach still rumbling, and the kit screamed.
“Keep it down, kit, you will alert the whole Shadow clan that we were here.”
The kit didn’t stop yelling. Callahan bit down hard on the kit’s scruff, the kit went limp in his mouth, and finally stopped screaming. Callahan dropped the kit back to the ground, turned around, and started walking away. He was too hungry to deal with kitten antics. The little bastard could scream all he wanted until his parents came. Callahan got only three paces before he was stopped by the kit, who was rubbing his tiny head against Callahan’s fur. Callahan looked at the kit and growled again. He did not need a kit in his life, another mouth to feed, another life to deal with. But the Kit continues scenting the older cat, either oblivious or ignoring the older cat. The kit was so innocent, Callahan wondered which clan he came from. Who would be stupid enough to leave a kit out in the woods? Callahan may be a loner, but he certainly wasn't cruel. With a sigh, he picked up the kit and continued with the kit limp in his mouth. It was strange. Where did this kit come from?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Shadow clan scouts. They must have heard the kit’s screaming. Callahan crouched in the underbrush, rolling the sleepy kitten onto the ground, where he made disgruntled sounds. The shadow clan whipped around over their heads, pouncing from tree to tree, but by some miracle, they didn’t notice the pair hiding in the bush and went past. Callahan pushed the Kit onto his back. “Hold tight, little one.”
Giving little warning to the kit before sprinting out of the trees. He could sense the hidden scouts following them. They followed in the tree barely more than moving shadows. Callahan was not nearly as nimble with the kit on his back, and his muscles ached from the long day with no food. Just when he was so close to the edge of the forest, he tripped on the rooty underbrush and went sprawling. The kit bounced all the way down the hill, almost to the stream. From the tree tops came a black cat.
“This is the last time you were allowed in our territory.” The cat pounced, and for a second all that Callahan felt was claws and black fur. The other Shadow clan cackled and cawed like a murder of ravens. Hot blood poured from a claw wound on his shoulder. Callahan fell back, tumbling down the hill. Next to the kit, who looked terrified and unsure.
“Run kit,” Callahan tried to tell the kitten. But he must not have heard, as it didn’t move. Then again, the world was just black, greasy fur. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He had nothing to his name, no clan, and the kit would be in better hands anyway. Whatever one thinks of the Shadow clan, they would be able to care for a kit much better than a rogue Riverclan cat. So he stopped struggling and just stopped, letting the pain drift him further away.
But suddenly a screech filled the air. The black cat stumbled off of him, and he saw the kit attached, fang deep, firmly to her calf. The black cat thrashed, trying to remove the kit, but the little kit held strong. Callahan watched in absolute amazement as the older cat finally managed to remove the younger kit from her leg. The kit tumbled before getting right back up, hackles raised and growling.
“We promise to stay on your territory as long as you let us go,” Callahan tried to reason.
“Fine, but if I ever see you in Shadow Clan territory again, it won’t be me but Tigerstar facing you.” The shadow clan cat then turned away and left the pair.
Callahan went down to the riverbed and started cleaning himself up. Watching for any fish that swam by, when some finally did, he shared them with the kit.“What is your name, little one?” Callahan asked the kit. There was no response, but a gold piece of metal shone under the kit’s neck. Looking at the piece more closely it had some letters in human script. If Callahan remembered correctly, the first letter was an E. He had been a kittypet at one point; he knew not much of human script, but he had learned some.
“You're a kittypet,” Callahan realized. “Is your name Elijah? Or perhaps, Emmet?” He asked for the kit. The kit purred when Callahan said Emmet. “Emmet. Hm?” It was a very human name; it didn’t follow many of the more traditional warrior names. “How about Forrest Emmet? I did find you in a forest.” Forrest Emmet, not a bad name, Callahan mused to himself. Whatever his life as a rogue branch, at least he now had a kit by his side. It would not be easy, but maybe just maybe, with someone by his side, it would make it more tolerable.