Buzzardcry's Collection
THE BUZZARDS
Heat.
Hard, cracked earth.
Dust covered fur, and the cries of large birds way above her head.
The next thing Scarlet knows, she opens her eyes, and she's in a cool den, with walls made of dusty earth. Next to her is the skull of a small creature, the openings cleverly plugged so it could be filled with water. Only then she noticed her mouth was as dry as the walls surrounding her, and she eagerly started lapping at the cool liquid- it was gone all too soon. The kit sat back and
sighed; now what? Just then, a shadow crossed the one light source to the den, a rather large opening that sloped upward, she guessed to above ground. Scared, the little kit backed into a corner, her pelt puffing up to twice her size before she noticed it was just another cat, perhaps a few moons older than she. It was a tom, a black tabby with striking serpent green eyes, who appeared to be carrying another of the little liquid filled skulls. His ears perked up in excitement as soon as he noticed she was awake. He carefully set down the skull, and raced out of the den. Scarlet immediately relaxed.
She didn't get to relax for very long, however, before the black tom returned with a grizzled old she-cat with a sandy pelt. "Ah, Buzzard. You're awake" The she-cat spoke, her voice cracked with age. "My name is Scarlet." the little calico spat back, her ears pinned back in disdain at the name.
"You've been sleeping for quite a while, we've taken to calling you Buzzard. We were afraid you wouldn't wake up." The sandy-pelted cat turned to leave. "Rattler here will take care of you. Make sure you drink lots of water now- we don't need you dying of dehydration."
"I brought you another drink, though you'll probably want more than that." the black tom spoke, his voice fairly deep and raspy for his age. He nodded towards the skull he'd set down earlier.
"Why does she call me Buzzard?" Scarlet asked, her bicoloured eyes full of suspicion.
"When we found you, there were about a dozen buzzards circling you and the uh... The other she-cat you were with."
Poppy!
Scarlet stared at Rattler as if she'd seen a ghost. In all the confusion, she had totally forgotten about the other she-cat she'd been traveling with. "Where is she?" she snapped, suddenly hostile. What had these two monsters done with her friend?
Rattler looked at the she-cat, pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry Buzz- I mean, Scarlet. Your friend... she didn't make it. The heat... it was too much."
Scarlet heard what he said, but her mind couldn't process his words. She suddenly felt very weak again.
"Get some rest, I'll show you where we buried her once you've recovered some more."
THE FIRST SKULL
After several more days of sleeping on and off, drinking from the little skulls whenever she found one full, and eating the prey that was brought to her, Scarlet quickly regained her strength.
"I want to see her." she demanded the next time Rattler wandered into the den. Rattler just nodded, gestured for her to follow, and turned back out of the den. Scarlet climbed up the sharp incline out of the den after him into the blistering heat.
They walked for what felt like moons across the barren wasteland of cracked earth and dry weeds, until they reached a large pile of rocks, topped with the skull of a large bird. Rattler simply sat, and didn't say a word, allowing Scarlet to mourn her friend.
Scarlet just stared at the rocks for a while, until she became mesmerized by the skull on top of the pile- the marker of death. It could have just as easily been her that was under that pile of rocks instead of Poppy. Why had she been spared, while her friend had to die?
"We should head back" Rattler spoke after a while. "We have a ways back to walk, and the day is only going to get hotter. We need to get back to shelter before sun high."
Scarlet took several moments to respond, too entranced by the skull. Once her brain finally registered his words, she turned to him, a haunted look in her eyes. She didn't say a word, but turned to walk back in the direction they came.
Moons passed, and Scarlet continued to live with the two cats who rescued her. She hunted with Rattler, and shared tongues with the sandy she-cat she learned was named Gecko. Who insisted on continuing to call her Buzzard, much to her chagrin. Gecko told her many stories over the moons they spent together; myths about ancient cats who fought horrible creatures, and her personal favourite, the legend of the skulls. In the legend, Death appears as a great black eagle, who preys on cats, stealing their souls to the underworld, rather than allowing them passage to the starry hunting grounds the cats would normally go to. To ward of Death, cats placed skulls of birds, the largest ones they could get, at the entrances to their dens. The hope was that seeing the skull of one of its own kind, Death would leave them alone. They began using skulls to mark graves as well, to make sure Death granted the passed souls safe passage to the afterlife. The first time Gecko told her this story (and there had been many), she revealed that when they found her passed out in the wasteland next to her dead friend, they had found the skull of a small bird by her head. An omen that warded off death. That's when Gecko gave Scarlet her first skull.
THE DROUGHT
Scarlet eventually accepted the name Buzzard as her own as she became more accustomed to living with Gecko and Rattler. Things were good here. Sure it was hot and dry, but prey was plentiful, and water wasn't too difficult to find if you knew where to look. That is, of course, until the drought hit. Water sources dried up, prey died off, and life in the wasteland got very difficult, very fast.
"We've got to convince her to leave"
"She's too stubborn, she'll never leave this place" Rattler sighed. They were on day 7 of no freshkill, and day 3 of no carrion either. It was going on half a moon since they'd all had enough to eat, and it wasn't like they'd had an overabundance before now either.
"If we stay here, we'll die. We haven't eaten in days, the water's nearly dried up... The wasteland has to end at some point right?"
"She won't leave."
"Well we can't just sit around waiting to die now can we?!" Buzzard hissed, frustrated. She couldn't just wait around for death, but she also couldn't abandon these two to the drought either.
Rattler looked over to the den where the three of them normally slept; the drought was taking the biggest toll on Gecko, her age seeming to be catching up to her. She hadn't left the den in 4 days, and had gotten incredibly weak. "I don't think she'd survive the journey, Buzzard."
The next morning, Buzzard and Rattler awoke bright and early as per usual to go hunting before the sun rose and it got too hot and what prey remained went into hiding. Buzzard went over to press her nose to Gecko's fur as a good morning, as she did every morning, only to find the old she-cat's pelt was deathly cold, and there was no telltale rise and fall of her ribs to indicate life. "Gecko?" Buzzard cried, alarmed, hoping that maybe, just maybe she was wrong and the sound of her voice would wake her friend up. No response. "Gecko!!" she called again, more frantically, shaking the she-cat with a paw- nothing. Buzzard looked over at Rattler for help, but he just stood there solemnly. A while later, he spoke; "We need to bury her."
And so they did.
Buzzard frowned up at the pile of stones that marked Gecko's grave. Suddenly, she turned back into the den, Rattler frowning after her in confusion. Inside the den, Buzzard made her way over to Gecko's nest and started poking around. She knew the old she-cat had to have a bird skull around her nest somewhere...Just as she was going to give up, she saw it. On the other side of the den sat a little bird skull- Gecko must have kicked it away in her sleep... Buzzard just stared at the skull, mesmerized yet again. Maybe the legends weren't just legends after all... Maybe the skulls actually did ward off death.
After a moment, she grabbed the skull, and made her way back outside. When Rattler saw the skull, he just shook his head, never one to believe in Gecko's stories. Carefully, she placed the skull on the top of Gecko's grave. Backing away a bit, she smiled up at the skull, knowing Gecko would be happy to have it with her, guarding her path to the afterlife.
"Well." Rattler sighed after a moment. "Guess it's time for us to try and find a new home, huh?"
​Buzzard nodded, before dashing back to her nest to get her own little skull. No way was she leaving that behind now.
THE SECOND SKULL
Several days into their journey across the wasteland, and things weren't much better. They'd taken to traveling at night, since the days were far too hot, and luckily they'd been able to find shelter from the blistering sun everyday thus far. But they still hadn't found anything to eat, and things were looking dire. If they didn't eat soon...
On the 4th night of their journey, they encountered the first living thing they'd seen in ages; a rattlesnake. Knowing this was likely their only chance to eat in a while, the two cats worked together to take the snake down- one distracting it while the other sneaked up behind it, giving it a bite behind the head to kill it quickly. Delighted, the two devoured the snake as quickly as they could, relishing the first freshkill they'd had in close to half a moon.
That's when she discovered it- inside the carcass of the snake was the partially digested remains of it's last meal- including, Buzzard smiled, the skull of a small bird. Yet again, a bird skull had helped ward of death- in this case, her's and Rattler's. Maybe the skull thing only worked for cats.
Much to Rattler's chagrin, Buzzard insisted on taking the new bird skull along with them on their journey. Things started to get much easier after that. In fact, it wasn't long before the wasteland began to gave way to fields, and fields gave way to forests.
MEETING THE CLANS
Once they reached the forests, finding prey and water became significantly easier; it didn't take long for them to find a place to settle and call home. Unfortunately for them, they hadn't noticed the scent markers they'd just crossed over...
They hadn't been staying in their new home in a holly bush for more than two nights before a group of strange smelling cats showed up, hackles raised and claws out. Rattler slid out of the den to meet them, Buzzard slinking out after him.
"And what exactly do you think you're doing in Leafclan territory?" the leader snarled, looking down at the two invaders, his chin held high.
"Leafclan?" Buzzard tilted her head
"Yes, Leafclan. This is our territory. You're going to leave, or we're going to make you"
Rattler snarled, his claws coming out, and Buzzard let out an unnerving, shrill cackle. It was really a nervous reaction, but no need for them to know that.
The leader of the strange cats snarled right back, and didn't hesitate before leaping on Rattler. The other two cats turned towards Buzzard, who's shrill cackling hadn't stopped. Clearly unnerved, they hesitated on attacking her, and her fur fluffed up to twice her size, claws sliding out as she got in a defensive crouch. After exchanging a glace, one of the cats lashed out at her, only to meet her claws raking across his muzzle. The cat yowled in pain, and backed off, his friend coming in for a shot, managing to catch Buzzard's ear before Buzzard sunk her teeth into the other she-cat's foreleg.
Buzzard's cackling seemed to unnerve the two cats enough to keep them from attacking effectively, and soon enough Rattler had managed to fight off the leader, sending the three clan cats running back into the forest, calling threats of coming back with reinforcements. And that they did. Buzzard and Rattler had just finished licking their wounds when the clan cats returned, followed by at least six more cats for backup. The two wasteland cats looked at each other before grabbing the skulls from the entrance of their holly den and bolting away from the clan cats. They ran and ran until they noticed the clan cats had stopped chasing them, and then ran some more, just to be safe before finally stopping. Time to start looking for yet another new home.
Much to Rattler's chagrin, Buzzard insisted on taking the new bird skull along with them on their journey. Things started to get much easier after that. In fact, it wasn't long before the wasteland began to gave way to fields, and fields gave way to forests.
A NEW HOME, A NEW SKULL, AND A NEW NAME
After traveling for another quarter moon, that's when they found it- their perfect home. Surrounded by lush forest, with a water source not too far away, was a small area of dead forest. With the dry, cracked earth and dead trees, it felt very much like the wasteland they used to call home. It couldn't be more perfect- and this one they were determined not to lose.
The two cats honed their battle skills, practicing in case any strange cats ever tried to scare them from their home again. They decided that Buzzard's odd nervous cackling could be a strong advantage, so she practiced it as much as she could, getting it to be as creepy and unnerving as she could, and Rattler developed his own tactics for unnerving enemies.
They had been living in their new home for several moons by the time two strangers showed up at their new home. Immediately, Rattler and Buzzard slipped into their defensive characters, slinking over to opposite sides of the pair of visiting cats.
"And what exactly do you think you are doing in our territory?" Rattler asked, with a tilt of his head, his voice rather sinister. Buzzard let out an unnerving cackle, and slid out her claws.
"We come in peace" The cinnamon tabby tom stepped forward slightly. "My name is Otterstrike, and this is Rowanflame. We're the leaders of Currentclan-" Otterstrike paused as Rattler and Buzzard simultaneously snarled, having a shared distaste for clans. "We caught your scent downwind, and decided to come introduce ourselves; we've only just settled here, down by the lake. We didn't know there were any other cats around here. If you ever need anything, we would be happy to try and help." Otterstrike glanced at Rattler and Buzzard each before giving a nod, and stepping back and turning to leave.
Several more moons passed, and the clan cats didn't give them any trouble. The odd time a patrol would pass too close to their home, but a shrill cackle or an unnerving stare was normally all it took to send them in the other direction. Of course they would rather they didn't have to share the area at all, but they would eventually learn to appreciate the clan cats' close proximity.
It happened one greenleaf afternoon, Rattler and Buzzard were out hunting. Buzzard was stalking a mouse, and was far too focused on that, so when Rattler yowled for her to look behind her, it took a moment too long to register, and a large black paw swiped her head, sending her bowling over into the underbrush. As she lay there dazed, she felt the heavy footsteps plodding towards her, and Rattler's battle yowl as he launched himself at the badger that had attacked her. By the time she managed to get her bearings, the badger had Rattler trapped by the base of an oak tree. She let out a screech, and ran at the badger, which turned it's attention from Rattler just long enough to swipe at her again, sending her slamming against a nearby tree. Black spots swam across her vision as she slid down the tree, and the last things she remembers before passing out are the yowls of several cats getting louder, and a bird skull right in front of her nose.
She wakes up a while later, and her head is throbbing- she must have hit it pretty hard. She looked around, and had no idea where she was. She was in a dim area of an otherwise brightly lit cave, resting on a nest of moss and bracken. The cave smelled musty and carried a sharp green smell that she couldn't quite place. Next to her lay Rattler, covered in what appeared to be cobwebs and chewed up leaves. Not long after that, a large cinnamon tom enters the cave, and gives her a smile. "Otterstrike?" she narrows her eyes suspiciously.
"Actually, Otterstar now. But yes, I'm the same cat you met before. That was a nasty fight you two found yourself in. I'm just happy my patrol heard your yowls."
"We could have handled it ourselves." Buzzard replied defensively, tilting her chin up. The sudden movement made her wince in pain though, and Otterstar pushed a large dock leaf towards her, which held a few tiny black seeds.
"Poppy seeds- they'll help the pain, but they'll make you sleepy"
Buzzard stared at the seeds, then at Otterstar before lapping them up.
"I'll leave you to rest."
Rattler and Buzzard stayed with the clan cats for a while as they healed, the medicine cat, Mothwatcher, being very protective over them, and not wanting them to leave before she was sure they were good to go. Over that time, Buzzard and Rattler became more and more comfortable with the clan cats, and actually started to make some friends eventually- it took a while to convince the clan cats they weren't as creepy as their defenses made them seem. Eventually, Mothwatcher cleared them to leave. Buzzard had to stop herself from frowning at the news, and exchanged a glance with Rattler to see he felt the same.
"You don't have to leave you know" Otterstar smiled at them, seeing their torn expressions. "You're more than welcome to stay with us."
They agreed in a heartbeat.
"Well, I guess I have an announcement to make" Otterstar smirked, and dashed over to the Tall Rock, calling the clan before him.
"Cats of Currentclan, I have a very special announcement to make. Today we welcome two new warriors into our ranks. They have a lot to learn about Clan life still, but I know they'll do just fine. I, Otterstar, leader of Currentclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these cats. I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Rattler and Buzzard, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?" At Rattler and Buzzard's "I do"s, he continued; "Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Rattler, from this moment on, you shall be known as Rattlerfang. Starclan honours your skill in battle. Buzzard, from this moment on, you shall be known as Buzzardcry. Starclan honours your unique battle tactics and skill."
As the clan started cheering their names, Buzzardcry looked at Rattlerfang, feeling more at home than she ever had. Only one thing was missing. The next morning after their warriors vigil, Buzzardcry ventured back to their old home in the dead forest patch, and the spot of the badger attack to collect her skulls. She placed them around her nest in the warriors den and smiled. Finally a home she could keep.