From Paris With Love

Prologue
Ravenflight paced frantically back and forth in front of the medicine cat's den. He couldn't lose her. Not after losing Sweetkit and Larchkit. She was too precious to him.

As soon as Bumblewhisker's apprentice, Comfreyleaf, made her way out of the den, he was on her. "How is she?"

The ginger she-cat didn't meet his eyes. "Ravenflight, you'd better come see her."

A cold knot of dread formed in Ravenflight's stomach as he dashed into the den. It reeked of sickness and herbs, but above that was the delicate perfumed scent of his beloved.

Mintberry was stretched out in her nest. Her silver-and-white flanks struggled for breath. Her soft mint-green eyes were closed. Bumblewhisker looked up and saw him there. "She's leaving us Ravenflight."

"No!" The black tom collapsed by his mate's side. "Mintberry," he whispered. "Speak to me my love. You'll be all right." His thoughts flashed back to their younger days, how lively and healthy she'd been. He could see her perfectly, eyes dancing, delicate and lithe as she pranced around him. How could something like greencough take that lovely she-cat away from him and replace her with this poor cat struggling to cling to life? "Stay with me, darling."

Mintberry's eyes met his. For one moment her old spirit returned, a flash of youthful vigour. Ravenflight could see all her love burning brightly in her gaze. "Ravenflight, I wish I could stay, but StarClan beckons me. Don't be sad. I love you." Her head fell back into the nest, and she took one last shuddering breath.

Ravenflight didn't believe it at first. "No! We can start again! We'll have more kits! Mintberry!" He was saying anything, anything at all, trying to keep her with him. But he could tell she was gone.

Outside, the rain poured in a sudden violet outburst, as if the whole world was weeping for the wonderful life lost

Throughout it all, the vigil, the burial, Ravenflight had been numb. But now the pain wracked him, huge, shuddering sobs. He lay alone, away from the camp, on the border of PineClan's territory. Alone with his grief, memories, loss. Alone. He had never felt so abandoned. And yet, he somehow resented the thought of the company, and sympathy, that his clan offered. A burning anger started in his heart.

I can't- won't, go back. StarClan hadn't saved Mintberry. Bumblewhisker hadn't saved her. The warrior code hadn't saved her. He wasn't sure if they could have, but they hadn't. He couldn't face them. She, the light of his life, was gone. He wanted no more part of clan life. Of social life. Every time you opened your heart to someone, they were snatched from you. His parents. His sister, Swanpaw. And now Mintberry. He had no one left. Nothing left to live for, but himself.

Slowly, Ravenflight got to his paws. He stalked stiff-leggedly over PineClan's border, turning up his nose at their pathetic attempts to claim their own land. Living for others just didn't pay.

It was time for the new Ravenflight.

Chapter One
The sun shone brightly down on Paris's ginger coat as she stepped out of the house and into the bright spring day. She stretched blissfully, feeling the warm, wet earth squelch between her paws, and bounded across the garden.

Paris climbed onto the fence and gave a little sigh as she looked out at the woods beyond Twolegplace. Across the Thunderpath, ever symbolizing a freedom that she could not understand, but longed for everyday.

None of her friends could understand her fascination with the wild. Not that they had reason to. Her housefolk treated her well, she had to admit. But Paris couldn't explain why she was drawn to the woods, why an invisible force tugged her paws towards the outer fence. So she just accepted it as an unfullfilled part of her life.

"Good morning Paris." She heard a cheerful voice and turned to find herself looking into a pair of laughing blue eyes.

"Hello Misty," she meowed. The she-cat was named more for her looks than personality, for she was nowhere near as demure and peaceful as her ghostly silver coat and lithe figure suggested. No, Misty was definitley all sunshine and rainbows, Paris thought to herself.

"Fine weather, isn't it? Although it was fun to curl up on my folk's lap while it rained last night," Misty said.

Paris shook her head. "I much prefer this weather, though I'd even have sheltered outside in the rain if my housefolk let me."

Misty rolled her eyes. "Paris, you are the oddest cat I have ever met. And my uncle Cliff was extremley odd," she added.

"That's nice," Paris said hastily. She did not want another story about Misty's many wacky relatives.

Misty didn't take the hint. "This one time, there was this stove, see, and-"

"Oh, sorry Misty, I think I hear my food bowl being filled," Paris interrupted.

"No problem," Misty chirped. "It can wait."

Paris hurried back into the house, though she had no intention of eating the rabbit-droppings her Twolegs filled her bowl with. Her own garden held a delightful supply of mice and rabbits, and sometimes she was daring enough to climb over the fence and hunt in the strip of grass between it and the Thunderpath.

Avoiding all attempts on her Twolegs part to pet her, Paris wove her way through the house and sat down in her bed. She then proceeded to wash one white paw, but there was so surpassing the fact that she was so bored she might as well be dead.

Paris sighed, giving up on her attempt at grooming. How could the others stand it? Not doing anything but loaf around the whole day, eating from bowls, getting petted and fondled by clumsy Twolegs. Just thinking about it made her claws unsheathe and work into the soft fuzzy stuff the floor was lined with. She had yet to find a way to escape from it. But someday, she vowed, she would.

Chapter Two
"One, two, three, win!"

Ravenflight let go of the brown tabby tom's neck, spitting blood out of his mouth. He listened with grim satisfaction as Buck continued. "And now Ravenflight's in the finals! He'll be competing against Demon next week."

With that, the alley cats broke up, leaving Ravenflight to stalk out triumphantly. He allowed himself a brief glimmer of pride, then staunchly cut it off and headed down the streets towards his favorite garbage cans.

His thoughts, as they often did when he was alone, turned back to the forest. No! He'd finally made a place for himself here, using his fighting skills to dominate the alleys. There was no time in his life for foolish sentiment; all these rogues needed to be constantly put in their place.

A small gray tom was rooting about in the garbage when Ravenflight arrived. He gave a nervous start. Ravenflight peeled back his lips and let out a low, threatening snarl. "Get lost Pete."

Pete nodded, picked up a piece of crusty bread, and dashed away. Ravenflight stalked to the pile of crow-food and rooted about till he found a nice chicken leg. Then he took his treasure to a secluded corner of the alley and began to eat, always alert for any sign of the hoarde of rats that occupied the place.

After his meal, he decided to take a little stroll down by the Thunderpath, near the Twoleg fences. With a yawn and a stretch, Ravenflight trotted away from the dark alleys, towards the Thunderpath. For a second, his eyes strayed to the woods, then he shook himself and trotted onwards.

Suddenly, a rank scent reached his nostrils. He stiffened. A second later, two stinking, flea-bitten cats appeared. Ravenflight flattened his ears. These were two goons of Demon, and they always made trouble for him. Unsheathing his claws, Ravenflight tossed his head defiantly and met their beady glare.

"Good morning, Dexter, Strike," he said cordially. His green eyes mocked the two simple cats, who seemed to realize finally that he was being sarcastic.

"We no care for good morning," hissed Dexter. What the large tabby tom lacked in brains he made up for in size and power. Strike was quicker and stealthier; they made a deadly combination.

Ravenflight was ready for Dexter when he pounced. He dodged out of the way, then used the momentum of Dexter's own attack against him by shoving him from the back and sending him flying into a bush lining the fence.

Strike darted in, snarling. The ginger tom bit open an old wound on Ravenflight's leg. Letting out a howl of pain, Ravenflight slashed at him. But by this time, Dexter had gotten back to his paws. He thundered into the middle of Ravenflight, knocking him sprawling.

As soon as he got up, Dexter and Strike were on him again, slashing for all they were worth. Ravenflight became a buzzsaw, but he was no match for two angry cats.

Demon's going to enjoy hearing about this, Ravenflight thought as he made a beeline for the fence.

Chapter Three
Paris crouched in the long grass, unmowed and thick, outside of the confinment of her Twoleg's yard. The mouse was nibbling on a stalk of something, completley unaware of her.

Suddenly, the mouse perked up. Paris froze, but her prey darted away. With a snarl of frustration, she got up, just in time to see a black tom running, before he slammed into her and sent her head over heels.

She got up snarling. "What is-" She was cut short by two other toms, who thundered past her. One of them, a dark brown tabby, stepped on the black cat's tail as he scrambled for the fence. Paris felt anger rising within her. She didn't know the black tom, she'd never seen him around the neighboring yards, but she did have a keen sense of justice, and no cat was getting ganged up on while she was around. With a yowl, she sprang onto the tabby's back and sunk her claws in, thankful that her Twolegs hadn't clipped them yet.

The tom let out a screech of pain. "Get off me kittypet!" He swiped at her, but she only dug in harder. Meanwhile, the black tom and the ginger tom were wrestling on the ground.

"Get lost!" The black cat sent his opponent sprawling. The ginger scrambled to his feet and went streaking away, along the Thunderpath.

Paris felt the tabby hesitate, then he shook her off and followed suit. Paris felt a wonderful thrill as she watched them run away. She'd fought, and won, her very first battle! Turning, she found the black tom staring at her with hostile green eyes.

"I didn't need your help, kittypet!" he snarled.

Paris bushed out her tail and spat at him vehemently. "Didn't need my help? They would've shredded you if I hadn't been there." The tom looked mildly surprised, as if he'd expected her to run of crying to her housefolk. It was what Misty or any of Paris's friends would have done. But Paris stood her ground, too angry to be scared. How dare he!

The tom rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just run back to your kittypet home before you actually get hurt."

"Hold on just a minute," she snapped. "You're not brushing me off like a flea. I'm not budging till you say thank you."

The tom looked amused, but stalked off with a grunt. Paris glanced at the fence leading to her yard, then brushed it off and ran after him. After all, she'd longed to escape the bonds of her Twoleg home, and now she really felt free, invigorated by the fight. She wasn't sure how she would survive out here, but something told her the first step was to stay with this black tom.

He turned around with an expression that was half amused, half annoyed. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

Paris ignored him. "Did I hear a thanks? Perhaps a thank you, even?"

"Maybe you should get your ears checked. And your brain. Following people is creepy and wierd." But Paris detected a twitch of his whiskers.

"What's your name?" she asked.

He studied her, sizing her up. "What's yours?"

"Paris," she meowed freely.

The tom let out a snort of laughter. "I've heard some really dumb names around here, but your's wins first prize."

Paris narrowed her eyes and hissed, "Well, what's your name then?" When he hesitated, she taunted, "Coward. You scared a wittle kittypet like me is gonna eat you?"

"Ravenflight." The tom watched her, daring her to say something.

"That's actually a really nice name," she admitted. Ravenflight looked surprised, but he didn't say anything.

"Don't you need to go back? I mean, thank you or not, you can't be serious about walking away from your housefolk."

Paris smirked at him. "Yeah right. I've been waiting all this time for an oppurtunity to get out of there."

"But you were already out when I ran into you. Waiting for the right tom?" Ravenflight's eyes were full of mischeif.

"But I never did find him, so I took pity on you," countered Paris. Ravenflight shrugged and trotted ahead. Paris made no move to keep up, but didn't fall behind either. She followed as he walked away from the posh place where her house was, and into a dark, rank alley. Her legs began to ache, but she was determined not to fall behind. She'd show him!

Finally, Ravenflight turned. His voice was low and eerie in the caverns of the crow-food strewn alley. "Really Paris. This is no place for a little kittypet." Though most of the scorn was gone from his voice, Paris still took it as an insult.

"No! Just say thank you!"

He looked exasperated, but appeared to be as stubborn as her, because he turned around and continued walking without meowing the requested words.

Paris had never been so miserable. Her legs were wet from walking through puddles, her paws caked with mud, and her pads scratched and worn from the cracked gravelly floor.

Ravenflight glanced at her, and she squared her chin, determined not to let her weariness show. But his green eyes softened anyway. "We can rest now." He seemed to have accepted her as a temporary factor in his life. "How about in that opening in the alley walls, where it crumbles away?"

Paris glanced at the dirty opening, but was too tired to complain. Ravenflight let her go in first, then huddled on the outskirts, purposely staying away from her, though that left him little room to sleep.

Paris only had a brief moment to wonder whether she'd done the right thing by following the black tom. She steeled her heart. Of course she had. It was what she had longed for her whole life, and she would face the new adventure with all the spirit and courage she had. But there was something else to. Something that pulled at her heart, telling her Ravenflight needed her as much as she needed him to survive.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of her mind, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Four
Ravenflight watched her, his claws sheathing and unsheathing frantically against the stone. He should just kill her now, or at least wound her, and run away. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even with her coat dirty and mud-stained, she was still beautiful. He shook the image out of his mind, but it was still there. Her mischevious, spirited amber eyes, light ginger coat with the delicate white paws, finely formed head. It was all imprinted into his mind.

And he'd lied about her name. It was the prettiest kittypet name he had ever heard, and felt like music rolling of his tongue. He wouldn't say thank you now if she pressed her claws to his throat; the thought of her leaving made his belly clench. But he didn't know how she could possibly survive out here. Spirited and brave she might be, but she had too much of a sense of justice and honor to be a rogue of the alleys.

Just then, he saw her stir. She raised her head, and he quickly looked away, not wanting her to think he had been watching her. With a yawn and a stretch, Paris got to her feet. "I'm so sore," she meowed. Her eyes looked around dazedly, then yesterday seemed to catch up with her. She smiled at Ravenflight, and his heart gave a queer leap.

He masked it by saying curtly, "Well, you must've gotten enough rest, snoring like a hog the whole night and well into the day."

"Oh please, it's barely past dawn," her normal tone returned.

"Well, you can sleep the day away, but I've got food to find," he said, trotting away. A second later, she was at his side, with all the curiousity and excitement of a newly made apprentice. Ravenflight was reminded of his old apprentice, Sorrelpaw. She must be a warrior by now. Yellowleaf had probably taken over her training; the young she-cat had been wanting one for a long time.

Paris broke into his train of thought. "Do you hunt everyday? What other kinds of prey are there around here? Can you show me the best stalking techniques? For some reason, most creatures hear me before I can catch them. Of course, yesterday that was your fault."

He blinked at her, taken aback by the stream of questions. "Well..." he began slowly. "I don't hunt everyday. You have to go to the Twoleg dens to do that, where the grass grows. And no respectable cat goes near there." He threw her a meaningful glance, and her hackles raised. Before she could say anything, he pressed on. "So mostly we eat forage-food."

"What's that?"

"Well, back in the clans we called it crow-food." He realized too late that he had said the wrong thing.

"The clans! You've been with them? Of course, I should've known from your name. They live terribly far away, don't they? Oh, Ravenflight, are you a warrior?"

"I was," he muttered, not meeting her shining eyes. "But it's too long a journey anyhow."

She looked puzzled. "Why did you leave?"

"None of your business!" he yelled. She didn't look taken aback at all.

"But it is my business. I want to become a clan cat. To serve. To live by the warrior code. To lay down my life for others."

He sighed. "You have no idea what it's like Paris. It isn't some free-for-all kittypet club. They wouldn't accept you, and even if they would, you would never make the journey." Instantly her tail was the size of a tree trunk.

"I would, I can, and I will!" Her eyes flashed vehemently. Then her face softened. "Ravenflight, would you take me to the clans?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No," he repeated. "I'm never going back there again. You wouldn't understand, Paris. All your life you've been pampered. You don't know what it's like to lose-" he choked back the words, and the tears.

Paris was too angry to notice. "Fine! I'll just find them myself." Before he could stop her, she had turned and run out of the alley.

She'll come back, he told himself, but doubt prickled in his paws. After five minutes had passed, he padded out of the alley. Monsters shot past him, rocking the Thunderpath and belching disgusting fiery fumes. There was no sign of a ginger she-cat. Worry filled his mind. Where could she have gone? She couldn't possibly find her way back home, let alone make the long journey to the clans.

That's not my problem, he thought. Curling up in a ball, he proceeded to shut out the sounds of the outside world and go to sleep.

He found himself standing in a familiar clearing surrounded by pines. The scents were achingly dear to his heart, but then one that he treasured far more reached his nostrils.

Ravenflight let out a gasp as a beautiful silver-and-white she-cat walked towards him. Her frosty mint-green eyes glimmered, and soft white light seemed to radiate from her pelt.

"Mintberry," he whispered, as if talking loudly would make her vanish like a puff of cloud.

"Ravenflight." She ran the last few steps and reached him. For the first time, he noticed two gray bundles running after her. One was charcoal, the other silver with white paws.

"Sweetkit, Larchkit!" He licked both of them over the head.

"Daddy," purred Larchkit, rubbing her dark head against his legs.

"Ravenflight," Mintberry murmured, after they were done rubbing against each other and purring. "It's time to go back."

"What?" He had been drinking in her sweet scent open-mouthed, but now he stared at her dumbly.

"Back," she repeated. "to the clans. To PineClan. To your old life."

He continued staring, so she went on. "Ravenflight, I still love you with all my heart. But it is time to build a new life. Find Paris. Bring her to the clans with you. I know you can make it together. Your destiny is not here, on the streets of Twolegplace. You belong back in PineClan, as a warrior."

Many questions were swirling in Ravenflight's mind, but his love for his family stopped him from blurting them out. And then Sweetkit sealed his decision. The little she-kit hopped up and touched her nose to his. "Go Daddy. Be a big warrior and make us proud."

His heart warm, Ravenflight licked his kits one last time. Then his gaze met Mintberry's. She nodded once. "And one last thing Ravenflight. I'm not the only she-cat there is."

"Huh?"

She gave a sad smile, as if she knew she was losing something, but the sacrifice was worth it. "Don't be afraid to open your heart to love." With that, they vanished, and the next thing he knew, Ravenflight was waking up in the alley.

Bounding out, he quickly picked up a faint thread of Paris's scent and followed it. He didn't know the why or the what of what he was doing, except that Mintberry had told him too. And though she was in StarClan, his beloved mate's wish was still his law.

Ready or not PineClan, he thought. Here I come.

Chapter Five
Paris huddled in a clump of weeds. She couldn't tell whether it was she who was shaking, or the ground, everytime a monster roared past. It was evening, almost night, and she had resolved to make it across the Thunderpath before darkness fell. She'd spent most of the afternoon talking to cats around Twolegplace and trying to find out things about the clans.

She had mostly met dead ends, but finally a grizzled old brown tom, a kittypet, had told her something of interest. She recalled what he had said:

"Well, young 'un, I don't remember the clans that much anymore, but it's embedded into my heart, that's for sure. My name's Whiskers, but back in GrassClan they called me Speedstar." Here he had sighed. 'If only I had the courage to... but never mind that. One day, when I was on my last life, I wandered away from camp. A storm came up, and these Twolegs found me. I should've run, but I just didn't think the warrior life was for me anymore. I've regretted it many times, but I can't say I'd go back if I could."

''Speedstar. Last life. ''Paris wasn't sure what exactly those words meant, but they gave her a wonderful thrill. Whiskers had told her that he had been the leader of GrassClan once. Privatley, Paris didn't know how he could settle for being a pampered kittypet after the excitement and nobility of being a warrior. Just as she didn't understand why Ravenflight didn't want to return to the clans. Maybe if Whiskers talked to Ravenflight, he would listen to reason, she thought.

But Paris had other things to worry about. And she wouldn't go back and admit to Ravenflight that she couldn't do it alone for anything in the world.

"You know, if you want to cross the Thunderpath, it would help not to fall asleep."

Paris opened her eyes and focused on the owner of the taunting voice. A black tom came into focus, his emerald eyes dancing with amusement. "Ravenflight!" She couldn't keep the joy out of her voice, but quickly subdued herself. "What are you doing here?"

He grinned ands stretched comfortably. "Oh hon, you have so much to learn. I own the place. And as a high official, they asked me to see a certain little kittypet to the clans. She might fall into a well otherwise, see."

Laughing, Paris bumped against his shoulder. The sun had almost set now, but though the flow of monsters was slower, it was still there. "I see," she said. "Well good luck finding her. She sounds like a lovely soul."

Ravenflight smiled for a moment, then his tone turned serious. "Come on, let's hurry and cross before it's too dark."

Nodding, Paris followed him to the edge of the Thunderpath. Though she tried to keep herself steady, her legs shook as a monster roared past, it's bright eyes gleaming eerily. Ravenflight watched her reaction, and she steeled her gaze, trying to radiate self-confidence.

"As soon as I run, come with me and keep running. You ready?"

Paris took a deep breath and smiled. "Let's do this."

Ravenflight waited for the next monster to pass, then he flicked his tail at her and dashed across. Paris was on his heels, trying to ignore the overwhelming stench and the unfamiliar hard substance digging into her pads.

The next thing she knew, she was on the other side, safe and sound. Letting out a joyous whoop, she leaped high into the air to celebrate, then rolled around in the grass, ectasy coursing through her.

Finally, she got to her paws and shook grass off her fur. Self-conciously, she noticed Ravenflight staring at her, and realized how foolish she must have looked. Turning away, she muttered, "So are we going to find a place to camp out now?"

He seemed to come out of a trance. "Huh? Oh right. Well, it would be better if we went further into the woods, just to be safe. Come on."

"Okay," she sighed. They padded into the dark shadowy woods. Overhead, the stars of Silverpelt cast their silver glow on the two unsuspecting members of a carefully plotted couple.

Chapter Six
Ravenflight yawned and stretched. The first rosy flush of dawn had barely touched the horizon, but he'd had all his sleep for tonight. Getting up, he shook the pine needles off his pelt. They had camped under the sheltering boughs of a large fir. Paris still slep peacefully, her ginger flanks rising and falling evenly.

He padded out into the still woods, deciding to hunt. It would be nice to have some fresh-kill, and prove his hunting skills. A few nagging doubts came into his mind about this journey. How could he just disappear from the alleys without a trace, leaving his old life completely? Would Demon take over now? Pushing them away, he concentrated only on the sacred memory of his mate. She wanted him to go back to PineClan. At least if he didn't want to stay, he could drop Paris off there, and she'd be out of his hair. Ravenflight wasn't sure what it was about the she-cat that made him want to help her, perhaps it was only StarClan's will, but he was a determined cat, and he would make it happen.

He quickly killed a thrush, and then a sparrow. Picking up the two limp birds, he hurried back to the pine tree. Paris was sitting outside, grooming a paw gingerly. She looked up and smiled as he approached.

"Breakfast," he mumbled, ignoring the way his stomach flipped when she smiled.

"So you can hunt," she joked, and walked over to him. For a second a shadow flitted through her amber eyes. "But I can find my own prey you know."

Ravenflight was about to retort when he remembered how stubborn she could be. They couldn't afford to waste time. "Sure you can. But just hurry and eat so we can get started."

"Fine," she sighed. "Next time, I'm hunting."

Pushing the thrush towards her, he began to eat the sparrow without replying. He seriously doubted that she could hunt, after being raised with housefolk to feed her.

Seeming to guess what he was thinking, Paris glowered at him. "I will hunt next time, and catch enough prey for both of us, too."

"Whatever you say," he taunted. She swiped at him with sheathed claws.

"Which way now?" she asked.

He looked about him. "North," he meowed. "Come on." He set off deeper into the woods. Seconds later, she was by his side, looking around with delight. He couldn't keep his gaze off her, with her kit-like happiness and curiousity. Her eyes were wide with awe, and she was almost prancing.

"It's so beautiful. And you lived out here all the time?"

"Not here exactly, but a woods much like this. Prettier even."

She turned to him breathlessly. "Why did you leave?"

The question hit Ravenflight like a blow to the chest. He turned away abrubtly. "No reason!" he snapped. "I was just tired of it, okay?"

For once she was silent, and he regretted lashing out at her like that. Still, Paris could never understand his pain, with her pampered, soft little heart. She was so expecting, so sure PineClan would accept her with open arms. And determined, he had to admit. She was braver then any kittypet he had ever met before. But bravery wasn't enough to survive as a warrior.