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*The Fallen Rose ~ previous*
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𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔱𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔰

𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱

𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝑘𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝑦 𝔟𝔢 𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔢

𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔪

𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠 𝔴𝔞𝔯

The rankings were updated. Cats were buzzing around, checking on their new rankings from their morning activities, and reporting back to their cadres. Astra peered over Flanagan's shoulder as he stood straight, proud, even though no one thanked him for updating their leaderboard. Finally, Astra managed a clear view of the patch of dirt with the symbols for each group carved into the silt, the top five bigger than the rest and deeply engraved.

**⟴**

**⚭**

**➢**

**⍟**

**⎒**

➴

✿

◒

⊕

₩

➫

Φ

☄

Astra recognized her cadre's symbol, the arrow they had chosen to mark their aim to coming victory. It was all fabricated but it made for a nice mark on the leaderboard. She purred because sixth place wasn't so bad. She glanced at the elite symbols, at the very top of the board. Of course, most of them were senior cats, save for the one cadre in fifth place, who were in Astra's generation. She remembered training with them and their leader, Irenia. Nowadays, they were smugger than ever that they managed to beat everyone in their generation, including a couple senior cadres. Astra rolled her eyes, imagining Irenia's face if her cadre managed to beat hers. It wouldn't be a pretty sight but sweeter than ever.

The chestnut she-cat trotted back towards her cadre, all of them looking solemn yet eager. They were gathered in front of their den. "Sixth place," she announced with an excited lilt.

"*Not* elite?" Gemina tossed her head. "So that's what your amazing, kit-filled plan was for?"

Astra opened her mouth for a retort but Alabaster beat her to it. "Would you shut your trap? If you haven't noticed, Astra's plan brought us up three places. We're closer than ever!"

The silver she-cat's hiss sliced the air. "And why couldn't it move us up five? Or six? Was all that humiliation for an *average* rank?"

"So getting loads of attention from those trainees is humiliation? What's got your tail twisted now?" Astra shot back. "Or are you just furious it wasn't *your* idea that got us up high?"

Gemina's lashed her tail but didn't respond. Instead, she looked over at Cyril, whose usual placid face was apprehensive. "The end of the moon draws near," he meowed in his baritone voice. "I trusted Astra to bring us to the elite, seeing as the competition is seven days away. But if the highest credit didn't bring us there, then I cannot guarantee that we'll be safe."

Gemina's smirk vanished.

Astra gulped. She now felt the shame washing over her, realizing Gemina had been right all along. The elite were protected no matter what. Come the end of the moon, the cadres in the elite would be protected and supplied prey hunted by Delta herself, and the only way they lost it was if another cadre pushed them out. But Astra's foolish hope had made her believe that in the seven days, they could pull it off. But they couldn't. These were experienced seniors they were dealing with, whom they'd lost to over and over again. Cats had come into their cadre and gone, and somehow Astra had managed to survive all nine moons. Sure, they could beat Irenia's cadre in they worked hard enough. But Astra's plan was supposed to do that, and she'd failed them all. The next training session happened a quarter moon later, and it would be canceled as that was *the* end of the moon.

The chestnut-furred she-cat felt the sinking feeling now.

She's failed them all.

*But worst of all*, she thought, glancing at her rigid, white friend, *I failed Alabaster.*

That night, no one seemed up to another hunt. It seemed as if they'd given up; they wouldn't be safe at this point. Why even bother? No matter how much Astra chased after each of them, they always turned their back, or headed the opposite direction, or took refuge in a den that didn't belong to them. After Lysette turned on her snarling and hissed about how Astra had ruined everything and how she hoped Astra could rot as a dreg forever.

Now leaning against her cadre's den, Astra felt somber. Not even Alabaster wanted to listen to her. She'd tried to apologize but when she said that there was always a chance, he broke. Now Cyril was the only cat left, the strongest cat that could be in her favor. The moment she swayed him, everyone else had no choice but to follow. She wanted to convince him now - that is, if he wasn't completely missing from sight. He wouldn't be conversing with other cats in their dens, Delta was outside, scanning the camp, so he wasn't talking to her either. Astra peeked into their den. He wasn't there. Where *was* he? He couldn't patrol or hunt without his cadre, and all training sessions were over at this time.

Astra released a long, heavy sigh. Life felt like a weight, raising her into the high blue sky, only to mash her into the soily ground a moment later. Just as her tail drooped, and she turned to step back inside her den, an idea popped in her head. *They might be out,* she thought. *but it's worth a try.*

The chestnut-furred she-cat made her way to the fourth-ranked cadre den - or so, called Chelsie's Cadre and spotted her mother almost instantly. She was helping carving her cadre's symbol deeper to announce their victory of moving up a spot and remaining in the elite. Astra crept forward and lightly tapped on Claribel's smooth gray-furred back with her claw. Claribel spun around and her face lit up as she saw her daughter. "Astra!" She purred and covered Astra's face in licks.

"Mom," Astra giggled. "Stop."

Claribel turned to her work partner, Chelsie and nodded once. The ethereally beautiful cream-furred she-cat's gaze landed on Astra and her muzzle curved into a teasing smile and she nodded back, heading inside the den.

Claribel led Astra to a corner outside her den.