Hello!
This is my second story here. I`ve had this idea floating around in my head for a few days, and I figured that I`d get it down on paper before I forgot.
This is an alternate universe story, as stated in the story summary. It`s my take on what would have happened if (SPOILER ALERT) Brightpaw had died in the dog attack instead of Swiftpaw.
Constructive criticism is welcomed.
So, without further ado, here we go! Enjoy!
His eyes snapped open.
It was dark- that much he could tell. Strange shapes moved in front of him, blurring into nothingness before his eyes could focus on them.
It took another moment before the pain wafted into his fragile conscience.
His body erupted in pain, from the tips of his claws to the hairs on the end of his tail. His left side, in particular, felt as if it were on fire; as if a cat with flaming claws had ripped through his black and white fur without mercy. He would have yowled in agony, if he had had the strength.
He blinked painfully, attempting to get up, look around, do something. He couldn`t. His body wouldn`t move, didn`t even seem to acknowledge the thought.
He was dying. That much he knew. If he couldn`t even lift his paws, there was no way that he could get anywhere. He would lay here, drowning in his own blood until StarClan came to the receive him.
It hurts so much. The young tomcat closed his eyes, wanting, pleading, for it to end. He willed the cold spots of light that shone in the night sky to come and take him. Please, just take him already. Take the pain away, please.
He blinked again. Another jolt of pain rushed through him. He felt it, the warm, sticky fluid dripping slowly across his muzzle- his blood. He watched it drip down, down, down…
If he was suffering like this, then how…
He widened his eyes.
Brightpaw.
Where was she?! The thought ripped through his already weary mind. The thought that she was lying somewhere, injured as he, was almost too much bear. If the latter was true, then he deserved to die.
This is my fault.
He had only wanted to be a warrior. But he shouldn`t have dragged her into it. Not this time. In the unlikely case that he survived, they would be confined to the med cat den for moons. They wouldn`t be able to do much of anything. They might never even become warriors.
A rush of panic clawed him, nearly knocking him out of his already weakening consciousness.
In the next instant, he heard a scream.
"Brightpaw!"
Brightpaw! So she was close by! And who was the cat who called her name? He swore that it was familiar…
An uneasy feeling crawled through his stomach.
He heard another voice. "Oh my StarClan… who did this to her?"
He blinked. Oh, no! She`s badly hurt, too…
Then he heard the words that changed everything.
"Fireheart… she can`t be…."
"I`m sorry, Cloudpaw. She`s dead. I`m so sorry, I should have done something sooner…"
Fireheart! Cloudpaw! So those were the voices he had heard. And Brightpaw…
As soon as the words registered in this head, what little remaining strength which he possessed failed him.
Whatever energy had allowed him to stay awake evaporated. Brightpaw was dead. She was dead.
It was all because of him. His efforts had been in vain.
He would die soon, too. He was certain of it now. He would die, and then join her in StarClan.
As his eyes closed, he heard muddled voices drifting at the edge of his mind.
"Fireheart! Swiftpaw`s still alive!"
He heard pawsteps- the closer they got, the farther they seemed. The voices floated around now, echoing aimlessly. They held no meaning. Nothing held any meaning now.
I`m sorry, Brightpaw. I broke my promise.
He could only hope that she would forgive him when he arrived in StarClan.
Thanks for reading!