This is a writing challenge [Challenge # 1] from Wingclan that I decided to try.

Prompt: You were walking along in the forest, just a normal loner, minding your own business. Suddenly, you hear a rustle in the bushes. Out of curiosity, you decided to investigate. To your utmost horror, there was a dead cat lying there. What happens next?

Word Limit: Hmmm...how about 600 a minimum of 500 words?

Total Word Count: 1,386

The Curiosity That Killed

The cold leafbare sun shone over the forest of leafless trees, their branches clawing angrily towards the sky and swaying with the slight breeze. In the distance, a cluster of clouds was growing nearer, an ominous forewarning of the oncoming storm. In the branches of one of the oaks, a tom crouched, keen eyes focused on how the ground gave way into a valley-like area, which seemed to be the center of the scents of many cats. The grey tabby made a note of where the territories seemed to end, reminding himself to keep well away from the border. Clan cats were very protective of their territories. The scar over his nose was a reminder of that. A large tom like himself was seen as a threat no matter how harmless he told them he was. He dropped to the ground, the grass crunching under his paws. A small layer of frost had collected on the grass below him, so thin that it broke in clusters beneath his paws with his every step.

Grateful for the fact that the bushes provided some protection from the icy breeze, Hail began his journey around the outer layer of the clan's territory. After a few minutes of walking, he found himself at the border to one of the territories, and decided to walk along this instead of guessing at the rim of the territories. He shivered from the cold, hoping he would be able to outrun the storm or at least find a place to stay by the time it released its fury upon the land.

The large tom was about to pick up into a run when he suddenly heard a rustling in the brush to his right. He stopped, peering into the territory and lifting his nose to the air. It wasn't prey. Well aware that the storm was steadily catching up with him, he still felt intensely curious.

"Hello?" He called into the silence of the forest with no reply. The rustling did not come again. Although everything told him to leave it alone, the noise intrigued him. It was not prey. No one had called back when he asked. He somehow convinced himself that there was no harm in trespassing in the slightest to see what he had heard. He moved silently into the territory, glancing around but not seeing any other cats.

He padded cautiously to the bush where the noise had come from, his eyes searching for movement among the plant. He thought he could see something there, something brown. He moved into full view of the object of interest, and a wave of nausea washed over him. There lay a brown she-cat, her innocent blue eyes wide open in terror. Her mouth hung slack, and a wide gash ran across her neck. The frozen grass where she lay was red with her blood.

He shakily approached the she-cat, the reek of death all about her. He sniffed at her wounds, accidentally getting some of her blood on his muzzle. Horrified, Hail took a few steps back, looking frantically around. What had killed this cat? What… or who… The gash in her neck was fresh. Her death was recent. And dead cats didn't make bushes rustle.

Even as he thought this, a voice sounded from behind the large grey tabby. "Hey!" He whirled around to see an orange tom being joined by two other cats. All three of them suddenly caught sight of the she-cat and the blood on his muzzle.

One gasped, while the fiery tom let out a heartbroken shout. "Dawnheart!" Their features contorted into anger, and he immediately knew what they thought. They unsheathed their claws and the first moved to attack him.

"This isn't what you think!" He hissed as the orange charged him. This did nothing to stop him.

"You killed her!" The clancat's enraged voice roared as he leapt at the grey tabby. Seconds later, he was joined by the other two cats as they began their assault on Hail. Many moons of defending himself gave him the upper paw in most battles, but against three well trained warriors, he knew he stood no chance. He fought them off as best as he could, and moved a couple more steps closer to the border as he did, until he was out of their territory again. Breathing hard, he turned and ran. While he could hear two of the cats stop at the border, he looked behind him to see that the ginger pelted tom was still on his heels.

Turning quickly around, Hail roared, "I didn't do it! I found her like that!"

"Liar!" Without missing a beat, the tom barreled into him, rolling the two along the icy grass and even further away from the territory. The toms wrestled each other, but Hail was stronger. He pinned the clancat and held him there.

"On my honor, I found her like that!" He shouted into the tom's face. "Please, you have to believe me!"

With a powerful swipe, the russet tom knocked Hail's leg out from under him, and they both got up, facing each other with their teeth bared and claws unsheathed.

"Please – I didn't kill her. The blood on my muzzle – it's from checking her wounds. I heard something in your territory and thought I should see what it was… It was another cat that did it."

Fast as lightning, the orange tom rushed up a tree, but halfway up, he turned, pushed off of the tree and landed on top of Hail, his momentum knocking the larger cat to the ground. The grey tabby felt the air rush out of him, rendering him unable of any sound or movement for a few seconds. The orange tom pressed his claws into Hail's neck. He gave a quick glance around, and Hail did as well. They were out of hearing range of the other cats. Noting this, the heartbroken anger suddenly faded from the orange tom's features, as if he had suddenly become an entirely different cat. A wicked look came to his eyes, and with one paw, he kept the tom pinned, and the other he raised into the air, claws unsheathed.

"I believe you." The tom said simply. He did not lower his paw, and his claws remain unsheathed.

"Y-you do?" Hail asked, skeptical of the tom's sudden personality change.

The fiery tom nodded. "I do."

"Then let me go." Hail growled… but then he looked up to the upraised paw, and he thought of the dead she-cat. Her neck was slit... "It… you. It was you!"

The fiery tom gave a low, menacing chuckle. "Clever tom, aren't you? Unfortunately for you… my clan back there can't know that. As far as they are concerned, my mate was killed by a loner who soon paid for his actions… and I can't let them think any different." He features contorted into a snarl, lip pulling back to reveal all of his stained teeth and nose crinkling at the ridge. And then his claws came down, ripping open a wide gash in Hail's neck.

The loner went to yowl with pain, but no sound came from him as his lifeblood began to pool beneath him in the icy grass. The tom's weight moved off and away from him, and Hail's strength drained, causing him to roll to one side. He felt his toes go numb, then his legs, then the rest of his body. His vision of the icy grass around him slowly faded to black. The last thing he heard before his hearing faded was the tom's voice as he spat, "Send my regards to 'Starclan'."

And in his final moments, as he slipped out of his body and into the unknown, there was only one thing he could be sure of:

His curiosity had killed him.