As I lay dying…

~Deadfoot's POV~

This is something that I've wanted to write for awhile because I always thought Deadfoot was a very interesting character and because he hasn't gotten any love whatsoever on FanFiction. I mean, it's kind of sad. I haven't seen a single story about him. And 'cause I've got to be different, I got to be the first one to write about him!

Oh, and please review, because I may do more of these if I actually get reviews. At the moment my priorities are "Picking on…" and "Falling Shadows" but this is kind of a test idea. By this, I mean, it's sort of an idea of telling stories from points of views of cats nobody ever sees. So tell me if you liked or not. A happy writer keeps writing and a happy writer is one who gets reviews. Basically, I'm going to assume that these types of stories are a bad idea if I don't get any reviews, so if you want to see this style from me in the future, tell me so.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Warriors ('cause if I did the focus would be on ShadowClan, I'd be filthy rich, and I wouldn't be writing fanfics…)

I always wanted to be the best warrior I could be. I always wanted to defend my Clanmates with tooth and claw, catch rabbits on the open moor, train apprentices to one day become the best warriors they could possibly be. I never really had any aspirations to be leader, I just wanted to be a loyal, noble warrior, the best I could be. This was back when I was a kit. Before my accident…

The black tom whirls, trying to dodge the blows of his enemy. Two cats, one that smells of ShadowClan the other of RiverClan, have him cornered, and he curses his twisted paw, curses the abomination to the Warrior Code that is TigerClan.

That cursed stone that seemed to fall from the sky. Oh yes, I was just a kit, play fighting outside the nursery when that dark gray stone fell on top of my front paw and crushed it. There was really nothing Barkface could do, and suddenly I was a crippled kit in WindClan no less, where speed is everything, and my future was suddenly in doubt.

He can't go on like this much longer. The paw, that wretched paw, is preventing him from dodging the blows of the lithe, strong TigerClan cats, those fox-hearted, kit-killing traitors, and he just couldn't move fast enough.

Even though she changed my name to Deadpaw when I was apprenticed—by that time every cat in WindClan thought I'd be trained a little then named Deadfoot and forced into an incredibly early retirement—Heatherstar did still let me train to be a warrior, and for that I am grateful even though I don't know if she really believed that I'd amount to anything. My mentor became Talltail, and, at first, I don't think he was happy to have been given the crippled apprentice. He was in line to become leader, Heatherstar's deputy at that point, and I think he was expecting to be given an apprentice who didn't limp all the time.

If he had to keep this up much longer, he would never get to see his kits…

I won Talltail over pretty quickly. I refused to be pitied. I wanted to learn how to do everything the other apprentices got to, and I worked at it all tirelessly. Catching rabbits proved to not be as difficult as everyone said it would be for me, I just had to hunt a little differently. Talltail was impressed when I figured out how to stalk up to a rabbit until I was about six foxlengths away and then race up to catch it. And, he was impressed that I was still faster than most cats, not as fast as my Clanmates though, but I could beat any other Clan cat in a race. But learning how to fight was proving to be extremely difficult, and I dreaded the day I'd have to fight. Because if I couldn't fight, I'd be made an elder…

He can't react fast enough. His lame foot, that cursed foot he was named for, is burning, dragging along uselessly, and he can't react fast enough. Two against one isn't fair, but against a cripple—the realization that he actually is crippled after years of making himself believe he wasn't hurt—it was a death sentence. Claws slice into him, pain envelops him, and all he can see is red. He knows this is the end, and he knows that now he will never get to see his kits…

Soon, I earned my warrior name, Deadfoot—Heatherstar still named me that even after I proved I was just as good as any cat, just as strong, able to hunt and defend himself—and even though being named Deadfoot hurt a little—actually, having my disability being part of my name, the name I had earned by proving I wasn't what every cat said I was, stung worse than being stung by a thousand thorns—I was still thrilled to actually be a warrior. I had done it! As a young warrior, I worked even harder to prove myself, prove that my name meant nothing. I hunted until my lame paw burned, always bringing back more freshkill than all the others, learned to fight by practicing by myself in the dead of night, practicing the moves that Talltail had taught me, moves that made it so I didn't have to rely on my paw. And, when Heatherstar lost her last life, Talltail, now Tallstar, paid me the greatest honor of all: naming me his deputy. Being named deputy made every cat in WindClan, at least, stop questioning me, and I had finally overcome the curse of my name, the curse of my foot. I wouldn't have to be an elder; I would get to serve my Clan after all. I would get to be the loyal, noble warrior, the best I could be after all. The dreams I had as a kit, still named Crowkit back in those days, were coming true.

Ashfoot, where are you? he wonders as he lies on the ground, the blood pooling around him, barely able to keep breathing. He wants to see her one more time, because he isn't a naïve apprentice, he knows he's dying. He can hear yowling around him, but the noise is fading, settling into a silence. Where was she? She couldn't be dead! She couldn't be. He wants to stand, wants to find her, but he can't summon the strength to. The redness of the world frightens him, but he knows that StarClan is waiting for him.

And then I fell in love. With Ashpaw, my second apprentice. I knew that wasn't supposed to happen, but it did. I loved her, and she loved me too. We were more than a mentor and an apprentice. She was such a good hunter, so fast, so strong, and she was just a nice cat. And she was one of the rare ones who didn't stare. She was so caring and considerate…She even told me one day, when she had finished her final assessment and was going to become a warrior that night, that my name was cruel. That was the day she also told me she loved me, and when she moved into the warrior's den that night…Soon, I found out she was going to have my kits, and I was thrilled. But she was convinced that nobody should know I was the father, and I had to keep it a secret. I almost couldn't forgive her for it, but when I first saw Eaglekit, I didn't care about that. And then Eaglekit died, when ShadowClan raided our camp and drove us out—my cursed foot prevented me from fighting like a true warrior—and I felt like my whole world had been shattered, even though only Ashfoot and I knew I was the father. I couldn't forgive myself.

He knows he has failed her. He just knows. First, when ShadowClan raided their camp, and now. Now because he is going to die and, even though once again no cat will know he's the father of her kits—Is she ashamed of me?—he won't be there for her. Cursed foot he thought he could beat. Cursed rock that crushed it. He was useless after all.

Eaglekit died. Because I told Tallstar we should retreat. We should've fought. And, in my rage at myself and my foot, I realized why Ashfoot refused to let anyone know I was the father of her kits: she was ashamed of me even though she acted like I was normal, treated me like I was normal. Deep down inside, she was just like everyone else. And the realization hurt. But, I still loved her. I really did. And, I think she loved me too. I think…

"Deadfoot?" he hears. The camp has grown ominously silent, and he had to wonder if WindClan had been driven out yet again and if they had left him behind. But he hears Ashfoot's sweet voice, and he knows that even though they most likely lost, they still have a home. "Deadfoot?" He wants to respond, tell her once again how much he loves her, but he can't. He feels her muzzle brush up against his fur, and he has to wonder if she thinks he's already dead. Then he hears her say, "Deadfoot, I love you. Please, please don't leave me. I need you." But he still can't respond, and he curses himself for not being able to, not being able to summon any strength to answer her. And then she mews something that warms him heart, "If I have a son, I'm going to name him Crowkit…"

When we returned home, thanks to Fireheart and Graystripe—as much as I hated being helped by enemy warriors, I wasn't stupid enough to believe we could have made it without them—everything pretty much went back to normal. I organized the patrols, advised Tallstar, and did everything I normally did. Everything was normal. Even Ashfoot, who was still upset over her—our—lost son began to act like her old self. And I was happy. Despite everything, despite being beaten in almost every fight—the fault of my twisted paw—I was so happy. Ashfoot and I spent so much time together, on patrols, in the warriors den, everywhere. We were, once again, inseparable. And I was so happy. Genuinely happy for the first time since I was Crowkit.

He wants to hold on longer, wants to be able to see his kits even though he knows he won't be able to, but he can't. The darkness overwhelms him. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Heatherstar standing before him, stars in her fur. "Deadfoot," she mews, "You have proven to be a loyal, courageous warrior. I couldn't be more proud of you. Welcome home."

It didn't last though. Tigerclaw took over our enemy, ShadowClan, and became Tigerstar. Even the knowledge that Ashfoot was once again pregnant with my kits—even though, once again nobody but us would know—didn't help. Because I knew Tigerstar was dangerous, and my fears were proven correct when the newly formed TigerClan attacked our camp…and I died.

He looks down and sees that his foot is still crippled. Frustration pelts through him, but he can't help but notice that Heatherstar, the one who named him based on his disability, didn't mention it. And he's slightly happy about that. But, he wishes that he could be back with Ashfoot, and he wants to yowl. Why couldn't I be a better mate? Why?

I'm still watching Ashfoot from StarClan. I can tell she still loves me. Even though she hasn't told anyone of our love…And, I chose Crowpaw, my son, to go on the journey to the Sun-drown-place, because I knew he could do it. Because he is Ashfoot and my son, and he, I can tell, inherited my heart. He won't fail, because he'll refuse to. And I couldn't be more proud of him…and I'll always watch over him.

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Oh, so known of you ask why the story is this way, here are the assumptions I made:

1) Deadfoot must have had a different name as a kit because he was crippled as a kit and no cat would name their kit Deadkit.

2) Heatherstar was still the leader when Deadfoot was apprenticed and when he had his Warrior Ceremony

3) Tallstar was his mentor when he was still Talltail (because that way he'd see what a great warrior Deadfoot is and would see how determined he is, despite his disability)

4) AshXDead is canon (which, if you look at Crowfeather, it makes sense. He has Deadfoot's coloring…and Deadfoot did choose him to go to the Sun-drown-place. Also, it makes sense Ashfoot wouldn't tell anyone about their relationship because *cough, cough* he is too old for her)

5) Ashfoot was Deadfoot's apprentice

Oh, and for all of you who think Deadfoot died in battle with BloodClan, you're wrong. He died in TigerClan's raid of WindClan's camp. Look it up. Oh, and the Hunters said that he was crippled as a kit when a stone (randomly) fell on his paw, so that's true.

Hope you enjoyed it! It actually was really fun to write and YIPPEE I get to be the first one on Fanfiction who wrote a Deadfoot story! YEA!

PLEASE REVIEW! The button is right there, calling your name. Please (as I mentioned in my opening) tell me what you think!

~Moore12~