Hey there you guys (: I was reading through this the other day and noticed a couple of mistakes, and they were really bugging me so here's a revised version. The actual story hasn't changed, I just fixed any mistakes I could find. If you see more, tell me in a review. Thanks, by the way, to those who have reviewed already!
This is just a quick one-shot on Swiftpaw's death. And I'm going to do some quick shameless plugging here - if you like this one, go and check out Going Home, which just happens to be my one-shot on Honeyfern's death ;3 Thanks guys!
* Some dialogue from Secrets of the Clans, pg. 12-13
A single ray of light illuminated the fern patch in which the apprentices slept, the spiked leaves waving stiffly in the crisp morning breeze. Alas, could it really be considered morning? The sun couldn't even be seen peeking over the horizon quite yet, hiding behind the peaceful veil of pre-dawn.
A small black-and-white tom unsheathed his claws and flexed them excitedly, eager yellow eyes blinking open. The tom, whose paws were much too big for the rest of him, scrambled up with a huge yawn, his tongue curling, and stepped over the sleeping forms of his Clan mates and gently prodded a she-cat in the flank, his gaze sweeping over her ginger-and-white pelt.
When the she-cat apprentice did not stir, the tom bared his teeth in frustration and poked her again, harder and more deliberately. "Brightpaw? Brightpaw!" Brightpaw's eyes flew open and she raised her head, startled. When she caught sight of the tom, she stifled a moan.
"S-Swiftpaw…what in the name of StarClan are you doing up so early? It's not even dawn yet!" Brightpaw blinked groggily at her fellow apprentice and started to lay her head down once again on her soft, mossy nest, but a quiet hiss escaped Swiftpaw's lips.
"Don't tell me you forgot about our plan already," he whispered, looking anxiously over his shoulder, worry passing over his face as he looked for any signs of his Clan mates waking. "If we don't get started now, the dawn patrol will catch us. You know that."
Brightpaw laughed, folding her legs into her belly tiredly. "We agreed it was a mouse-brained idea…now let me sleep, Swiftpaw."
"No!" Swiftpaw exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly. A bird squawked and flew out of the towering forest trees, beak open as it sounded a short alarm call. Swiftpaw winced, then looked back to Brightpaw, eyes blazing passionately. "They agreed it was a mouse-brained idea, which it is not." The wiry tom jerked his head at the rest of the ThunderClan apprentices, mouth twisting into a distasteful frown. "But I'm not going to stand it any longer. Bluestar's sure to make us warriors when we find out what's stealing our prey!"
Ears pricked in interest, Brightpaw shifted and stood slowly, hesitantly, as if taking her sweet time to consider the proposition, then finally sighed and nodded. "I suppose you're right. Let's go, then, and get back before somebody notices we're gone."
Swiftpaw's whole face lit up as he swiped the frown off his face and replaced it with a broad grin, whiskers quivering with excitement. "I knew you'd see sense. Come on, I know a secret way out of camp," the small tom meowed, leaping over Brightpaw's nest and heading for the elders' mossy old tree.
Brightpaw snorted. Swiftpaw turned to see the she-cat padding nonchalantly after him, face shadowed with uncertainty. "Over there?"
Rolling his eyes, Swiftpaw peered into the hollow tree, fur bristling as he caught sight of the old cats, deep in sleep. One day, I'll be sleeping here, too, he thought, puffing out his chest with pride. Without offering an answer to Brightpaw's disbelieving question, Swiftpaw slipped behind the tree and carefully parted the ferns, eyes twinkling as a secret path revealed itself, almost untouched by the Clan cats. A bird twittered in the distance, and Swiftpaw inhaled shakily and stepped behind the ferns, soft rays of light falling onto his back and making his pelt prickle.
"How long have you known about that?" But Brightpaw's question was rhetorical, and she soon bounded to the tom's side, eyes wide with wonderment. The ferns bounced back behind them, their leaves falling effortlessly into place and making it seem as if no cat had passed through there at all.
For the first time, Swiftpaw was beginning to doubt his own plan, that which had seemed brilliant and foolproof just the night before. What if we get lost? What if some cat finds us? What if whatever's eating the prey eats US, too? Questions ran through Swiftpaw's head like a rabbit on the wide open moors with no end in sight.
A twig snapped. Swiftpaw jumped, a low growl arising in the depths of his chest. Brightpaw's soft, tinkling laughter sounded from beside him – there was a faint amusement in her kind and gentle eyes, but Swiftpaw could see that she was scared, too. At least I'm not alone. A flash of sunlight shined into the tom's eyes, and he shut them tight, shivering even though it was not sun was beginning to rise, and they were walking much too slowly. With a hiss, Swiftpaw set off running, tripping over his own huge paws as he went.
Brightpaw was close behind him, her pawsteps light and careful compared to Swiftpaw's clumsy, lumbering gait. The fallen leaves buckled and cracked under their weight and their claws dug into the ground fiercely as they tried to quicken their pace, sending up a constant spray of dust behind them.
As they drew nearer and nearer to Snakerocks, they felt the tension in the air grow and tasted a dark, unfamiliar smell. Fur bristling, Brightpaw skidded to a halt. "Swiftpaw?" Her voice was soft and shaky, dripping with uncertainty. "Be careful…"
Swiftpaw leaped over a fallen tree and into the clearing that was Snakerocks. He turned, chest puffed out; but Brightpaw could see the fear he tried so hard to mask. "Don't worry, there's nothing here."
Brightpaw's breath caught in her throat as a shadow swept over her and straight towards Swiftpaw, hesitating at the entrance to the clearing. Then, as if the earth itself was holding its breath, there was a deafening silence for a heartbeat – it was broken by a snarl.
"Swiftpaw, watch out!"
It was too late. The dog seemed to smirk as it closed its jaws around Swiftpaw's throat, so delicate and fragile compared to the brute which had appeared so suddenly. Brightpaw let out a wail, wanting to turn away from the sight before her, but she was glued to the spot; frozen with fear. Swiftpaw let out a choked noise and his eyes flew open, bulging as if the dog was squeezing the life out of him, slowly but surely. His limbs flailed as he tried to get at the dog, claw it and push it off him. Growling, the dog tossed Swiftpaw aside like a ragdoll, its teeth red and dripping with the young tom's blood. The dog let out a howl and started toward Brightpaw, who stood cowering, with her tail between her legs and fur on end – helpless.
"Hey, you lazy heap of fur and bones, I'm over here!" Swiftpaw spoke through clenched teeth, it was obvious he in pain – he bled from his neck and various cuts and scratches across his body, but he had stood anyway, wearing a determined expression despite his shaking legs. The dog's eyes, yellow with hunger, widened, and darted back and forth between the two apprentices, as if unsure which to go for first. But then some sort of twisted amusement arose in its rabid expression and its comrades slithered out behind it, eyes gleaming as they saw their prey. The lead dog gave a low bark, and the sound rolled out into a long, loud growl. The others joined in, and their chant rang mockingly in Brightpaw's ears.
Pack, pack.
Kill, kill.
All the dogs seemed to spring forward as one, claws outstretched and fangs glittering white. Adrenaline pulsing through her veins, Brightpaw lashed out blindly, thinking only of Swiftpaw the whole time. And then her claws connected with flesh and she dug them in, holding on as strongly as she could. A high-pitched shriek registered in Brightpaw's ears and she turned, immediately recognizing the voice as Swiftpaw's. Two of the dogs had him cornered, but he was holding his own, slowly trying to back off while simultaneously striking out at the dogs' faces. And then one of the dogs gave a sharp snarl and knocked Swiftpaw to the side, sending him skidding across the clearing. Brightpaw could see the surprise in his eyes, and though he was quite clearly winded, he jumped to his paws, staggering, uncoordinated; to the nearest tree. But as he leaped up to grab hold of a branch, another dog jumped at him and clamped its jaws down onto the scruff of his neck and shook him like a piece fresh-kill.
"Swiftpaw, no!"
Swiftpaw sank to the ground, shuddering. And then the dog gave a snarl of triumph, raising a huge, blocky paw to deliver the fatal blow. Brightpaw yanked her claws from the dog's flesh and, ignoring its yelp of pain, bounded across the clearing, all the while keeping her eyes glued to the limp Swiftpaw, lying there at the mercy of a mindless killing machine. But she couldn't seem to move fast enough, it was as if she were suddenly trying to run through a thick pool of mud and her legs sunk deeper and deeper in with each step. Brightpaw opened her mouth to wail again, but then something huge and heavy came crashing down onto her spine, and she blacked out for a moment. When the sounds of the battle returned to her, her vision did not. Her eyes were sealed shut with blood. "No…" she moaned, barely resisting as something sent her flying across the clearing. The shrieks and snarls of the dogs sharpened for a few precious moments, long enough for Brightpaw to catch one last protesting caterwaul, and that was the last she heard of Swiftpaw.
But the dogs' eerie chorus still danced through her head.
Pack, pack.
Kill, kill.