Blood in the Snow
Hope you don't mind, Swyfte, but I kind of randomly made up cats and chucked them together to make a fake PureClan for this story. I know it has really bad spelling, grammar and all, but… it's an entry. I felt enticed to do it, so… I did.
Foxkit let a smirk mark his muzzle. "Oh, it's little Yewkit, trying to make friends. But she's poisonous, she's got the poison!"
Sandkit and Mintkit yelped, and ran away into the forest. They shot amused yet disgusted looks back at their sister.
Protests pilled in Yewkit's mind. She didn't care about Foxkit- he wasn't even meant to be here, playing with them. It was forbidden, and he was a mouse-brain.
"You can't go out there, it's not allowed until we're apprentices!" Yewkit wailed. "Please, come back, come back! I haven't got the poison, I haven't!"
Foxkit dug a dark ginger shoulder roughly into her back as he ran past, knocking her over with his heavy weight. "Oops. See you later, Poisonkit!" he laughed, and ran after Yewkit's sisters.
A growl made its way up her throat, spilling out of her mouth roughly.
It wasn't fair. All she wanted was someone to play with, and her sisters fell for Foxkit's taunts. He wasn't supposed to even be near them, yet alone have a taunting match with them!
"Oh, Yewkit, why are you out all alone in the freezing cold like this?" The smell of borage made its way into her nose. It was her mother, Beechtail.
"Sandkit and Mintkit-" Yewkit started, but Beechtail's ear flicked a pale grey ear in silence.
"I know, they're at the elders den again."
No, Yewkit thought. But they are usually, yes.
Her mother dragged her into the nursery, and started grooming Yewkit's marbled grey fur of the mountains of snow that were just beyond the den.
"Now, you weren't playing with Foxkit again, were you?" She asks between the licks of her heavy tongue.
"No," Yewkit growled.
They won't let me play.
"Good. You three spend so much time in his company; I'm surprised you all haven't caught the poison." Beechtail scolded, and her voice was full of anger.
"Or whitecough and greencough," she added after a few thorough licks.
Yewkit closed her eyes, and fell asleep when her mother had reached her middle back.
There was a small, bedraggled body in the middle of all the white. Around it laid a broad circle of stained red snow. Red liquid fell off of Sandkit's back in rivulets.
"Beechtail," Yewkit asked. "What happened to her? Is she sleeping?"
Beechtail smiled weakly. "That's right, Yewkit. She sleeps with StarClan now."
"Why?"
"Sandkit"- her mother let out a small sound, sounding like a sob and a choking noise at the same time – "Thought she was needed more up there, so she went to help entertain the elders."
"Will she come visit?"
"One day, Yewkit. One day, we'll sleep with StarClan too." She replies hoarsely.
"Beechtail, stop feeding her this nonsense immediately," her father, Oakclaw, spat. "You're feeding her the poison."
"Where's Mintkit?" Yewkit asked brightly, not hearing her father over the raging wind.
"Over there." Her mother pointed a grey tail at her sister, who sat a fair distance away from Sandkit.
As she turned to leave she caught a hiss that her mother shot at Oakclaw.
Yewkit merrily walked over, earning weird looks from surrounding cats. "Hi. Beechtail says that Sandkit left to help StarClan! She sleeps with them, now."
Mintkit scowled darkly, a shadow over her face. "Yeah, sure she does. Oh, and thanks for not telling anyone about us being out of camp. Now I can't be the medicine cat like I wanted, because Sandkit 'left'. Now I have to be a warrior. Thanks a lot, Poisonkit."
"You have a choice, don't you?" Yewkit mewled.
"Not anymore," Mintkit spat. "I have to be a warrior, to take Sandkit's place."
"That's not very nice of Sandkit."
"No, that's not very nice of you." Mintkit retorted.
The comment stung, but Yewkit had no idea what Mintkit was talking about. So she sat down in the nursery, tail over her nose, trying to ignore Foxkit's devastated mews coming from Sandkit's body.
She turned away, and noticed one kit that hadn't come out of the nursery. It was Aspenkit, a light brown tabby tom, who was five moons old now- like her. They looked at each other, and because no one was there, they didn't hesitate to hold the other's gaze.
That was the last day Foxkit was sane, and Mintkit wasn't bitter.
Every night, the dark ginger tom would have nightmares.
"Sandkit…. Sandkit! No! Help! Fox! Fox! There's a fox! Help Sandkit! Someone, please help!" He would yowl in his sleep.
Aspenpaw and Yewpaw would exchange aggravated glances each night, when everyone else was asleep. It was obvious they weren't heavy sleepers like the rest.
Some nights, Aspenpaw and Yewpaw would just mumble to each other.
"How do you catch mice?"
"They'll feel you before they see you, I think. Is that it? No."
"Are you learning to hunt tomorrow?"
"I'm learning crouches, yeah."
Each morning they were exhausted, but every time their mentors asked them about it they would answer the same thing: Foxpaw. It was true, but they kept each other awake.
So, knowing that one tom and one female couldn't sleep while in the same den, to prevent interaction of the two, they made separate dens for she-cat apprentices and tom apprentices.
Sometimes she would lay awake, thinking about what Aspenpaw would say when Mintpaw started jerking in her sleep, muttering: "Borage, poppy seeds, marigold and…. honey. Chervil root, dock leaves, juniper berries and thyme."
After being so used to being awake all night, it had almost become immediate despite Foxpaw keeping her up. She thought about apprenticeship, she thought about the pairs and the queens. She thought about Aspenpaw, and if maybe he was awake too.
Sometimes she thought she could see him, sitting outside the apprentice den, and try to ignore the urge to walk over and chat. It was just… normal. It felt like something other cats- non PureClan- would just do. But it would give her the poison, and she would be killed. So she stayed outside the she-cat apprentice den with her mouth firmly shut.
"The pairs are; Mintfrost and Blueclaw, Yewfeather and Foxfoot; Poppythorn and Aspenfoot." Froststar yowled.
No. Not Foxfoot. He hated her, she hated him. He thought she had killed Sandkit, by not telling anyone about them going into the forest. Foxfoot claimed he had loved Sandkit, and Yewfeather had killed her. She didn't tell anyone, not even Aspenfoot, who she had been secretly talking to in the meadow.
Froststar flashed a sharp and grim smile at her directly, showing her shiny fangs. Yewfeather quickly nodded respectively and turned away. She couldn't tell whether Froststar was baring her teeth or smiling. For such a dull furred, evil she-cat, it couldn't be much different.
Foxfoot sullenly walked over to her, disdain portrayed in his eyes for a second. They turned away, and Yewfeather caught Aspenfoot's gaze silently. She sent him a sorrowful look, and then followed Foxfoot to the fresh kill pile.
"Hey," she purred.
Aspenfoot lowered himself on the tall meadow grass. "Hi."
They nuzzled each other.
Yewfeather instinctively sniffed the air. "Heard of any raids coming up?"
Aspenfoot went on a mission to capture three tainted for a warrior ceremony with the deputy, and returned early yesterday.
"Nope," he meowed. "But I get tomorrow off."
She purred again. "Hey, listen, I'm expecting kits now."
"Foxfoot's?" Aspenfoot asked curiously.
They had agreed that if they needed to have kits with their pair that was alright, because otherwise it would be suspicious. They were both a bit wary about it, though.
"Well, of course not! He's moping around like usual, making comments about how his name killed Sandkit and that fox dung smells of wet fur."
"It really broke him, didn't it?" He says.
Yewfeather flicked an ear dismissively. "I'm surprised he remembered it- he was half conscious most of the time. He almost got killed himself by that fox."
"Well, kits," he licked her over the head proudly. "Will you be moving into the nursery?"
"In a few days," she told him. "I don't know about you, but I think that Foxfoot's going to really hate these kits. You know, because he thinks they're his and also because they aren't Sandkit's."
"He needs to get over it," Aspenfoot yowled over the swaying grass. "I hear him every night- mewing on about foxes and Sandkit."
My tail lashed. As much as I loathed Foxfoot, I still feel sorry about Sandkit. She was my sister, and now she's just, well, dead.
"That's enough talk about Foxfoot. What did you see on your trip?"
"Well-"
"Well, well, well, Foxfoot, may we, ah, ask you some questions quickly?" Froststar hissed, but loud enough for the clan to hear.
The ginger tom gulped. His fur was ruffled, and a deep but short claw mark was on his flank, dripping blood into the Greenleaf grass. By now a large circle around him was coated with the thick red liquid.
-There was a small, bedraggled body in the middle of all the white. Around it laid a broad circle of stained red snow-
She shook her forelegs in anticipation, sending squealing kits tumbling away from her paws.
-Red liquid fell off of Sandkit's back in rivulets-
Graykit, an exact replica of Yewfeather, leant heavily against her side.
Vinekit, a silver and grey she-cat, shouldered past Graykit to get closer. The only reason she was alive was because of the lack in she-cat medicine roles.
Oakkit, a dark brown tabby tom, sat in front of Yewfeather while jostling with Vinekit to see their 'father' better. It was a miracle the tom had a reddish tinge to his fur; she was worried that he would turn out just like Aspenfoot.
Speaking of him, he jerked his muzzle to her without glancing in her direction.
She knew what it meant. Stay calm.
"Be quiet," she told Oakkit sternly.
Back in the centre of the ring, "Yes, you may ask me questions," replied Foxfoot stiffly, staring past Froststar at the forest.
"You have been keeping many warriors, apprentices and den mates alike awake with your nightmares. How long have these nightmares been, ah, occurring?"
"They have been occurring ever since the fox attacked, Froststar." He answered, with the same monotone voice.
"Right, then, that's a nice answer dear. Who did the fox attack?" Froststar questioning, keeping her beady amber eyes fixed on Foxfoot.
"Mintfrost,"- he gulped – "Sandkit, and…. I."
"Okay," Froststar meowed quietly. "I have had reports than you were sad at Sandkit's death, hmm?"
"Yes, she was a den mate." Foxfoot looked suspicious to where this conversation was going.
"Was she more than a den mate? No other kit, apprentice or warrior seemed to mind. But you did, Foxfoot. Can you explain why?"
"I get overwhelmed by deaths," Foxfoot answered hollowly.
"Do you mean by your own death, perhaps?" Froststar asked.
"Well, I would never know until it happened. But I would imagine so, yes."
"Can you explain why other warriors have reported you saying in your sleep, 'Sandkit, don't die. Please don't die. Sandkit, I love you, don't die!" Froststar snarled with her eyes wide and demanding.
The whole clan gasped. Vinekit started to shake.
"I- I… It's true, Froststar. I'm sorry, but this is stupid. I must say. What a stupid clan this is, that you can't do anything but hate the other gender. Then you just produce kits to keep the clan alive. Where is the point in this?"
Froststar backed up, and launched herself at Foxfoot, looking grimly pleased. The kits flinched at Yewfeather's paws. She used her tail to guide them against her belly.
With a final, fierce snarl, Froststar bared her fangs. Her teeth met Foxfoot's throat, and Yewfeather shut her eyes tightly. She was soft when they killed those she knew, but not while they killed Tainted.
Despite the blood pouring out of Foxfoot's throat, thick and fast, he leapt up slowly, leaping at Froststar who was walking away smugly.
It dripped over the grass, and for a second she imagined Sandkit once more- blood dripping from her scarring wounds, into the snow around her, tinting the snow with the thick blood that ran fast.
Froststar could hardly contain her surprise as Foxfoot leapt. She let out a high shriek, but it was too late. Foxfoot had ripped out her white throat. Everyone gaped. A half-dead tom with a lethal neck wound killed one of the greatest PureClan leaders with a swift bite? What was this?
"Sandkit?" Foxfoot whispered. "Have you come to take me?"
A small smile lit his face, and he rolled off of Froststar's limp body, dead.
But Yewfeather knew that one day, they would find out about her too. They would find out about her love for Aspenfoot and their kits that were yowling by her paws. She couldn't let that happen, they couldn't know. She was powerless, but her kits wouldn't be.
But for now, she had a friend- she dared, yes- to mourn for and kits to raise. She would teach them about love, maybe, and they'd hate the other gender just that bit less.
So she let the kits weep, wail and shriek in terror. They would need this moment to become strong against this world. She calmed them, and she soothed them. Aspenfoot sent her a comforting look, which she gratefully relished. So she left the kits with him and went to say goodbye to who was her sister's love and ultimately insane friend.
When she bent her head to say goodbye, the blood surrounding Foxfoot's body. When she lifted her head she could have sworn she saw Sandkit, smiling, in front of her. Without the wounds of the fox or the blood that matted her fur. She smiled back.
I'll admit this is not a powerful piece that I wanted it to be. I'll say that, at least. There wasn't much of the falling in prohibited love business; it mainly focused on Foxfoot and Sandkit. But still, there was something between Aspenfoot and Yewfeather as well. It lost its mojo after the first part. I'll admit that as well.
Okay. So, hope this was alright. Probably was really bad, but, oh well. Thanks for reading.
Drop a review if you have, I don't know, thirty seconds or so.
-Weald :D