Mouseheart's eyes fluttered open to dim lighting and the bitter touch of leafbare. Blinking a few times, he heaved himself onto his paws, and looked around. A few cats were still asleep, but most cats had left the warriors' den to go outside. Shaking his fur, the tabby padded out of the den, to the hollow. Many cats had already sat down, sharing tongues with one another. At his arrival, many cats started to greet him, and he went over to the fresh-kill pile.
Like yesterday, there was barely anything on it. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he leaned down and grabbed a vole. It wasn't a plump one, but it would work. He padded over to Stormspark, who was eating a rather plump mouse.
"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" Mouseheart asked quietly.
"Not at all," the gray tom answered. Nodding, the tabby laid down next to his friend, and began eating his vole.
"You know, Stormspark…" he started. "Do you really think I'm fit to be deputy?"
"If Molestar thinks so, then of course!" the warrior responded cheerfully. "Why do you ask?"
Mouseheart paused, the mishap at the dusk patrol still fresh in his mind. "…It's just… nothing has been going right for me."
Stormspark remained silent, with a worried look on his face. Taking a bite out of his mouse, he gave a slight nod.
"Uh huh," he uttered. The gray cat turned his head towards the deputy. "But hey, it couldn't get worse."
The tabby let out a sigh. "What if I get someone killed?" he queried. "That's how it can get worse."
"…I guess you're right," the tom meowed. "But I doubt that's going to happen. You're pretty good at making sure no one gets hurt."
"Still, I'm worried," Mouseheart pointed out. "I don't even know if StarClan approves of me being deputy."
"Why don't you ask Ravendusk if she got a sign from them?" Stormspark suggested. "Surely she would know if you're worthy or not."
Hesitating, the deputy took a bite out of his vole. Maybe he's right, he thought. Maybe Ravendusk would know something. But at the same time, I don't think that will get me anywhere.
"I'll do that later," he replied. "I have to organize the dawn patrol, anyways."
"Okay," the warrior meowed. "Even if she didn't, you shouldn't let yourself down. That won't get you anywhere!"
"I wish I could be." The brown tabby slumped, gazing at the half-eaten vole in his paws. Taking another bite, he did not bother to look over at his friend. He had more things to worry about, like who will be on the border patrol.
"Look, Mouseheart," Stormspark started. "If you're ever feeling down, please remember that your friends are here for you." The tom lifted his head to look over at him. His ear twitching, the warrior smiled. "Like me! If you ever feel down, you can tell me what's wrong. Or Icefoot, too!"
Mouseheart couldn't help but give a small smile. "Thanks, Stormspark. You're a great friend."
"So are you!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad to be your friend!"
The deputy finished his vole, and then stood up. Stormspark was finishing up his mouse, too, but he wasn't done with it yet. He rested his green eyes on the gray tom, flicking his tail. Mouseheart had an idea.
"Hey, Stormspark, do you mind leading the dawn patrol?" he asked.
"The dawn patrol?" the warrior lifted his head. "No, I don't mind at all! In fact, I'm honored to lead one."
The tabby nodded his head. "You deserve it." In a more serious tone, he meowed, "Now, once you decided who's going to be on your patrol, report back to me, alright?"
"I can do that," Stormspark meowed. "I've led a patrol before, you know."
"I know… But a reminder wouldn't hurt," Mouseheart meowed. "Make sure to bring Weaselpaw, too. This will be a good experience for him."
"I can go get him if you want me to," the tom offered. "He's such a pain in the tail, though. He complains about everything, and it's only been two moons!"
"Yikes," he remarked. "I feel bad for you. That's probably the worst attitude someone could have."
Stormspark let out a sigh. "Well, I'm not complaining about it, am I? Despite this, I know it's all going to be over soon."
I wish I could be as optimistic as him, the tabby told himself. "Well, you can choose who will be on the patrol, now. Report back to me once you have."
"Alright, I'll try my best," the gray warrior promised. He then padded off to the apprentices' den, and Mouseheart gave a slight nod, and went his separate ways.
Jumping onto a ledge, he looked at the hollow. It was slowly coming to life, with warriors sharing tongues and eating, kits prancing in the light snow, and other cats emerging from their dens to start the day. The deputy spotted Stormspark dragging a brown tom, Weaselpaw, from the tail, while the apprentice let out a yowl of protest. He cringed, not wanting to face what the poor tom was enduring.
His ear twitching, he decided that now would be the time to assign a hunting patrol. Climbing down to the hollow, he looked around for someone to lead it. Spotting a brown tom emerging from the warriors' den, he realized that he found the leader of said patrol.
"Mossyfall," Mouseheart called.
The tom's green eyes focused its gaze on the deputy. "Yes?"
"I am choosing you to lead the hunting patrol," he replied.
"Can I see my kits first?" Mossyfall asked. "I don't really have much time to see them otherwise."
"Go ahead," the deputy meowed. "Just make it quick, though."
"Thank you!" The mottled warrior padded past Mouseheart, prompting the small tom to watch him. Turning his head, he smiled. "Do you want to see them? I suppose they never met you."
The tabby tom shuffled his paws. He supposed he had nothing else to do. "Sure."
"Great!" The stocky tom bounced off to the nursery, with Mouseheart trailing behind. Near it, three fluffy kits were wrestling with a moss ball, with a pale ginger she-cat, Dovetail watching not far from them.
"Hey, everyone," Mossyfall announced. The kits stopped their antics, and looked up at the brown warrior.
"Papa!" a pale ginger she-kit resembling Dovetail squeaked. Her littermates, a ginger tom and a light brown tom, looked up at the tom with bright eyes.
"Mossyfall!" the pale ginger she-cat exclaimed. "It's so good to see you!"
"Nice to see you, too." The mottled brown tom went up to the she-cat and brushed his tail against her, and then sat down next to her. The three kits pranced around Mossyfall's paws in excitement.
"I wish I could stay," Mossyfall started, "but I've been chosen to lead a hunting patrol."
"Aw…" the light brown tom whined. "You always lead patrols!"
"I know," he muttered. "But I have to do them, it's all part of being a warrior."
"I want to be a warrior!" the ginger tom-kit squeaked.
"When you're six moons, you can be an apprentice," their mother meowed. "And when you complete your training, you can become a warrior!"
"But I want to be one now!" the she-kit protested.
"You have to be patient, Fawnkit," Mossyfall meowed. "Patience will reward you in the future."
"But I'm not patient," Fawnkit mewed.
"But I am!" the brown kit squeaked. "I can wait until we're six moons!"
"I bet he can't," the ginger tom betted.
"Now, now, kits," Dovetail meowed. "Your father's right. Patience will reward you."
Hushing the kits, the pale ginger she-cat walked up to Mouseheart. "So, congratulations on becoming deputy, Mouseheart."
"Thank you," he muttered, dipping his head.
"Isn't Snowface the deputy?" the light brown tom pointed out. The other two kits murmured in agreement.
Dovetail and Mossyfall exchanged nervous glances, and looked down at their kits.
"W-Well, let's just say that he won't be coming back any time soon, Oakkit" Mossyfall tried to explain.
"He died," Mouseheart put bluntly.
"Mouseheart!" Dovetail scolded. "They're just kits!"
"Dovetail, honey," the mottled tom whispered. "It's good to know what death is sooner or later."
"But they're so young!" the pale ginger queen gasped.
"How did he die?" the ginger tom asked. Letting out a groan, his mother looked over at the kit.
"A treacherous cat killed him," Dovetail answered. "It's sad, indeed."
"Will we ever see him again?" Oakkit asked.
"He's always here with us," Mossyfall meowed. "At night, every star you see in Silverpelt represents a warrior of StarClan."
"Wow…" Fawnkit mewed in wonder.
"Then who's the new deputy?" the ginger tom-kit asked.
"This cat right here!" the pale ginger she-cat pointed to Mouseheart, causing the kits to turn their attention to him. "His name is Mouseheart."
"Nice to meet you," the tabby introduced himself.
"He's small," Oakkit commented. His littermates nodded in agreement.
"I know that," he meowed, embarrassed. His gaze went down to the kits. "So, what are your names?"
"Oakkit!" the brown kit squeaked.
"Fawnkit!" the she-kit exclaimed.
"And I'm Flamekit!" the ginger tom exclaimed, puffing out his tiny chest.
Mouseheart let out a purr of delight. "Well, it's nice to be enthusiastic."
"I want to be deputy one day!" Fawnkit mewed.
"No, I will!" Flamekit argued.
"I'm the best kit! I should be deputy!" Oakkit whined.
"Well, you have to work extra hard to be one," the deputy explained.
"We'll work extra hard!" the kits mewed. At their statement, they all started arguing again.
Mossyfall let out a mrrow of laughter. "Well, kits, I have to go. I still have the hunting patrol to do, after all."
"Aww…" Fawnkit whined. "I wish you would stay longer.
"Me too," he agreed. "Perhaps I'll come see you after the patrol."
"Okay!" Flamekit piped. "We'll be waiting!"
"Yes, I'll be waiting, too," Dovetail meowed. "See you later, Mossyfall."
"Goodbye!" Mossyfall padded off, looking for cats to put on the hunting patrol.
"I guess I'll make my leave, too," Mouseheart meowed. "Being the deputy is keeping me on my paws."
"I'm sure it is," the pale ginger queen purred. "Isn't it hard?"
"Yeah." The deputy gave a slight nod. "I never realized how much time and effort came with being the deputy of ThunderClan. And it's only been a day!"
"Well, goodbye, Mouseheart." Dovetail looked down at her kits. "Say bye, everyone."
"Bye!" the kits mewed. Giving a small smile, the mangy tom left the area, and decided to go talk to Molestar. Perhaps he could get some insight on how to manage his deputy tasks, or perhaps he had found something new in regards to the mystery revolving around Snowface's murderer. Or maybe he just had more tasks to assign to him. Mouseheart sighed. That would just weigh him down even further.
Just as he reached the entrance to Molestar's den, he heard a voice shout from the hollow below.
"Hey, Mouseheart!" Stormspark called. "We're ready!"
The tabby turned around, looking down at the cats below him. To get a better look, he climbed down to a ledge just above them, and observed who he was taking.
As he expected, the gray tom was in the front of the group, with his apprentice, who had an annoyed expression on his face, next to him. Behind him was a brown tom with a noticeably torn ear, Kestrelshade, a smoky gray tom, Mistnose, and his apprentice, a black-and-brown she-cat named Sootpaw.
"Can we go already?" Kestrelshade asked. "I'm getting impatient."
Wincing at the warriors comment, he gave a slight nod. "Alright," Mouseheart confirmed. "You may go now."
"Thanks!" Signaling for the patrol to follow him, Stormspark left the camp, with the other cats not far behind.
The deputy decided to remain on the ledge for now. He knew that Mossyfall would soon arrive with his patrol, and check in with him in order to leave. He had to take his job more seriously, especially since it was leafbare. The Clan couldn't afford to have no fresh-kill on the pile, and the only solution was to go hunt some more. Sooner or later, cats will go out hunting, and mentors will train their apprentices, even in the bitterness of leafbare.
However, Beesong running off was still in Mouseheart's mind. She had not returned to ThunderClan camp yet, causing worry to rise within the tabby tom. What if something had happened to her? If that was the case, it would all be his fault.
"Mouseheart! I have the patrol all set up!" Mossyfall announced, grabbing the tom's attention.
Looking up at the group of cats, the mottled brown tom was in the middle of two other cats – a gray-and-white she-cat and a cream she-cat, who he immediately recognized as Seedbreeze. A small gasp escaped his mouth, the warm feeling he had around the warrior returning. He shuffled his paws, and tried to focus himself on Mossyfall.
"H-Hey, Seedbreeze," he stuttered.
"Hello," she greeted.
The gray-and-white she-cat let out a frustrated groan. "Mouseheart, I thought you were going to send us off, not talk with your mate," Froststing chided.
"She's not my mate!" he snapped. "We're…" The tom looked around nervously. "We're… just friends," he spat out. I wish we were more, though.
"Oh sure, you're 'just friends'," she snapped, and rolled her eyes. "You have a hopeless love life."
"It's not hopeless!" he protested.
The cream she-cat gave him a confused looked, but said nothing.
"A-Anyways, you're free to go!" Mouseheart affirmed.
"Thank you," Mossyfall meowed. He looked behind him to the two she-cats. "Come on, you two. Let's go."
"Ugh, fine," Froststing groaned. She started to grumble something intelligible, although the tabby believed it was about him. He watched as the three cats made their way out of the camp, and then returned his attention to the hollow.
Now that both patrols were sent out, he could go talk to Molestar. Taking one final look at the camp, he got up, ready to climb up to the leader's den to talk to the brown-and-cream tom. Stretching, he began to climb up the hollow, to the ThunderClan leader's den. Arriving at the entrance of it, he saw Molestar, standing on the ledge of it. The deputy's arrival caught the tom's attention, and he turned over to look at him.
"Why, hello, Mouseheart," the leader greeted. "Is there something you want to talk to me about?"
"Yes," he meowed. "…Can we talk about it in your den?"
"Have you sent out the dawn patrol yet?" Molestar questioned.
The light brown tom nodded. "I just did."
"Good, good," he purred. "Yes, we can talk about it." The brown-and-cream tom started to walk into his den, signaling for Mouseheart to come with him.
When they got inside, they sat down, the large tom towering over the deputy. He gulped, nervous about the leader's unwavering gaze.
"So," Molestar started. "What is it that you want to talk to me about?"
"It's just… I don't feel worthy to be the deputy of ThunderClan," Mouseheart admitted.
"Come on, Mouseheart," he consoled. "It's only been a day. I can safely say from experience that not every cat can handle their deputy duties right away."
"Are you sure? Snowface seemed like a natural when he was appointed," the tabby remarked. The black tom had been deputy since Mouseheart was a kit, all those moons ago. He tried to remember who the previous deputy was, but no name popped into his head.
"Well, every cat seems to handle it differently," the leader explained. "I remember when I was appointed deputy by Bramblestar. The first moon I was the deputy, I struggled to keep up with my duties. But afterwards, I managed to pull myself together as I got used to them."
"But I already messed up," Mouseheart cried. "I scared away Beesong, and now Swiftflurry is mad at me."
Molestar's ears perked up in alarm. "Wait, you scared away Beesong?"
The tom's ears flattened. "…Yes," he whimpered.
Closing his eyes, he sighed. "I knew something was up when I didn't see Beesong last night or today," he started, "but I did not know that you scared her away." He reopened them, a sharp amber gaze looking down at the small deputy. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I…" The tom was at a loss for words. "I… I felt so bad about it, I didn't want anyone to know."
"Hmph." The leader lashed his tail in annoyance. "Is there anything else you never told me?"
"…Before I scared her off, I asked her some questions," he admitted.
"Really?" Molestar raised an eyebrow. "Tell me more."
"Well, for one, I asked her where she last saw Snowface," Mouseheart started.
"What was her answer?" the brown-and-cream cat asked.
He took a moment to remember what Beesong had said. "She said she saw him talking to Pricklepelt before she went to sleep the day before he was killed," he answered.
"Okay… Did you ask her anything else?"
"I asked her where he was found, what she found around his body, and if there were any unusual scents near his body," the tabby listed.
"Well, it seems that the most important question out of all of these is where he was last seen." Molestar lifted his head. "Maybe you could ask if them if they witnessed it."
"Who knows if anyone saw him get killed?" he queried. "It could have been in the middle of the night for all I know."
"I think the question is, why he was hunting at that time," the leader meowed.
"Maybe he couldn't sleep," Mouseheart suggested. "I go out to hunt sometimes when I can't."
"True," he remarked. "But I still have my suspicions."
"I could ask who was guarding the camp that night if they saw anything," the brown tabby tom suggested once more. "…If I knew who was."
Molestar paused before speaking once more. "I think Speckfeather and Aspenspring were on guard duty," the tom remembered. "You could try asking them."
"For now?"
"For now. If you get the chance, you could try to interrogate other cats, too."
"Can't I interrogate you, too?" the deputy asked.
"…Maybe later," the brown-and-cream tom meowed. "I am busy, you know."
"I know…" Mouseheart mumbled. "Maybe the next time we talk, I can question you. How's that?"
"That's fine," he agreed. Flicking his tail, he kept his gaze on the small tom. "Is there anything else?"
The tom shook his head. "No."
Molestar sighed. "Before I let you go, please remember that things will get better, regarding your duties. It takes practice, and practice is what you get every day."
He nodded. "I will, Molestar. I'll try my best to not let you down!"
The leader nodded. "Alright, then. You are dismissed."
"Thank you!" Mouseheart padded out of the leader's den, with the large tom following him out. Taking a look at the camp, he started to climb down to the ledge where he had resided before, and sat there.
He noticed Needlebelly and Waspdust carrying the familiar black-and-white body of Snowface out of the camp, with several cats giving one final look at the body before he would be buried. He hesitated on whenever he should follow them through the snow or not, hoping to get another look at the deputy's body before he was buried.
But he had already gotten one yesterday, while the two elders were rubbing herbs on his body. Sighing, his mind drifted to his most recent conversation with Molestar. Wasn't he supposed to get a punishment? He thought he would, the ThunderClan leader did not seem very happy when he revealed that he had scared Beesong off.
He waited patiently for a patrol to return, the dawn patrol or the hunting patrol. Sighing, it seemed like time had slowed down. He shook his head. Maybe he shouldn't be focused on when the patrol would return, but rather, what was going on the camp. His gaze settled on the hollow in front of him, which had remained largely empty.
He noticed Emberkit struggling to climb up the hollow, even trying to get her sister to help her. On the other end of the camp, Darkblossom was struggling to get back to the nursery, panting as she took each step. Pricklepelt tried her best to help her sister, the two cats being almost identical. Mouseheart sighed. There wasn't even much going on in the camp. Seeing how Emberkit continuously failed to climb the hollow, Mouseheart padded over to the dark gray she-kit.
"Need help?" he offered. The two kits looked up at him, with confused expressions.
"I want to get to Ravendusk's den," Emberkit whined. "But I can't get up there."
"Neither can I," Flowerkit mewed.
"Do you both want to go see her?" the deputy asked.
"Only Emberkit does," the blue-eyed kit explained. "I think healing cats is boring!"
"But you get to help cats!" the she-kit with amber eyes argued. "Plus, I don't want to fight!"
Mouseheart purred in delight. "Well, Emberkit, do you want to go see her?"
"Yes! Will you take me there?" the dark gray kit squeaked.
"Sure." Grabbing Emberkit's scruff, the small tom started to climb up to the medicine cat's den, granting the kit's wish. He might as well ask Ravendusk if she had received a sign from StarClan, anyways.
"Bye Flowerkit!" Emberkit mewed.
"Bye!" Flowerkit called.
As they climbed up the slope, Mouseheart made sure to keep a lookout for any returning patrols. He never knew whenever they would come back, but usually during them, he was doing other things. Now, he had nothing to do.
Placing Emberkit down on the ledge leading to the medicine cat's den, she immediately ran inside, leading to a sigh from the deputy. He padded into the den, looking around for the black-and-white medicine cat.
The dark gray she-kit had immediately ran up to Ravendusk, swishing her tail in excitement. The medicine cat's amber eyes laid an unamused gaze on the kit, saying nothing about the matter.
"Ravendusk?" he called. "Do you mind if I talk to you?"
"About what?" the black-and-white cat asked. "I don't want to waste my time right now."
"I just wanted to ask you a question," Mouseheart replied. "That's all."
She huffed. "Fine, but make it quick."
"Have you received something from StarClan recently? Like a prophecy… or sign?" the deputy asked.
"No," she answered simply. "Why do you ask?"
The tom hesitated, looking for an answer he could give the medicine cat. "…I was just wondering."
Ravendusk closed her eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. "You can't just keep coming to me and asking me pointless questions. I have work to do."
"Can I help?" Emberkit asked.
The she-cat looked to Nettlepaw, who was lying on a nest of moss, lethargic, and then back to the dark gray kit. "I don't see anything you could do right now. I just need to make sure Nettlepaw does not start throwing up again. …Or start complaining that he has another bellyache."
Emberkit walked up to the silver-gray tom, and looked back at Ravendusk. "He seems fine."
"He does look fine right now, but the moment he starts complaining again, I have to treat it," the medicine cat meowed.
"Well, I want to become a medicine cat like you!" she squeaked. "But there's nothing to help out with."
Ravendusk remained silent. "Well, it's good to have ambitions," she remarked. "But trust me, being a medicine cat takes just as much work as being a warrior."
"How do you know?" Emberkit asked.
"I used to be a warrior once," she started. "However, I never felt like I was meant to be one, even after I became a warrior. When the old medicine cat received a sign from StarClan, he made me his apprentice, and I have been a medicine cat ever since."
"That's cool," the dark gray she-kit mewed. "But I still want to be a medicine cat right away!"
"You need training before you can become a full medicine cat, young one," Ravendusk meowed.
Emberkit frowned. "Can I still help you, though?"
"Yes, although you won't be-"
"We're back!" a voice interrupted Ravendusk's speech. "And look who we found!"
I should leave, now, Mouseheart thought. Padding out of the medicine cat's den, he looked at the entrance of the camp. Stormspark and his patrol moved out of the way, revealing a pale gray she-cat with a fresh wound on her cheek, blood rolling down it. At the sight of her, the deputy let out a small gasp once he realized who it was.
Beesong!
A/N: Ugh, sorry this came out a day later than it was supposed to, procrasination got the best of me. But luckily, I remembered and spent hours trying to finish it, and I did, even if it did come a day late. So, hooray for Beesong's return, anyone? We're going to see more interaction between her and Mouseheart in the next chapter, dealing with the aftermath of their argument. Even though there's not much detective work in this chapter, the suspense revolving around the mystery is present, and the consequences of Mouseheart's previous actions are catching up to him. And once again, this turned out longer that I thought it would x.x. But that is a good thing! Either way, Branchwing, out!