"No!" I yowled, throwing myself at the bundle of gray-and-red fur that was once my mentor. I shoved my muzzle into his pelt, whimpering. The blood that stained his pelt dripped onto my paws, turning the brown-and-white fur crimson.
If I would have stayed and fought.
If I hadn't run.
He would still be alive.
"Scorchstar, we chased them off. They won't be so quick to take ThunderClan land again."
My eyes, dull from grief, barely took in the white coat of Birchcloud, the deputy. She had a long, ragged gash parting her long fur and one of her green eyes was starting to swell, but she held herself high as she reported to the black-and-ginger patched leader.
I hardly noticed when Cherryfall wailed and ran over to bury her nose in her mate's fur and the rest of the patrol came around to grieve. Exhaustion and misery made my eyes droop despite the commotion and soon I felt sleep tug me out of my body and into dreams, my nose still buried in Raintalon's lifeless fur.
I jolted awake when I felt something hard prod my flank. I blinked open my eyes to see the deep orange fur of my only brother, Foxpaw, standing over me. I sat up stiffly, wondering why I was outside, before remembering what had happened the previous day. Frantically scanning the clearing, I barely caught a glimpse of Raintalon's tail dragging out of the hollow, leaving a furrow of sand in its wake, before he was gone.
Forever.
I tensed, determined to stay collected and conscious of my surroundings instead of drifting off into sorrow over my mentor's death.
Over his murder.
Through the grief, I was able to find another emotion: one I gripped onto as if it was a lifeline; one that gave me strength and purpose past being a warrior; one I knew was unbreakable.
Revenge.
{{ This chapter was short, so I'll be releasing chapter four tomorrow morning! }}
