A/N: Hey everyone, back again! Sorry to keep you waiting, but I arrived home from holidays minus the internet. It's still on the fritz, despite my daddy's raging at the company xD So, I was supposed to keep this at a respectable length...but Swift kinda ran away with me. Eek! I hope that you all enjoy this, a review would be great if you stop by! Anyway, I give you Swift!
"This is a path that you follow alone."
She couldn't find her voice.
She tried to yowl a warning, tried to say anything, anything that would stop the tom from launching himself over the edge, and nothing came to her throat. It was as though her mouth had dried up – no, that was a lie, since there was something in her throat, but it wasn't words; her heart was squashed up against it, cutting off her cries. She was frozen in her position, and even though her heart was beating so fast it hurt, everything around her seemed to slow itself down; she could still hear everything around her, the hisses and violent clashes of the cats to her left, the rush of the water, the thump of her brother against his secret love, but in her eyes she could pick out every minute detail that she didn't think she was usually able to do. She could see Lionpaw wasn't trying to hurt Crowpaw as they skidded along the grass. She could see the flash of uncontrollable terror that appeared in his eyes as he realised – too late – that he couldn't stop their motion. She could see the brief – too brief – attempt to cling to the gorge ledge, still desperately clinging on to the grey she-cat. She saw the whites of his eyes as they locked onto her own, and then disappeared from sight.
It seemed to take a long, long time to hear the splash.
Time caught up with her then though, and Swiftpaw finally found her voice.
"Lionpaw!" she wailed, ignoring the throb in her leg and sliding over to the gorge edge. The current was swift, amplified by rain and she guessed the Twoleg's dam, and she had to force herself to focus on the water, and squash down the panic that was glazing over her eyes. She thought she caught a glimpse of a golden cat that was neither her brother nor Crowpaw, and was about to yell at the strange cat's stupidity of jumping in after the two apprentices, but when she blinked, she realised it was just a rock jutting out of the gorge wall. She had wasted precious heartbeats on her imagination, and she yowled Lionpaw's name again, feeling useless as her gaze scanned further down the gorge where the spray of the waterfall was rising, hanging like a permanent fog, visible even in the weather. She almost lost her footing as her eyes finally fell on a bundle of fur in the current.
Lionpaw was fighting a battle he could not even hope to win. Crowpaw had somehow been moved from his claws to his teeth, and the apprentice was gripping her by the scruff; Swiftpaw knew his paws were pumping furiously underwater, but he wasn't moving any closer to her. If anything, he was being pulled toward the falls backwards. The tabby briefly a horrible idea that he should just let Crowpaw go and try and save himself, before the idea left her head just as quickly. She doubted Lionpaw would be able to swim to safety even by himself. The she-cat in his jaws had gone limp in the water, floating in the white the river's current was creating. Swiftpaw blinked away her imagination of the white turning red with the grey cat's blood, due to injuries she had created, and tore away her gaze from her brother back to the battle.
Her Clanmates had begun to realise that something was wrong, though she didn't think it was due to her cries for her brother. Ashfeather, his untorn ear covered in blood that she hoped for his sake wasn't his own, was yowling something that she couldn't make out, the wind catching it and throwing it the other way. Even from her brief count, she could see there were too many WindClan cats and not enough RiverClan. None of the cats looked towards Swiftpaw, having trouble on their own without her interference. Her eyes darted back to the river, and she thought her heart skipped a beat; Lionpaw's head was just barely visible in the swirl of the top of the waterfall. She knew he could see her; did he know she couldn't help him? She couldn't focus on his eyes, and she didn't think she wanted to, afraid to see an accusing look. 'You can't just stand here, you idiot!' she snarled at herself internally. 'Move!'
Her subconscious always had been good at forcing her into action.
"Help!" she yowled at the fighting cats, not bothering to see if anyone, RiverClan or WindClan, would come to her aid, and then limped as quickly as she could along the gorge edge. Each step sent a wave of pain up her leg, and she hissed in self-pity before pushing the pain away. Whatever was wrong with her, she knew that Lionpaw would be feeling worse; she was surprised he had managed to stay afloat for this long after hitting the water. A heartbeat after thinking it, she wished she could take it back. Her thoughts had seemed to be a trigger for the tom, whose struggles against the current grew weaker, and he drifted to the top of the falls. "Lionpaw!" she screeched again, and his head turned – she thought – towards her voice, and she thought he was going to start fighting the water again.
The two cats disappeared over the waterfall, and Swiftpaw felt her heart plummet with them.
Struggling to breathe properly, the tabby picked her pace up, aided by the slope of the field as it moved downhill towards the end of the falls and the broken bridge. She tried to keep her eyes on the water, searching for a break in the water that would signal Lionpaw had come up, and barely noticed the small throng of cats in the grass, aside from scenting RiverClan and blood. Silverfur was probably up with Runningstar, but Mistypaw she could hear issuing confident and calming orders to different cats depending on the severity of their wounds. A wondering thought of where the WindClan medicine cat – 'Stoneflight?' – was based briefly floated in her head before she remembered she'd far more important things to think about, like how fast the current was moving downstream. She didn't know where Lionpaw would surface, so she didn't know how many cats she needed.
She wished she were older, and wiser, like Runningstar or Oakblaze.
"Help me!" she yowled at her Clanmates.
"Wait your turn, Swiftpaw, you've only got a few measly cuts," snapped Splashtooth, the left side of his flank coated in sticky liquid.
"Lionpaw's gone over," she meowed, trying to keep a level tone that would tell the Clan she was a mature apprentice. She was pretty sure it came out like a frightened kit though. Her words had an effect on the warrior though, his ears flattening until she couldn't tell them apart from his head. She didn't even have to explain what 'gone over' meant; any RiverClan cat with a hint of sense would understand. The tom's eyes darted first to the river, and she followed his gaze, as though his experience would allow him to see Lionpaw where she couldn't. They flickered back up to the actual battle after a heartbeat though, in the direction of the small cluster of fighting cats and their fallen leader.
"Gorseclaw, Sandpelt," he meowed, his tone crisp. Swiftpaw could see they were waiting to see if they could re-join the battle despite injuries. "Lionpaw has fallen; help Swiftpaw search for him." He paused his orders and gave a small sigh of unexplainable emotion. "Try and find him, and if you do, let me know immediately. I'll tell Fernwhisker." Her sibling's mentor was still fighting, and Swiftpaw knew that she wouldn't be informed until the battle was over, or she was too injured to continue. The long-legged tom hissed and turned back into the battle, his wound unchecked by the medicine cat apprentice at Swiftpaw's information.
She wondered how many heartbeats had passed by since he had gone over the waterfall. 'Too many.' Her thoughts were said in such a grim manner that she forced herself to ignore them, and told her thoughts to shut it.
"Swiftpaw, you stay near here, and Gorseclaw and I will see if he's gone further down," Sandpelt meowed briskly. "The current's strong enough to drive him down to camp or more. We'll find him."
"Yes, we will," the she-cat meowed, echoing her brother's statement. Swiftpaw felt a pang shoot through her; they hadn't said 'alive'.
The warrior siblings loped back toward the camp, Gorseclaw favouring her hind leg only slightly, Sandpelt's tail at a slightly crooked angle which she thought was due to the shallow scratches on his rump. Swiftpaw moved slower, frustrated with her leg, and how unhelpful it was being. The frustration was not appeased by the overwhelming sense of terror she felt for Lionpaw, and she forced herself away from hysteria, scenting each patch of reeds for her brother's smell, her emotions building at each false and empty bunch. For all she knew, Lionpaw was at the bottom of the river somewhere, trapped underneath a rock and unable to get out. The she-cat let out a small wail at the thought of the tom drowning, perhaps right beside her in the water, and she wouldn't be able to hear him call for help.
"You're being stupid, Swiftpaw," she told herself sharply. "You are a strong, independent cat. You are not a mewling kit like Rosepaw." She thought her words weren't very fair to the white she-cat, who hadn't whined at all since their first couple of moons as apprentices, so she was glad she wouldn't be able to hear Swiftpaw. The words did have an effect on her though, and she straightened her spine and moved with more of a purpose, or as much as she could with a pain in her leg bone. She would find him.
There was a loud yowl from behind her, startling her out of her sense of purpose, though she wouldn't make out the words. It took a couple of heartbeats for the sound to amplify itself, and Swiftpaw realised that there was no words, that it was simply a cry emitted from not one, but a whole chorus of cats, none of whom she recognised as her own Clanmates. 'Oh no,' she thought, and focused again on Lionpaw. Lionpaw was more important than a silly field that they didn't even use anymore.
"Lionpaw," she called softly, in case an enemy cat heard.
"Lionpaw," she called again, louder this time as she realised she didn't care if an enemy cat heard. Even if it was Nightstorm that answered the call, and tried to hurt her, she didn't care.
She did care when she heard a reply though; there was no words, but it was not a cry of triumph or exhilaration. It was a gurgling, choking sound that made Swiftpaw think of the mud monster from her kithood, and she wished she could run back to Whitetail and hide under her chest safely. She made her paws move towards the sound, reluctantly, her mind trying to think of ways she could avoid this action; if she turned around though, away from it, where could she go? There was a brief thought of cowardice, that she could go live with Xena, and never have to find Lionpaw so she could just imagine him like always. She would make a terrible warrior if she ever went through with that thought. The gurgling sound came again, accompanied with a weak cough, and the tabby figured if he was coughing, it was a good sign; Silverfur had always made her cough as a kit, to make sure everything was okay. Though her brother's memory often was poor, perhaps he remembered it too. She pushed through the reeds to find the source of the sound.
It took her a moment to actually find Lionpaw on the bank, in a spot Gorseclaw and Sandpelt had probably run by in their search. His coat, normally a similar shade to Swiftpaw's own save longer, was soaked flat against his skin, and the same colour as the bank, caked in still-wet mud and silt. She only noticed his side moving shallowly – too shallow – and then could find the rest of his body. His head was close by her, his back to her view, and she felt that reluctance again to move forward and around to his line of sight. He gave a cough again, and it jolted her into stumbling forward, carefully into his vision.
Wrapped in his paws was Crowpaw, the small she-cat looking even smaller next to the massive build that was her brother. She was motionless between his legs, her hind limbs twisted awkwardly under his own, but Swiftpaw, feeling a little guilty, didn't care about the grey apprentice at that moment. Lionpaw's pelvis was sitting crookedly on the muddy ground, and she didn't want to ask if it was just because of the way the WindClan cat was lying. Most of his front was concealed by the grey cat, and his eyes were half-closed, but she knew he could see her. She dropped to her belly in front of him, inching forward and ignoring her throbbing paw, her eyes locked on his.
"I'm sorry," she meowed, wondering how she could get the words out.
"…'S…'kay." It took him a long time to get the words to form, and when they did, they were little less than a whisper. She turned away from him for a moment, struggling with indecision on whether to drag him to Silverfur or just yowl for help, or run herself. She didn't think she could leave him. On the other side of the bank, she caught a flash of movement, and a glimpse of a golden, spotty coat.
"Get help!" she cried to the strange cat, watching a head bob in consent, and slip out of her vision towards the waterfall. A ThunderClan cat had heard her calls then. She would have to ask Mousepaw who it was next time she saw him. But that was for another moment in time.
"Silverfur or Mistypaw will be here," she meowed to the tom, her voice low and soothing like Whitetail's used to be. "You'll be alright, Lionpaw, you'll just have a few scars." Was she speaking for her benefit, or his? The apprentice squashed down the alarm in her eyes as she noticed droplets of blood by the fallen tom's ear, and a quick scan downward showed a similar trickle from the corner of his mouth, staining his teeth even through the mud.
"…'S too…la'e," he answered, dropping part of his words to inaudible levels. He opened his eyes fully, and she knew it was a struggle for him to keep them that way. "Star…Clan…chose," he added, his voice not holding a scrap of venom as he threw her words back in her face. He was merely agreeing. She could only give a small nod, wishing the gold cat would run faster, and touching her nose to Lionpaw's.
"Wish…didn't…have to…go." The gurgling sound was back, and she thought something had been popped inside of him. She raised a paw to place gently on his chest, and felt the wheeze and vibrations. He tilted his head down, the movement taking an age in Swiftpaw's eyes, and probably for him as well, and gave the grey cat a small lick on the scruff, before turning like a very old elder back to the apprentice. "…'Member…favour…mud monster," he meowed softly, and she thought Lionpaw was starting to drift in his head, so gave a small nod, pushing herself closer to his muddy fur. "…Saved you…kits…" He took another gurgling breath, his eyes flitting. "Save…her…you…owe me."
Swiftpaw wasn't sure what he was talking about, but she nodded again, and the tom's whole body relaxed. He gave a small sigh.
"Thanks…Love you…you…idiot."
It was so quick, she almost missed the light going out of his eyes.
She had lost her voice again. It was as though something had cracked inside her this time, and it wasn't her heart that was keeping the words from forming. For the first time, she finally understood why Rapidtail had fallen silent after his mate moved to Silverpelt to hunt with StarClan. Instead of growing hot with emotion, Swiftpaw just found herself getting cold and numb, staring at Lionpaw's vacant eyes, unable to look away because some brief glimpse of hope – that the light might come back, and she would be able to save him – kept her vigilant. She just had to keep watching for a little while longer, until the gold cat brought back the medicine cats. Runningstar didn't matter to Swiftpaw, and she thought that he shouldn't matter to Silverfur either; the tom had nine lives, but Lionpaw only had one, and he was losing it. 'Lost it,' her thoughts corrected in her head, in Brackentooth's gentle voice. The apprentice didn't bother to argue with her thoughts.
Her nose was touching Lionpaw's, and she pushed him slowly, willing him to push back. She didn't know how long she lay there, stubbornly continuing to try when there was no response, except a chill spreading over the limp body, coated in misty rain that had darkened the sky. Wasn't it always dark when bad things happened? She pushed him harder, wishing she could talk to him about moss-ball, or hunting, or Xena, wishing he would answer and tell her that everything was okay. He moved slightly, and for less than a heartbeat Swiftpaw felt her whole body surge with adrenaline-covered excitement, because she knew that she hadn't caused the movement. She sprang to her paws, ready to rush out and see if Mistypaw was close to save Lionpaw. Everything drained away inside her as it dawned on her that her brother hadn't twitched; it had been the soundless rumble from the apprentice wrapped in his embrace that had caused the action.
'Save her,' she thought, looking down at the grey apprentice. She took a deep, shuddering breath, as though she was in pain.
"I will save you," she meowed, feeling and sounding old. If Crowpaw could be saved, then part of Lionpaw could be saved too. She twisted around, surveying the two apprentices, before selecting the best course of action, gripping Crowpaw by her scruff, and pulling gently. The she-cat gave a weak groan, not capable of even forming a mewl, and Swiftpaw felt a twinge of worry that she was causing more harm to the other. She steeled herself, and pulled again, Lionpaw's limp paws falling away from the grey cat slowly and deliberately. They splattered some mud when they came to rest on the bank, his claws still sheathed, his glassy eyes watching her go. A quick glance at the WindClan cat tentatively gave Swiftpaw the notion that Lionpaw had protected his love from the worst of the rocks, and she dragged Crowpaw out through the reeds.
"Swiftpaw!" Her head lifted at Mistypaw's voice, paired with Sandpelt as the two bounded towards her. Where was Gorseclaw? "Gorseclaw is still searching downstream, but Sandpelt came back to get me," she added, and Swiftpaw knew why he had wanted the cat. "It's lucky we found you, thank StarClan!" Swiftpaw didn't thank the ThunderClan cat anyway, but she did note that the clump of reeds she had found Lionpaw in was actually quite dense; her brother wasn't even visible from where she stood, though she knew he was only a few tail lengths away. "Who's this?"
"Crowpaw," Swiftpaw answered the other apprentice after laying the grey cat gently on the ground. "WindClan apprentice; went over the gorge with…with Lionpaw." She didn't bother saying why. It wasn't important. "She's alive."
"Where's Lionpaw?" Sandpelt asked, and Swiftpaw felt her world curl in on itself. The warrior glimpsed the stricken expression that flashed onto her features, and in a much softer tone added, "Did you find him?" The she-cat gave a small, stiff nod, flicking her tail into the reeds. The young warrior disappeared to the bank, and Mistypaw leaned over the WindClan cat, sniffing suspiciously, her paw reaching towards her chest to move it to-and-fro. Her head snapped down to the side of the cat, and she stopped breathing, listening intently. Swiftpaw thought it appropriate to hold her breath as well. Mistypaw let out a short sigh after a moment, and tilted her head up.
"Nothing wrong inside her chest," she meowed, sounding a little pleased that she had come up with that conclusion by herself, without the aid of Silverfur. "Her back leg might be broken though, and I can't set it myself. Silverfur will have to get Stoneflight for that." Chest injuries inside were difficult to heal and treat. Crowpaw's chances had suddenly gone up in Swiftpaw's estimation. "I'll check Lionpaw, and then go get Silverfur; she's with Runningstar and Ashfeather right now." The grey cat had lowered her words to a much more subdued tone, and stopped short as Sandpelt reappeared, hampered by the reeds and the limp apprentice he held in his jaws. The tom emerged fully and lay Lionpaw out beside the WindClan cat, taking a step back to allow Mistypaw to examine him briefly.
"I'm sorry, Swiftpaw," Sandpelt meowed with a sense of finality, and Swiftpaw felt her body jerk in a silent wail as Mistypaw shook her head, and closed the tom's eyes with her paw. There was no way about it now, no little glimpse of hope for her to think about while waiting for the ThunderClan cat to return; she thought she had spotted the golden cat again, returning, but it stayed for such a brief period of time before disappearing that it could have been her imagination. She didn't care; the cat's return had stomped on her hope, and if she never saw the stupid stranger again, it would be too soon. She moved over to where Lionpaw lay in a muddy mess, and dropped down to her belly beside him.
She could hear Mistypaw and Sandpelt discussing Crowpaw, and the pale tom bounding away towards the waterfall, but she ignored the actions, and ignored Gorseclaw's return and her dismayed meow at the sight of the two apprentices. She touched her nose to her brother's again, meowing softly, not forming any full words but using the noise as a source of comfort. She wanted her siblings with her; Cottonpaw and Rosepaw would know how to make her feel better just by being in the same vicinity as she was. 'Cottonpaw, especially,' she thought, her internal words sad even to her ears. She wondered what Whitetail would say, when she saw Lionpaw in the state he was currently in.
That was suddenly the most important thing on Swiftpaw's mind, and she sat bolt upright, startling the medicine cat apprentice and the older warrior. The mud on the tom's body was still wet, and as soon as she touched him with her tongue, she wanted to spit the taste out as quickly as she could; but their mother would not have wanted Lionpaw to look so dishevelled, even in death. She started at his head, her tongue moving in rasping strokes to wash away the silt clinging to his fur.
"Swiftpaw, there's no need to do that ye –." Gorseclaw broke off her words at a low hiss from the tabby, sighing behind her, and Swiftpaw resumed her work, cleaning the blood and dirt away until Lionpaw's head looked like it always had. She moved down to his neck and chest, the numb feeling going away briefly, replaced with a shaking anger that showed in the aggressive way she performed the action, her ears flicking slightly at the sound of approaching cats, their footfalls heavy and often uneven, signalling injury and loss. 'Physical injury, emotional loss,' she thought grimly, feeling her leg and ear start to twinge from the damp and the chill and knowing others felt it too. She bent forward to start on his forelegs as a loud, keening wail rose up from the group of cats behind her, the voice picked up by a deeper, tom meow. Her anger deepened as two white bodies came in on either side of her, Rosepaw wailing again at Lionpaw's head. Their presence did help her a little though, just as she suspected.
She leaned into Cottonpaw's shoulder as more cats surrounded her, scenting Stonecloud, Fernwhisker and Ashfeather, and glanced up as Splashtooth came alongside the old queen. Nudging Rosepaw, she took a small step back, vaguely noting the tail touch Fernwhisker received from the long-legged tom, before Ashfeather bent down to hoist the apprentice onto Stonecloud's back, balancing him carefully. Swiftpaw glanced back at the other cats, failing to spy Whitetail among them, and realised Silverfur had sent her back to camp with her injuries. The anger went away at the thought, replaced with a weight of returning a dead son to her mother. It was Swiftpaw's responsibility, after all; he had been trying to save her. Returning her gaze to the deputy, she saw that Splashtooth now had Crowpaw on his back, Fernwhisker bracing the young she-cat on him with her shoulder. 'Crowpaw is coming to RiverClan.' No one wanted to encounter another WindClan cat at the moment.
"What…what happened?" Cottonpaw asked her, his voice dull as they trailed behind the precious cargos. The wind had died down completely, and the misty rain fell straight.
"He…he was trying to protect me from Crowpaw's attack," she meowed quietly. "Clan comes first, remember?" Cottonpaw stayed silent, and Swiftpaw let him struggle inside with his emotions for a few heartbeats, before adding, "But they weren't even friends at Gatherings, right? So it wasn't hard for him." The white tom tilted his head at the words, his eyes flashing puzzlement briefly before he nodded very slowly.
"Let's keep our brother's reputation at 'hero'," Cottonpaw meowed, leaning in so his jaws almost touched Swiftpaw's ear.
"What a smart thing to say," she answered, lifting her tail to brush across his spine and glancing back to the she-cat sprawled across Splashtooth's back. Crowpaw, she doubted, would say anything to the contrary. 'And Lionpaw…' She sighed at her thoughts, which was a better sound than the one she wanted to make, a high-pitched wail. That was not how a mature apprentice should act.
Of course, once they had made it back to the camp, and Whitetail took in the cats appearing, she couldn't help joining in on the grieving mother's pain. The rain had stopped as they returned, and the cats who had stayed behind began to help Mistypaw and Silverfur with treating the more minor injuries of the warriors, and helping any with major injuries into the medicine cat den, or into moss bedding to wait their turn to be seen. Swiftpaw remained huddled with her siblings and Whitetail beside Lionpaw, Berryfall and Mudfoot approaching from the other side and beginning to clean off the tom, making good time with Swiftpaw's previous assistance. The she-cat looked away as they worked, but remained stuck to the balls of fur that were her family, taking in the surrounding scenes with an expressionless manner; the numb feeling had returned.
Willowbreeze was shaking off Mistypaw's assistance, his tail gesturing towards Oakblaze instead. Her mentor, she noted, had received a nasty looking wound to her shoulder, probably inflicted by Breezestar's claws, but the ginger she-cat was making no move to seek treatment. Her tail lashed furiously from side to side, and she paced, leaning heavily on her injured shoulder, her eyes fixed on Silverfur, who was standing by Runningstar's side. When the medicine cat shook her head, the warrior exploded with a loud yowl, stepping towards their leader with a fierce snarl etched onto her face. The silver cat hissed at the warrior, her fur fluffing out and despite the fact that she was not a warrior, Swiftpaw didn't think she'd fancy taking on Silverfur in any capacity. Oakblaze, evidently, thought the same, and her hackles stilled. Her body relaxed slightly as she took in the downed tom, and she allowed Mistypaw to inspect her shoulder. Swiftpaw followed her eyes, and the gasping rise and fall of Runningstar's chest.
He had lost a life, like she had thought earlier.
Brackentooth was standing beside Fernwhisker, the two looking unscathed aside from a few scratches. She met the tom's eyes, an unreadable expression in them, and he broke the contact first, nudging his mother in a sympathetic way. The queen was staring at her dead apprentice silently. Swiftpaw would tell her how well he fought when she felt the energy to get up and move. Splashtooth, his injuries wrapped in dock leaves, was watching the warrior she-cat with flattened ears and what Swiftpaw could only describe as a worried scowl.
Ashfeather was already in deep discussion with Toadheart and Rapidtail, his whole demeanour deflated, and she wondered if he was going to address the Clan on what had happened, since Runningstar was still unconscious, recovering.
"…yowled it, and we just turned…" Her ears twitched as she registered Cottonpaw's voice, Mudfoot's grave meows of acknowledgement as he cleaned Lionpaw into the appearance of sleeping; the elders couldn't fix the twisted hindlegs though, so Swiftpaw didn't look down towards that end.
"What?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
"Ashfeather," Cottonpaw meowed, glancing at his sister uneasily for a moment. "Mudfoot wanted to know who conceded our defeat. Ashfeather yielded to Breezestar when he saw our injured."
"So…Lionpaw…he's dead, for nothing," she meowed slowly. She remembered the chorus of yowls as she had searched for the tom; Breezestar announcing his triumph.
"No, Swiftpaw –." She had never heard Mudfoot's voice so gentle, "– Lionpaw gave his life for his Clan. That in itself has meaning. He died a warrior's death."
'He died, saving me from what would have been his future mate.' Out loud, she said, "Okay. I wish he hadn't though." The old tom made a noise that crossed between a sympathetic sigh, and a snort.
"No point wishing for things that are in the past now." Swiftpaw gave a small nod, and then resumed her cat-watching, distracting her from the body on the ground. Browncreek approached her cautiously, like she was a badger, holding a leaf pouch in his jaws, and dropping it on the ground in front of her. A single poppy seed rolled out from between the dock leaves, and stopped at her injured leg. She glanced down at it, then back at the warrior. He looked a little embarrassed, as though he wasn't sure what to do with his package.
"For your…leg," he meowed.
"Do you know how to put the dock leaf on properly?" she asked, lifting out her paw. "I think you can see the bone." Browncreek blanched slightly, taking a step back.
"Uh…no, I didn't ask Mistypaw how. I probably should have." Swiftpaw made an 'obviously' noise. Browncreek, she knew, would be a terrible medicine cat; she had seen him being treated before, and he was not good at dealing with the after-effects of a battle; blood when adrenaline was pumping through his body was no problem, but afterwards, it made him nervous.
"I'll go see her myself in a little bit," she said, hoping the warrior would go away. "I'll wait 'til she's treated more serious injuries." Browncreek gave a nod, a mix of relief and authority, and walked away.
As it turned out, Mistypaw came to see Swiftpaw instead, after the sun had risen high in the air – although it struggled to be seen above the blanket of clouds. Swiftpaw nodded as the other examined her leg; she would probably gain her full name soon, if her confident actions were anything to go by. She had been right when she had thought she could see the bone, and Mistypaw had been very serious as she coated the deep puncture wound with a foul smelling mush, licking a dock leaf until it was sticky enough to wrap around her fur, and getting a wad of cobwebs to hold the leaf in place. She tried not to wince, and she tried not to grieve, but she could only do one of those things at a time, and more often than not, it was grief that overcame her. The poppy seed lay untouched, as it had when Rapidtail had been in her position, losing his mate. The tom had been strong enough to go without it, so Swiftpaw would have to be as well.
Lionpaw looked like he was sleeping by the time the Clan cats began to pay their respects. Swiftpaw took a few steps back from him, keeping him in her sight, but allowing her Clanmates to reach him. Cottonpaw moved to sit beside her, though Rosepaw and Whitetail remained at their brother's head in silent grief. Ashfeather had been one of the first to lick the apprentice goodbye, before beginning to organise a hunting patrol with the least injured cats, and the border patrols; the sunhigh patrol had been abandoned in the wake of injuries.
"I'm so sorry, Swiftpaw." She had heard Brackentooth sitting down beside her as Fernwhisker went to grieve beside Whitetail, but she hadn't spoken to him. He had allowed the silence to settle over them before he had broken it. She gave a stiff nod. "And you, Cottonpaw. Lionpaw is…was a great apprentice. StarClan are lucky to have such a great hunter and fighter in their ranks." From the corner of her eye she saw Cottonpaw give an identical nod, and turn away, his tail resting on her own. The silence came over them again, and she felt the warrior sigh beside her, unsure about where to put his paws. "I understand your pain," he continued, and she tilted her head towards him, her eyes narrowed slightly. "I had a brother. Rainkit. He died of whitecough, and I didn't know him as well, or for as long as you. But I still loved him. And I still grieved." The tom fell quiet, lost in thought, and she couldn't help lean over to nudge his shoulder in empathy.
He got up after that, and moved away to share tongues with Lionpaw, and Swiftpaw was left alone with Cottonpaw, and the two stayed that way until the sun dipped away from the clouds and was swallowed up by the earth. Silverfur, with Runningstar leaning on her for support, padded over to Lionpaw, and the two settled down after some words with Rosepaw. Runningstar shakily moved over to Whitetail, wrapping his tail around her seated frame carefully. Swiftpaw nudged her brother, and gestured towards the group of cats with her own tail. They moved back to their original positions beside Lionpaw, the she-cat curling into his body and inhaling the herbs Berryfall had crushed over him. Lionpaw would not be alone on his last night.
It had started to rain again; didn't it always rain when bad things happened?
"I don't think this is really a good time to talk."
Swiftpaw's ears flicked up curiously as she caught the words spoken softly by Oakblaze, the only real movement she had shown since they had left the camp. Ashfeather had thought it would be best to keep the siblings busy after seeing Lionpaw's body being carried through the entrance to be laid to rest alongside other fallen RiverClan cats. Swiftpaw, having seen the dangerous teeter of the tom at the limp of Berryfall, happened to agree with the deputy's idea, so had gone along on the hunting patrol with Oakblaze as soon as the opportunity had provided itself. Lilystep had gone on ahead, unhampered by the injuries Swiftpaw and Oakblaze nursed, speaking to Rapidtail in sombre tones, though the apprentice figured they would become more lively once out of earshot of the gloomy tabby. The two understood grief, she knew, but she also knew it was difficult to be around a depressed cat for a long time. She didn't mind it, being alone; if 'alone' included those two up ahead, and Willowbreeze and Oakblaze behind.
She veered automatically into the reeds as she caught her mentor's words though, the guilty feeling of eavesdropping long having disappeared after the numerous times she had done it. Eavesdropping, she had told herself, was not part of the Code, therefore StarClan – and Runningstar – would not be angry at her, and could not be angry at her, because she wasn't breaking any said rules. Unsaid rules were a different matter, but she had never been able to follow them even as a kit, so there was no point starting now.
"No, Oakblaze, this is as good a time as ever, and I…I've been putting it off over this and that and every other thing I can think of." Swiftpaw's ear quivered at the words, and she felt a small surge of happiness outside the realm of grief for Lionpaw, that Willowbreeze was finally going to say something to Oakblaze. She shifted in the reeds a little, peering out to search for the two cats with sight as well as hearing.
"Actually, Willowbreeze, this probably isn't a good time for you to say whatever you're talking about," Oakblaze responded, and Swiftpaw caught sight of the two of them, her mentor wearing a puzzled expression, unsure as to where the conversation was going. She couldn't see Willowbreeze features fully, but could imagine his heart pounding in his head, and the dizzy feeling of nerves; the tom got like that when he spoke to Swiftpaw about it. With the ginger cat up close, Swiftpaw was surprised he hadn't blacked out into unconsciousness. Oakblaze continued her tirade, oblivious to the tom's inner turmoil that the apprentice knew was occurring, "Runningstar has just lost a life, and WindClan have the upper fields, an apprentice has died for StarClan's sake, and our Clan don't know whether to blame him for being indecisive, or blame Ashfeather for being reckless or –."
"I love you."
'Uh-oh,' Swiftpaw thought, as her mentor's whole body went still at Willowbreeze's interruption. She shifted slightly in the reeds to get a better view. This could have been the same reaction Crowpaw had when Lionpaw told her, after all. Swiftpaw had never been on the receiving end of such words; she didn't know how the recipient was supposed to act. Although, as she took in Oakblaze's expression, which was the only thing that seemed to be moving on her body, changing emotions rapidly, the apprentice wasn't so sure. The tom, however, didn't seem to notice; he was as oblivious to her as Oakblaze had been to his own struggles.
"You're the most beautiful cat I've ever laid eyes on, and the fiercest and most loyal warrior I know; you have the heart of a LionClan cat, and the claws of one too," he meowed, pressing forward. "You're kind and generous and humorous, and you're great with Swiftpaw now –." Swiftpaw was glad he had used to word now there, which meant he hadn't lost his head and forgotten that day by the banks, "– And I thought, I thought that me being like this would make me weak in front of you, and for a long while I was, but now I'm not, now I'm as strong as any cat, and I know you say that it's the wrong time, but it's not, because I need you to know how I feel. How I've always felt for you, because all the stuff you've just said proves that you can't just leave things as they are. That things can change in a heartbeat, and there's nothing you can do about it." He took a breath, and Swiftpaw thought that it was the longest speech she'd ever heard the tom make.
"I love you," he said again, his sides heaving slightly. "I wish Lionpaw had been given the time to feel for someone the way I feel for you."
Swiftpaw swallowed hard, thinking of the grey cat lying in Silverfur's den, drifting in and out of consciousness, knowing that her brother had died to save the WindClan cat, and had been in the same mindset as Willowbreeze was currently in. Her ears flattened to the side of her head. Nobody knew that though; nobody but her had seen him try to save her in the water, and on top of the cliff. 'And nobody could,' she thought sadly, her tail drooping into the mud the reeds had anchored to.
"Willowbreeze," Oakblaze meowed, and the apprentice realised that it had taken her mentor a long time to say anything. Her ears lifted again, pushing Lionpaw's prone form out of her mind. "You know that I…that I care for you," she continued, and the little surge of happiness that Swiftpaw had gotten from the tom's declaration began to fade. "I always have cared for you. I looked up to you as an apprentice, because you were older, and Runningstar was your mentor, and you seemed so brave and wise. When you were hurt –." she broke off, seeing him flinch slightly, and Swiftpaw watched the ginger flick her tail up to touch his scarred shoulder before she continued, " – I was so worried that you would never walk again, or talk again, or be the warrior that I trusted. But Willowbreeze, I was worried for you, like I would worry for a littermate. Like Swiftpaw worries for Cottonpaw, or Gorseclaw for Sandpelt."
'Uh-oh,' Swiftpaw thought again, her ears falling from their perked position, and staying as droopy as her tail.
"I'm sorry Willowbreeze, but I can't love you the way you love me. There's…there's someone else. But I…I will always care for you." Swiftpaw wondered if all the world was crashing down in Willowbreeze's head, like it did when she had found Lionpaw. She couldn't see his face, but could see his body grow stiff. She strained to hear anything else the two said, but their voices then dropped too low, and it was only when Willowbreeze's body relaxed slightly and he gave a small nod that she realised the conversation was over, and the two were starting to move towards her place in the reeds. She twisted back the other way, and sloshed her paws into the water's edge away from the clump of reeds, pretending to scan the water for fish.
"Any luck, Swiftpaw?" Oakblaze asked her as the two warriors spotted her. Swiftpaw shook her head; it wasn't all that much of a lie, really, since it seemed she hadn't had any luck lately. Or rather, RiverClan hadn't. The ginger cat padded up beside her, and the apprentice gave a small sigh. "It's okay, Swiftpaw; it's hard to concentrate after something like this," she meowed. "When Rippleberry went to StarClan, I became the worst hunter in RiverClan for a few nights. It takes time." Swiftpaw gave a silent nod, thinking that it wasn't just Lionpaw's eyes in her head that was making her struggle with pretend fishing, but her mentor's rejection of Willowbreeze. "We'll catch up with the other two," Oakblaze continued. "A run will do you good, I think. Maybe do us all good."
"Crowpaw's doing much better now," Swiftpaw meowed, trying to be a conversationalist.
"If saying 'water' could be a justifiable reason for your words," Rosepaw snorted disdainfully. "She's probably hallucinating. Thinks she's still in the river with…with him." The white she-cat gave a small hiss, and her claws unsheathed themselves, tearing the ball of moss she had neatly rolled just a few moments before. "Foxdung!" she snapped, flicking her paw to shake off the destroyed work. Swiftpaw watched her quietly, before nudging her own neat moss ball over to the other's reach. Rosepaw's sides heaved a little, and she took a shuddering breath to calm herself. Swiftpaw stayed silent as the other's eyes took in the gesture, waiting for her to speak instead of trying to talk at her. Rosepaw couldn't even say his name, and the raw grief she displayed made Swiftpaw wonder if there was just something wrong with her, because she couldn't do the same.
Stoneflight and a WindClan warrior had arrived in camp the previous day, and Silverfur had said Crowpaw couldn't be moved.
Lionpaw had been dead three sunrises.
"I miss him," Rosepaw said softly, her gaze fixed on Swiftpaw's moss ball, her tone sullen. "I miss hearing him snore in the den. I didn't think I would, but now that it's, it's gone I just…" The white cat trailed off, choked with emotion, and the tabby touched her sister's shoulder with her tail, thinking that it was such an odd thing to miss, but that she finally understood the feeling of discomfort in the den and the lack of noise. "I'll get some bile for Berryfall's ticks," Rosepaw meowed after a few moments, her whole body giving a shake to throw off the choking feeling. "StarClan knows how they stay on in this rain." She picked up Swiftpaw's moss and trotted over to the medicine cat den. The she-cat stayed where she was; Ashfeather was a sensible cat, she decided, and being unfairly blamed by the Clan for attacking WindClan. He knew how to help Rosepaw cope by giving her mundane tasks that she could focus her entire mind on.
"The apprentice den is so empty now," meowed a voice behind her, and she tilted her head to observe Brightpaw, the she-cat's stance hesitant at approaching Swiftpaw. The tabby gave a nod of agreement, and Brightpaw took it as an opportunity to convey her fears. "When you all become warriors, it'll just be me in there, all by myself." This was true. 'Poor Brightpaw,' she thought, 'How lonely it must be without littermates.' Swiftpaw gave another nod at the younger's predicament, knowing that she couldn't do anything about that, and neither could Lionpaw if he was in the flesh; neither would be foolish enough to agree to stay back in their apprenticeship just for company.
"Don't worry Brightpaw," she meowed. "Greypool's kits will be apprentices soon –." she was thinking that Brightpaw would probably be a warrior by the time the four kits were old enough, "– and you'll still have company with others. We'll still talk to you, after all. And Sandpelt." Beside her, she heard Brightpaw sigh, and Swiftpaw didn't know what else to say about it, so she stayed silent, and hoped the other would go to her mentor for some duty.
She wouldn't know if that was what Brightpaw intended, as a few heartbeats later, movement at the leader's den caught her eye, and she watched her mother emerge into the dull light of the clearing, closely followed by Runningstar, whose tail twitched impatiently as he scanned the area briefly. Swiftpaw followed his eyes, which rested on Ashfeather. The deputy's head dipped at the other tom, and he moved forward as the patrol he had sent out earlier returned through the entrance. Runningstar, the strain evident on his body as it struggled to recover from his loss of life, pulled himself onto the willow branch he used for Clan meetings, and the apprentice gave the younger a quick nudge, nodding towards their leader.
"Let all cats old enough to swim gather here beneath the Willow to hear my words!"
The yowl had been long awaited; Runningstar had failed to address the Clan since the battle, and the clearing quickly filled with cats, though Swiftpaw noticed that Dreamstorm flitted to the fresh kill pile to grab a fish before settling her attention on the lithe tom. Oakblaze moved from where she had been lounging with Leafstream to Swiftpaw's side, her eyes meeting the younger with sympathy for a brief moment. She knew what was going to be said at the meeting, and she was glad her mentor sat beside her. She could feel the support rolling off the ginger, and watched as Runningstar began to speak.
"There are a few things I need to speak about," he meowed, his tail flicking. "First, of course, is the loss of a wonderful apprentice and friend to many, Lionpaw. His family and mentor –." the tom gestured to Whitetail and Fernwhisker in turn, "– should be, and can be, proud of his achievements. He would have made a great warrior." He gave a small pause in his words, letting them settle over the crowded cats. Swiftpaw felt like she should have more grief and anger at the words, but instead, she felt numb again. "Secondly, although many have been injured, the fact is, WindClan now holds our upper field, and are in striking distance to more of our territory. We cannot counterattack them now; we risk losing everything." Clearly that idea had been brought to him already, and Swiftpaw noticed Stonecloud grumbling beside Duskfur.
"Three patrols must pass the new border each day, no matter what, and make sure our scent is strong. Let this be known; we will reclaim it. That is for another day, though." Stonecloud's grumblings fell silent at those words, and Runningstar gave a small beckoning gesture towards the clearing. The she-cat's head swivelled around, searching for the recipient, and she gave a twitch of surprise as Whitetail clambered up beside the tom, the white queen carefully passive. Swiftpaw thought her mother was on the verge of hysteria.
"I would just like to give some good news to the Clan, in the wake of…of Lionpaw's…death," the queen meowed, and Swiftpaw swallowed hard at her mother's words. "Silverfur has informed me that I am expecting kits."
The apprentice stilled in shock, and she barely noticed Oakblaze doing the same; 'Kits?' she asked herself. Her mother hadn't been long back in warrior duties. Her previous litter were still apprentices.
"Are you giving us a father to congratulate?" Oakblaze called out, and the apprentice glanced at her mentor curiously, thinking that her tone of voice and her stance didn't match up correctly. When Whitetail shook her head, looking slightly affronted at the question, the ginger she-cat gave a barely audible hiss and looked away. Swiftpaw wondered why she hadn't taken the answer kindly; it was a queen's right to keep fathers a secret if they so wished. Mudfoot had always said there was no point in trying to step on a queen's paws to find out the secret, since it would just end up with your fur on the ground and in her claws.
"Pfft," she heard the old tom whisper now, chuckling a little towards Sedgefoot. "It's as though nobody knows who the tom is anyway." The two shared a good-natured laugh, while Swiftpaw's mind wrapped itself in confusion at his words, and Oakblaze's stiff demeanour.
"Finally," Runningstar called after a few congratulatory meows were shot in Whitetail's direction, "In light of recent events, I have decided that I must speak with StarClan. I will be leaving for Highstones at sunhigh, and in my absence, Ashfeather will serve in my place." A ripple of murmurs passed over the cats, and Brightpaw gave Swiftpaw a small nudge, flicking her tail towards Silverfur, who listened to the words with a highly disapproving look towards her recovering charge. "I will not be going alone, though we will need a strong defence here; Stonecloud, Oakblaze, and their apprentices will be accompanying me on this trip."
There was a meow of delight from the mass, and Swiftpaw caught the culprit; Cottonpaw's eyes were shining with excitement for the first time in suns as he twisted his head around to catch her gaze and mouth, 'That's us'. The apprentice felt startled for a moment, and her long tail quivered as she nodded.
That was them.