A/N: Apologies for the long break only to post a breather chapter! Hopefully won't be nearly as long till the next one!
CHAPTER 29
The moon was rising, and Leopardtail was still marveling at the fact they weren't all a bunch of corpses right now. Well, or prisoners; but being a prisoner in Gorseclan with the clan destroyed… Might as well be dead. Probably would be preferable too.
She'd barely moved since the Gorseclan raiding party had left camp. Thunderstream had checked her over with a sure scolding for acting half her age, but she was fine enough. Just exhausted. Oakfur and Barkfoot had been retrieved from their hiding spot safe and sound, though Oakfur was confused and frightened. The kits were scared, but alive and unharmed. Some of them were wounded; a couple quite badly so, but they'd all live. Thunderstream had her work cut out for her, but they'd live. By some miracle of Starclan. They'd be okay.
Mouseheart had broken the news about Ratapelt in her stead while she rested. She had seen the pain; the scrunch of the nose that spoke of the torn heart of their leader as Bogstar told the rest of the clan. She watched her clan mourn his unexpected loss after tasting victory in their survival. She saw the fear of the twolegs, who did indeed to seem to be out to get them. Another warrior gone. As she'd looked over them, grieving without a body to give a proper vigil tonight, Leopardtail became uncomfortably aware how small their ranks were becoming. They couldn't afford to lose another grown warrior.
Perhaps Bogstar had noticed too.
Her eyes found the little white leader making his way back up onto the stump that was where he addressed the clan; covered in salves to sooth his wounds from Icestar, his feather proudly placed in his mane. The second was gone now, as Thunderstream's had been returned to her after the battle. What was he doing now? Surely there was little more to add. Could they not have a moment of peace?
"Cats of Marshclan." He began, his voice clearly showing his own weariness, despite his attempts to keep it strong… Such a deep tone he had, for a little thing. "Before we begin Ratapelt's vigil under the stars, I would like to attend to one more matter of business…"
The cats sitting in the clearing around the stump blinked up at him, looking confused and worn. They were all so tired. She could see the guarded way they gave their leader attention. They feared more bad news. In truth, Leopardtail couldn't remember the last time they had good news. The birth of the young kits?
"His apprentice will need a new mentor…" He inclined his head towards Windpaw, though they barely seemed to hear him as she stared blankly towards him, giving a little sniff. Of course, Ratapelt's apprentice would be one of those hit hardest by his loss. "I have discussed this with Blackbird, and we have decided that Kakawing will be Windpaw's new mentor." The she-cat mentioned perked up, twitching her torn ear. "Do you accept?"
"Yes, of course." The warrior replied solemnly, standing. Her tail flicked with a gentle warmth towards Windpaw, drawing near her.
Bogstar inclined his head slightly towards the pair. "Kakawing you are a capable and inventive warrior, I hope that you will pass on all you know to Windpaw for the remainder of her training, in Ratapelt's stead."
Kakawing didn't reply verbally this time, only returning Bogstar's dip of the head with her own, before touching noses with Windpaw. She didn't seem as enthusiastic about all this. Leopardtail was sure the young she-cat would rather just have her old mentor back.
Bogstar watched them move back into their places in the clan. His gaze swept over them. "There is much to discuss about what has happened, and how our clan will move forward." He heaved a great sigh, enough that Leopardtail could see his ribs shift under his white pelt still smeared with mud and blood from the battle. He was a small cat, but he somehow looked smaller. "But that is not for tonight. Tonight, we reflect and pay our respects to Ratapelt's spirit. Even while his body is somewhere else, he will be here with us before he moves on to Starclan; let him hear and see our love for him."
The meeting adjourned, the cats began to move about. Marshclan cats had their own take on paying their respects to a fallen cat, as all the clans did, she was sure. Of course, she had never been privy to that private affair elsewhere. Normally, if they had the body, it would sit pride of place in the centre of camp; nestled gently in moss and fern and fur tinged in the sweet scent of various marsh flowers as the petals decorate their fur. As it stood, the traditional nest had been replaced with a single head of flax flowers. There, members of the clan placed prey; an offering to Ratapelt to feed him on his journey to Starclan and show appreciation for his life. In times of plenty, the prey would be given by every cat. In the lean times, only those closest to him typically gifted prey, though all would approach and say their goodbyes. Then, they would all share tongues and offer stories about the deceased; good memories. That night, the closest to them would sit with them overnight in vigil. In the morning they would take them to be buried; an elder to say a traditional piece over the grave. She hoped she wasn't chosen for that…
Leopardtail dropped a sparrow in front of the flowerhead, as Windpaw padded away after leaving a mouse. She wasn't particularly close to the tom or anything, but… "I'm sorry." She murmured, hoping he would hear her and forgive her for not saving him. She wasn't sure if she believed in any of this stuff, but on this occasion… She hoped she was wrong and that he could hear. He was sensible… He'd forgive her. She was sure. He'd forgive her. She touched a nose to the nearest flax flower, it's slightly bitter scent wafting in. Those twolegs… It made her claws unsheathe and her face grow tense. Knowing this was not an enemy she could just go and fight… It was so frustrating.
Leopardtail padded off to let someone else have their turn at paying respects. It was time to go sit with her son and share tongues quietly; speak of fonder memories of their lost clanmate. She needed to get the image of Ratapelt shrieking at them to help him as the twolegs bore down out of her head. Maybe the young cats would think of something; something to get rid of them, and deal with Gorseclan both… She was getting too old for this shit.
