The gray tom gagged violently, eyes wide in pain and fear as he pressed a dark paw to his throat, feeling the solid, cold knot squirm, seeming to grow larger as he coughed and hacked.
His body spasmed one last time before the thing was out, falling to the ground with a cold thud.
The tom's eyes widened in horror as he glanced down, quickly taking a step back.
A light barely noticeable breeze ruffled what looked like fur—slick, damp fur plastered to the sides of an eerie, unnervingly still body. Ears went flat against his head as the weak light from the setting sun showed a dark, dry substance on the kits fur.
He shivered, eyes frozen on the small form, it looked too much like blood to be anything else.
As if the morbid, eerie thought had awoken it, the black form started moving, breathing rhythmically before hauling itself to its paws. Large orange eyes blinked up at him like twin moons, something akin to confusion flashing before becoming as clear and cold as the pale gray sky above them. Fear flashed through the tom as his heart froze like a solid chuck of ice as the kit smiled up at him… a wide, wicked, bone-chilling smile that screamed of danger.
The gray warrior's paws tinged with an overwhelming urge to run as the kit lunged.
A while later, a small patrol came across the dead warrior and a small, shivering kit.
"Splashthroat!" A small, thick-furred dark brown tom cried, bounding over to hide his face in his former mentor's cold fur, green eyes closed in grief.
"Oh, poor baby!" A soft voice cooed, full of warmth and love as a soft gray she-cat bounded over to the shivering, helpless kit. She nuzzled the small, black kit, choosing to ignore the fact he was covered in blood as she wrapped her white-tipped tail around him, pulling him close as she checked for wounds.
"'Poor baby?'" A strong-looking dark gray tom with black flecks sneered sarcastically, dark green eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"For all you know, that thing could be Splashthroat's killer. A danger to the Clan…to the Forest and you're cuddling up to it as if i…."
"That's enough!" The she-cat snarled, violet eyes blazing with fury as she stood, white paws shaking and claws flexing in and out, creating shallow lines in the dirt.
The leader recoiled as if she'd physically struck him, eyes flashing and ears back. He'd nearly forgotten how badly and desperately his sister yearned to be a mother.
He swallowed against the lump of emotion in his throat, hoping his eyes didn't show grief and, worse pity. Remorse flashed in the she-cat's eyes as she wrapped her tail around the shivering kit.
The tom's ears flattened, dark green eyes narrowed as the kit buried its tiny face in his sister's flank, mumbling something in her fur that made her eyes go round, softened.
He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard something that sounded suspiciously like 'mama' as a bad, rotten feeling sank in his gut.
Honeysplash's heart swelled with pride and she felt like she was home as she settled into the Nursery, sighing in contentment as she sank into the impossibly soft, plushy nest.
The small black tom—her son—nursed at the curve of her belly as she purred, shifting over to give her new son more room. Her eyelids grew heavy as she felt a small, sharp, stinging pain before drifting off.
Weeks later, the dark gray, black flecked tom narrowed his eyes as his sister walked from the nursery to the fresh kill pile, her pelt looked ragged, her hipbones a faint outline beneath her faded fur, but her eyes still shone brightly.
"Honeysplash." He called, making his way to her. She turned, a gray squirrel dangled from her jaws as he sat in front of her. The concerned tom took in his sister's ragged, unkept appearance and opened his mouth to speak.
"He's just taking a lot of milk," She assured, tone lively but tinted with annoyance. She'd lost track of how many times she's dealt with him being an overprotective, annoying, furball.
"Hmm… I still think you should go to the Medicine den." He said, gaining a light, dismissive sigh for his troubles.
"I'm sure you were just as hungry and greedy when you where his age…" She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "I'll be fine."
The tom watched her walk away before heading back to his den, ignoring the cold sadness that panged as his heart as his stomach churned.
Two weeks later, the large tom looked down at the newly named apprentice, fighting the urge to full on glare as he touched noses with his mentor.
Earlier that day, Honeysplash had been found dead. Grimpaw smiled up at him—wide, innocent and infuriating—a mischievous glint in his eye.
Seasons Later
Orange eyes gleamed with power as Grimstar leaped onto the Tree Ledge, black pelt sleek and shiny as two warriors held a large struggling, hissing solid white tom.
His warriors' eyes gleamed, hungry for flesh and blood. A small, young white tom, an apprentice, broke from the crowd, despite Grimstar not giving the signal, only to be pulled back by a brown tom by the scuff like an oversized kit.
The black tom rolled his eyes at the overexcited apprentice as he watched the tom struggle, alternating between threats and pleas, as the fear mounted. Grimstar and warriors liked when their prey was scared, the quicken heartbeat and adrenaline made the blood taste better.
After countless heartbeats, Grimstar smiled as chilling and as wickedly as he did all those seasons ago. He placed a paw on darker spot of the large gray bolder, darkened with the previous leader's blood, flicking his tail as his warriors fell on the struggling tom, screams and the metallic scent of blood filling the air.
"For you, my eternal love," Grimstar said around the raw meat in him mouth. He set the meat at the pale, nearly white, she-cat's dark gray paws, a purr rumbling in his chest.
The four kits kneaded rhythmically as they nursed, thin, happy squeaks meeting his ears and filling his heart with warmth. Dapplewing's icy blue eyes shone in the near darkness against the nursery as she pulled the meat toward her, taking a large bite.
Her eyes slid closed in bliss as the grease and blood danced on her tongue and the prey settled warmly in her belly.
"Delicious as always, my darling," She purred, licking the bridge of Grimstar's nose as his heart skipped a beat. They pressed their foreheads, eyes meeting as they bathed in each other's warmth and love, everything else fading into the background.