Moonhigh. A waning gibbous moon hung over the land, illuminating and reflecting off the sun-drown place. Out in the dunes cats were gathered around a freshly dug grave, a daisy planted firmly in the soil above. Gingerpaw crouched, ducking beneath the grass on the sunning spot above the medicine cat den, waiting patiently. She felt a building sense of anticipation as the noise of carefully placed pawsteps alerted her to the presence of another cat. The outline of a large dark cat came slinking towards her.
Shadedpaw blinked at her. "So are we going now? It's pretty much moonhigh" He uttered. "Not quite yet, Silentpaw might be coming and I don't want to leave him behind" the she-cat whispered back. Shadedpaw sighed "I don't think he's coming, we should go, it's not like we need three cats". She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Well I'd like him to come"
It was a little past moonhigh when she heard the quiet churning of sand by careful paws. She grinned at Silentpaw,excitement bouncing around her ribcage. His blue eyes were brighter in the moonlight, the dilated pupils adjusted for low light. "Thanks for coming" She rubbed her face against his cheek but the gesture was not returned. Seemed like he was coming unwillingly.
She flicked her tail, signalling it was time to go. Keeping themselves lowered to the ground the three apprentices began their descent down the bank. Gingerpaw slid down with a flurry of sand beneath her paws, letting out a snort of laughter. Only when she reached the bottom did she see Silentpaw cringing and looking around as if Duneclan was going to descend upon them. "Gingerpaw try to keep it down, at least until we're away from camp yeah?" Shadedpaw hissed under his breath. Great, now Shadedpaw was on edge as well.
With a huff she stood herself up, shaking her coat of sand. "Okay, sorry" She responded sheepishly. The trail they were following took them across the beach front to the mouth of the river. The dark water was brooding as they approached the bank. Crickets chirped loudly and Gingerpaw fought the kit-like urge to find one and pounce. "There's no way I'm swimming across that" She said staring down at the river. Shadedpaw padded beside her, peering down at the water. "I wouldn't want to either. If we follow the river up it should take us to the bridge". Gingerpaw was immediately reminded of the fact Leopardheart's body was discovered on the bridge. It was also a reminder of the fact there were rouges loitering about. In the pit of her stomach she felt the pull of twisting anxiety.
It was too late to turn back (it wasn't but telling herself that was easier), the urge to explore the ashfields was overpowering her urge to just sneak back into camp and go to sleep. It felt irrationally important that she went there. "Good idea" She said finally, eyes fixed on the water. Without a word she began to walk along the bank, Silentpaw and Shadedpaw following behind her. The sound of their pawsteps were masked by the babble of the river, the gentle rustling of the grass and the creaking of the crickets.
The bridge came into view soon enough. Gingerpaw hesitated for a moment, looking around for any signals of other cats. She stretched a paw out onto the dusty track and took her first steps towards the bridge. Tail raised, she moved with haste. She crossed the boundary between the track and the bridge. Smiling from ear to ear she paused to look back at the two toms. Shadedpaw crept out, keeping his belly low to the ground. Silentpaw followed suit, dread obvious on his face. "Come on!" She exclaimed, running ahead to the tom's alarm. She was a few foxsteps away from a place completely taboo to her clan. Without a trace of hesitance she breached the gap, taking strides onto the other side of the bridge. She was in the ashfields now.
The track seemed to continue, cutting the ashfields into two halves, the same way it separated Duneclan and Meadowclan. It was surprisingly large, spanning across the horizon like a burnt sea. She sniffed the ground, noticing that there were small shoots of green nestled between compacted ash. Eventually this place would revive itself and the idea of it being a cursed and deserted land would be erased from living memory.
Silentpaw felt like an idiot for coming along with her. He knew Shadedpaw was probably concerned more about rouges than getting caught but for him it was the other way round. He doubted there was any rouge presence at all. He watched as she ran ahead of them, sniffing the ground, jumping onto a tree stumps and pawing at unknown things. "This isn't that bad…" Shadedpaw muttered to him. He couldn't disagree more, regardless of not getting caught he felt vehemently like a rule breaker. "At least she's happy" Shadedpaw sighed, a dreamy look on his face. Silentpaw noticed his eyes transfixed on Gingerpaw as she scurried about like a seagull that had over indulged on flying ants. It gave him a sickly feeling that he couldn't describe.
"Guys there's a massive crater in the ground here" Gingerpaw's voice echoed, the only thing visible was her eartips. Shadedpaw trotted ahead, circling the parameter. When Silentpaw leaned over he noticed that one side of the crater was steeper than the other. A gnarled darkened tree stump marked the deeper end. Various tree stumps hung around the side. He imagined they'd once bordered the crater before imploding in the fire. Cautiously he stepped down into the crater. Shadedpaw and Gingerpaw were busy chasing each other through the remains of burnt roots, giggling like kits.
He took a single pawstep into the middle of the clearing. That was all it took. A violent shooting pain wracked his skull. It was exactly what happened last time. He felt his legs give out, he was aware of the fact he was on the ground. White noise filled his ears accompanied by the frantic throbbing of his heart.
It was unbearably hot. He blinked, his eyes feeling gritty as smoke stung them. He had accepted he would die here, his lungs to smoke choked, too weak for him to survive. He was alright with that. Scolding bursts of orange, red and yellow clung to the skeletons of trees, obliterating his home, his family, his culture, his traditions and his way of life. He was surrounded by screaming, cries of pain and anguish which he couldn't locate the makers of the noise. He wasn't alone. Burnt bodies, bodies whose owners had died because of the smoke, bodies of cats who had died fighting. His eyes flickered slowly to the aggravated screech of a she-cat. She was in a bad way. Her paw's were burnt, black and cracked, her pelt was patchy, wet melted flesh exposed. But she was a fighter, back arched, hissing furiously at a pair of toms approaching her. She was a body shield, because the den nestled into the side of the clearing was producing cries of scared kits. Her yellow eyes flared with rage. He knew those yellow eyes, he knew this small she-cat with burnt tufts on her ears. Lilytail. He knew Lilytail well.
The toms circled her as she spat and hissed, swiping at them with her damaged paws. The black tom launched himself at her, toppling her. She grappled in a fight for her life as the second tom joined the fray. He lifted a paw weakly but he couldn't save her. His eyes kept drooping as his breath became shallow, his oxygen starved brain beginning to shut down. Any effort now was futile. His eyes flared open as he heard her blood curdling screams for help. The sizzling of flesh was audible as the tom pinning her down pushed the side of her face into a glowing hot log.
She screeched for help, she cried out in pain as her exposed eye began to bulge and leak fluid. The cries of kits turned to cries for their mothers to save them. The horror of the situation was lost in his delirious state of dying. A final weakened breath rattled out of his mouth, his eyes shutting for the last time. He heard the creaking of wood, a low moan as the trunk gave way, departing from a stump. A ear-splitting thud sounded. The sound of the struggle was silenced. Only the crescendo of the scorching flames remained. The last sound he would ever hear would be the choking cries of kits, crying out into the empty night for their parents.
With panic Gingerpaw propped her friend up against a gnarled tree root. "Nonnonononononono not again! Not again!" Her eyes darted around his face. She gently patted his cheek, pulling it away as a single salty tear wet her fur. That single tear was the first of many, they streamed down his face. "I really think Cloudfang should look into this, it's not normal!" Shadedpaw hissed. They both yelped as Silentpaw's eyes flickered open and he gasped for fresh air. He looked at them both blankly, chest heaving and eyes streaming before a sickening realisation of something seemed to flash across his eyes.
"Thank Starclan! Oh I thought you were going to faint!" Gingerpaw's voice wobbled as if she was going to cry. She leaned forward to nuzzle his face, only for him to recoil. An uncharacteristic dark glare was aimed at her. "Silentpaw what happened?" She stepped back having taken offence. The black tom's fur stood on end as he stared out across the clearing. "Silentpaw! Tell me!" She realised immediately that was the wrong thing to say.
He snarled at her, a voiceless grimace to anyone who didn't understand his body language. Shadedpaw was at her side, just a paw step in front of her like some sort of guardian. Hopelessly she watched her friend bolt out of the crater and into the darkness of the pervading night.
Reviewresponses:
Succulentsofa: Leopardheart's death is definitely a lot more suspicious then the clan thinks. As for Cloudfang...we'll see.
Another chapter I had fun writing! Guess I enjoy writing more morbid things. I think It's definitely a lot darker than the original story for sure. I had to look up how eyes reacted to extreme heat so thats another great thing to scar my search history lol.
Question of the chapter: Ashfield theories?