Chapter 18
Clovernight stiffened. "No," she whispered, feeling rage well up inside of her. Why did those stupid fox-hearted foxes---
She hissed and loped over to the fallen warrior, touching her nose to his fur. It was cold. She looked up at Berrytail and Lightheart, who had both just lost their father. "I---I'm so sorry."
Berrytail's eyes were glazed over, and Lightheart had been reduced to whimpering pitifully. Her nose buried in her brother's fur. Clovernight gazed at them sorrowfully, then stood up and coughed.
"Um, we should take him back to camp," she said, her voice cracking. He was a good warrior. Always fierce and skilled, although he was quick-tempered. He would've been the next deputy…
Berrytail nodded and stood up, licking his sister's ear gently before grabbing Shadowclaw's scruff.
Cloudstorm emerged from the warriors den, shaking his gray pelt free of dust and clumps of moss. As he passed Ashenfur, he dipped his head respectfully and mewed a polite hello. He padded to the fresh-kill pile and rummaged through it, looking for a juicy vole. After a few moments, he found one to his liking and sat down beside Dawnheart to eat.
He had only taken two or three bites when a shocked yowl split the air, and murmurs arose in the clearing. He looked up and saw his sister, Clovernight, and Berrytail dragging a limp figure into camp. For a moment he was fearful that it was Lightheart, but he saw the gray she-cat trudge into camp, her eyes dim. It was Shadowclaw who was dead. Cats surrounded them, bombarding them with questions.
"Silence!" Smokestar demanded, his tail twitching worriedly. His eyes looked dull to see his warrior dead. "How did this happen?"
Lightheart stared down at her paws, and Berrytail was staring at his father. Clovernight, who seemed to be the only one in her right state of mind, replied.
Her voice shaky, she mewed, "The fox cubs… they came and attacked us. There were three of them, and---" Her voice cracked there. "---they were huge! We managed to drive two off the territory, and we came back to where Shadowclaw was fighting with the third… we found him dead."
Shocked murmurs rippled through the ThunderClan cats, and heads swiveled around to see the leader's reaction.
The dark, smoky gray tom nodded, his voice strained as he mewed, "He died as a loyal warrior, fighting to protect his Clan."
Cloudstorm made his way closer to his sister, his eyes full of sympathy. She was staring at the fallen warrior, her eyes clouded. "Clovernight," he rasped.
She looked up, then sighed.
Snowstorm had her nose buried in Shadowclaw's fur. "I love him, I love him," she kept repeating, her blue eyes full of grief.
Hazeltail was there, too, mourning. Frostpaw was there, her head bowed down.
The other cats dispersed, wanting to give the cats some space. Cloudstorm hung back, unsure of whether he should go comfort Lightheart or not. He caught Frostpaw's eye and looked away quickly, shuffling his paws with discomfort. After a while, he turned and padded back toward the warriors den, his vole forgotten.
"Lightheart?" Cloudstorm called softly, his head poked into the medicine cat's den.
It was Frostpaw, not Lightheart, who looked up.
Cloudstorm shuffled his paws. "Um, is Lightheart here?"
Frostpaw nodded, not looking up to meet his gaze. Either she felt awkward because of their past relationship, or she was still mourning her father. "She's in the back, with Snowstorm and Hazeltail. They're still not feeling very well, but Berrytail seems strong. Mosspelt went out to get herbs."
Cloudstorm nodded. "Can I see her?"
"Uh… sure," the white she-cat mewed finally, turning and padding into the dark den. Cloudstorm blinked his thanks. A moment later, a slim grey she-cat appeared.
"Hi," she mewed a bit downheartedly.
Cloudstorm glanced at her warily. "Are you… feeling alright?"
She shrugged halfheartedly. "I guess. I mean, it's been a few days, I should be over it, I know… but…"
Cloudstorm nuzzled her. "I understand. You shouldn't get over him this easily. He was your father."
She nodded, sighing, pressing herself into his warmth.
Cloudstorm licked the pretty she-cat's muzzle and nuzzled her again, but stiffened when Frostpaw came out of the herb store, some leaves in her mouth. She was eyeing the pair, but turned to her sister.
"Lightheart, eat these," Frostpaw mewed. "It's thyme, it'll help you with the shock." Although she looked calm and restored, the grief and pain in her voice was obvious.
"Thanks," Lightheart mewed, lapping up the leaves with her pink tongue. She made a face at the bitter taste, then turned to Cloudstorm. "Well, don't let me dampen your mood. Go out and hunt or patrol, have some fun."
Cloudstorm glanced at her, trying to ignore the look he was getting from Frostpaw. "Will you be alright?"
Lightheart nodded. "Sure."
He swished his tail in farewell and padded out of the den, purring when the sun warmed his fur. He loped toward the thorn tunnel, where Ashenfur was organizing patrols.
"Oh, hey, Cloudstorm, join Leafdapple and Whitepelt, would you?" Ashenfur mewed, then padded off to boss some other cat around.
Cloudstorm padded to where his grandmother and his mother's best friend stood.
"Come on," Leafdapple mewed, flicking her tail.
Dewleaf lashed a paw out at the surface of the water, sending a fish flying onto the riverbank. She caught it swiftly and killed it before it could flop back into the water.
"Nice catch," Redfur mewed, turning away to crouch at the water. In a matter of heartbeats, another fish was laying on the riverbank.
"You, too," Dewleaf answered, flicking an ear. "Pretty soon, the river will freeze over."
Redfur nodded, swiping his tongue over some pale ginger fur. "We'll have to stick to hunting in the forest. We don't want to risk falling into the water and freezing to death in the middle of leaf-bare."
Dewleaf nodded.
"Well, I say we caught a lot, let's head back to camp."
Dewleaf picked up the fish she had caught and waited for Redfur, then leapt toward the camp.
She flew into the camp and dropped the fish on the fresh-kill pile. She glanced back at Redfur, who dropped his three fish on the pile, too. The sleek black she-cat looked around for a moment, then spotted a certail black and grey tabby pelt and padded over.
"Hi, Stormpelt," she mewed, twitching her left ear in greeting.
Stormpelt looked up from the mouse he was eating and mewed, "Hey." He gulped up the rest of the fresh-kill hastily and stood up, licking his lips. "Were you out hunting?"
"Yup," Dewleaf replied. "I went fishing with Redfur."
Stormpelt purred. "Did you fall in the water again?"
"No," Dewleaf answered, her eyes narrowed. "But I'm sure the only you live for is to see me fall into the river," she teased.
The grey and black tom purred. "Exactly."
Cloudstorm sat down to eat a thrush, Lightheart at his side, a small mouse hanging from her jaws. He flicked his tail at the grass beside him, motioning for her to sit down. She blinked gratefully and did so, her pelt brushing his. He purred and bit into the fresh-kill. After he was done, he began to lick his lips clean, then groomed his fur. Soon, Lightheart was finished, too, and she took to grooming Cloudstorm's ears. He licked her ragged pelt free of thorns and tangles. They sat there for a while, sharing tongues, then Lightheart got up abruptly and sighed.
"What's wrong?" Cloudstorm meowed, his voice full of concern. He rasped his tongue over the gray she-cat's ear. "Are you alright?"
Lightheart shrugged. "I miss Shadowclaw."
Cloudstorm nudged her. "I know, Lightheart. I understand. I miss my sister, Dewleaf."
"But she's not dead," Lightheart said dully, her tail laying limply in the dust.
"Yes, I know," Cloudstorm replied sorrowfully, pressing his muzzle into the gray fur in Lightheart's shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry."
Lightheart sighed and breathed out, turning her head slowly to look at Cloudstorm.
Yeah, this chapter was way shorter than the usual chapters, but it was sad to write, and it was kind of getting off focus. Please review!