AN: Just to be clear, I don't condemn warrior cats with silly names. I had an OCs named Chainfur, Cheesypizza, and Graceleg in the past. Also, I wrote this to vent. Lovewing is not based on myself. She probably came from all that Death Note fanfiction I read. Trigger warning for gore, and seriously messed up characters.
Also, I originally posted it on Wattpad because I didn't want to post it here. Now I did. Oops.
"Lovepaw, Lovewing, Loveheart, Loveclaw, Lovetail, Lovefur, Lovewind, LoveSTAR, Love, love, love... my name is ridiculous. No warrior name could make it better." The she-cat's tail twitched, and she turned her head. "I know you're there, Redclaw. Stop hiding."
The tom, who was unused to such tone coming from his former apprentice (condescending, acting like he was a kit), stepped forward only to recoil. The sight before him was almost unexpected, but not quite, having known her for a long time. He gazed into her dull, dull eyes (which he had always thought of as bright, but he was lying to himself- the green was not of newleaf, but of old twoleg milk left out for moons in the alleyways) which were briefly touched by mirth, but it could have just been imagined. Her eyes, at least at the moment, were emotionless.
Lovewing's paw pads were ripped apart, blood oozing into the sand underneath. Brilliant red lined and surrounded her paws, the sickly smell filling the clearing. She didn't appear to notice, as if there was nothing wrong in the first place. Redclaw didn't find that part disturbing (she had never been the type to notice things, he saved her from being trampled by a monster once because she simply didn't see it or hear it coming), rather what exactly she did to make that scene.
A barely recognizable rabbit lay next to her, it's skull crushed and cracked. Gray matter was spilling out, the rabbit's legs were flayed out on each side, one of them broken. It's chest was torn open. None of it, not even a morsel, had seemed to touch a cat's mouth, instead, it laid there, it's body not respected or put to use. Starclan. Clan cats ever regarded prey as much more than a tool, really, but it was a fate Redclaw would not wish on any living creature. Lovewing seemed to have observed his attention being elsewhere, so she plopped down next to it, and looked expectantly up at her old mentor.
"Oh, I encountered it on my way out if the camp, stupid thing. I'd be dreadfully bored at a vigil, you know, so I fled. Of course, you noticed. You always notice everything. Anyway, it just sat there while I approached it, not even in hunter's crouch- rather the opposite, may I add. I doubt it even noticed when I bashed it's head in. Did you ever notice how brains felt? Of course you didn't. You have those ridiculous morals. I think they feel wonderful." Her voice had a silky tone to it, almost a purr. "You know, it reminded me of someone. Someone who didn't bother investigating herself and her past, even if all the hints were given because she was stupid, and the truth dangling in front of her all her life until she connected the dots. Me."
Not knowing how to say everything he wanted to, Redclaw summed it up. "You're bleeding."
"Oh, I suppose I am, aren't I? It's very red, too red, although when mixed with the gray coming from the rabbit's head, it's tolerable." Her eyes, never have they felt so eerie, Redclaw noticed as they went in and out of focus. They never looked quite at him, rather, an imaginary tom who saw all she said as common sense. She tilted her head far enough for the change in degrees to be visible, "The skull probably got lodged in a paw. Or two. Or three. Thanks for noticing for me, mentor."
"You know, I hate my name. I thought it was cool when I was a kit, before I knew the truth of why it is the way it is. Thought it made me special. Instead, it made it all the more clear that I am the daughter of a kittypet who didn't know any better."