A/N: Another busy week. Homecoming week, actually, or I would have updated yesterday. Or, you know, last weekend, when I was supposed to. -.- I worked 13 hours of concessions Friday & Saturday, blech. I DID get a kitten though. His name is Caribou. He's eleven weeks old, and the cutest ball of fluffy black fur I've ever seen. Anyway, I hope you take the time to read these little notes because I actually have a tiny piece of information in this one: THIS CHAPTER IS IN TIGERCLAW'S POV! So, here it is.
"You can come in now, Tigerclaw." Cinderpelt said quietly, her eyes wide. "She's very tired though. You should let her sleep." The huge tabby started to shove his way into the nursery. "Tigerclaw!" The she-cat called him back, and he turned, irritated. "I'm sorry, but the male might not live through the night. He's very weak." The sadness in her eyes made a note of fear strike in his heart for the first time in a long time.
Goldenflower lay at the back of the den, her eyes mostly closed, two kits at her stomach. As Tigerclaw stepped closer, he could tell by scent that the smaller kit, a tortoiseshell, was female and the dark tabby that resembled him very closely was the male. He didn't say anything about the kit's condition, but a hint of guilt licked at his heart. He had been the weakest of his litter, and had almost died himself while his two sisters passed on. Could that have something to do with this? He shook his head. Even if that was the reason, there was nothing he ever could have done to prevent it.
"Tigerclaw..." Goldenflower said weakly, her eyelids fluttering. Falling asleep a moment after that, the golden she-cat's breathing evened out. The tabby tom's, however, was erratic and forced. He kept his mouth wide open to breathe, but didn't even attempt to suckle. Tigerclaw told himself to accept the fact that this kit was going to die. Yet Goldenflower such a fragile she-cat... The death of her kit would shake her, maybe even kill her too, and his other kit would die without a mother. The perfectly healthy tortoiseshell she-kit might die because her brother wouldn't survive.
Consumed by his thoughts, the deputy hurried out of the den. He sat by the fresh-kill pile for a while, the warriors and apprentices returning from their various duties and sleepily padding to their dens. As the moon peeked through the clouds hours later, only a sliver, he righted himself suddenly, his paws taking him to the nursery without really knowing why. Inside, the tabby kit was still. Tigerclaw's heart sank.
The kit was dead. Silently, he picked him up by the scruff and carried him out. All the queens and kits were fast asleep, so he knew they would never know. Darkstripe was guarding the camp that night, and upon seeing that it was Tigerclaw that waited to pass, he stumbled tiredly out of the way, not even noticing or caring what his ex-mentor and friend carried in his jaws.
Tigerclaw swiftly buried the dead kit where all of his former Clanmates had been buried, not a tear falling nor a sad word said. He did feel sorrow for the loss of his kit, but he held it deep inside. Grief had no place in his life. Yet he needed to get away from camp for a little while. Think things over and try to figure out how to keep Goldenflower alive.
After a bit he found himself padding along the ShadowClan border. He realized where he was and fought the urge to bite his leg in frustration. Was it coincidence or his heart that had led him here? He started to turn away from the border when a movement caught his eye. A cat poked its head out of the hole in the Burnt Sycamore, looking around. Tigerclaw backed into a shrub, not wanting to be seen.
He watched as the cat ducked back inside the hole for a moment, then leaped down from the tree, taking another look around. His heart almost stopped. It was Russetfur! He would know that form anywhere, though her stomach was distended. He could even tell that she had just birthed kits, looking just like Goldenflower, but with sharp green eyes that contrasted with her dark red fur, clinging to her sleek, muscled frame. What are you thinking? he asked himself, horrified. Get a grip. She will never love you, not after- he couldn't bring himself to think it, pain searing him. It's true. Russetfur will never love me.
But... Why is she sleeping in a tree? Why isn't she with her kits? Unless... Unless the kits were sleeping in the tree, too? Curiosity took over then. The moment Russetfur was far enough away, he hurried to the tree. As he got close, he hear a mewl and his eyes widened. Why was Russetfur holed up in a tree with her kits? And why had she left them exposed and alone? Where had she gone? Feeling an over-powering need to protect these kits, he clawed his way up the tree.
"Russetfur? Go hunt already! I told you the kits would be fine with-" A somewhat older kit had said, before turning to see that it was definitely not Russetfur, back from her hunt. "Me?" the kit finished her sentence, her fur bristling up as she stepped in front of the newborn kits. "Who are you?" she spat.
Tigerclaw was slightly taken aback. Russetfur had entrusted the care of her kits to a kit? "I am the father of these kits." he answered honestly. "Who are you?"
The black-furred she-kit's eyes narrowed. "Russetfur's my friend. She's been taking care of me since my mother was killed fighting ThunderClan."
Tigerclaw wondered if she could tell he was a ThunderClan cat. "Do not blame ThunderClan for Brokenstar's mistakes. Now, why are Russetfur and the kits sleeping in a tree?"
"Shouldn't the father of Russetfur's kits know? What are you, anyway, a rogue? Loner? Kittypet? You don't smell like ShadowClan." The kit asked suddenly.
His legs tired from holding him on the edge of the hollow, he stepped inside the small space. "I am the ThunderClan deputy, kit." A bright ginger she-kit stumbled over his paws and fell on her stomach, minuscule claws barely pricking the skin of his paw. "You look just like Foxheart..." he murmured. "That's your name, isn't it? Foxkit?"
The older kit just sat there, mouth gaping. After a moment, she muttered, "You must know Russetfur pretty well."
"Of course I do." Tigerclaw said without thinking. He immediately wished he could take the statement back. He looked at the other kits. Two were dark brown tabbies, like him, another a brown and white kit. "And maybe I should know why you're all in a tree, but I don't. Please tell me."
"Russetfur was banished from ShadowClan for supporting Brokenstar, along with several others. She took me with her to Twolegplace because my mother wanted me to be a kittypet, but I ran away. But we can't go back to ShadowClan. Nightstar would just drive us away again." the kit told him sadly.
Tigerclaw took a minute to absorb this information. "So what is Russetfur going to do, raise our kits and you in this tree? You're bound to be discovered sooner or later, and the longer you're here the worse it will be for every cat."
"Tell Russetfur that then. I haven't got any say in where we go or what we do. I'm a kit, remember? Why would stupid little Falconkit get a word in edgewise..." she added bitterly.
The huge tabby tom rolled his eyes. "Russetfur would claw me to pieces if she knew I was here."
"Why?" Falconkit asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.
Tigerclaw shuffled his paws. "I made one mistake. One stupid mistake, and Russetfur will never -" he broke off. "Never mind."
Falconkit opened her mouth to say something when a yowl sounded. "Tigerclaw? Are you alright?"
Darkstripe's voice came from a little ways away, and soon he was clawing his way up the tree. "I'm sorry I followed y- Tigerclaw?" he asked, seeing him sitting there calmly with a kit lying across his paws and four others in the hollow. "What's going on?"
Knowing there was no way he could reveal his secret to even Darkstripe, he lied smoothly, "I've come to take these kits for ThunderClan. After all, ShadowClan tried to take our kits."
Shedding all doubt, the younger warrior said eagerly, "I'll help you!" and grabbed a kit by the scruff roughly.
"No! Stop that!" Falconkit panicked. "Put Leafkit down!" She leaped at Darkstripe, who knocked her out of the air with a paw.
"Watch it, kit." he growled, clawing her for good measure.
Tigerclaw, knowing he had to keep his image safe, took Leafkit from Darkstripe. He flung Falconkit at the wall of hollow, knocking her out but not killing her. "The mother can't know any of them are alive." He sunk his teeth into Leafkit's neck and blood gushed out, painting Foxkit's fur below him. Leafkit was dead. He dropped the kit out of the tree and heard fragile bones crack when he hit the ground. Tigerclaw did not flinch.
Foxkit did not know what was happening only that there was danger, bad and pain and hurt and she should get away. She scrambled towards fresh air only to be dragged back by the tail by Darkstripe. She cried out. Where was her mother, who should protect her from this? Teeth sank into her tail near the base and she screamed the scream of a kitten who knows death is looming and ripped away from the teeth. Her tiny, fluffy tail, however, remained where it was while the kit herself ran as best she could in the tiny space until she was falling out, away from the teeth and claws and blood, air rushing around her.
In the hollow, Darkstripe started to go after the kit, but Tigerclaw stopped him. "She's as good as dead. No kit could survive that fall. Grab that one." he nudged the slightly larger tabby tom while he picked up the other tabby. "Let's go."
They scrambled down the tree, not noticing the bleeding ginger she-kit that cluing to a branch by the tips of her claws on the other side of the tree. Tigerclaw waited until they were a good three fox-lengths from the tree to murder the kit he held in his jaws, ripping him apart with claws. The red-nosed tabby barely had time to let out a squeak of agony. "Give me that kit." he said, and Darkstripe instanly passed him the last kit.
Inspiration struck at that moment. "Darkstripe... Goldenflower had two kits, one of whom died tonight. From this moment forward, this kit is him. Got it?" Darkstripe nodded. The two hurried to ThunderClan territory, cleaning themselves of blood and rolling in the dirt to mask the scent of the kit.
Meanwhile, Foxkit slid down the trunk of the tree wrenching her claws painfully, though that hurt did not compare to that of the stump of her tail, which was that was left. She fell onto the hard ground and stumbled over something she realized was the dead body of her brother. Horrified, the kit ran. Foxkit ran and ran, going back to where she had been carried from earlier. She ran.
