A/N: Stupid bug project is keeping me really busy, sorry for only updating as often as I am... Anyway, I will probably reach 100,000 words in the next seven or eight chapters... Isn't that an exciting landmark? No? Well, probably not, but it's definitely exciting for me seeing as my second longest story is you know.. 18,000 words. Ha ha. Maybe once I get there, I'll attract some more reviewers? I know some people (myself) troll for fics only with 100,000 words half the time, so... Maybe I should shut up and write the chapter now? Okay. Crap, one last thing: Looking back at the previous chapter, I made it really unclear, but Tigerclaw kidnapped Raggedkit, not Leafkit. The latter, sadly, is with StarClan now.
Foxkit was utterly exhausted. It had only been moments before when the first few drops of water fell from the sky, but now it was crashing down in torrents. The only thing that kept the kit going while the rain pelted the stump of her tail was the sight of a tall fence. It seemed so close, yet no closer while stumbled toward it. Near-delusional, she ignored the pain in what used to be her tail and struggled on. I'll be dead soon, and none of this will matter. But If I could just reach that... That thing... My mother will find me. She thought, not knowing the word for a fence.
It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Foxkit reached it. Tensing her exhausted muscles, she leaped at the top of the fence, and fell short. Far short. Only a quarter up the fence, her tiny claw caught a knot painfully. The sudden shock made her rip it from the fence, but with her other claws extended, her fall to the ground was prolonged. Prolonged and loud.
Several seconds later, a drenched white tom perched on the top of the fence, staring down at her. Squinting through the sheets of precipitation, a flare of recognition and fear flashed in the cat's light green eyes, and he leaped down next to her. "Where is Russetfur? What happened to your tail? Why are you here?" The relief of having found someone who didn't want to kill her crashed over her, and she nearly passed out, legs shaking.
"K-killed them. Brown tom cat. Bit my...tail." The kit knew only a few words that the adult cats had spoken in her presence, but the word "kill" would forever haunt her. Her first word. "They're... They're all dead!" the realization her only real family were truly gone, dead, struck her, and tears spilled out. Exerted beyond her capabilities and faint from grief and blood loss, the kit passed out.
"Russetfur...is dead?" Charlie murmured. "The other kits... all dead..." His white fur, dry and warm only minutes before, clung to his skin and made him shiver furiously. "Dead..." His spring green eyes were wide with shock. Memories whistled through his head. Finding Russetfur in his garden, stealing his Twolegs' plants, her apprehensive expression when she saw him... Then later, dropping the medicine and wrestling in the grass..."Russetfur, you're my best friend!"...The beautiful dark she-cat struggling over his fence, heavy with kits. Had he really never told Russetfur that he loved her?
Brown tom cat... Could Tigerclaw have been the one to kill them? He both fit the description and had the motivation- Russetfur had told him the whole story before she left, and if he was capable of that, then was he capable of killing his own kits? His once-mate? Yes. Something told Charlie that this cat was most definitely capable of it- and that he was most definitely the one who had killed his Russetfur. And now, it was Tigerclaw's turn. Narrowing eyes that were blazing with fury, Charlie took Foxkit in his jaws and leaped to the top of the fence, then down and to the cat flap where he made his ins and outs. Thrusting through, he laid the kit on the linoleum and turned away to leave his owners' nest forever. He never looked back.
Russetfur padded swiftly towards the Burnt Sycamore, which loomed closer with every her jaws, she carried a lizard and a vole, and she had eaten a small frog while she was hunting, too. She was going to hunt more, but the nervousness of being away from her kits for so long wouldn't let her. Now that she was on her way back, she was a little less worried and a little more grateful for the nourishment she held in her jaws. She closed her eyes momentarily and inhaled the scent of her kill. Another scent, however, intruded her nose. Blood?
Not the blood of her prey, of course, but the harsh, metallic tang of cat blood hung faintly in the air, though she could only smell it if she breathed deeply enough. Motherly instinct took over then, shutting of thoughts and feelings and just making her sprint at full tilt towards her makeshift home. Still far from in shape, her legs simply would ot carry her as far as fast as she would like them too.
The closer she got to the tree, the more thoughts trickled into her head. A still, tiny form appeared at the base of the tree, and her heart stopped. No! But the scent filled her nose as rain just started to trickled down from the gloomy clouds. The scent of blood and death and family and Leafkit. She reached his body, legs shaking, and nosed him. Teeth marks of an adult cat were visible in his neck, blood pooled around him. Nudging his still form with her muzzle, he didn't respond, but his neck and scent already told her that. Leafkit was dead, and he hadn't fallen out of the tree. No, no, please... She pleaded silently in her head to no avail. He was gone, and he was never coming back.
She launched herself up the tree. Falconkit was slumped at the back of the hollow, blood coating her fur. Russetfur's nest, her home, her sanctuary, was painted with blood and torn apart. She tore down the tree, needing to find her other kits. She had to know if they were alive or dead. The rain was starting to hide the scent of this tragedy, so she immediately planted it to the ground. What she scented made her jerk upright with horror. She smelled Raggedkit, more blood, Berrykit... And Tigerclaw. Could... Could he have killed them? The shock of such a crime was too dumbfounding for her to process in this state, so she simply followed the scent trail. It led her to another dead kit.
"Berrykit..." the word wrenched itself from her throat. His bright red nose was cut, his throat slashed. A primal, hollow scream ripped through her. Another came, soon after the first, shredding and hardly justifying what Russetfur was feeling. The grief and shock and fear and horror left little room for any coherent thoughts. More ripping screeches came as she stared at the dead body of her son. A son who had been killed by his father. Her kits, pure and helpless, were murdered. Gone.
Russetfur ripped at the sodden ground as rain fell harder. Churning the earth with her paws, white-hot anger slipped through her every vein, mingling with the overwhelming pain in a way that made the queen wish that it was Tigerclaw's mangy throat being slashed by her claws instead of dirt. The muddy soil flew everywhere, splashing and crumbling into her fur, caking in it. Out of breath, she paused, a good-sized hole formed already. The anger faded as she looked at what she had done. Unthinkingly, she had made a grave. The dark red she-cat carefully set Berrykit in the hole.
She plodded back to the Sycamore, the blood-stench now familiar, and carefully picked up Leafkit's dead body. She carried him slowly to the hole and placed his broken, bloody body in the hole with his brother. "My..." she swallowed, tears pricking her eyes. "My kits. I will remember you forever, until I join you in StarClan. I hope you find Raggedkit and Foxkit and Falconkit there, and you can all..." she had to pause again, a sob cutting her off. "You can all play together and wait for me. Mommy loves you so much. Wait for me." Tears fell hard and fast now, making the muddy dirt even wetter as she scraped it over the kits with shaking limbs.
The muddy queen stumbled back to the Sycamore, not having anywhere else to go. Sniffing around aimlessly, she found something she wished desperately she hadn't- a bloody bright ginger tail. "STARCLAN, WHY?" she cried incoherently. "WHY DID YOU LET HIM MUTILATE MY BABIES?" Foxkit's tail was yet another reminder that her kits - her whole world - were gone forever, and they hadn't just passed on in their sleep. They were murdered, gruesomely and painfully. She flinched, thinking of the pain and fear her kits must have felt before they died. She wouldn't wish that upon any cat, but for it to happen to her kits... It was too much.
The images of her family's shattered and gory corpses would not leave her mind, just kept reeling by like a horrific slideshow. Shuddering and shaking, Russetfur's body wracked with dry sobs. Hours passed, the russet she-cat crying and shaking and sitting in the rain, her pelt slicked to her freezing skin, ears flat against her head. No more tears fell, the queen too dehydrated to produce many. Eventually her legs collapsed and she splashed into the mud puddle that had formed beneath her. Her dark ginger fur became even more caked with dirt and grime, even peppering her glassy eyes. She blinked it away, ignoring the harsh sting.
The sun peeked over the horizon as the rain began to abate, and her fur dried into stiff, muddy spikes. Russetfur closed her eyes and pretended she was sleeping, though sleep would have eluded her even if she tried to slip into it. She still shook from cold, but the reality that no matter how hard she cried and screamed and wished, there was nothing she could do for her kits now. She had let them die, alone and scared, and she would never forgive herself for that.
